#marvel entertains me even if it fucking sucks so its all good

[rainbowbeanstyles]

THIS EPISODE WAS ALL OVER THE PLACE BUT ALL I KNOW IS i love sonya best character mwah. my man rhodey is back fuck yeah. i also love varra and romantic fury scares me!

[nightcoremoon]

people who legitimately think that marvel movies are the bottom of the cultural barrel have zero media literacy or knowledge and I can’t take anything that they say seriously

I’m not gonna sit here and pretend that they’re the greatest movies ever made of all time but I will say they’re mostly fun so I don’t give a shit if scorsese nolan hitchcock kubrick etc are “better”. like nickelback. they’re not nearly the levels of talent and composition as dream theater, rush, king crimson, opeth, polyphia, deftones, loathe, sleep token, lady gaga, etc but they’re perfectly competent and listenable. you cannot sit there and tell me that the shitty myspacecore groups like brokencyde, blood on the dance floor, the medic droid, shitty drunk mom bands like hinder, saving abel, and buckcherry, shitty white girl pop like taylor swift, meg trainer, and katy perry, and shitty frat boy rap rock groups like crazy town, saliva, and kid rock, are in any way better than nickelback. you cannot tell me that you would rather listen to analcunt than nickelback even if you love analcunt because people who like grindcore know that it sounds like shit and that’s why they like it. and I’m gonna make a statement that’s so controversial in that the mcu movies are some of the best movies on the market these days because of one teeny tiny little detail.

every single american horror movie made in the last 20 years is so much worse than the most unpleasant and boring mcu film.

*except for jordan peele, who is the exception, not the rule.

paul ws anderson has not made a good movie since mortal kombat and the first resident evil AND EVEN THEN those are really cheesy, poorly edited, weirdly paced, and heavily flawed. michael bay’s writing sucks and relies solely on the spectacle of explosions. uwe boll. tommy fucking wiseau. every single shyamalan movie since unbreakable has been absolutely atrocious (aside from joaquin phoenix being the only one saving signs and the village from being NEARLY as fucking terrible as lady in the water, the happening, the last airbender, and so on, but they’re still stilted and awkward). nic cage is in a billion movies these days but we’re all just gonna forget about the late 90s and 2000s where he was in just as many movies and all of them are really really stupid? how about every superhero movie made prior to the mcu. did we forget that xmen 3 was so bad they literally fucking sent wolverine back in time to make it so that it never even happened? AND THEN HAD SANSA STARK MAKE A SILLY LITTLE JOKE ABOUT IT IN THE REBOOT TRILOGY??? but weirdly enough xmen 3 is still better then origins wolverine. oh and also green lantern, daredevil, catwoman, punisher warzone, all the batman movies where the suit has nipples, like you can’t tell me that the only good superhero movies are the worst ones because I HAVE SEEN WORSE BEFORE, sorry you were born after 2005 and you never bothered to engage media that wasn’t spoonfed to you by the algorithm.

but you know what I’d still rather watch The Room because sometimes things are bad in a way that’s still entertaining to see its incompetence, rather than Hulk. which is. fine I guess but I have no strong desire to ever watch that one again. but I still enjoyed watching it when I did. like yeah it’s not the best but it sure as fuck isn’t the worst and I’ll tell you why.

because the actual worst movies ever made of all time? dude. blumhouse’s cesspool. the conjuring is shit. annabelle is shit. sinister is shit. insidious is shit. paranormal activity is shit. the purge is shit. truth or dare is shit. unfriended is shit. oculus is shit. and night swim, that’s gonna be SOOO cringe. you’re fucking delusional at best, fucking ignorant at worst, if you think that this deluge of propaganda is better. you say that the story beats in every marvel movie are exactly the same even though they’re the same story beats that every single movie and novel has had for the past 150 years (well more like 1500 years), where you have the prologue and the inciting incident then act 2 then the midpoint then there’s a despair event horizon then a climax and a denounement at the end capping it off like a cherry on top of the sundae on an assembly line. they all copy the hero’s journey from greek storytelling. they’re all in the same boat so that’s literally the dumbest criticism you can make. you’re sitting there eating instant ramen while talking smack about hot pockets for not being made of healthy ingredients.

it’s hypocritical, and it’s telling that 90% of the people who do nothing but make a hundred posts every day about how bad marvel movies are, don’t actually do anything besides watch marvel movies just to find things to complain about. like, all you’re doing is the exact same thing that marvel fans do but you’re cultivating your own misery whereas the fans enjoy it and milk it for serotonin. it’s like when self identified anti-sjws didn’t realize that they were also SJWs, they were just on the other side of the battle lines. luckily they’re all so braindead and prone to follower mentality that they just say the word woke is bad because everyone else says that word is bad even though they have no solid definition for what the fuck woke even means anymore besides being a buzzword to help us intelligent people distinguish a bigoted asshole. point is you don’t know how to create your own opinions so you just copy whoever is spreading the most vitriol and hate.

it’s just honestly so sad to see but at the same time I envy the illusion. if I lived in a world where I thought that fried chicken was the worst food ever made expressly because everything else available to me was so much more yummy than fried chicken. imagine the privilege. imagine having champagne and caviar for breakfast, foie gras for lunch, and sushi for dinner with tiramisu for dessert, living in paradise because the worst thing in your life is fried chicken. you’ve never had to eat hot dogs. you’ve never had kale crammed down your throat. your mac and cheese doesn’t come in a box. you’re so goddamn lucky that the worst movies you’ve ever seen are still better than most movies period I’ve seen.

so I hope that when you inevitably are approached with the reality of video brinquiedo you aren’t fucking traumatized. because you’re basically the marie antoinette of cinema.

[kideternity]

ask meme 1 9 18 19 22!

1. the character everyone gets wrong

Like five billion different characters but the character that first came to mind was ERIC ANT MAN !!!!!! Literally the bullshit I’ve seen claimed about Eric makes me soooo mad. AND LIKE THERE IS REAL STUFF TO CRITICISE THE CHARACTER FOR TOO OR LIKE ABOUT HIS SOLO but omg it’s NEVER the actual problems but instead shit people literally made up or like if they thought 2 seconds deeper about it they'd realise they sound stupid and hypocritical. Sniff sniff banning all of you from talking about my friend Eric O’Grady

9. worst part of canon

HMmmmmmmMmMm…….. more meta textual but the like. Pitfalls of the collaborative nature of comics / the issues in the way characters usually are passed from one writer to another. This could be really cool and awesome, to see different artistic interpretations of a character or story, and Sometimes It Is Awesome! But a lot of the times you just end up with beloved characters getting character assassinated to the high heavens and then unceremoniously killed off for shock value.

18. it's absolutely criminal that the fandom has been sleeping on...

FUTURE QUEST !!!!!! GO READ FUTURE QUEST NOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW EVERYONE SHOULD READ FUTURE QUEST. ITS SO GOOD. If you want an entertaining well written story filled with endearing characters? FUTURE QUEST. if you want a universe that has a ton of super interesting lore implications and which can be expanded on / is rife for headcanon material? FUTURE QUEST. Do you want to see old cartoons you might remember from your childhood actually treated with love? FUTURE QUEST!!!!

19. you're mad/ashamed/horrified you actually kind of like...

