#cable fan fiction

[jon-mcbrine-author]

The latest from the Facebook group page - are you down for potential Radcliffe/Cavill Wolvie cameos?

[familiarscars]

Lost In Control | Bad Omens | CHAPTER 07

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

⋆ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. Bad Omens X ex-girlfriend and singer!Reader.

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. You and Noah had a difficult ending but you still need to support each other for the band.

⋆ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒). melancholy, ex-boyfriends, difficult relationships, alcohol abuse, swearing, drug addiction, violence.

It's okay to not agree with the characters' attitudes during the fic. It's good to remember that the story is fiction from the author's sick mind and of course they will make dubious decisions according to my fantasies. Nothing is done to be compared to reality.

Richmond, Virginia, March 20, 2015

“Thank you so much for being here once again!” Gratitude seemed to pour from her voice and adorn her smile. Everyone at Pearl’s bar cheered whenever you stepped on stage and sighed in disappointment when you announced the last song.

It felt almost too surreal.

Gradually, a certain confidence began to settle, and the small stage of that bar—bathed in cozy, colorful lights, walls adorned with posters of '90s bands, and a warm audience—felt more and more like home. Maybe it was a bit arrogant to think you were born for this, but what if you were?

“Did I tell you how good you are today?” His voice reached you just as your hand slid over the zipper after storing the guitar away. You didn’t even need to turn around to recognize the presence that filled the space.

He’d been here. Every single day. For a month.

With the uncanny ability to make the blood vessels in your face dilate, painting your skin crimson, and sending chills up your arms just by hearing the timbre of his voice. Turning around and meeting his brown eyes, sparkling like a precious gem every time they met yours, sent your body into an involuntary reaction.

There was absolutely no way you could stop yourself from smiling when he was by your side, even if the swarm of butterflies nesting in your stomach caused a slight discomfort.

“You say that every time, Noah…” you muttered so softly you thought he hadn’t heard.

“That’s because I’m your biggest fan.”

After flashing a wavering smile and shaking your head to mask the flustered feeling creeping in, you went back to rolling up the sound cables. After every performance, it was your duty to tidy up the place and clean the empty bar before heading home.

Pearl had offered you a spot in the small house she shared with her son in the back of the bar. There weren’t separate bedrooms or many rooms to keep you from bumping into one another, but to you, it was perfect—a place to sleep, eat, and shower.

“Uh…” Noah seemed to rehearse his words, hands buried in his pockets and shoulders hunched as he followed you around the stage. “It’s not that late, and I was wondering if you’d like to go out with me?”

Your body froze in place for a few seconds, cables coiled around your fingers.

“I mean…” he rushed to correct himself. “Don’t get me wrong, please. It’s just an invitation to grab a drink or some food. I promise I’ll get you home before your parents notice you’re gone, or I can talk to them if you’d like, and…”

“I’ll go.”

Finally, he fell silent, his rapid string of words nearly robbing him of breath. Noah slumped his shoulders, and it was hard to tell whether he was surprised you’d agreed or just catching his breath after pulling an Eminem stunt.

“Cool!” was all he managed to say, still looking dazed.

“I just need to finish organizing the sound equipment and cleaning up the bar. If you don’t mind waiting.”

“No. No. No! Of course, I don’t mind waiting.” Noah assured, already glancing at the rest of the disorganized bar. “Actually, I’ve got a better idea.”

It didn’t take long for the place to become a true mess, thanks to Noah’s enthusiasm and the old jukebox in the corner with the help of a coin. Chairs atop tables, soapy water covering the floor, while you both wielded brooms, belting out a metal version of Love Story by Taylor Swift that you’d created. Noah handled the growls, and you performed the melodic verses, sliding across the slippery floor.

For the second time, it struck you how your voices complemented each other, even if it was just a silly game while cleaning a bar that reeked of stale drinks and cigarettes. He seemed to enjoy himself so much that, while pushing water across the floor, you couldn’t help but steal glances at his perfectly aligned smile—a masterpiece framed in laughter.

With unsteady steps dodging the puddles of soap, your body suddenly lost balance. Noah’s quick reflexes allowed him to drop his broom and catch you just in time before you hit the ground.

If there was music still playing, you couldn’t tell what it was anymore. A faint ringing buzzed in your ears as your eyes locked with his.

There wasn’t a single scientific explanation as to why his eyes gleamed so brightly in your presence, and even after seeing him every day for a month at the back of the audience, it still felt like the first time.

“Easy there, little storm!” His voice was soft, carrying a breath of mint as strands of his hair fell across his face. “A hospital date isn’t exactly on my agenda.”

Slowly, Noah helped you back to your feet, his laughter mingling with yours as you both steadied yourselves. Returning to your brooms, you remembered what you were supposed to be doing.

Pearl’s bar was finally back in order—chairs down, floor spotless, stage organized, dishes washed. The strong scent of disinfectant made Noah sneeze, drawing a laugh from you when you saw his reddened nose from the allergy. He kindly helped you gather your belongings, but as you were about to leave, heavy rain poured outside, making him groan in disappointment.

“This wasn’t part of the plan,” he grumbled, gazing at the downpour with a less-than-pleased expression. Somehow, he looked adorable, pouting like that.

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of the rain?” you teased, shrugging off your jacket and tossing it to the floor by the door along with your bag and phone.

“Wait! Where are you going?” Noah asked, furrowing his brows in a mix of concern, trailing after your mischievous smile as you walked backward into the rain. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to get soaked for no reason. We could wait it out or reschedule, and…”

“Boy, you’re so…”

“Boring?” he offered.

“Methodical,” you corrected, raising a finger in the air for emphasis. “You’re afraid of making mistakes, turning it into a constant competition with yourself to make everything perfect. But I have a question for you: When was the last time you felt free?”

The words seemed to strike him, and for a moment, you hesitated, fearing you’d overstepped, noticing how he froze in place. Life had always been a sea of opportunities to you, no matter what they were. You’d always felt alone, even in a crowd, and nothing had stopped you from living.

Nothing had cared enough to cage you, and that made you free.

The trance broke. Noah shook his head, banishing his inner doubts. A smile formed on his lips as he shed his jacket, tossing his phone alongside your things, and sprinted into the rain, squinting against the droplets.

You instinctively began running down the long, empty road, your laughter tangling with his, filling the air. Noah made it a race; taller than you, his long strides were worth two of yours.

Rain clung to your skin, hair plastered to your face, strands obscuring your vision as you desperately glanced over your shoulder, afraid of being caught. With a playful grin, he bit his lip, struggling to see through the downpour.

His laughter was the best song you’d ever heard, and your heart longed to play it on repeat until it soothed the storm raging inside.

When your legs gave out, surrendering, Noah caught you in a surprise move, hoisting you over his shoulder. Your laughter spilled freely, your stomach aching from the joy. Spinning together in the rain, the cold seemed insignificant as adrenaline warmed your bodies.

A dance without music moved you both as Noah clasped your hand, twirling you, your toes barely touching the ground. Every time you lifted your face to the sky, feeling the raindrops and cool breeze, your lips and his curved upward simultaneously.

Attempting another spin, Noah’s foot slipped, sending you both tumbling to the ground. He softened your fall with his arm, and once again, your eyes locked, separated only by the strange-tasting water falling from the sky and dripping from your chins.

Every detail of his face was perfectly sculpted, a maze where you could easily lose yourself—his deep, hopeful, and fiercely brown eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that, boy,” you whispered, almost breathless, as he propped himself up on one arm. “I’m still going to break your heart.”

“I dare you, little storm,” Noah said, his gaze fixed on you as though spellbound, his free hand brushing away a stray lock from your face to study it closely before claiming your lips in one swift motion.

Every ounce of turmoil that had knotted your insides over the past weeks washed away with the rain, as if a new sensation took over your body. Your arms looped around his neck, fingers threading through the damp hair at his nape. There was no other choice for him but to stay. You wanted him to stay.

Noah’s long fingers pressed into your back, gathering the soaked fabric of your shirt, pulling your bodies together with deliberate slowness. He cupped your face, deepening the kiss with an urgency that mirrored the moment he’d first crossed your path.

Noses brushing gently, you both smiled softly, his lips returning to yours. Tilting his head skyward, eyes closed as he murmured something unintelligible. Noah laughed softly, strands of his hair sticking to his forehead and the curve of his nose.

"Please, little storm, tell me I'll see you tomorrow," he whispered, almost like a plea, as his lips brushed against your skin, refusing to open his eyes.

"Absolutely, yes," your voice confirmed as you slowly lifted his face, your fingers tangling in the damp strands of his hair.

A second meeting in a dark basement isn’t exactly what you imagined.

Noah had come down with a terrible cold after last night’s adventure, and in an attempt to stop you from risking his life again, he suggested you come watch his band rehearse. His friends and bandmates were introduced as Folio, Jolly, and Ruffilo. The guys welcomed you with enthusiasm, and for a moment, you felt like you’d known them for years, so naturally did they make you feel part of their group.

