He made wilbur stay in the viewing platform to witness his suicide and the destruction of what they had made together. He made him philza, the pressure plate the button, to prove a point. To defuse the bomb, wilbur. Holy fucking shit
thinking about c!phil. c!phil & techno & how they are soldiers who breathe violence -- how that impacts phil's parenting.
thinking about how they canonically fought together as the antarctic empire. thinking about phil & techno as fellow soldiers, both emotionally stunted, & how they found solace in knowing the other is absolutely loyal. an bloodforged unspoken trust deeper than any verbal oath they could've made. thinking about how often they might have pushed through pain & left it festering & unaddressed bc it was all they knew: don't talk about it. carry on & deal with trauma only when it crops up. it's probably the way both of them deal with it best, but that's not... mentally sustainable.
thinking about how c!phil consistently resorts to violence to solve the big problems (wilbur, l'manberg). thinking about how he can't address ~emotions~ for squat. thinking about how c!techno does the same things.
thinking about the probable lessons they learned from war. the ends justify the means. violence is the only language that people respect. pay an insult back a hundredfold to establish your strength; people will back off. trauma is weakness & people will take advantage of it. keep your true feelings & loyalties close to your chest & continually reevaluate the situation. alliances could fall apart any moment, any situation could be a trap, so paranoia is survival. if you need to, make the hard choice & live with it. blunt the emotional pain by bottling up/dulling your emotions--whatever works. (I'm not super familiar with SMP Earth, so please add some examples if you are!)
thinking about how all of this really doesn't translate well to parenting.
but if that's all c!phil knows, we can't expect him to do it differently.
I just finished all the trigun manga in 2 days because of goddamn Bigolas Dickolas and I have So Many Thoughts I am going to die if I don't write them down somewhere.
sherlock gets bored between cases (lonely, mrs hudson thinks, but he scoffs when she tells him so), and he starts tinkering with things around the flat. even though he makes a mess, she generally doesnât mind because when heâs done pulling things apart, he usually puts them back together again, mostly in the right order. and on occasion things even end up put together a little better than before. the latch on the sitting room door no longer sticks. the tap in the bath no longer drips. the door on the oven no longer squeaks.
but then lestrade calls while the pieces of the kitchen lamp are still strewn across the table and the worktop, while dark wires still snake down from the ceiling, precarious and ready to bite. sherlockâs only halfway done with the tinkering and not at all done with the putting back together, but thereâs a case, and itâs a beautiful oneâa body in a place it wasnât meant to be, a piece of evidence that leads them in a circle rather than in a straight line to a suspect, a motive, an arrestâand sherlock has no interest in the inner workings of kitchen lamps when he has the inner workings of a murder to pull apart instead.Â
it takes days to even begin to solve, and every time mrs hudson comes up to dust or to trade out a fresh sandwich for the untouched one sheâd left the day before, she presses the switch out of habit and is greeted by a shower of angry golden sparks. sherlock holmes, she demands around the drum of her heart against her fragile ribs, but heâs too caught up in the labyrinth of the case, in the sticky mire of his own head to even hear her. so she does what any sensible landlady would do when faced with the aftermath of a bored consulting detective: she gets a man in.Â
she plucks his name out of the telephone directory because she knew a watson once, and he was a solid and dependable sort. when she phones, the voice on the other end of the line is a little distant, a little sad perhaps, but cordial enough, and he agrees to come round today if she doesnât mind that it might not be until late. she tries to warn sherlock, but sheâs sure he hasnât heard. at least with a case on, thereâs only a slim chance heâll be sheet-clad when the electrician arrivesâthey donât need a repeat of the plumber incident. still, she thinks, the fright would serve sherlock right for leaving her kitchen in such a state. nevertheless, when the man knocks on the door at half four, she leads him upstairs herself, sure to step in all the places that squeak, to knock, to open the door slowly so sherlock isnât caught unaware. she half-expects him to still be nearly catatonic in his chair, knees tucked up under his chin, a habit that makes him look so endearingly young. but instead she finds him at the window, the afternoon light warming his skin and streaking the dark smudge of his hair with fiery mahogany. oh, sherlock dear, she says as the electrician limps up the last of the stairs, this manâs here to see about theâ
sparks.Â
the word slips out of john watsonâs mouth on a whisper of breath as he stutters to a stop in the doorway. mrs hudsonâs brow wrinkles, yes exactly, thatâs whatâŠÂ she turns back to sherlock to find him similarly frozen and wide-eyed, a gentle blush blossoming in his cheeks. âŠi was going to⊠and back to john just as he starts to come back to himself, pulling his shoulders back and his spine up straighter, looking almost as if he doesnât even need the cane in his hand.
right, she says, the hint of a smile curling around the word. iâll justâŠÂ she slips around john watson, throwing a glance back over her shoulder as sherlock flutters into motion, hurrying off toward the kitchen and offering to clear away some of the mess gathered there. her feet are light on the steps as she continues back down to her flat, the grin across her mouth growing bolder. she shuts her door tight and turns up the telly.
sherlock holmes and john watson.Â
sparks indeed.
Source: ăOVERLORDăă LOG.ïŒÂ by æĄéGAZARI
Album:Â http://imgur.com/a/ZfEFk
Modern Sherlock Holmes but heâs a 27 year old, drinks energy drinks only, is astonishing polite and has no idea how the solar system works because it was never relevant to a case but can name every every person involved in making Super Mario Bros because he did need that for a case once.
Watson is continuously appalled about his eating habits and makes vague posts on Twitter that ends in threads like
Watson: âMy roommate noticed only today that he can label his email inboxs but took apart his entire bloody laptop two weeks ago.â
Person: âThis reminds me of the post about the roommate who couldnât turn on the coffee machine but remembers like 500 numbers of piâ
Watson: âIâll be delighted to inform you that this is the very same roommate.â
The BBC Radio's version of The Blue Carbuncle contains, what has to be said is, one of my favourite scenes... It's when Holmes and Watson are standing in the street after proving the innocence of John Horner.
Here it is in its full text glory đ
From Bert Coules' book 221 BBC.
I love this, I adore it. So good.
This is a Law centric animatic kinda about Dressrosa but also about just him warming up to Luffy and his crew <33
hey chat did you guys know there's a whole website with informational videos on the rights you hold when interacting with ICE or witnessing interactions with ICE. all written by immigrants and for immigrants. idk man it'd be a shame if people watched these informational videos y'know.