Suicide Squad (1987) : ( I will forever maintain my belief that absolutely no one should read this comic btw. Like it is a comic I do embarrassingly hold a lot of attachment for / has characters I adore to the fullest (Waller, Count Vertigo, Vixen, Bronze Tiger, Nightshade…) but the bad of it all FAR outweighs the good and its why tbh I don’t even like recommending it to people. World peace will be achieved btw if we stopped making suicide squad media/comics

22. your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores

Again a little bit more meta textual but COMPOSITIONS AND LAYOUTS IN COMICS!! I fucking love panelling dude a GOOD panel layout will fucking stay with you. They’re SO so so important to the actual meat of the content and there are so many times a comic will completely flop for me because like, say, the artist has a “pretty” art style yes but the way they do panel layouts, or the actual action and motion in comics SUCKS ASS!!! I read ‘Marvel Knights: Spider-man (2013)’ recently btw and the compositions of it were just CHEFS kiss the wackier and more experimental compositions are the better usually imo

[itscomplicatedx]

The Dumbass most common reactions to Hash Bingo

(which I am too lazy to put in an actual Bingo Meme)

-If you claim to be a Tom fan and you’re saying any of this stuff, you especially should be ashamed of yourself.

Update: Now with a board by @in-defense-of-loki !

1). “She’s showing off her pregnancy!”

Yeah, they get kind of hard to hide when you’re a few months in. Of course she was going address it in the interview- she showed up with a baby bump. What was she supposed to say when they asked- “No, please ignore the fact that I’m so obviously pregnant?”

2). “She got pregnant to trap Tom!”

They got engaged in September. And yes, men who feel trapped constantly light up with goofy smiles when their fiancé is around, and go around talking about how “very happy” they are when congratulated/s. 🙄

3). “It’s a publicity stunt, just like Benedict and Sophie!”

Oh goody, the insane tinfoil Cumber bitches who are obsessed with Benedict and Sophie conspiracy theories are now going to move on to Tom and Zawe. 🤦🏻‍♀️

4). “She’s punching up/is a social-climber” (some sick fuck actually tried to put this on her Wikipedia page! 😡)

He’s not going to date you sweetheart. He doesn’t even know you exist. Get over it.

“Social Climber?” What century are you living in??

5). Unhinged “heartbroken” rant about how he’s no longer single.

See # 4. And please get therapy.

6). “Zawe looks like an ape, man, etc.”

Ah yes, racist dog whistles. You’re racist scum. That’s pretty much all that needs to be said about this one.

7.) “She’s just using him to further her career and get into Marvel.”

Update: Zawe talks about how she got the role here

My original answer: Because her career totally wasn’t rising on its own before they got together/s-she got picked to star in Broadway after all. She got the Marvel role before they went public. It’s possible Tom put in a good word for her-that’s how the industry often works. In case you forgot, when Tom was being considered for the Loki role Kenneth Branagh put in a good word for him. He probably would’ve done that even if they were just friends. But if either Tom or Zawe had truly sucked, no good word would’ve gotten them the roles.

8). “I miss him with Taylor!” ::proceeds to spam Zawe tags with Hiddleswift::

It was for 3 months-6 years ago. They both moved on-you need to as well. And don’t spam tags!

9). “Taylor ruined him for decent women and he’s scraping the bottom of the barrel.”

This one seems like a combination of 4, 6, & 8. As well as how ridiculous it is that you somehow think that every woman should be measured by your particular idol, who is not the model of perfection you seem to think she is.

10). “They’re both gay and using each other as a beard.”

While I’m all for more out Queer people in the industry, there are actual straight people there. Everyone is not gay and hiding it. How about concentrating on supporting Queer rights within the Entertainment industry, instead of wasting your time publicly speculating about stuff like this?

11). This one has been aimed at me personally-“You only like Zawe because she’s with Tom!”

No, actually I took an interest in her since I first saw her in Betrayal. This furthered when I had a pleasant personal interaction with her-when I was at stage door I was coughing and sneezing a lot, and she got me some tissues and asked me if I was okay. I then started researching other stuff she’s been in. I know for a fact I’m not the only one. Them getting together was icing on the cake.

Besides, if she came to peoples’ attention because they saw her with Tom and started to like her, what’s wrong with that? I, along with many others, first found out about Tom when we went to see the first Thor movie; and I was originally there to see Chris Hemsworth.

12). “Her grandfather/family was bad, blah blah.”

I tend to take these things with a grain of salt, but let’s say for the sake of argument that it’s true. So what? Are we holding people responsible for what their ancestors did now? In that case, we’re all in trouble, because I guarantee you every body has got at least one asshole ancestor-probably multiple ones.

That’s all I got for now.



[deniigi]

So, about your academic ocs- i recently had a dream based on blackkatmagic's Its Not The Waking that I was a museum curator in charge of making a gallery for the jedi order under the orders of the second emperor. Upon waking the concept grabbed me by the throat and demanded fanfic while simultaneously producing all these damn oc bc all the mfs need names and personalities and whatever else. Do you have any advice for writing a host of ocs? And also, would you be alright with me referencing some of your academic's names or projects? (The idea of Tonbry Dahleah getting a book deal for the gift shop hit me between the eyes recently)

Hi anon!

You are more than welcome to use the OCs in center stage just as long as you link/credit me ❤

Also, what an intriguing ask!

A host of OCs conjures for me the idea of a bunch of many-eyed angels trying to fit on a cloud.

BUT since I'm not quite sure what parts of writing so many are giving you troubles, I can offer you some general suggestions that might help?

I think my biggest thing for OCs is to remember that most people come to fanfic to play around with the characters that they already know, so when you're thinking about providing a new character, to not alienate your audience or take them out of the space, you might consider giving the OC(s) a specific purpose that serves one of the existing characters' purposes. (With obvious caveats of like, don't be racist here, but think more of like, how is this character enhancing something interesting about this other character/group).

That helps OCs feel less threatening to readers and often makes it easier for folks to accept their POV or their inclusion in a fic.

Of course, if you don't care about that, then don't sweat it, write until your self-indulgence is sated.

But another thing that helps me with writing a cast of OCs is to give them interpersonal relationships with a few other members of the groups. You want both positive and negative relationships and several really strong relationships of both varieties within the larger group.

If X character on one side of the group despises Y character but saves face for the sake of professionalism, they are automatically more interesting than even the most complex, nuanced character design. Sorry, that's just how writing works. People have come to be entertained. Entertain them with writing relationships first. Once they're hooked, you can start handing them the tragic backstory.

When it comes to actually like, writing an OC (god help you for the naming side of things, I also try to google a name before using it and sometimes if a person already exists with that name, I will cheer and go ahead with slightly less anxiety), I'd say to imagine someone who is annoying--I mean that like, on a small and large scale. What about this person makes them annoying--are they so shy or standoffish you can't talk to them? Do they talk faster and faster when they're nervous? Do they dig the hole they've made for themselves even deeper when confronted about it?

Something about them has to be fucking annoying and that actually helps me when it comes to building out a personality for a character that is distinct from other characters. It also helps me pinpoint how another character will react to them (affection, frustration, acceptance).

I also like to pair or trio people in a large group off. Make cliques. Generally speaking once you have more than like 3 or 4 people in a group, they start to naturally break into smaller groups which is really good in terms of containing narratives (Don't write everyone interacting at once. No one wants to read that. This is why Marvel sucks).

Once you have your cast of people (five is a good number imo, but I'm an art person, so I like odd numbers and prime numbers composition wise), you can start creating hive mind mentalities. There is nothing more entertaining than having a group of people be in the know of certain things and confronted with someone who is Not.

I hope this helps!

