#Love the premise

[claudethecrabdemoness]

It’s Time…

It’s a new year, we’re queer, and the show is officially here. So we all know what that means…

… time to start aggressively shipping all our OCs with Vox.

😝

⚡️🔌🖥️💙🦈⚡️

No but really. The TV man really won this round hands down, both tied behind his back. Which means he and Claude will now be the reigning power couple they were always meant to be.

I’m sorry y’all Husker fuckers (me included) but after his voice change I just…. lost all interest in making them endgame. Which is really sad, considering how much I loved Mick’s interpretation of him. Look look- it’s no hate to Keith, because I love the man, he’s a national treasure we all know this, but he really just isn’t… Husk. To me at least. I adjusted for the show, and it’s… fine… but not what grabs me anymore. And I think that’s ok because now I’m much happier giving him back to Angel in this fic. So… I have to decide what I really want to do in terms of what I’ve already thought up, but Vox is now my main man and I was so happy they didn’t fuck him up at least. (Val is a whole nother disaster I don’t have the strength to get into rn…) The Megara in me is elated he’s literally a confirmed Hades archetype and I can’t resist the siren call of a childish douchebag in a suit with a flatscreen for a face. So mote it be.

But anyway! I’m gonna get back into this side blog and just wanted to announce the shift in storyline. It’s not that much different, but she’s not going to be seducing Husk anymore as a main trope. Not that this really matters much- I barely outlined a coherent plot on here lol. I don’t even know who really follows this anyway. More Claude is def on the way tho, especially now that I have much more content to play with. So if you’re still following me, a big ass thank you and pls enjoy the impending chaos!

[frogmaestro]

no its so much worse, she writes the equivalent of a middle school self insert x reader story about the prince (who is hated by the public), and then someone PUBLISHES THE STORY WITHOUT PERMISSION and she doesn't even realise until the prince tries to arrest her for defamation .

but the prince's aid basically says "wait this is weirdly good for ur publicity, which u need if u wanna take over the throne", so the prince isn't allowed to kill her and instead has to hire her to write a sequel

but she gets writers block because the prince is a dick and she cant think of anything nice to say about him, so i think they have to go on a bunch of dates or smthing?? and then they fall in love probably

deserved

[inkskinned]

this is just my opinion but i think any good media needs obsession behind it. it needs passion, the kind of passion that's no longer "gentle scented candle" and is now "oh shit the house caught on fire". it needs a creator that's biting the floorboards and gnawing the story off their skin. creators are supposed to be wild animals. they are supposed to want to tell a story with the ferocity of eating a good stone fruit while standing over the sink. the same protective, strange instinct as being 7 and making mud potions in pink teacups: you gotta get weird with it.

good media needs unhinged, googling-at-midnight kind of energy. it needs "what kind of seams are invented on this planet" energy and "im just gonna trust the audience to roll with me about this" energy. it needs one person (at least) screaming into the void with so much drive and energy that it forces the story to be real.

sometimes people are baffled when fanfic has some stunning jaw-dropping tattoo-it-on-you lines. and i'm like - well, i don't go here, but that makes sense to me. of fucking course people who have this amount of passion are going to create something good. they moved from a place of genuine love and enjoyment.

so yeah, duh! saturday cartoons have banger lines. random street art is sometimes the most precious heart-wrenching shit you've ever seen. someone singing on tiktok ends up creating your next favorite song. youtubers are giving us 5 hours of carefully researched content. all of this is the impossible equation to latestage capitalism. like, you can't force something to be good. AI cannot make it good. no amount of focus-group testing or market research. what makes a story worth listening to is that someone cares so much about telling it - through dance, art, music, whatever it takes - that they are just a little unhinged about it.

one time my friend told me he stayed up all night researching how many ways there are to peel an orange. he wrote me a poem that made me cry on public transportation. the love came through it like pith, you know? the words all came apart in my hands. it tasted like breakfast.

[fluentisonus]

the thing is I am still thinking about that bit in conclave right before they're about to vote when the breath of wind & birdsong comes in through the window that had recently been violently blown in to let the light and air into what has til then been a suffocatingly still & sterile & dark & enclosed environment & it ruffles all the pages on the desks & they all pause and look up. like oh god is there

[mentallyillmindmeld]

Regular person: yeah so that’s basically the premise of th-

Guy with crippling Star Trek brainrot: hey yknow what else was called “the premise”

[bentnotbroken1fanfiction]

Forever loving Sense8. My top 3 shows of all time. I love this show so fucking much. Holy shit.