“What’s with that face?” Ruffilo asked as soon as the first song ended, slinging his instrument off his shoulder. “Don’t tell me it’s that bad.”

“You have the privilege of seeing us play a private show, and that’s the face you make? Noah, your friend here is kind of rude!” The guy behind the drums joked in an easygoing tone, and you couldn’t help but laugh along with him.

Sitting cross-legged on the couch, you nibbled on your lip while munching on a bag of chips. It wasn’t like you were a music expert, though you’d been breathing it in like air for as long as you could remember, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing.

“I think it was badass!” As soon as you spoke, everyone slumped their shoulders in relief.

“I take back everything I said about her.”

“But something’s missing…” you added, standing up from the couch and brushing your fingers together.

“I take back everything I just said about her.” The guy on the drums simply couldn’t stay quiet.

“Folio, let the girl speak!” Jolly interrupted, and Folio quickly mimed zipping his lips and throwing away the key. “What exactly do you think is missing? I’ve had that same feeling and would love to know I’m not going crazy.”

You began pacing back and forth, your steps deliberate, your fingers curling inside your jeans pockets. Jolly’s question made you reflect on the current metal scene. All their references seemed focused on hardcore, where every song followed a single rhythm.

“How about taking advantage of the fact that the band doesn’t have a set direction yet and trying something different? Like metalcore—it allows for a mix of guttural and melodic vocals, low tunings, and fast riffs. It keeps the sound fresh and avoids the songs blending into each other when the tracks change.” You finished your thought, and the guys exchanged looks as though a divine light had suddenly shone upon them. “Did I say something dumb?”

“Actually, you said something interesting…” Jolly seemed lost in thought for a few seconds, tapping his fingers on a wooden surface.

“Noah said you sing rock and punk at the bar where you work,” the guy holding an energy drink offered you some, but you politely declined. “Why not try doing the melodic vocals on one of our songs? I promise it’s just a test, and we’ll leave you alone afterward. But seriously, look at our desperate faces!”

Ruffilo made a dramatic pout, clasping his hands together like a kid begging for a new pet. Your body tensed at the idea of meddling where you didn’t belong, and you regretted even opening your mouth. Your gaze met Noah’s, who simply winked and nodded, his lips silently mouthing, “You’re good” over and over.

Suddenly, his hand appeared next to yours, holding a microphone. As much as you wanted to refuse, the words stuck in your throat as Noah took your hand and placed the mic in it.

There was no turning back.

“THAT WAS FUCKING AWESOME!” Folio yelled as he struck the final cymbal.

“You were absolutely right! We needed to combine guttural and melodic vocals!” Jolly, almost talking to himself, continued tapping his fingers on a wooden surface. He gave what looked like the shadow of a smile, and that seemed like a good sign.

“So it seems my plan worked…”

Noah surprised you by wrapping his arms around you from behind, planting a kiss on your temple and lingering as he inhaled the scent of your hair.

“Plan?” You turned abruptly to face him.

“I brought you here because ever since I first saw you at the bar and we sang together, I knew I wanted you to sing with me in my band��now our band—and I won’t take no for an answer!” he declared, pinching the tip of your nose. “You’re good. You’re really good!”

Your shocked gaze flicked from him to the other band members, who looked just as excited as he was.

“Welcome to Bad Omens, little storm.”

After saying goodbye to the boys, Noah promised to drive you home. While he finished grabbing his things from the garage, you decided to step outside for some air and take the opportunity to smoke a cigarette.

Becoming the vocalist of a band at this point in your life wasn’t exactly on your bingo card for the year, and you had no idea how you’d balance it with your job at the bar, especially since saving money was still your top priority. But everything had felt so simple down there. There was no trace of her voice in your head telling you that your voice was as cursed as the abomination you were. There was absolutely nothing capable of stealing the feeling that coursed through you every time your voice and Noah’s harmonized.

It was impossible to predict where this would lead in the future, but for the first time, you felt happy. You belonged to something where you could be yourself without it costing you your freedom.

You were finally you.

Your thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the screech of tires on asphalt. Startled, you turned to see a car speeding toward you from the other side of the road, threatening to mount the sidewalk where you stood. In an impulsive move, you threw yourself to the side, landing hard on the rough, gravel-strewn ground, a gasp of pain escaping your lips.

When you looked at the car—one you knew all too well—your entire body tensed, frozen on the ground. For a moment, you forgot about the scrape on your arm as your eyes locked on the driver.

“Found you, little girl,” Seth announced, grinning beneath his scruffy beard.

“Hey, what’s going on out here?” Noah’s voice, muffled by his hurried footsteps, cut through the tension. As he approached, Seth rolled up the window and shifted into reverse, speeding away down the wrong side of the road.

When Noah got closer, his brows furrowed as he tried to make sense of the situation. He quickly crouched down, and you threw yourself into his arms. Without saying a single word, you clung to him so tightly that your fingers dug deep into his skin, your legs trembling uncontrollably.

“Shhh,” he whispered, wrapping his arms even tighter around you to hold you securely. “I’m not going anywhere.”

But everything seemed to hit your mind all at once. In seconds, you weren’t in Noah’s arms anymore—you were somewhere else, a filthy place as vile as your skin felt and as repulsive as the stench surrounding you. Your arms and legs turned immobile, locking up like a cramp, as the sensation of him closing in grew stronger and stronger. You wanted to scream, but nothing came out. He had severed your vocal cords because he enjoyed watching you cry.

Seth had stolen everything from you. And no matter where you tried to rebuild yourself, their shadow would always be there.

⭑ @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard ; @anarchydomainglory ; @iluvmewwwww75 ; @foliosgirl

[blacktofade]

Gemtho Fortnight Day 4

Prompt: rpf with the hermits talking casually about fics and someone (maybe bdubs) is like "man there's barely any fics about me and etho anymore they're only writing about him and gem" (or whatever. just so the topic comes up) but gem has such a hugeeee crush and she's so flustered and embarrassed and doesn't want etho to be uncomfortable and meanwhile etho's worried about /gem/ being uncomfortable

cw: rpf

“You know,” Bdubs starts, and Gem can almost picture his expression behind his computer screen — thoughtful, a little sly. “I don’t think they ship me and Etho like they used to.”

Gem’s elbow slips off her desk, her character in-game suddenly looking straight down at the ground, and she can hear the soft exhale of laughter Bdubs lets out, like he’s noticed.

She wonders if she can get away with pretending she never heard, if she can say Winnie got loose and distracted her and, oh, look at the time, she has to go for a thing she promised someone else —

“What are you saying about me?” Etho suddenly asks, his voice in her left ear as he moves closer, and Gem takes her hand off her keyboard to cover her eyes with one palm, face burning as she tries her best to silently beg the universe for mercy.

There’s no such luck.

“Do you remember that lecture I gave you about Dark Twitter?” Bdubs asks, and she can hear it in his voice, how he’s almost laughing, delighted at the opportunity to shit-stir. “Y’know, the shipping stuff that fans do? Pretending that we’re in love.”

Gem’s next best hope is that the ground will open and swallow her. 

“Bdubs,” she warns, because she might not be streaming, but that doesn’t mean that no one else is. Anyone could fly by and catch a snippet of what he’s saying, and she can only imagine the fallout online if that happens.

“It’s fine, Gem. Etho knows all about it, don’t you?”

She’s not worried about Etho.

“I, uh,” Etho starts and she can tell by his tone that he already regrets showing up and interrupting them.

“It’s okay,” Bdubs interrupts. “All you need to know is that Gem’s your new love interest.”

“Gem’s my new what?”

The head of Etho’s character swivels to stare right at her and Gem suddenly finds herself needing to pace in-game, her fingers tapping at the keys nervously as she parkours across the terrain around them.

“I have no idea what he’s talking about,” Gem lies and now Bdubs is staring at her too.

“I mean, it’s not surprising with the amount you two hang out together now. I happened to think the footage of you both digging the tunnel between your bases was cute.”

“Was it?” Gem questions, hoping that acting clueless will save her instead, but Bdubs hums quietly, like she won’t like what’s about to come out of his mouth.

“You keep saying you’re an Ethogirl, right? That you grew up watching him. It’s a cute match-up.”

Gem thinks about pulling the ethernet cable straight out the back of her desktop. It would be easy to blame it on a power-outage.

“I think you’re confusing fact and fiction again,” she mutters and Bdubs laughs.

“Oh, you’re right!” he says, too chipper for his own good. “It sounded like I was suggesting you two date in real life.”

Etho makes a noise, like a grunt of surprise, and Bdubs finally turns his view away from her to stare at him instead.

“Though, I mean, you’re both in Canada, right? It’s not beyond the realm of possibility.”

Bdubs apparently doesn’t know when to quit.