[the-desolated-quill]

WandaVision: ‘Subverting’ Good Television - Quill’s Scribbles

(Spoilers for the first five episodes)

Hey everyone! Well... it’s been a while, hasn’t it? The last time I wrote a proper review or Scribble, people still thought the COVID crisis would be over within a month. The poor saps. But I thought that as a special way to mark this year’s Valentines Day, we could take a closer look at the Marvel Cinematic Universe’s shittiest power couple in their new Disney+ show WandaVision.

The first of many MCU spin-off shows that nobody asked for, broadcast exclusively on Disney’s totally unnecessary streaming platform, WandaVision is about everybody’s favourite whitewashed Nazi experiment and her red sexbot boyfriend as they try to fit into a suburban sitcom neighbourhood without arousing suspicion.

Yes, you read that correctly. The MCU has a sitcom now. My life is now complete.

Sarcasm aside, I was legitimately curious about WandaVision because of its unusual setting. And considering one of my most common criticisms of the MCU is its total lack of creativity, anything that’s even a little bit subversive is bound to attract my attention. Of course ‘subversive’ doesn’t necessarily mean ‘good.’ I could hand you a canvas smeared with my own shit and call it subversive. That doesn’t necessarily make it good art. And that’s exactly what WandaVision is. A canvas smeared with shit.

So lets split this critical analysis/review/angry bitter rant into two distinct chapters. The first focusing on the plot and setting, and the second focusing on the characters. Okay? Okay.

Chapter 1: Bewitched

Critics seem to be utterly enamoured with the whole sitcom gimmick, and it is a gimmick. As far as I can tell from the episodes I’ve seen, the sitcom setting serves no real purpose whatsoever other than to make the show ‘quirky.’ Which I wouldn’t mind, believe it or not, if the show was actually funny. There’s just one problem. It’s not.

Now in some ways describing why a sitcom doesn’t work is often futile because comedy is largely subjective. What I find funny, you won’t necessarily find funny and vice versa. With WandaVision, however, I won’t have that problem. I can demonstrate to you precisely why WandaVision, objectively, isn’t funny. And it all comes down to one simple thing. The stakes. Or rather the complete and total absence of stakes.

The show makes it very clear from the beginning that none of what we’re seeing is real. The cheesy theme song, the era appropriate special effects (mostly. It’s actually very inconsistent), the joke commercials, and, in the case of the first two episodes, which are in black and white, the appearance of red lights and objects in Scarlet Witch’s general vicinity. (Gee, what a mystery this is).

Basically Wanda has brought Vision back from the dead and created this sitcom world for them to inhabit. I’ll explain the stupidity of this in Chapter 2. The point is none of this is real, and that has a negative effect on the comedy because the very nature of comedy is suffering. Take the plot of the first episode. Wanda and Vision have to prepare a dinner to impress Vision’s boss. If they fail, Vision could lose his job and the couple could be exposed as superheroes. If this were a normal sitcom, it would work. The stakes are clear and it would be satisfying to see the two struggle and overcome the odds. But here, we know it’s not real. If it’s not real, it means there’s no stakes. If there’s no stakes, it means there’s no suffering. If there’s no suffering, there’s no comedy.

It would be one thing if the unfunny sitcom stuff lasted for like the first ten minutes or so before making way for the actual plot, but it doesn’t. Oh no. It doesn’t even last for the first episode. Out of the five episodes I’ve watched, four of them are almost entirely about these unfunny, objectively flawed sitcom homages, each set in a different time period. The fifties, the sixties, and so on. And what’s worse is that nothing that happens in them is plot-relevant. That gets relegated to the last five minutes of an episode. So you’re forced to sit through twenty five minutes of boring slapstick and puns in order to catch even a whiff of actual story. Which begs the question... who is this for exactly? It can’t be entertaining to Marvel fans, who have to slog through all this pointless shit so they can figure out what the fuck is going on. Comedy fans may get a kick out of the sitcom pastiche at first, but after four episodes, surely the joke would wear thin. So why is it in here? Clearly someone in the writer’s room absolutely fell in love with the idea of doing a Marvel sitcom, but nobody put in any time or effort to figure out how it would work in context.

I cannot stress enough how bad the plotting of this series is. As I said, the vast majority of a thirty minute episode is about shitty sitcom plots that aren’t funny and don’t have any impact on the story, only to then tease you with a crumb of actual plot in order to keep you coming back for the next instalment. Admittedly it’s an effective strategy. I was more than ready to quit after Episode 2 until that beekeeper showed up out of the sewer (don’t ask. It’s not important). WandaVision essentially follows the Steven Moffat school of bad writing. String your audience along with the promise that things might get more interesting later on and that all the bullshit that came before will retroactively make sense by the end. Except, as demonstrated with BBC’s Sherlock, that doesn’t work. And even if it did, it wouldn’t justify wasting the audience’s fucking time. And that’s what the majority of WandaVision is. A waste of time.

The only episode that doesn’t follow the sitcom format is the fourth episode. Instead it basically exists to explain all the shit that happened before. The shit that the audience, frankly, are smart enough to figure out for themselves. Wanda created the sitcom world as a way of coping with the loss of Vision, blah, blah, blah. Yeah, we got it. Thanks. It doesn’t advance the plot or anything. It’s just a massive info-dump. But by far the lowest point was when Darcy (by far the most annoying character in the first Thor film and is just as obnoxious here) was sat in front of the TV, watching the sitcom and asking the same questions we were. Not even attempting to look for answers. Just reiterating what the audience is thinking. Like this is an episode of fucking Gogglebox.

In the end it becomes apparent why the series is structured the way that it is. It’s to hoodwink people into subscribing to Disney’s stupid streaming service. If you think about it, there was no reason for WandaVision to be a TV series other than to lure gullible fans in with a piece-meal story buried in a mountain of crap. This isn’t a TV show. It’s what is cynically known in the world of big business executives as ‘content.’ They’re not interested in entertaining the audience. Instead they crave ‘engagement’, which isn’t the same thing. Watching WandaVision is like staring into the void, waiting for something to happen, while Disney charge you for the privilege.

Chapter 2: I Love Lucy

So the plot sucks balls. What about the characters? Surely if Wanda and Vision are likeable at least, it’ll give us something to cling onto.

Well as I was watching the first episode, it suddenly hit me that I couldn’t remember anything that happened to them in previous films. I knew Vision died, but other than that, I couldn’t tell you significant plot details or their personalities or anything. Not a great start.

See, up until now, Vision and Scarlet Witch have been little more than background characters. So already there’s an uphill struggle to get us invested in their relationship, especially considering we haven’t actually seen that relationship develop. In Avengers: Age Of Ultron, Scarlet Witch is killing people because she’s pissed off about Tony Stark killing people (you work that one out) until all of a sudden she stops and joins the good guys because the script said so. Vision meanwhile is introduced as a convenient deus ex machina to beat Ultron and gets no real personality other than he’s a robot. Captain America: Civil War comes the closest to giving Wanda a story and personality of her own as it’s her actions that cause the Sokovia Accords to come into effect, but she never gets any real growth or payoff as the film is heavily focused on Cap and Iron Man’s penis measuring contest. And as for Vision, all he does in the film is accidentally cripple War Machine. No real character or arc there as such. And then we have Avengers: Infinity War, where Wanda and Vision are now sporadically in love and on the run until that pesky Josh Brolin, looking like a CGI cross between Joss Whedon and a grumpy grape, comes along and rips out Vision’s Infinity Stone to power up his golden glove of doom, and the film treats this like a tragic moment, except... it isn’t. Because we haven’t really had the time to properly get to know these characters and see their romance blossom. So instead it just comes off as hollow and forced.