SENSE8 1.06 | Demons

[noknowshame]

always a fun time when real life people are doomed by their own narratives. like guys you know it doesn’t have to be like this right? this isn’t a stageplay the foreshadowing isn’t real until you make it real

[asteryllic]

Can’t believe I haven’t posted about star trek yet

Anyways lesbian spirk god bless

[ladyofrosefire]

Until pretty recently, I had never read fic for a fandom I had never dipped into. It got me thinking about why people read fics for stories they've never followed. Sooo...

*not even 1 episode. None of the book. No more than the movie's trailer. etc.

[shigeoreum]

Loved how the answers to V’ger and Spock’s question of “Is this all that I am?” lie in such human concepts of love, acceptance, union. The completion of their sense of selves are not dependent on the two men, but rather so much more fulfilling, real, and tangible through loving them and everything that comes with doing so.

Side note: love being a want or need for union is a philosophical take i don’t 100% agree with (narratively speaking it’s so romantic, though, especially in this movie’s context LOL), but Marilyn Friedman’s twist on love as more of a separate, “third” unified entity (a federation of the lovers’ selves) was fun to think about ^_^

[generallyjl]

truly a game changer episode of all time

[keypostos]

unestablished relationship. 1.9k words. candid photos and confessions (but not the kind you thiiiiiink).

caleb who always looks back at you first.

caleb, who doesn't hesitate to glance back at you not once, but twice.

caleb, who made sure to always look back for you when you were kids. he swore to himself that he'd never let you out of his sight: a promise he wanted to keep forever. if you strayed too far away, he'd grab your hand and lead you back to him, where you belonged.

even as teenagers, caleb would not stop looking out for you. no matter how many times you've complained (you entered that stage where you've found new friends), caleb lingers, watching over you like he always has.

he grabs onto your backpack when you almost walk into a pole, steering you clear from a nasty bruise. he intimidates those assholes that try to hit on you with his presence. he looks back to see if you've strayed away farther than before.

and as adults, he's still scrutinizing you. you tell him that you're a deepspace hunter now and you don't need monitoring. caleb responds with something teasing like, "oh really? pipsqueak can take care of her own now? does that mean she can reach the tall cabinets too?"

he looks back first before entering gran's house. after your small argument, his eyes flicker to your face; you have this annoyed look, one where your eyebrows are furrowed and your lips are slightly pouted. and how could he stay mad at that?

you're not making eye contact with him, and it makes caleb want to say something to make you look up. he wants you to look.

he feels like a kid again.

he faces the door, but turns back to glance at you one last time. his lips curl up in a tiny smirk—you look back up at him. he opens the door first and the world goes dark.

old habits seem to die hard for caleb. because now—even though you're just lounging in your apartment—he still can't seem to take his eyes off of you.

it's been like this the whole day. you've been back in his life for a while now (it's been a few months, but for caleb, it's like you've been here forever), and he still can't seem to stop looking at you.

at the grocery store today, he kept looking back at you while you were throwing items into the shopping cart. as kids, you'd stand on the bottom part of the cart, nearly tipping over sometimes when you pushed yourself off the ground like the cart was a skateboard.

while walking through linkon's crowded shopping district, caleb made sure to never let go of your hand. part of it was because he didn't want to lose you in the crowd, and another part was because he wanted to keep holding your hand. but you didn't need to know that last part.

and presently, he's looking back at you while cooking dinner. every once in a while (every few seconds), he looks up from his post in the kitchen to find you shifting positions on the couch. you're on your stomach, then your back, and then your side. you had a book in your hand, then your phone, then the tv remote.

he shakes his head and lets out a small chuckle. he hopes you hear him, just so you can come up to him and bother him like before. you two still tease each other, but it's not the same.

he focuses on stirring the pot for a little while and then looks back over to you. but instead of finding you in another position on the couch, you're upright with alert, wide eyes. directed right at him. staring at him.

the moment he catches you, your eyes immediately flee to another surface. he notices as your head shifts from the coffee table to the tv to caleb's jacket on the coat hanger.

caleb's face pulls back; he's left puzzled. it was so obvious that you were boring holes into the back of his head, so why were you trying to hide it?

caleb takes this as the perfect opportunity to get you riled up, "what're you doing...?"

your eyes reach his for only a second before they shift away. caleb feels something strike his chest. "nothing. just laying around," you respond as nonchalantly as you can, as if you weren't just ogling him a few seconds before, "bored as hell, might i add."