“Have you thought about dating Impulse?” Gem snaps, and Bdubs laughs before she even finishes the thought. “You’re both in the States. It’s not beyond the realm of possibility.”

Even Etho joins in, almost like his laughter slips out without permission. “She’s got you there, Bdubs.”

“If Impulse asked me out, I would be a perfect gentleman,” Bdubs tells them, and Gem has a headache brewing that might put her on the couch for the rest of the day. “How many bases do you think he’d let me round after one date?”

“I’m going,” Gem says suddenly, because if there was ever an out, that’s it. “You two can talk about Bdubs’ romantic exploits, but I have stuff to build.”

Bdubs laughs, but doesn’t try to argue, apparently done with his teasing, and Gem can almost taste freedom.

Until Etho says, “I’m sure a date with Gem wouldn’t be the worst I’ve been on.”

And Gem logs off.

[justatasteofyourpoison]

We interrupt this broadcast for a brief intermission…

(A Hazbin Hotel/Alastor x Fem Reader fan fiction)

Part 8

Pairing: Alastor x Female reader

Warnings: 18+, swearing, smut, sexual content, p in v, rough sex (not for me, but maybe you), fluff, not the best grammar.

Word count: 1.1kish

____________________________________________

The rain drops slowly slid down the window pane as you looked out at the gloomy sky. You and Alastor had thankfully made it home before it started to pour. Of course Alastor could use his powers to whisk you both home, but he was always reluctant to transport you if he didn’t need to for some reason…

Alastor was sat on the bed, he seemed quieter than usual after the revelations in the forest. He had revealed that he’d become this powerful overlord because of Vox. Vox was Hell’s somewhat charismatic Television Demon who was part of a threesome called the V’s, which also included Valentino and Velvette. Valentino was the biggest porn producer in hell (not to mention Vox’s incredibly hot-headed plaything) and Angel Dust’s nefarious master in the studio. Whereas Velvette was a social media star, fashionista and general loudmouth… You knew Alastor and Vox have always had beef, but you had never found out why…

“Are you alright Alastor?” You whispered quietly taking a seat next to him on the bed.

“Apologies my dear, I didn’t mean to lose my composure back there” he said smoothing the sides of his hair down. You hadn’t really thought anything of it, you’d seen Alastor lose his temper before, that was nothing. But you knew he was a proud being and liked to always be in control, or at least appear that way…

“I just hate thinking of that wretched waste of cables…” he sighed putting his arm round you. You nuzzled your head into his neck. You relished any affection that you received from Alastor. No other beings in Hell got to see him like this so you couldn’t help but feel giddy.

He kissed the top of your head before you felt his hands gently move under your chin, tilting your head so he could look deep into your eyes. You both sat there for a moment, lost… Catching fire... His lips met yours softly before he worked his tongue in to dance with yours. Your hands instinctive moved to hold his face in yours as you both got lost in the passion. His face felt chiseled, his muscles toned from years of wearing a smile. You pulled away gently “Alastor” you whispered “what happened with you and Vox?” you questioned.

“I’ll get to that” he said pressing his lips back onto yours in another fit of passion.

“Let’s have some fun before that story” he mumbled breathlessly in-between kisses.

The Radio Demon moved his large frame over you and gently eased your thighs apart before gingerly laying himself down onto you, the size difference between you both was quite staggering. You could feel his hardness pressing into your crotch and you couldn’t help but gently start rocking your hips. His breathing became heavier and quiet moans left his mouth. He moved a clawed hand onto your breast and massaged it lightly, his thumb brushing against your nipple. You pushed the demon away for a moment and he knelt over you, you never could get over that sight - this powerful overlord wanted you? You hitched your dress up over your head and could see the Demon’s grin grow wider and he swiftly began undressing too. Before you knew it you were both naked and Alastor laid back down onto you, his cock gently rubbing up and down your now sodden slit. He bit into your neck and you yelped with pleasure before you could feel him easing himself into you.

“Alastor…” you groaned

“There’s my girl” he whispered as his finally thrust the entirety of his large cock inside you and began thrusting with a hypnotic rhythm.

This time with Alastor felt different. The urgency was there, but at the same time he seemed to be enjoying your body more; taking his time with you. You jolted your head back into the pillow with euphoria at the Demon’s movements.

He thrusted hard and slow into you and kissed you deeply, periodically pulling his face away to gaze into your eyes. You could feel him massaging your clit as he gyrated his groin against you and you reveled in the heat building in your loins, you dug your nails into his buttocks and pulled him closer to you, begging him not to stop on your path to ecstasy. As you came your hungry cunt pulsated around Alastor and he let out a satisfied moan “I’m so glad I can please you” he cooed biting at the top of your ear.

“But we’re not done here yet.” He teased pulling out of you and turning you on your side.

He spooned his body against yours and lifted your thigh up in his large powerful hand. With his other hand he pushed himself back into you. In this position his cock pressed firmly against you sweet spot and you soon found yourself gripping the bed, the pleasure was almost too much. “C’mon my sweet” the demon growled “I know you can come for me again”. He let your leg down which made your pussy grip tighter around him. “Fuck Alastor!” You screamed as he clapped hard against your buttocks.

“Careful my dear.” He panted “Heaven might hear you at this rate” he laughed loudly reaching his hand round and rubbing your clit with firm circular motions. His cock hit you just where you wanted it and you let out an animalistic groan, shocking yourself as you could hear a new static sound in your voice. You turned round to the see Demon’s eyes grow bright as his thrusts became harder and faster at your noises. His claws gripped at your hips creating small tears over previous silver scars he had left. “Oh fuck! Y/N!” He roared as his cock pulsed inside you, giving the demon the release he so desired.

As you both slowly recovered from the activities Alastor gently eased himself out of you and pulled you close to him, his head lazily resting on your shoulder.

“Well that was unexpected! You chuckled, placing your hand behind you both and giving his arse a little squeeze “I was expecting story time part two.”

“Part two?” the Radio Demon yawned.

“Yes you were telling me about you and Vox?” you reminded him gently. A few moments passed. No response. You then heard quiet snores behind you.

“These rutting deer” you whispered, “they’re all trousers and no talk” you laughed to yourself before snuggling back into the sound asleep Radio Demon.

____________________________________________

All installments:

[ghostingpen]

what's in my bag

i saw a tumblr post asking people who carry bags what items are there to bring other than “chapstick, keys, phone and maybe a tampon” and tbh that stuck with me. so here is everything i keep in my bag because i like to be That Backpack Person who has everything for any common occurrence.

after years of experimenting with my everyday carry, trying out trendy backpacks such as the fjällräven kanken and the doughnut macaroon, i surprisingly now find myself reaching for the jansport right pack backpack the most.

look at it in all its glory decked out in pins, buttons, and charms. i recently wore it going apple picking at an orchard and had no issues.

so here are its contents:

front small pocket:

mini emergency kit (i’m reusing an old gum container to keep small things i find myself needing often: bandaids, painkillers, hair ties, loose cash to give to the local homeless, four quarters in case i go to ALDI or want a gumball) + pocket tissues (this is what i run low on the most) + mini UNO cards (waiting in line with friends? play UNO) + tide to go pen + 2-in-1 battery bank/plug-in charger + phone charging cable + d20 dice (stimmy)

front medium pocket:

wallet + coin purse (to collect loose change) + disposable pens + e-reader + car keys + work ID + vape

water bottle pocket: 

the 24-oz owala water bottle is, and i’m not sponsored when i say this, the best water bottle i’ve ever used. the design is genius.

laptop pocket:

reusable shopping bag (i impulse buy a lot so this is useful) + one “big” tech thing and its charger for entertainment purposes. i like to have multiple entertainment options because i’m mentally ill. i’m currently carrying my steam deck OLED with me but i may sometimes instead bring one of these:

ipad: for web browsing, drawing, word processing.

freewrite alpha: my current way to write fiction. think a modern alphasmart that lets you transfer files locally or sync to the cloud if you prefer that.

work laptop: for work.

main pocket: 

mini tote (i use this to easily transfer whatever’s in the main pocket to another bag) + journal (a traveler’s notebook) + large emergency kit (sanitary pads, herbal oil for aches, eczema hand cream, earplugs, makeup wipes) + noise-canceling headphones + electric fan + hobonichi drawer pouch (other charging cables, wig caps, bobby pins, gorilla glue, facial wipes) + compact umbrella + pencil case

pencil case:

mechanical pencil + pencil lead + mini sticky notes + multi-ruler + white gel pen + glue stick + eraser + scissors + highlighter + brush pen + metal pen (it works like an 8 ball where you roll it and it shows you an 8ball-esque answer)

what you put in your bag is a very personal thing! i am always fascinated by the different ways people hold their things and what they find worth carrying around.

[constant-eggs]

Hello! I’m back and appreciate your recommendations for good fan fiction of:

Catra/Adora

Ray/Nora — Legends of Tomorrow

Cat/Kara — Supergirl

Michael Scofield/Sara Tancredi — Prison Break

Azula — Gen or femslash doesn’t matter. I’m just looking for a good character driven story with Azula. It’s fine if other characters are still the main focus as long as Azula has a good story.