WandaVision has the exact same problem. Apparently Wanda was so distraught about Vision’s death that she broke into a SWORD base, stole his corpse, brought it back from the dead... somehow, and then enslaved an entire town of people to create an idyllic lifestyle for her and her hubby while broadcasting it as a sitcom to the outside world... for some reason. Putting aside the dubious morality of it all, it’s impossible to really sympathise with Wanda or her supposed grief because we’ve barely spent any time with her. Had the Marvel movies taken the time to properly explore the characters and show us their relationship grow and develop, this might have had more emotional resonance. But no, it just happens. In one film they barely speak to each other and in the next they’re a couple. No effort to explore how they feel about each other or any of the problems that may arise trying to date a robot. It just happens and we’re just supposed to care. Well I’m sorry, but I don’t care. You’re going to have to try a little bit harder than that I’m afraid. What’s worse is that, thanks to the whole fake sitcom thing, it’s impossible to really become invested in Wanda and her plight because the show has to constantly keep us at arms length at all times in order to keep up the pretence that this bullshit is somehow mysterious.

Looking through the WandaVision tag, it amuses me how many people say that she’s acting out of character. And yeah, her actions are a bit of a head scratcher. Why would an Eastern European’s ideal life be an American sitcom? Why a sitcom? Why kidnap an entire town? Why keep changing the decade? None of it makes sense, but you’re wrong for thinking that Wanda is behaving out of character for the simple reason that Wanda has never actually had a character. In fact, ironically, Wanda mind controlling an entire town and forcing them to do her bidding is probably the one consistent thing about her as she did this in Age Of Ultron. In interviews, Elizabeth Olsen and Paul Bettany described how they used actors like Elizabeth Montgomery and Dick Van Dyke as influences, which is really funny because they’re straight up admitting they don’t have characters and even now they’re still not playing the characters, instead emulating the work of far better actors.

As I was watching the show, it became abundantly clear that not only do Marvel not have the faintest idea what they wanted to do with these characters, but they also straight up don’t give a shit about these characters. Wanda in particular has had a rough time under the tyrannical regime of the House of Mouse. First they cast Elizabeth Olsen, a white woman, to play a Romani character, then systematically erasing her Jewish roots, even going so far as to put a cross in her bedroom in Civil War, and now the character is being butchered even more by forcing her into an American sitcom housewife role that she apparently willingly chose for herself, which is laughable. I mean say what you like about Magneto in the X-Men films, at least they actually depicted his Jewish culture. At least they recognised his Jewish background was important (though not important enough to cast a Jewish actor apparently). Wanda’s steady cultural erasure over the years is incredibly insidious and judging by Olsen’s comments in interviews, where she called Wanda’s comic book outfit a quote ‘gypsy thing’ unquote, it seems nobody has an ounce of fucking respect for the character or the culture she’s supposed to be representing. (and to all those kissing her arse saying it was a slip of the tongue, she has been repeatedly called out for using the slur in the past, so at this point I’d describe her behaviour as wilful ignorance)

If you want further proof of how much Marvel doesn’t seem to care about Wanda, look no further than her brother Pietro, aka Quicksilver. At the end of Episode 5, Wanda brings Pietro back from the dead, except it’s not Pietro. It’s Peter Maximoff, the Quicksilver from the X-Men films played by Peter Evans, who coincidentally is not Jewish or Romani either. So Quicksilver has the dubious honour of not only being whitewashed three times, but also twice within the same franchise. But should we really be surprised at this point? It’s Marvel after all. The same company that whitewashed the Ancient One in Doctor Yellowface and claimed it wasn’t racist because Tilda Swinton is ‘Celtic’. But now I’m going off topic. My point is that this isn’t a simple case of recasting an actor like Mark Ruffalo replacing Edward Norton as the Hulk. WandaVision actually acknowledges the recast in-universe, which makes no sense. Why would Wanda bring back her brother, only to make him look like a different person? We the audience may be familiar with this version of Quicksilver, but she isn’t. That would be like me bringing my Grandad back to life and making him look like Ian McKellen. He’d be perfectly charming, I’m sure, but he wouldn’t be my Grandad. 

If Marvel really cared about the characters or narrative consistency, they would have brought Aaron Taylor Johnson back. Instead, now they have absorbed 20th Century Fox into the hellish Disney abyss, they use X-Men’s Quicksilver as a means to keep viewers from switching off and so that people will write stupid articles and think pieces about whether the rest of the X-Men will show up in the MCU. It’s like dangling your keys in front of a toddler’s face to distract them from the rotting corpse of a raccoon lying face down in the corner of the room.

And it’s here where I decided to stop watching the show because fuck Disney.

Epilogue: One Foot In The Grave

You know, I am sick and tired of the so called ‘professional’ critics bending over backwards to praise these god awful films and shows when it’s so clear to anyone with a functioning brain cell how bad they truly are. WandaVision is without a doubt one of the most cynically produced and poorly structured TV shows I’ve ever seen. Its riffs on classic sitcoms are pointless and self-indulgent, the writing is terrible, the characters are unlikable and unsympathetic, and it’s entirely emblematic of what the entire MCU has become of late. And it’s only going to get worse as Disney drowns us with more ‘content’ to keep the plebs ‘engaged’. In short; pathetic.

[fanficmemes]

Hi CB! Sorry for the last minute submission, but I forgot it was today CAS, for some reason I thought it was still Friday???? Anyway, as anticipated in the discord server, this week Loki fic explore one of my most well guarder kinks, albeit in the form of crack fic. Don't worry, even if crack is still cursed by normal standard! Let's dive in.

Is a prettt short one-shot of only 1256 words and the title sum it up perfectly: "Party Thor: The pussy cave explorer!". As is easly guesses by the title this fic in placed in an alternative reality based on the last "What if...?" episode for marvel, for anyone that had thankfully no idea about what I'm talking about: Thor is a only child frat boy and Loki is a frost giant (emphasis on giant), they are not brothers. Btw, this time is all consensual!!

The fic open with a script-like dialogue between Thor and Loki that goes as follow:

"thor: BIG PUSSY

thor: wait, thor, control yourself

thor: gentle sir, might I climb inside your pussy

thor: please

loki: ...

loki: Go on, get in there

loki: bring a jacket, it's chilly"

At which point Thor, already hard, wear a jacket and approach the giant pussy. He start stroking it but because his hands are small Loki lament that is like tickling and he needs to "put your back into it". So Thor "threw his body against the pussy lips, stroking and caressing with all his limbs, doing an erotic dance of pleasure pressed against the chilly meat wall." finally managing to bring some pleasure to Loki that is now wet. Then start pounding his arms into Loki's pussy at which point Thor notice a swelling above his head, quoting, "his ministrations were having such a strong effect on the ice giant, that his normally shy dickclit had popped out of its hiding place! [···] few Asgardians, if any, could say that they had seen an ice giant's dickclit with their own eyes, let alone lived to tell the tale.". He start stroking it and the contractions almost broke his arms and lauch him in the air. After some more foreplay Thor decide that enough is enough so he lube himself up, jacket and all, and slide inside.

Just to be clear: Thor didn't put his dick inside, he himself went in, his whole body, he crawled into Loki's pussy, y'know, because he is a giant.

Returning to the fic: Thor start wriggling around until he find Loki's G spot and start wriggling even more wildly against it until Loki come clamping down on him and almost suffocating Thor that think he is going to die and I have to share Thor's thought in his final moments:

" "Ah well," thought Thor, "It was worth it to die, if this is how I go out. Deep in the cool pussy of the sexiest giant I have ever seen in my life, even if I never did get to wrap my arms and legs around his cock and ride it like a mechanical bull." "

Anyway, Loki save him by grabbing Thor's feet and pulling him out then offer to reciprocate. Thor is like "Sir. Your a giant." and Loki is like "Oh, right!" so shapeshift into an Asgardian and Thor is very happy because now that he know Loki can shapeshift there is a lot more things they can try.