"really?" caleb challenges you, "did you like what you see at least?"

you jolt up from the couch, "huh?!"

"i could see you staring at me, y'know," caleb teases.

"i was not staring at you."

"i'm pretty sure that if i search up the definition of staring, what you just did would pop up."

"oh really," you pad over to the kitchen. caleb turns around and tries to hide his smirk. even after all these years, he still riles you up so easily. "search it up."

caleb sucks a breath in through his teeth, "sorry pipsqueak, i'm kind of busy over here," he says, gesturing to the food on the stove. "but if you'd like to help, feel free."

you roll your eyes, "yeah, i'll help. let me just search up the definition of staring for you." you plop yourself onto the kitchen island across from him, carelessly tapping on your phone while caleb cooks.

chaos has been thrashing itself onto caleb like waves in this past year. but seeing you on the kitchen island—swinging your legs back and forth while bothering him—brings him the most peace in the world.

he turns around and turns the stove off before making his way over to you. he walks over and cages your thighs between his hands, making you jerk your head up from your phone to meet his eyes.

in a flash, you try to turn your phone off, but caleb catches a glance of what's on there.

it's a picture of him, just now, cooking in your kitchen.

for a moment, caleb has nothing to say. he just stares at himself—his backside—in your camera roll.

while caleb's practically dumbstruck, you turn off your phone and place it on the counter. caleb's gaze follows your hand, then trails around your face.

he glances at your lips once, and you bite at your bottom lip in response. he gulps, looks away, and shakes his head as if he was snapping out of a spell.

clearer, more logical caleb speaks, "why'd you take a picture of me? i'm right here, y'know."

you swallow, "it's a candid. super popular now."

"mhm," caleb hums. "this the first of many?"

"no," you shake your head, lowering your eyes to your lap, "i've got plenty. i've got blackmail photos to actual good photos."

"cute," caleb smiles. you can hear how his voice lifts when he speaks and it makes you blush. "but if you ever need me, i'm right here."

this makes you look up. "always?"

"of course," he grabs your hands that lay in your lap, "you know that. i'm never that far away."

but you pull away from him, curling your knees up and resting your head on them. caleb immediately follows your body, just like all those years ago.

your arms rest on top of your knees, covering your face when you sigh. caleb takes his big hands and rests them on the side of your torso, rubbing up and down.

"hey," he coaxes, "look at me. please?"

when you don't budge, his hands travel under your arms to your face. "what's wrong? talk to me, baby."

the childhood nickname makes you laugh, and caleb can feel the reverberations through your face as he cups it. he strokes up and down your cheekbone, prodding at you to look up at him.

look back, he silently pleads, please look back at me.

after letting out another long sigh, you finally cave, "i'm scared that you won't be around for me. that something's going to pull you away. and no matter how hard i cling onto you, that other thing will get the best of me."

"nothing like that will ever happen," caleb quickly reassures you, "why are you thinking about that?"

you place your smaller hands over his bigger ones, and caleb feels his heart swell. he bites down on his tongue to resist the urge to climb on you right now.

"i dunno," you laugh, though you sound more pathetic than cheerful, "i miss you. that's why."

"i want you around me constantly," you continue, "but i just feel like—with everything going on—you'll eventually forget about me," you swallow, take a deep breath, "i don't want you to forget me."

when you finally look back up at caleb, your eyes are wide and glassy. he strokes your face once more and you instantly lean into his touch. you press your face against his calloused hand without thinking about it. his hand could be hard as rocks for all you care. he uses his thumb to brush over your eyebrow, stray hairs, and eyelid; he melts at the sight of you like this.