Carlos and Lydia — Cable Girls

Bonnie/Damon — Vampire diaries. Alternatively any Bonnie fic that’s in character and in universe where she gets to shine.

Paris/Rory — I’ve read The Best of It, One Fine Day and Boston Marriage. I’m hoping to find a hidden gem that has less kudos.

Regina/Emma — OUAT

Xena/Gabrielle

In universe if possible. Thank you!!

[offbeat-manga-ships]

this is a weird sort of thing to say but i am like. so deeply appreciative your blog isn't mostly m/m stuff. bc like you i don't have a lot of interest in m/m (for me though this is mostly because i love women So Much my brain sort of shuts off if the story doesn't have women in it, i basically never enjoy a story that lacks women) and a lot of other blogs or accounts i've seen of this time tend to skew heavily with yaoi works bc. well a lot more yaoi works get the "freedom" to be "grosser", messier, less saccharine bc people are a lot more cagey about what girls get to do in fiction across the board..... i really really am so grateful you've got so many recommendations for series that are more to my taste in general and tend to feature a lot of messy and interesting women! not to say that's like Why You Do It, but it's a really refreshing thing since almost every time I go to hunt something fucky down it's m/m. the sheer volume of m/m overwhelms other series but you're bringing those ones into view and i've found a lot of really interesting series thanks to how you run things around here so thank you so much......

ANON!!!! IT'S A SUCH A PLEASURE TO RECEIVE A MESSAGE LIKE THIS!!! because i don't know if you guys know, and to be honest i don't remember if i deleted that part to make it easier to read or not, but i'm pretty sure that in the first iterations of my pinned post i went a little bit into why M/M is not my thing. i am exactly in the same boat of having ALWAYS been more into female characters than everyone around me. my mother has always teased me for it, my friends have always had varying degrees of "huh that's curious" to "weeell i don't care. how about that male character instead?" i was the person defending sansa stark and loving cersei lannister. i was lowkey in love with sharpay while pretending i didn't care about her, my favorite character from percy jackson was and still is annabeth chase, i loved sakura haruno and rukia kuchiki the most, i fucking HATED when anyone said anything bad about leia organa in star wars and it just became a pattern throughout my life that i would come to fiercly love female characters.

i mentioned before how i started watching shoujo when i got the 12 yo version of Being Serious about anime, but i also need to give credit to getting female friends in middle school and even more in high school with whom i talked about romance manga (some also real BL enthusiasts, but they still read some of what i read. honestly, i think it always came a surprise to them how much i liked some stuff the anime fans in general tended to turn their nose up to). 

and i literally won't ever forget when my friend gabrielle showed me the pride and prejudice movie in 9th grade i think and i honest to god had no idea i could love something so overtly aimed at women that much. like, sure i've been casually watching cartoons aimed at girls (if you didn't have cable tv, you watched the cartoons open tv made available to you in the saturday mornings. and yeah i watched and enjoyed totally spies and powerpuff girls and thought kim possible was really cool, but my bread and butter was still ben 10, naruto, jake long, static shock etc. it wasn't just me in the house though. every relative i had at that point from mom to aunties to grandma and cousins: all of them women. we had plenty of girl movies and all of us got together to watch melodramatic soap operas in the evening).

but anyway my point is that i really opened up my personal media consumption after feeling such love for this "chick lit" movie (which of course is actually a great and important piece of western literature which became one of my favorite books not only because i'm still in love with lizzy bennet to this day but also because it's so SO DAMN FUNNY. i laugh out every time i re-read it.) i started watching romantic comedies, i watched series like pretty little liars and whatever seemed to have a bunch of girls in the cover lol and yes, i started reading even more romance manga. even with my 12 yo shoujo watching, i still wasn't fully into those shows. i really liked some of the protagonists (much love to misaki ayuzawa, nanami momozono, haruhi fujioka and risa koizumi but i also could not be fully into whatever was transpiring between such cool girls and those guys LOL). but it was because of the influence of my girl friends and exchanging ideas about what manga to read that i fully found my place in smaller niche romance manga with odd couples and interesting women. 

and it's not like i'm not capable of enjoying media with a lot of guys in it, so i'm a little bit different from you in that regard. i have plenty of favorite male characters and one of my favorite movies ever is master and commander: the far side of the world and that has not a single woman in sight except in one picture and one 5 second shot 💀 obviously, it's not my only favorite movie (they're mostly dominated by women too). as a bi person, of course some men catch my eye once in a while and it's true that sometimes (though it's rare) it's a m/m couple that gets my main attention in a random piece of media. and that's because i'm not like a person with any agenda. i'm fully and wholeheartedly following my instincts (basically a somewhat lighter version of you. my brain also kinda shuts off when it's all the same old Men At The Forefront business and i have to work towards trying to care lol) and it just so happens that i think girls are fucking cool. i don't know if i've said that already, but the main reason i decided to stick with tumblr even though i didn't initially get the appeal of it was because i could find a lot of lesbians here LOL and true, some of them were fujoshi but a lot of them honest to god liked female characters and saw their appeal as i saw them.

and just to wrap this up, i want to clarify that me clearly having an involuntary preference for female characters was not one of the reasons i laid down on that other post when i said why i wasn't as drawn to m/m but it was basically just because i was trying to list reasons that had to do with what m/m had to offer me and not just what it lacks. i sincerely try to approach any story with an open mind and an open heart and i have done that many times even though i realized soon enough that seeing those trope-filled romantic scenarios between manga boys is just really not for me. if you're curious about the type of m/m i like, it's basically the unexpected kind in random non-lgbt media with (probably) tortured men in it and a severe lack of women and it always has been. which is why going after specific m/m media doesn't appeal to me as much (though i can still enjoy it. i really really loved watching the interview with the vampire show for example and even though i didn't like louis/lestat — as i hadn't liked then watching the movie years ago —, i still loved the characters and enjoy a few other m/m pair possibilities).

i'm sorry i went on this whole thing with this many words, but i just want to say, not only do i see you anon, i am you!!! if this blog is for anyone, you are at around the top of the list of people i wished to reach and knowing i could help and connect with someone else who feels the same way i do is such a warm and priceless gift. i understand your frustrations of female characters being more limited very well. not only because i love them, but i abhor any injustice since i was 3 apples tall and that has bothered me since the first signs of the development of my critical thinking skills. but ultimately i also can't help but love manga and i want to find the gems and celebrate varied, complex, weird or even toxic female characters and their messy relationships as much as i can.

[ishomieokay]

Hi! (Big rant I'm sry, I am such a yapper)

What do you think of homelander x starlight ?

For me atleast, I think it's a missed opportunity to develop both of their characters. They have so much parallels going on. I wouldn't say I wanted a full blown romance in s3, but more of a confusion about who is really is the enemy from starlight's side- since homelander is the biggest victim of Vought . And from homelander's side, every women in his life except for maeve have somehow used and taken advantage of him, starlight is the last person who would do that ! He would be really confused that she isn't doing that. She also never knew his horrid past that too.

I don't think homelander is a character who could really be redeemed, he is so long gone for that. But their fake dating arc could have opened so many doors for both of their character development.

I knw I am being delusional enough to think that he is very much obsessed with starlight in s4 as much as he is obsessed with butcher. Like she is his nemesis who stood up against him for godsake idk why the show has watered down her purpose to petty rival with firecracker. Eric kripke is so bad at writing the show Lord 😭✋

Yes, she was watered down without a doubt. And again and again, Billy is given an importance he doesn't really deserve. The whole nemesis thing he has going on with Homelander makes no fucking sense to me. Ryan has no reason to care that much about Butcher. Beyond the fact that Butcher is relentlessly trying to fuck him over, Homelander has no reason to be so obsessed with him either. Narratively speaking, Starlight should be his nemesis, not Butcher.

I actually am such a BIG FAN of Starlander. Weakness by RovingOtter is an amazing fic about them that honestly changed my brain chemestry. Not to mention it's the main reason why I like Homelander so much.

I realize this is an unpopular opinion in the fandom, but I don't think the issue is so much that Homelander is past redemption. It's just that the writers don't want that to happen. The narrative is not going there, even thought THERE ARE elements that would allow it to happen. For example, I don't see Homelander becoming a hero in any capacity, but after all the abuse he was subjected to by humans, he could have easily fallen in a more morally gray area a la Magneto. The writers are just not interested in exploring that because they are all about politics (which I do believe was a direct result of the US elections) and to get their message across Homelander needs to be an irredeemable Big Bad. If they redeemed fucking A-Train and even made Hughie forgive him after *killing Robin and laughing about it*, everyone gets a pass in my opinion though.