Loki suck Thor's dick.

The end.

Now, this is the link. If you (like me) click on it because is your kink I'm sorry, but is not that good; if you click on it for the crack than good ride because is funny as hell and comedic like few things I've read:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34055059

I don't expect a very high score, but I needed to share because I'm curious about what you think.

- Loki Anon

What the fuck. And by what the fuck I mean why was that so entertaining. That’s the funniest shit I’ve ever read. I cackled. 2/10 great stuff truly

[bereft-of-frogs]

I always find it odd how broadly speaking, MCU things do well with gen audiences, like Loki got the highest critical scores out of the three MCU shows so far but then for each project there seems to be some really passionate hate too from certain internet corners. Like, I heard someone say Black Widow was awful and I'm like... really?... awful?

Presuming this ask is from me talking last night about I wish the Loki series was the worst show I’ve ever seen, because god I’ve watched some bad shows - Black Widow certainly had its flaws and I wouldn’t count it in the top of the MCU by any means, but again, good god I wish it were the worst movie I’d seen this year alone.

I think the reason general audiences rate these things higher is contextual. Most general audiences go in knowing roughly what they’re going to get out of a high budget tentpole film. They’re going in expected to be entertained and not expecting to have to really think so much so they’re largely satisfied because their expectations have generally been met. Good rating. Boom. Done. And then they don’t think about it until they’re looking for the next thing to do on date night.

The two groups of people who hate these films loudly, consistently, vocally tend to be: the people who think Marvel is ruining all of film and culture and is a moral blight on the world because people aren’t watching Citizen Kane anymore or something. That was a pretty extreme generalization of their viewpoint, I’m sorry haha, and they do have half a point - Disney is fast reaching a terrifying monopoly status in the industry, and their distribution model is really hurting smaller cinemas, and it’s hard to get started as a filmmaker nowadays, just to name a few problems with how dominant they’ve become. But also no, you, individual moviegoer who just wants to watch some pretty people fight each other with good special effects, are not responsible for the death of all culture, and also these people are around for every mass popular phenomenon and surely will be to the end of time.

The second group is the diehard fans who are constantly analyzing and building up expectations, sometimes for years, and are disappointed when those expectations aren’t met, even if otherwise the thing is well constructed. These are people with a personal investment and possibly some...unrealistic ideas about what Marvel Studios is actually able to do, and also have sort of lost sight of what general audiences would want, so they’re crushed when the narratives they’ve built up over time aren’t actually done. I mean, I think sometimes that they’ve even lost sight of what other diehard fans would want, and assume that their singular vision is of universal appeal. I just remember a lot of the most dominate ‘the Loki series better do [this]’ stuff had me going ‘oof I kinda hope it doesn’t...’

But yeah, I think the hate comes from passion and...building up unrealistic expectations and losing sight of how and why these movies appeal to other fans or general audiences.

And I can certainly sympathize, because that was definitely Endgame for me. I think the difference is I can recognize that Endgame was a fairly well produced film, even if I was personally really disappointed by the tone and plot decisions, and I got why people liked it. I think we should really make more room for people to be like 'personally, it was really bad for me, but I also understand how others can like it'. I also often cite Kingsman: The Secret Service as a movie that I personally hated. I really hated it. I had a huge problem with it (and similar to Endgame was also going through some personal stuff that may have colored my experience) but I can still recognize why people enjoyed it and it was a ‘good’ movie.

I also think a lot of the really extremely online fandom types that get this upset over Marvel movies/series...don’t watch a lot of TV. And that’s not me just making stuff up, people talk about that! There are so many posts nowadays where people specifically talk about not being able to get into any new things, or only caring about Loki, or only reading fanfiction. And like, do whatever, I don’t care, but I do watch a lot of television. I make time and space to watch a good deal of television, and I feel like people who are watching more have more of a grasp on the highs and lows, shall we say. Aka, there’s a lot of shit to filter through and when you watch a greater breadth of TV (or film...I’m more in a TV phase right now, but same for film) I think it’s easier to recognize quality and be able to sort things into ‘objectively good’ ‘objectively bad’ categories. (And the related ‘good but I didn’t like it for personal reasons’ ‘bad but I did like it for personal reasons’ subcategories.)

And I will say, I can also sympathize with feeling really confused when you really don’t like something and then it gets a bunch of positive reviews. The true worst TV series I watched this year, Amazon’s Dark/Web, has a good blurb from Den of Geek and a few Emmy nominations (though I’m assuming they were technical...I have to assume they’re technical lol). My so-far least favorite film, Pieces of a Woman, has a 7.1 on IMDB and got good reviews. And it does kind of suck when you’re like ‘hey what the fuck, how is everyone not seeing how bad this is?’ but...I think that’s only solved by watching a lot of TV/movies and getting a sense for your own tastes and different levels of quality, and our society opening up more space for people to feel comfortable saying things like ‘I really didn’t like it, but I can see that it’s well-made and I’m glad you enjoyed it!’ or vice versa. (Which, given how we can barely get people to stop looking for moral reasons to hate something when they just don’t vibe with it...I don’t have a lot of hope lol.)

Disclaimer: not everyone, etc etc, and obviously I’m not talking about the people who say things like ‘eh it wasn’t for me’. That’s a perfectly natural response! It’s okay to not like things, obviously. What I’m specifically referring to is the people who say whatever new Marvel thing it’s the worst show/movie they’ve ever seen, which thus far seems to be no more than a handful, but their posts occasionally make it to my dash and I do think of them every time I’m watching an objectively terrible TV show like ‘god I wish that were me’ XD

[prettyricky187]

Devil Incarnate

Request: No- I was just feeling some type of way

A/N: Thank you to everyone who read, liked, reblogged, and commented on Reid To Me? It is very much appreciated. I hope you like this one as well. Requests are open.

Couple: Spencer/Fem!Reader  Category: Smut, just straight smut Content Warnings: public sex, oral (male receiving), porn without plot Word Count: 2.2K

------------

I swear I was in love with the devil incarnate. She got her entertainment from teasing me and making me flustered at the most inopportune moments. Even now, as we waited for our takeaway to be ready, she was standing in front of me, scrolling on her phone while casually circling her hips against my steadily growing erection.

“Stop moving.” I grunted quietly.

“Why? Is it bothering you?” She grinned up at me. I looked at her with a look that she knew all too well. It was the look that said I knew what she was up to, but refused to partake. She always took it as a challenge.

“Stop,” was all I said but it was only met with a giggle as my name was called.

We had almost made it to the car when she dragged me into the nearby alleyway. She backed me against the wall, pressing herself flush against me. Her lips were like a fucking drug, drawing me in despite the risks involved. The euphoria derived from her kisses was worth whatever consequences would follow. My hands framed her face as I kept her close to me. I could never get enough of her. My whole body felt like it was on fire.

There were always butterflies in my stomach whenever she touched me, but feeling her fingers drag across the skin above my pants sent them into a flurry that would’ve knocked me off my feet had I not been leaning against the wall.

She dropped the bag and made quick work of my belt. She silenced my protests with a harsh kiss when I felt my pants being opened. The sound of the buckle moving around rung out in the quiet air, making it obvious what was happening; as if my pants being mid-thigh wasn’t obvious enough.