"how could i ever forget you?" caleb voices. his tone is so soft, so gentle. the way he said it reminds you of someone who was asked to solve an impossible math equation. it was impossible for caleb to leave you.

you shake your head, rubbing your cheek against caleb's palm, "you have other things to prioritize. you have all these enemies. all these people to keep up with," you close your eyes and take a long inhale, "i can be needy sometimes, i know that. you won't have time for this."

"hey," he slightly tilts your head up, "look at me," he punctuates every word like a command, and you follow it diligently. you'd follow him to the ends of the earth if he asked.

"first, you're not 'too needy', or anything like that, to me. second," caleb pauses, taking time to trace the shape of your cheekbone with his thumb, admiring you, "i will. i'll always have time for you. call me, and i'll be there. yell for me, and i'll hear you. run to me, and i'll always catch you. and look at me, because i'll always be looking back at you first."

and it's true. how could it not be? you're the first thought on his mind, always. how are you doing? are you safe? are you cold? do you miss him? do you miss him like he misses you—so sullenly and almost lamentful? do you wake up and wish he was in bed next to you?

you shakily exhale, taking slow breaths in and out. you rest your forehead against caleb's while trying your best to synchronize your breathing. caleb follows you easily, still holding on to your face.

you remove his hand from your face and instead interlock his fingers with yours. you grab his hand, putting it in front of your lips. your lips press onto his knuckles and you feel him squeeze your hand just a bit harder.

"promise me," you whisper, "tell me it's true."

caleb presses his forehead harder against yours. the air coming from his nose tickles your face.

"i promise. i'll always promise."

when you look up to meet caleb's eyes, he's already looking at you first.

not my best work but like i had to get this out. lol sorry.

[canisalbus]

Hi, I love your art and made a little witch AU. Hope you don't mind :)

The idea is that Vasco was torn up enough about the injustice of Machete's death and that they never really got a chance to have a happy life together that he was willing to look into… dubious methods

Badabing badaboom Machete's back. They run away together, both because theres nothing left for Machete and to avoid persecution, and spend time together trying to cope with grief, religious trauma and the changing times as their lives are artificially extended

They have a little witch shop :)

(I might make more art later, hope you don't mind if I send it through here)

.

[a-jasminator]

When your best mate is about to go full vengeful and there's only one way to shock him back to his senses...

Companion piece to my fic Spectral Rage!

[idolomantises]

I… don’t really see myself continuing with the Amazing Digital Circus anymore.

[carryonsimoncarryonbaz]

SKATING AU!!

Snow On Ice

Rating: M

Wordcount: 3881

Chapter: 1 of 12ish?

Summary:

This is it, I think to myself. This is the fresh start I wanted. I’ve left all the stress of Agatha and the press and stupid Baz back in the UK. I can really build something here and enjoy the next few months without any drama.

Pairs ice skating champion Simon Snow is looking for a fresh start. After skating with (now ex) girlfriend Agatha for almost 10 years, Snow has no idea who he is alone or what he wants to do with his life. So he’s going to America to star in a tv show about ice skating, leaving all the drama behind.

The last thing he’s prepared for is to spend the next four months sharing a rink, a hotel and a tv studio with rival skating champion Baz Pitch.

Welcome to the second fic I’ve written for @carryon-reverse-bang this year. Snow On Ice is inspired by this enthralling artwork from @iamamythologicalcreature ♥️ I loved the dynamic captured in this image, of Baz being so confident and teasing while Simon tries to keep up with him. It has accidentally sparked a multi-chapter fic which keeps growing every time I work on the outline!!

Massive thanks to @iamamythologicalcreature for not only inspiring this, but being there for spitballing ideas, sending ice skating videos and offering some great editing notes. I can’t wait to see what other artwork she’s plotting for this! Also shout out to my beta @you-remind-me-of-the-babe thank you for all the encouragement and feedback ♥️

Apparently I am incapable of writing a short fic, so this one is multi chapter. The second chapter is already way longer than the first, and I’m only part way through my plan for it 😅 So far I’ve got the outline for the first 9 chapters and I’m going to do my best to get on a semi-regular posting schedule of at least a chapter a month.

Hope you all enjoy reading! If you have any fun ice skating facts you’d be cool with me using, please let me know!! I’m learning so much writing this and I can’t wait to share it all with you XD