Also, it's about the times. You'd find that the main reason why many people don't want Homelander to be redeemed is that he is a rapist. Nowadays that's just unacceptable. Believe or not, back in the 2000s it was something forgivable and sometimes even expected in certain genres (I'm looking at you yaoi). Talking about Western media, I think the most obvious example of this is Spike trying to rape Buffy, his love interest, in Buffy the Vampire Slayer. That wouldn't fly today, lol.

The dubiously consensual (or just uh, not consensual) sex scene or attempted rape between the main couple was also a super common trope in Soap Operas back in the day. Don't mind me I'm Latin American and for a long time I didn't have cable.

Anyway, I'm rambling. My point is Homelander is never going to be redeemed in canon, but as far as fanfiction goes, who cares? It's fiction, and you can do whatever you want with fictional characters. The world is your playground!

Homelander does have some parallels with Starlight, but tbh, that's not really the reason why I ship them. He actually has much more parallels with Kimiko (which is also an amazing ship in my opinion, and it really doesn't get the recognition it deserves!). He also has parallels with Butcher, with Soldier Boy, and even with Frenchie. So that's not really what I look at when shipping.

I think Starlight is the only character who could potentially see anything good or worth saving in Homelander, and just that makes their relationship very interesting to me. The fact that they are archenemies (or they would be, if the show made any sense), is the cherry on top. We love some good enemies-to-lovers here!

[yet-another-deanw-girl]

Chapter 6: A Girl Stuck in a Bunker

||The Prophecy Series||

She knew for 15 years that this day would come. She knew her destiny had already been written. That her death had been foretold.

She knew she would have to stop him. She knew she would have to kill him. And she thought she was prepared for all of it. But the day she met him she realized how wrong she was…

Set in Season 10

Pairing: MoC!Dean x Female!OC

Warnings: the usual SPN, language, miner injury

Episode mapping: This chapter takes place during several episodes - episode 5 of season 10 "Fan Fiction", episode 6 of season 10 "Ask Jeeves", episode 7 of season 10 "Girls, Girls, Girls", episode 8 of season 10 "Hibbing 911"

Note: The events of this story are following season 10 of Supernatural and are taking place between October 2014 and July 2015. I tried to make sure that all the references to weapons, tech, etc. are accurate with the time period.

AN: This is my first time writing a fanfic but the story has been in my head for too long and it just needed to get out. I hope you like it.

AN: English is not my first language, I apologize for any mistakes.

After a half an hour argument between Dean and Sam, a couple days after we first met, I was allowed to have my phone and my laptop back. 

Another five days after that, I was granted permission to take some adapters, cables and tools from my car but Sam was with me the entire time. 

After two weeks living together in the bunker, Sam accepted the fact that he cannot follow me everywhere and watch my every move.

He is still barely talking to me and throws me measuring looks every time we pass each other in the hallway.

Created with Microsoft Designer

The boys are on a hunt, some drama teacher went missing after rehearsal, and I'm buried in cables, gears and tools. I had connected to the bunker's mainframe and am trying to figure out what is wrong with it. The poor thing has not been upgraded since the 1940s. So… I took the drastic decision to make some improvements while I'm searching for the main problem. This is exactly how I ended up tangled in an inferno of wires. And this is how the boys find me when they come back from the case. "Wow… Is that what you did when we were gone? Are you sure you know what you are doing?" "Yes, I'm sure…" I pick my head from under the counter. "Oh my God! And those glasses! You are trying to check all the nerdy boxes or something?" "Glasses or no glasses, I can still…" I start with a cold tone but when I look at Dean, I see the sneer on his face "Oh! You think you're funny?" "I know for a fact that I am!" "You are not." I say but the smile on my face contradicts my words. "How was the case?" "It was… strange… even for us."

I'm laughing uncontrollably after Dean finished telling me about the case. Yes… I'm laughing with the man I'm going to kill… My attempts to keep him away are not going as well as expected. "There are books about you! And they did their own interpretation of your lives!? In a musical!? I… I can't… That's the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. I'll have to check those books…" "Don't you even dare!" I return my focus to my work but I keep randomly bursting into laughter in the next few hours.  This is hilarious!  Books and musicals!  I'll definitely have to find those books.  That's an interesting concept, a prophet turned author.  Did some person like this Chuck, have also written my prophecy? And if so, did they know more about how I am supposed to stop the unstoppable Knight of Hell? But even if they did… this was at least 15 years ago… and since there can be only one prophet at a time… and the boys know at least two… Another dead end…

"What the hell?" I hear Dean yelling from the kitchen. I rush through the maze of hallways and almost bump into Sam on the kitchen's doorway. "Dean? What's going on?" Sam asks. "What's going on?! What the hell is this!" He points to the countertop.

Image from Pinterest

"An espresso machine, obviously." I answer and roll my eyes with annoyance.  He scared the shit out of me!  And for what!?  He is such a drama queen.  "I can no longer drink this vomit you Americans call coffee." "But…" "I'm not forcing you to use it! Yours is still there. You can keep using it. But I can't." I turn around and head to the door.  I see Sam trying to contain his smile. He is really enjoying this situation but will never show it in front of me. "How did this appear here?" He asks instead. "Online shopping, Sam… Don't worry. I ordered just a coffee machine… No weapons… I promise…" "You ordered it here!?" "I picked it up from the delivery center in town… I'm not stupid! I know how to keep a bunker a secret, remember?"

My schedule is an infinite loop of little to no sleep, coffee in large doses, coding, debugging and searching through every corner of the bunker's system I can think about, more coffee and pizza.  And then again.  And again.  The boys had been on a couple of hunts, but the way they are searching for cases is inefficient. They go through the internet and local news sites for unusual occurrences. I thought all the bunkers have a notification system… But maybe this one is too old for that… Maybe I should write them an algorithm for this.

I notice Sam is carefully watching Dean. Again. He started to do that after their last case.  Something had happened that made Sam worried.  But he will never tell me.  All I know is that it was a case involving a shifter.  It sounded like an Agatha Christie novel. The maid turns out to be the daughter of the late rich lady and a shifter. And was planning to kill all her greedy family members. She had tricked the boys by giving them fake silverware and they were not able to identify her as the shifter until much later.  "That's why I'm always wearing my rings." I told Dean while sitting on the couch. "This one is silver, the other one - iron, and this one - steel." But something else had happened on that case that makes Sam worry about Dean. "There is still time. At least 5 months. Maybe more." I say to Sam when we happened to be in the kitchen at the same time. "I'm not going to let you kill him. I'll find another way." Is the only thing he says to me and walks out of the room. "Do you honestly believe that I want to do it?" I mutter to myself.

"Em, we are going." Dean shouts.  The boys were digging through the Men of Letters archive for the past 4 days.  When they are in the bunker, I spend a lot of time with Dean. Sometimes just sitting in the library, other times he stays with me for hours in the mainframe room, exchanging stories and talking about old cases.  And here they are going again on a hunt.  I have left the bunker a couple of times to go to town for supplies or for the next package of equipment or gear for the bunker's upgrade but for the most time I was stuck in here.

"Ok, sit here. Easy, be careful."  The boys are back. I walk in the library and see Sam sitting on the edge of the table, an arrow sticking from his right shoulder. "What happened?" "It was an accident. We were at this sheriff's retreat and there was a weapons exhibit. One of the deputies didn't know how to handle a crossbow." Dean answers me. Sam is ignoring me, like usual. "Need help with it?" "I don't need and I don't want your help." Sam declares. I'm going to leave the room and leave them to handle it themselves when I see Dean preparing to try and break the arrow. "Stop!" I yell before he can cause irreversible damage to his brother's shoulder. "It looks like you don't have an idea how to handle an arrow too..." I try to wipe my hands clean of all the grime while I walk to them. My efforts are in vain so I grab some medical gloves from the first aid kit. "I said, I do not want your help." Sam tries to protest. "Oh my god! I don't care! Now shut up!" I cut him off, frustrated. He is so unbelievably stubborn! "It's an arrow made of carbon. Unless you have a flex or a wire cutter, you are not going to break it!" I explain, seeing their confusion. "Dean, move aside! And give me your belt." "If you want me naked, you just have to say so." Dean retorts playfully. "Really?" I look at him and roll my eyes. Those boys are dancing on my nerves today. "Now! The belt!" While Dean is unbuckling his belt I start to unroll the tail of the carbon arrow. When Dean gives me his belt I make Sam bite on it.  "I'm not..." He tries to protest again but I just tilt my head to the side and look at him with a 'oh, you are' look. I had enough with his attitude for today. He seems to understand because he just does as I had told him. The younger Winchester is too tall and I can not pull out the arrow from this angle so I climb on the table. "Are you ready, big guy?" I ask Sam. He stiffens but I don't wait for his answer before swiftly pulling the arrow out. He grunts and clenches his teeth. "Затова беше коланът." I whisper. *That's what the belt was for.* I climb down from the table and see that Dean is staring at me with wide eyes. I take Sam's left hand and make him put pressure on the wound. "Now, you can treat it like a bullet wound. You know what to do with this, right?" Dean just nods, still staring at me.  I ignore him, remove the gloves and go to the kitchen to make myself a coffee. "And make sure he puts it in a sling!" I yell.