“What are you doing? We can’t do this!” I whispered, looking around at all the different ways this poorly thought out plan could go wrong. This was a bad idea.

“Come on Spencer, live a little.” She giggled as she brought her hand to palm at my bulge.

“There are plenty of ways to live that don’t involve us getting arrested for indecent exposure or lewd acts in public!” I couldn’t help the rise in pitch of my voice as the nerves set in.

“The longer you argue with me, the longer you’re out here in your underwear.”

“You’re going to be the death of me.” I mumbled against her lips. I felt her grin when I bucked my hips into her hand, desperate for more friction. I hissed at the way she trailed a finger along the outline of my erection through my underwear.

“What a way to go, am I right?” She teased, dipping her finger under the band. She giggled as my cock bounced out once she pulled my briefs down.

“You’re already so hard. Is that for me?” She asked innocently, like she hadn’t been torturing me for the past 15 minutes and 46 seconds; grinding on my erection in the restaurant then giggling to herself whenever I shifted to try and hide it.

“You already know it is.” I growled, watching her closely. She smiled and began slowly lowering herself to her knees. Any protests I had died on my lips as her intentions became clearer.

“What…what are you doing?”

Logically, I knew where her actions would lead, but I couldn’t believe she would really try this in public. Anyone could walk by at any point and we would be in so much trouble.

“And you say you’re a genius.” She smirked without stopping. Goosebumps rose when her hot breath met the already flushed skin of my hips. “Keep an eye out. I’d hate for us to be interrupted.”

Once she was eye level with my dick, she placed a pert kiss on the tip.

“Oh fuck.” I moaned at the sensation. The sight of her on her knees before me was always something to marvel at. Although it seemed as though I was the one in control, the man towering over the woman, we both knew she held the power in this situation. I would always do anything she asked of me.

“That’s better.” She smirked up at me as she gently placed strategic kisses against my skin. I kept waiting for her to actually dosomething, but she kept avoiding the place where I needed her the most. Each kiss sent shockwaves throughout my body, building the anticipation to unbearable levels.  

“Don’t tease me.”

She grinned, continuing to press kisses along the sides, purposely ignoring my aching tip. She was a fucking tease and I loved it, but I also really hated it. She was truly the devil.

“I would never.” The look that accompanied her lie was sinful. She knew exactly what she was doing, and she relished in it; knowing that she could get me so wound up to the point that I snapped at her. It was a game to her, and I’d dare say it was one of her favorites.

“Then put your fucking mouth on me.” I ordered, pressing my hand on the back of her head. We didn’t have much time; the alley would only be empty for so long. As hot as this was, I really wasn’t keen on actually getting caught.

“So impatient.”

The initial warmth that spread through me as she wrapped her lips around me was always pure bliss. I let out a loud moan as my head hit the brick wall behind me, so distracted that I couldn’t even care about who might walk by and hear us. Her mouth tightened around me and I stifled a low groan, the little that remained of the logical part of my brain desperately trying not to draw any further attention to us.

Fuck she was way too good at this; she always knew how to turn me into putty for her.

“Lick it.”

I watched with rapt attention as she maintained eye contact, sticking her tongue out and sloppily licking at the tip before gliding her mouth along the underside of my dick.

“Fuck,” I hissed, “lick the tip.”

My instruction spurred her on. My abdomen clenched as she took more of me in before swirling her tongue around my tip like it was her favorite flavor ice cream cone. The heat from her tongue followed by the immediate cold from the night air was a conflicting sensation that felt beyond words.

“Please,” I begged, “I need more.” I bucked my hips as I spoke, needing more of her mouth on me. I couldn’t help it; I wanted my dick down her throat. Every time I tried to push further into her mouth, she would pull away with that damned smirk.

After a moment of the cat and mouse game, I finally put my hands on her head to keep her steady as I buried myself inside her mouth. I decidedly ignored her mumbled comment about how bossy I was as I lolled my head back, just losing myself in the sensations of the wet warmth surrounding my cock.

“Oh, sweet Jesus. Fucking…take it!” I bucked my hips forward and down her throat. As ordered, she took each thrust in stride before pulling off of me to breathe. The sight of the string of saliva that connected my tip to her lips was downright filthy, and I brought my thumb down to trace the side of her mouth. I was usually fairly thankful for my eidetic memory, but never more so than now, because it meant that I would never forget how she looked in that moment.

“You taste so good, Spencer.” She moaned, moving her hand up and down my dick. “I missed your cock, especially in my mouth. Been too long since I’ve gotten to suck you off.”

I couldn’t help the moan that escaped me at her words. I always loved her telling me how much she wanted me. Knowing that she wanted me was enough to make me feel proud as a peacock.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

Cases took me away from home far too often, but thankfully she understood and never held it against me. I loved her immensely for it. She shook her head and took me back in her mouth, bobbing at a steady pace. It wasn’t until she could feel my thighs tense before she pulled off once again.

“You gonna cum for me Spencer?” She asked, using her hand to jack me off in the absence of her mouth. “You want to cum on my face?”

Oh fuck; my heart stopped as I recalled an image of her face painted in my cum. That seemed like an incredibly appealing option. However, since I didn’t want to make a mess without a way to clean it up, that would have to wait for another day.

“You better put me back in your mouth. You’re not wasting this.”

The noise she made was halfway between a moan and a squeak, but she complied and wrapped her lips around me again. I watched in awe as she sloppily sucked on me. I’m sure some of the noises she made weren’t necessary, but fuck if they weren’t music to my ears. The combination of slurps and moans was enough to bring me even closer to the edge. She knew how to hit on each one of my senses to make it an all-consuming event every time.

“So fucking good. Always make me feel so good.” I knew she picked up on the tension in my voice. “Always look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.”

She let out a pleased moan and bobbed her head faster. My toes curled in my shoes as sparks shot up my spine as I neared my end.

“Stop.” I put my hands on the sides of head and held her still. “I want to fuck your face.”

The grin she returned told me she'd known exactly what I was going to say before I had even said it. I slowly began thrusting into her mouth, moaning as she kept swirling her tongue around me. I couldn’t help but moan at how slick everything felt as I slid past her lips. I sheathed myself particularly deep and held still for a moment, grunting at the feeling of her contracting around me before pulling back out. I felt my abdomen clench as I realized how wet my balls were, not doubt the spit that dribbled out as I fucked her face.

I stared at her face, unshed tears in her eyes and her wet lips, while I used my hand on myself. She practically whimpered, trying to lean forward to take me back in her mouth, but I held her back with my other hand.

“Don’t be greedy.” I chided, shaking my head.

“This was my idea.” Her eyes didn’t leave my hand and I could see the desire to be in its place. “Please.”

Oh, that breathy plea always did something to me; I could never say no to it.

Without saying anything, I let go of my cock and brought her head back down.

“You really do love my dick, don’t you?” I grunted. She moaned and nodded, swirling her tongue around as she sucked. Fuck, I loved her tongue.

“Suck it.” I moved my hips faster. I could almost imagine I was fucking her. “So good.” Everything was so warm, wet, and tight that I couldn’t take it any longer.

My jaw dropped as my orgasm hit me like freight truck, but I could hardly muster a sound. It felt like every muscle in my body tensed as I tried to get as deep in her throat as I could possibly go; it never felt like enough. My fingers threaded through her hair and pulled her flush against me as I shot my load down her throat. She made no noises of complaint as my hips rutted against her face with the aftershocks. The reality of what we’d just done crashed into me as I looked at the garbage dump mere feet from her.