Created with Microsoft Designer

I make Sam sit on the edge of the table. We had been injured too many times but an arrow, that is something new. "What happened?" Em enters the library. "It was an accident. We were at this sheriff's retreat and there was a weapons exhibit. One of the deputies didn't know how to handle a crossbow." I explain. "Need help with it?" "I don't need and I don't want your help." Sam's distrust and animosity towards her hadn't changed with the past few weeks. It was not like him at all. I'm preparing to break the tail of the arrow like I have seen in the movies but I freeze when I hear a sharp "Stop!" Emilia is strolling through the room towards us. "It looks like you don't have an idea how to handle an arrow too..." She fails to wipe her hands in her jeans so she grabs some gloves from the first aid kit.  She is covered in grime and dust, her hair in the usual braid, her glasses perched on her nose. The bunker's mainframe must have not been cleaned like… ever. I realize she has been stuck in that small room for more than a month now. "I said, I do not want your help." Sam repeats again. "Oh my god! I don't care! Now shut up!"  This woman definitely has some sass in her, when she is not trying to hold back and act like a soldier. This is the first time I have seen her snap like that.  "It's an arrow made of carbon. Unless you have a flex or a wire cutter, you are not going to break it!" I never in a million years imagined that someone talking about power tools would turn me on so badly! "Dean, move aside! And give me your belt." "If you want me naked, you just have to say so." I retort but I'm surprised by her taking charge of the situation like that. "Really?" She glares at me through her glasses. "Now! The belt!" I just shrug and give her the belt. She unscrews the tail of the arrow. Hm, so that's how it's done? Then she makes Sam bite the belt. "I'm not.." Sam starts to protest but obviously the look on Emilia's face makes him shut up. The look on his face is one of fury.  The next second she climbs on the table which makes my jaw drop. Her left knee is on Sam's right side, her right knee… between my brother's legs. She is practically straddling his leg. Sam visibly stiffens and stares at me over her shoulder in shock. The look on my face mirrors his. "Are you ready, big guy?" Em acks and I arch my brow. Before Sam can even react, she jerks the arrow from his shoulder. Sam grunts and Em mutters something before hopping down from the table. She grabs Sam's other hand and makes him put pressure on his shoulder then she turns to me. The shock and disbelief on my face must be obvious but she completely ignores it. "Now, you can treat it like a bullet wound. You know what to do with this, right?" I nod and she turns around and leaves the room tossing the medical gloves in the bin next to the door. "And make sure he puts it in a sling!" She yells from the hallway. "Did she… Did she just climbed on you, straddled you and called you a 'big guy'?"  Sam chokes.  "Well…" I look at the doorway where she had disappeared. "She is hot when she is bossy."

Chapter 7: The Fates >>

||The Prophecy Series||

[rilu-artblog]

You ever see a take so bad about that it makes you want to actually post something?

Anyways Gerald and Sheila do love each other, they just happen to be characters in a long running dark comedy cable tv show so of course their relationship is gonna appear whack sometimes

Warning for discussion of characters fictional sex life below, no photos but I just wanna make sure y’all know what you’re in for:

1. “They’re not sexually attracted to each other anymore”

Bro what show are you watching??

These two have literally never cheated on the other (both of the Cartman’s dad episodes imply that they both slept with Liane so maybe they did have a threesome) and Gerald not getting an erection that one ep is because.

He’s an older guy. Not because he’s not attracted to his wife anymore. In fact it’s probably why they do their UPS role plays and why Sheila is ok with Gerald watching porn, it shows how healthy their sex life is. Like, Sheila straight up had sex with Chef and was just outside the room like how was it honey :)

We clearly see them having sex with each other many times, but I’ve seen some arguments say that because their room is dark when they have sex, it clearly means Gerald doesn’t want to see Sheila and hates having sex with her? I’m sure many couples have sex in low lighting, but in-universe they probably turn off the lights so that their kids don’t come into the room (which clearly never works lol). Or out of universe, the network won’t allow them to show a full sex scene on cable tv (considering they also don’t allow them to show full frontal nudity except for the movie and streaming eps).

Anyways, tldr: the Broflovski’s love having sex with each other probably to the detriment of their sons lol.

2. However, I can get why some people don’t see them as emotionally loving each other. We see lots of moments where Gerald is scared of Sheila and Sheila can get really pissed off with him.

And of course, a lot of these moments come from Gerald, as while he’s not wrong sometimes that Sheila can be meddlesome, he does hide a lot of his shit from her because he’s afraid of being (rightfully) punished. Especially in season 20, we do see Sheila miss him and try to be open with him, Gerald doesn’t reciprocate not because he doesn’t love her but because he’s focused on his trolling.

We can either assume their relationship is always like this outside of season 20, where Sheila is putting in more effort than Gerald, or assume that this is just a special circumstance and Gerald is a bit more attentive outside of this season (which I think the show kinda implies? Idk might just be me lol).

3. So are these two an unhealthy relationship? Mmm depends, in the real world obviously yeah. But in the context of South Park the show, not at all.

Whenever people go “oh minor character’s parents are the healthiest/best parents on the show and have the best relationship” it’s like…well yeah duh, we don’t know anything about them.

As parents of the main characters, they are hands down the most loving. They’re not shown fighting with each other or cheating on each other (the hot tub incident is iffy but I think Gerald is just stupid when it comes to friendships lol). They definitely have their flaws, but never in a way where it feels like Sheila is parenting her husband, she rightfully calls him out.

It might seem like a low bar but again, considering the show, the two of them treat each other kinda ok. Season 20 really soured their relationship for a lot of fans, which is expected, but I think for current fans who’ve gone through the 3 almost divorces of Randy/Sharon, any marriage that doesn’t rely on “god I hate my nagging wife” jokes is a relief.

TLDR: You can like or hate characters for literally any reason, people can depict them any way they want, I just got really annoyed for no reason lol

[frankendykes-monster]

Of course, this is the fundamental issue with Deadpool and Wolverine. It’s not a story, it’s a collection of familiar intellectual property bundled into a two-hour package, and fans would complain if Wolverine either waited to put the costume on or eventually symbolically took it off. So the costume stays on for the movie’s runtime, because that is the priority here. That’s the primary purpose of the movie. Even the most basic storytelling logic is secondary to the desire to pander to empty nostalgia. It’s very interesting what Deadpool and Wolverine can and cannot joke about, what topics are deemed out of bounds for this most irreverent of franchises. There are no references to either T.J. Miller or Jonathan Majors, though that is to be expected. There are no references to Cable, Domino or Julian, despite the fact that they formed the emotional crux of the last film. They’ve seemingly been replaced by Shatterstar, who is alive for some reason. And who Deadpool no longer hates, for some reason. Under the Disney brand, Deadpool and Wolverine is thoroughly domesticated. Any implication that the making of this movie was troubled is sorely out of bounds. There is another small but appreciable shift between Deadpool and Wolverine and the previous two movies in the franchise. The opening credits in Deadpool and Deadpool 2 were irreverent and passive aggressive. Deadpool was directed by “an overpaid tool”, Deadpool 2 was directed by “one of the guys who killed the dog in John Wick.” In contrast, Deadpool and Wolverine is “a Kevin Feige production” and “a Shawn Levy film.” Apparently there are some things that you don’t joke about. That’s Deadpool and Wolverine in a nutshell. Or a fan-service-y yellow costume.

Still, there is something interesting here. Last year’s summer blockbusters were largely about how man had killed god, whether literally or metaphorically. The High Evolutionary stepped into the role of creator in Guardians of the Galaxy, Vol. 3. The entire journey of The Creator was to turn off the life support keeping “the Creator” alive. Barbie was about the exile from the Garden. Fast X found Dante (yes) trying to blow up the Vatican because he died and discovered there was no afterlife. Oppenheimer finds mankind taking atomic power into their own hands, “a terrible reckoning of divine power.” Loki imagines what it means to kill He Who Remains. As such, it’s interesting that this year’s blockbusters seek to fill that existential void with something: intellectual property. It’s no surprise so many of this year’s blockbusters are about intellectual property surviving the literal or metaphorical death of the author. Deadpool and Wolverine survive the merger and acquisition of Fox. Harold contemplates his creator’s mortality in Harold and the Purple Crayon. IF was about the idea that nobody outgrows their childhood imaginary friend. Argylle is the story of an author who discovers that she is ultimately a character in her own narrative. In these stories, fiction survives the loss of its creator. Intellectual property endures. Indeed, intellectual property moves to fill the gap. So many modern films are “spreadsheet movies”, films about watching companies celebrate how much stuff they own. Space Jam, The Flash, Deadpool and Wolverine. There is no story, no theme, no purpose, no character. There is only intellectual property, imagery and iconography to be memed and reproduced and reimagined and reworked, until any residual meaning is completely erased. But intellectual property doesn’t just survive. It redeems. It will save you. It is your messiah. What is Madame Web but A Very Spider-Man Nativity, the story of the birth of one Peter Benjamin Parker mythologised, with three wise Spider-Women in attendance? The joke in Deadpool and Wolverine is that Deadpool is “Marvel Jesus”, but the film is too smart to play that straight. Instead, it casts Wolverine as the messiah. Wolverine is “the anchor being.” Only through Wolverine’s death and rebirth can the world itself be redeemed, the universe born again, the centre allowed to hold. Hell, he’s even crucified at one point in Deadpool and Wolverine. [...] (It is telling that even the void has no room for anybody but superheroes. Second chances are reserved entirely for pieces of recognisable iconography, not for ordinary people. There is no humanity to be found in Deadpool and Wolverine, the narrative equivalent of watching an executive move items around a spreadsheet for two straight hours.)