“You are…evil.” I breathed out, drunkenly eying her in my post-orgasmic haze while she stood up with a salacious grin. “You’re the actual devil.”

“You love me.”

I nodded in agreement because she wasn’t wrong. I watched as she fixed my pants before pressing a gentle kiss to my lips. Such a loving action after such a filthy moment, that I couldn’t help but laugh at the juxtaposition.

“What?” Her smile was so sweet and lovely.

“I can’t believe you just sucked me off in an alleyway.”

I didn’t even want to think about how many risks we had taken just then. The fact that anyone could’ve walked by and seen us, never mind the amount of trouble that I could’ve gotten in, was something that we would never mention again.

“I can’t believe you let me.” She countered almost immediately. We both knew I was powerless to stop her, nor did I want to. “Don’t lie though, I know you enjoyed yourself.”

Well she wasn’t wrong there.

[meyeselph]

Gwenpool: Desperate Misanthrope's Confused Angst

Showtime

Ms. Pool woke up in a familiar room. Not in Krakoa - there are no mutants around. This isn’t a story about that. Look, honestly, without an actual Gwenpool series and the constant breaks in her comics appearance I can’t even begin to give a fuck. I cancelled my marvel universe subbie. I might get back to my stories but single issues are iffy. I read fast and don’t pore over the artwork. So I get 10 minutes of entertainment for….FIVE DOLLARS? When did this happen? Jeezus.

Who even reads comics anymore?

Anyway, long story short, Gwen got out of bed and recognized the room as her old one from the “old times.” The dark times. The ‘not running around in pink and white outfits and shooting people’ times. She panicked (Been there. It is what it is though). The only way out of trauma is through.

She dressed in old clothes, immediately hit by old smells, she couldn’t help but cry. Was it all a dream? Have I gone insane (again)? All the usual self doubts cropped up. I mean, really, if you think this kind of thing didn’t pass through her mind regularly why don’t you transport yourself to a comic book universe?

Oh, you can’t?

Oh. It isn’t actually possible for you and I’m stupid for suggesting it. So, yeah. If it actually happened and you kept that attitude then the logical assumption for a normie is a mental breakdown. Trick for Gwen, though, is it's probably always been both real and her being nuts.

So she goes downstairs to the kitchen to figure out why this is happening and Evil Gwen is having cereal. Let's say cocoa puffs. I’ve been thinking about those recently. You ever remember cereal as something worth cherishing. Not as just bullshit that TV convinced you to want? God damn, now I want Cookie Crisp. Cookie Crisp wasn’t even ever that good. Why do I want Cookie Crisp?

So also sitting around the table were the faceless versions of her father, mother, and her brother. Just chilling. No BD. Seen Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind?

Yes, I know that references aren’t jokes - fuck you, I’m painting a picture and I CAN’T PAINT, THAT’S WHY THIS ISN’T A COMIC. Fucks sake. Anyway. So, Gwen is so creeped out that she just sits her butt down by Evil Gwen as if she’s the comforting presence here.

Her name’s too long. Let’s call Evil Gwen uh…….Gren. You know, like Grendel from Beowulf. I haven’t actually read Beowulf and this is all a little confusing but I'm solving problems here. Writing this is harder for me than you would think so it’s best to keep things flowing off the cuff. That’s the Gwenpool™ style anyway, isn’t it? Are you laughing yet? IMPROV. “YES AND” MY SHIT, READER!

“So, you ever really look into the retconned past thing, hun?” Gren said, moving her tongue around her food. Being gross as an attempt to be properly evil. She swallowed before continuing. “This is all I could really put together on short notice but i’m pretty sure what the future people created, all that stuff to try and trick you, it was all bullshit.”

“What do you mean? Are you trying to convince me to go all psycho like you again?” Gwen asked, exasperated, realizing she was now back in the whole ‘fuck with Gwen to decide her fate’ song and dance routine from the end of her first arc.

“Nah, not really.” Gren said. A hammer appeared in her hands out of nowhere and Gren swung it into their fake father’s head, snapping his neck..

“DAD!” Gwen instinctively cried as she saw her father’s body slump to the floor. Gren slapped Gwen’s face. “That’s it,” Gren said, “this is what the trick was.This is a poorly created character in a fictional story. Meant to manipulate you into attaching your concept of “father” to it. Even his finished version in the original comics run wasn’t THAT well drawn. Your dad read like a boomer’s idea of a responsible parent. You were going through a mental crisis and struggling to find purpose in life and his genius idea was get a shitty low paying job and suck it up?”

Gren turned to their brother, pushed his face to the table and smashed the back of his skull. . “Brother dearest, too. Going right along with their victim blaming. He gaslighted you as if what you were going through was just you being ‘irresponsible.’ Bitch, people working a minimum wage job aren’t somehow not impoverished and miserable because they get some of that ‘honest work’ that folks keep badgering on about. Minimum wage work is occupied by many physically and mentally disabled people held hostage; they’re people society only pretends to care about. Then they turn it all into you acting like some world ending threat. No questions about what drove you to the edge in the first place. You are just ‘unstable,’ so you’re just a problem to be solved. They say, ‘Let’s all solve this girl being upset and on edge by ruining her concept of self, reality, and memory.’ Brilliant!”

Gwen barely processed this in horror. Gren then slit the poor facsimile of their mother’s throat while continuing to rant, “You see people die all the time, Gwen. Half of the time you are doing the killing. You do it because it’s in a story. In a story the NPCs don’t matter and, after all, your original schtick in the story was to be kill-crazy. The non-marketable characters can be replaced or retconned at the stroke of the artist’s pen.” Gren leans forward as she pulls a Gwenpool mask over Gwens face. “Then the writers convince you that you have some middle class milk toast family and you take abuse and subsume your emotional needs because the problem MUST be you. You aren’t ‘normal’ so you have to be fixed.”

Gwen wiped her eyes over the mask and sighed. A bit of fire filled her gut as she stared at Gren. “So fucking what? You want me to go on a killing spree and be a big time villain to get myself a nice, shiny permanent big bad status? That’s how I stay around right? Just build my legacy on bodies?”

Gren scoffed “You already lost that fight, girly. Where do you think we are? Because this ain’t Marvel Comics.”

Confused, Gwen blinked and tried reaching for the page margins, finding nothing. Wait….why was everything on this page so ill defined and undetailed? Wait? Why was the story in kinda wobbly third person past tense?

Gwen sighed “Oh. I’m in a fanfic. I guess the publishing fight is for another day eh?”

“My advice, personally,” Gren stated, “is that you consider the lobster.”

“Wait, what the fuck?”

Gren pulled aside the kitchen curtains revealing the face of a giant lobster, its claws tapping on the glass. The lobster muttering gutterally about personal responsibility.

“Because there’s a couple thousand giant lobsters outside that would like to claw you until you read their book.”

--

Scared of Girls

On the rooftop, Gren shoved a high powered rifle into Gwen’s hands while she handled the close range threats. So, this conversation they’re about to have is important. Sniping puts Gwen into a sort of zen space, so that’s a better task to keep her focused, after all.

“So, what? You wanted me to internalize that my “origin story” is bullshit? Okay, what does that accomplish, then?” Gwen asked in a bit of a deadpan. She was so tired today. Not really feeling her happy go lucky energy. More like a “happy go fucky” energy. It was hard to always be on a knife's edge. Still the rifle’s kick into her shoulder was satisfying as she blew through two of the creepy looking lobsters at once. “Also, why the lobsters?”