[simplysnowbarry]

MARK YOUR CALENDARS ❄️⚡

Big thanks to everyone who voted in our poll recently. We can now announce that Snowbarry Week 2023 - our final full-length Snowbarry Week - will run from Monday December 4th to Sunday December 10th this year!

We’ve chosen the prompts from those submitted to us so as to speed the process along and give everyone plenty of time to create. And we’ve also got extras for artists, as well as a few song prompts.

prompts:

day 1, Mon Dec 4th - First + Last Time

day 2, Tues Dec 5th - Innovation

day 3, Weds Dec 6th - Reconnecting

day 4, Thurs Dec 7th - FREE DAY + any past prompts

day 5, Fri Dec 8th - Fantasy / Fairytale

day 6, Sat Dec 9th - "Just a normal day"

day 7, Sun Dec 10th - Post-canon / Future AUs

extras for artists:

silver and gold

hues of red and/or blue

song prompts:

The Script - No Good In Goodbye

Picture This - Take My Hand

The Heydaze - New Religion

Posting guidelines will be posted closer to the date. We hope to see you all in December, and in the mean time, HAPPY CREATING!

(!) F.A.Q

Who can participate in Snowbarry Week?

ANYONE! Writers, giffers, manip-ers (?), fan artists smol and toll. We welcome fan fiction, gifsets, manips, fanart, fanmixes, …

Can days be combined?

YES! Reconnecting with future AU? Or innovation and fairytale? All joking aside, you can combine whichever prompts you’d like.

Can I create work for both the artists prompts and the writer prompts?

ABSOLUTELY YES!

Can I use the artists prompts for a fic, or the writer prompts for art work?

GO CRAZY!

If I want to contribute something do I have to do something for every day?

Not at all. You’re free to commit to a single day, and we will be so flipping excited to see it. The point is just to have fun with the prompts, even if it’s just the one.

Can I post a WIP that I started working on before that fits a Snowbarry Week theme?

Yes, of course! We’re not a Big Bang, or even a Mini Bang, we don’t require art or fic to have been created from scratch for exactly this week.

I’m going to be busy/out of town during Snowbarry Week. Can I post early/late?

We’d really like to avoid early posting. If you’re out of town or too busy the week itself you can always schedule posts for the correct dates.

Posting late shouldn’t be a problem. Posting Day 1 on Day 3 is also perfectly fine, just make sure we can tell which day you’re posting for, so our heads don’t start spinning.

What does free day mean?

Basically, free day is where you decide what prompt you want to do something with. As long as it’s Snowbarry (or one of its variations like Savifrost, Flashfrost, etc), you’re okay to do whatever you want. A free day in the middle of the week might also provide some much needed breathing space for all the contributors.

Also, the same as last year, our free day now doubles as an opportunity to create for any of our past prompts! If there was a prompt you didn’t manage to finish something for, or just always liked the sound of doing but missed the opportunity, we’d love to see that for this day to have a fun revival of some of the great prompts from past events.

What does [insert theme] mean?

Oh man, this is a hard one to answer. Reconnecting could be about Barry and Caitlin getting to know each other after falling out, or after drifting apart, but it could also be about reconnecting with other things in their life or even as literal as reconnecting cables on some tech as part of an action plot! We can’t tell you which roles to cast your characters in, because everyone has different interpretations. If you can justify the connection, we’re pretty sure you’re good.

Does my idea fit the theme?

Like we said above, if you can justify it, we’re pretty sure you’re good. If you’re really not sure, hit us up!

If there are more questions, please don’t hesitate to drop us an ask. Any questions you don’t want published, feel free to come off anon and ask us as well - we promise we won’t publish what you’re not comfortable with, just let us know if you want it answered privately.

[illustrationist-of-the-stars]

Hi! I don't know if you'll be interested, but I just published my own Twisted Wonderland fan fiction story. I would like to hear what you think of it (if you decide read it) https://www.tumblr.com/trixie-in-wonderland/755146130249170944/miracle-maker-in-twisted-wonderland?source=share

Wow, that sounds super awsome! And by the looks of the fic itself, it seems really well thought out and the interconnecting world building between two other fandoms/forms of media into one entirely new alternate universe is lowkey so cool to see!

Admittedly, I have no clue on what Kaitou Joker is even about besides hearing it in passing when I was a kid that was still fixated on cable TV (and when Disney channel was still on said TV rip 😔) back then so I was sort of lost while reading the fic myself but still impressed with the amount of dedication and work you've put into it to make it seem as coesive as possible so you should be proud of that, friend! ^_^

Keep it up but don't forget to take breaks once and awhile! And hopefully the AO3 curse won't catch up to ya soon-

And I say to anyone that's interested in this type of crossover, you should absolutely try and read it for yourselves, you won't regret it- promise! :D

[biblioflyer]

Finding hope in an Age of Apocalypse: maybe Xavier’s dream isn’t dead, just wounded.

X-Men ‘97 ends on a series of cliffhangers: the team split between eras, likely having to choose between helping a mortal enemy or altering history in unpredictable ways but probably for the worse, and with the present day team facing a new wave of anti-mutant sentiment and the potential for President Creed. Yet contained within this ending are seeds of hope.

This is part 5 in a series of discussions about the pessimism of the X-Men setting, its origins, its consequences, and whether that’s even a fair assessment.

Part 1 laid out some of the core conceits of the setting.

Part 2 discusses theories of historical change.

Part 3 is about the messiness of allegories.

Part 4 compares X-Men to other popular settings and their status quo or evolution.

I hold out hope the next season of ‘97 might complicate the status quo a bit. Maybe build upon Steve Rogers looking very unhappy when the Magneto protocol was authorized to show us humans and superhumans who are more willing to buck the system. President Kelly is likely to be seen as a big disappointment by idealists who want to work within the system, such as Steve. 

If ‘97 does go forward with a transition from having a President who is sympathetic to Mutants but whose ultimate priority is order to a President who is a fire breathing anti-mutant extremist, that would be a fruitful way to bring in dissenting humans and superhumans. It would be interesting to see the status quo, from the perspective of supportive non-Mutants, move from unjust but seeming to have room for reform to one that is intolerable.

It’s very much not Captain America’s show and there is no obligation to depict him in a sympathetic way in the X-Men’s corner of the setting, but adding extra dimensions to the conflict by having a broader ideological mix of Humans would offset the fatalism of the first season and the potential extra gloom of a President Creed arc by bringing a smidge of optimism that Sapiens vs Mutatis does not have to be a zero sum conflict.

I’m just personally not a fan of settings without hope. It’s what frustrated me about the way the Star Wars Sequels wiped away the achievements of the legacy characters as if they had been built on sand and without even really giving us any appreciation for what, if anything, they did achieve. It’s what made the first couple seasons of Star Trek Discovery kind of a chore, not that there wasn’t hope, but you really had to dig deep to find anything approximating the idealism of TNG. 

I know things are hard, I know the world is a mess, and I’m fine with fictional worlds being hyperbolically messy but give me hope dammit! I don’t want to come away from an epic journey feeling fatalistic about reality by finding no hope in fiction.

Which is incidentally why I want to thank the writers of ‘97 for capping off the season by having the touching moment with Scott and Cable and for Xavier being willing to die trying to break through to Magneto, even after everything Magneto had done.

Grim is okay if it's complemented by heroes being that much more heroic for contrast.

If I wanted bad people doing bad things, having bad things happen to them, and becoming worse people for it I’d reread Game of Thrones.

If I wanted all of that with superpowers, I’d pick up the original The Boys comics.

[chernobog13]

Ron Ely as Tarzan, and his chimp co-star Cheeta. Though they look like best friends, Ely suffered several bites from the little guy during the course of their two years working together.

For kids in the mid-to-late 1960s, Ron Ely WAS Tarzan.

Ely was the star of the 57-episode Tarzan TV series that ran two seasons, from 1966 to 1968, and then in near continual syndication for several years afterward.

The television series was executive produced by Sy Weintraub, who had been producing the Tarzan films since 1958. Weintraub was responsible for replacing the monosyllabic persona of Tarzan, made popular by the Johnny Weissmuller films of the 1930s and40s, with the educated, well-spoken character from Edgar Rice Burroughs' novels. True Trazan fans were delighted with this move, and I'm sure Burroughs himself would have been as well had he lived to see it (he died in 1950).

Tarzan about to demonstrate his vine swinging skills.

Weintraub also filmed his Tarzan movies on location, as opposed to in a studio with stock jungle footage. This made for some spectacular scenes, but it was rough on both the crew and his Tarzan actors: Gordon Scott, Jock Mahoney, and Mike Henry.

When he decided to make the Tarzan television series, Weintraub wanted Henry to continue in the role. However, Henry had made 3 Tarzan films back-to-back in 1965 and was physically exhausted. Thus the TV role eventually was awarded to Ely.

Like the Mike Henry films, the TV series was filmed in Brazil (first four episodes) and Mexico (the remainder of the series). This explains why the scenery, while lush and exotic, sometimes doesn't quite gel with images we'd seen of the African wilderness. It also explains why many of the extras appeared Latin as opposed to African.

Ely insisted on doing his own stunts for the series, a decision later on he would come to regret. He suffered more than two dozen serious injuries, which included two broken shoulders, lion bites, and several bites from his co-star, Cheeta the chimp. Allan Sherman, in an issue of the Tarzan comic book when it was published by DC, wrote an article and chart detailing all the injuries Ely incurred in the two years of production. Unfortunately, I have not been able to find the article to include here.

The one thing Ely could not do: the famous Tarzan yell. The production ended up using a recording of Johnny Weissmuller's version of the yell.

Ely's other co-star in the series was Jai, an orphaned boy (played by Manuel Padilla, Jr). Jai took the place of Boy, Tarzan's son from the Weissmuller films, and gave the ape man someone to protect and/or rescue every episode.

Manuel Padilla, Jr. as Jai, Tarzan's companion throughout the TV series, with Ron Ely as Tarzan.

As in Weintraub's films, the character of Jane was not present. Weintraub preferred a Tarzan who was a lone adventurer. The TV Tarzan was not a globetrotter like his film counterpart; his adventures were limited to a fictional African country.

The Tarzan series had several high profile guest stars including, believe it or not, Diana Ross and The Supremes: Cindy Birdsong, Mary Wilson, and Diana Ross as a trio of nuns.

The series got off to an uneven start, as the location shooting took longer than anticipated. Early episodes show signs of hasty, almost haphazard editing as they were assembled at a breakneck speed to meet NBC network's broadcasting schedule. Luckily, the production eventually found its footing, and things smoothed out quickly.

For a brief time Tarzan's TV adventures took over the cover spot on the Tarzan of the Apes comic book.

Warners Brothers has released the series on DVD back in 2012 and 2013. To my knowledge (which, admittedly, is faulty) it is not currently streaming or available on any cable channels.

[togetherasone]

IMPERAPARTY . TERZO OR COPIA

Pairing: Terzo x Fem!Reader or Copia x Fem!Reader, you choose *wink wink*

Summary: The Ministry bustles with activity. The Impera Release Ritual has just finished and such a special occasion deserves a celebration. And, well... You aren't denying yourself a glass of wine. Nor the approach of someone. Or the one where you have fun with one of our beloved Papas!

Word count: 980

Notes: Oh, hello! This is a repost since I moved from an old to a new blog! Also, this is a "choose your adventure" fan fiction, so choose which Papa (or both, no one is stopping you!) you want to have fun with! I hope you enjoy! Keep in mind that English isn't my first language. Sorry in advance for any mistakes.

Warnings: There will be smut in any of the paths you choose, so, minors, don't overstep any boundaries. I can't stop you from reading this introduction since it doesn't have any mature content, but DON'T proceed any further. Please, this is for your own safety.

If you want to take a look at my other writings, here they are!

“Cut!” Sister Imperator shouted to the camera operators amongst the noise reverberating off the marble walls and echoing around the vast corridor of the Ministry. You stood almost beside her, two Sisters of Sin separated you from her, and you flinched slightly at the shout.

The IMPERA Release Ritual had just finished.

People clapped enthusiastically as soon as Papa Emeritus IV sang the last verse of "Spillways", one of the new songs that had grown on you lately, and the YouTube transmission was interrupted.

Copia maneuvered around the microphone stand and looked from side to side as he waited for the Ghouls to join him. They held their hands and bowed altogether. The dying round of applause sprang to life again. The noise, a mix between the round of applause and the hubbub, was almost unrearable, but you smiled at the band and continued to clap until they had dispersed.

Sound technicians unplugged instruments, and camera operators pulled cables as people slowly walked and chirpily talked. Men in fancy suits made a beeline for the improvised stage, moving in the opposite direction to the mass of people. You had never seen them around. Your eyes curiously followed them as you patiently waited on the spot you had occupied during the last hour for the Sisters of Sin around you to join the mass of people, which moved to the Great Hall, where the after party would be held.

Sister Imperator, as the men in fancy suits, made a beeline for the improvised stage. Because of her priviledged spot close to it, she needn't struggle with the mass of people. She ran towards Copia and swiftly grabbed his head between her hands, squishing his ears and kissing both of his cheeks. Her voice reached your ears, and she congratulated her "golden boy, C., I'm proud of you!".

When Copia saw the men in fancy suits approaching, he quickly disentagled himself from Sister Imperator. It was impossible to listen to their conversation. It must have lasted a minute. They shook hands with Copia and the Ghouls who caught the conversation in the middle, and that was that.

The Sisters of Sin around you started to move, and you followed them. The mass of people swarmed the Great Hall. Most of its furniture – lounge chairs, armchairs, sofas – had been reorganized around coffee tables by the walls, which were covered by dark wooden panels, except for the wall above the fireplace, which was covered by a mirror. Red candles burnt steadily on the mantelpiece of the fireplace. The intricate details carved on the golden frame of the mirror danced under their flickering light, which added a mysterious glow to its surroudings. A thurible had been placed between the candles and its smoke lazily floated in the air in round puffs.

The long wooden table around which the Sisters of Sin gathered for meals had been replaced by a round wooden table. It had been positioned exactly underneath the chandelier, and a tall crystal vase of roses had been positioned exactly in its middle. It was surrounded by golden trays of varied dishes, at which you salivated.

Standing wooden tables had been scattered across the room. People had already occupied most of them when you entered it. The air was thick. The smell of roses mixed with the steam rising from the dishes and the smoke rising from the thurible. The firewood burning in the fireplace maintained the room cozily warm.

You quietly observed the people. Your sisters, scattered around the room, talked, laughed, drank and ate. The ghost of Papa Emeritus Nihil, sat on an armchair by the fireplace and talked to Mr. Saltarian and other men, certainly Mr. Saltarian's guests. Primo and Secondo, gathered around a coffee table at the farthest corner of the room, played cards. They had managed to attract a small crowd.

"C'mon," one your sisters wrapped her fingers around your wrist and pulled you towards one of the console tables bearing golden trays of varied drinks. Crystals glasses had been filled to the brim with wine, champagne, and water. She grasped two glasses of wine and handed one to you. "Let's get the party started."

And it did. Three glasses of wine and one glass of champagne followed the first. Your stomach happily digested the food you had snatched from the golden trays on the round wooden table in the center of the room. The atmosphere had shifted as soon as alcohol invaded bloodstreams. The air was still thick. But, now, the smell of roses mixed with the sweat emanating from the drunk bodies and the scent of alcohol. But, now, the firewood burning in the fireplace maintained the room lustifully warm.

From an armchair beside Secondo, you hazily observed the people playing cards. The players alternated at each round and it had gotten interesting since a "new" rule – ahem, a rule that attended every party at The Ministry whenever people started to get drunk –, one which obligated the losers of the round to undress, one piece of clothing at a time. Two of your sisters had already lost their veil, their coif, their scapular, and their belt. Their tunic was the only piece of clothing hiding their sins.

A bunch of grapes rested on your left hand and you lazily ate it. The dizziness caused by the alcohol had started to wear off. Although a fourth glass of wine rested in front of you on the edge of the coffee table, it had been there for more than an hour. You pulled it to your lips and savoured another sip of wine along with some grapes.

"Oh, no!" one of your sisters mirthuflly exclaimed at one of the guests as he abandoned the cards in his hand on the coffee table.

Another round had ended. The crowd mercilessly teased him, for he would have to take his button-up shirt off, which would leave him shirtless.

Terzo pulled a couple of grapes from the bunch that rested on your hand.

Out the corner of your eyes, you observed Copia.

PLEASE, CONSIDER REBLOGGING THIS AND/OR GIVING ME FEEDBACK, I WOULD APPRECIATE IT A LOT!