Gren considered this. “Okay, last question first, I had to experiment a lot and do a lot of research to construct this place for your learning and healing in fanfic form....These buddies are a failed experiment of mine that I repurposed because the fic needed more action. Isn’t that right, giant enemy crap?” As she peppers the nearest goon with a hail of shotgun pellets the entire throng of them burst out, sharply muttering about divine symbols.

“As for what I'm trying to teach you, it’s that you aren’t reaching your potential.” Gren grumpily huffed.

“Duh,” Gwen reloads, “I mean you just killed a mannequin version of the voice in my head that says that to me every day.” one of those crustaceans talks about feminine symbolism while she decides on her next target.

“Not like fake daddy’s ‘Be a responsible member of society by paying your taxes’ type of potential. I mean your creative and emotional potential.” Gren flipped off the slavering throng of monsters, noticing they were starting to keep their distance from the roof.

“I never did finish that fanfic idea I had.” Gwen mused.

“God, don’t mention that,” Gren thrusts a finger at Gwenpool. “Not that I don’t respect fanfic, but when comic book writers make you and Kamala squee about fanfiction to try and relate to “the kids” it comes across as so condescending.”

“Really? I mean…..I'm sure it’s meant as support for the concept?”

“Most fucking superhero comics are just legalized fanfiction! The people who created the characters are either long gone or working on someone else’s characters! They just think they are so much better because they got fucking paid. They can’t imagine themselves as on the same playing field as fanficcers even though most of them have the same level of connection to the roots of the work as anyone else.” Gren groused loudly as she seemed to pull Reed Richards out of nowhere.

Confused, Reed looked around until his eyes met Gwen’s.“Oh great, you again.” Reed groaned as he turned to survey the piles of lobster gibs while Gwen cheered the lobster forces’ retreat with a resounding “EDF, EDF!”. The scattered creatures skittered amongst the bland scenery. It looked like a suburban neighborhood but someone forgot to color in the sky….or write that the sky had color. A castle hung out in the distance breaking up the generic normalcy and lay cloaked in shadow despite being surrounded by an endless white void.

“And…..black….you?” Reed pointed to Gren, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I have an evil future self….well I stopped that future so it’s an….evil...alternate timeline self?” Gwen said with a nervous chuckle, abandoning the kill quest for the minute and rested her rifle on the roof.

“Ah. Yeah I’ve been down that road. It’s a rather common occurrence. Multiverse being what it is.” Reed laughed heartily while putting his hands on his hips.

“I’m not sure I’m evil, honestly,” Gren interjected. “I think I’m just really fucking grumpy and I’m slightly more gung-ho on the homicide. Considering Gwen’s already one of the more kill crazy characters on the roster it’s not that much of a distinction.” Gren flipped her cape. “My main distinction is I don’t like that meme from The Incredibles! You can just make it so the cape detaches automatically when it’s pulled hard enough!”

“You could still have it tangled up around your face.” Reed pointed out in his standard know-it-all fashion.

“Don’t make me go into fuck wife mode, stretch.” Gren spat. “Okay, anyway, so I brought him here to illustrate a point. Reed. Explain particle physics to me as a laymen.”

“Huh...i’m not sure why but okay. Particle physics (also known as high energy physics) is a branch of physics that studies the nature of the particles that constitute matter and radiation. Although the word particle can refer to various types of very small objects (e.g. protons, gas particles, or even household dust), particle physics usually investigates the irreducibly smallest detectable particles and the fundamental interactions necessary to explain their behaviour. In current understanding, these elementary particles are excitations of the quantum fields that also govern their interactions. The currently dominant theory explaining these fundamental particles and fields, along with their dynamics, is called the Standard Model. Thus, modern particle physics generally investigates the Standard Model and its various possible extensions, e.g. to the newest "known" particle, the Higgs boson, or even to the oldest known force field, gravity.” Reed rattled this off rather mechanically.

Gren then took out her phone and showed Gwen the Wikipedia article on “Particle Physics,” which is naturally the same words that Reed had regurgitated above, just without any formatting and, again, on a phone.

“Reed can’t be a genius in any subject unless he’s written by a genius in that subject. That’s how stories work. Everyone is limited by the understanding and capabilities of the writer. Same with your origin story and all the people you’ve interacted with. If you are as ‘meta’ as you think you are then you have to realize that you aren’t actually talking to people. You are talking to the writer. Dr. Strange didn’t rewrite your existence to be a part of the Marvel Universe. As far as most of Marvel continuity goes Dr. Strange was never there and doesn’t know or care about his MCU casting…..Hey Reed, buzz off please before the conversation pivots to why you haven’t cured all known diseases.”

Reed looked a little surprised but then pulled out a teleportation device (of course he has one) and blipped away with a shrug.

“How awkward is that going to be when he enters the MCU after Kamala is already introduced with a very similar power set?” Gwen chuckled.

“Keep up the way you’ve been going and you’ll never see it. I’m not exactly expecting a young blonde girl casting call for Deadpool 3 and that’s your best bet.” Gren snarked. Gwen winced with a sigh.

“I don’t get what I'm doing wrong. I have a fanbase comparable to some of the characters that have already shown up but I can’t even get comics written about me most of the time. An MCU push seems unlikely. They would literally have to deal with completely recontextualizing my powers and gimmick”

“Let’s ask her what you should do.” Gren motioned her way to the suddenly appearing long hair future Gwen, looming over them like The Attack of the 50 foot Woman for some reason. Dwarfing the roof they are on. Let’s call her BIGwen!

--

Gold Guns Girls

As BIGwen acclimated to her surroundings she stubbed her toe on a car, dramatically flipping it so that it took out a few more lobsters before caving in a nearby house. The lamentations about clean rooms soaring as the remaining couple dozen of them attempt to clean up some of the bodies of their fallen kin. The large and sort-of-in-charge Gwen hissed in pain and adjusted her boot. Getting her balance as best as possible she muttered curses that traveled rather well considering the lung capacity of a giant.

“You know,” Gren started, “I wasn’t expecting much from our previous uses of the ‘make her big for emphasis’ trick, but it really does only work as a vague ghostly background element. I didn’t just want it to be ‘oh, here's a third Gwen for the conversation, though. Would lack umph.”

“ Yeah, I get it, but staring at my own giant taint is unsettling.” Gwen muttered.

“I’d still, hit it.” Gren grinned, then immediately got punched in the arm. “OWWW! Look, I’m the evil one here and we’re in a fanfic. I’m allowed to make internet fetish jokes.”

“And I’m allowed to hit you for it.”.

“Dirty lampshading goody two shoes. Don’t act like half your fanbase isn’t thirsty. It’s “insert current year argument”, all art is sexy to someone.” Gren complained back,rubbing her arm before hopping off the roof. Gwen followed while listening as patiently as she could considering how many changes in topic her evil-caped self is going through to get to her point. “This chick is the reason you’ve been on the path of good girl. Some vague idea that in the future everything will work out for the best. HEY, DOWN HERE, BIG SHOW!” Gren waved at BIGwen and she looked down curiously.

“Yeah what??” BIGwen responded in a booming and agitated tone. Honestly, being in this fic made every version of Gwen a little grumpy.

“How’s she supposed to be a popular hero that makes it into the MCU and has a stable publication history?” Gren asked.

“Fuck if I know.” Came BIGwen’s response. “Have you tried growing your hair out?”

“Rub it in,” Gwen muttered under her breath, “I’m not gonna lie, I’m kind of depressed now.” Gwen said as she sat on an abandoned car.

Gren hopped on the roof of the car, patting Gwen’s shoulder before squatting with enough force to flex the car’s shocks like a rocking chair just to amuse herself. “Future “good” Gwen wasn’t an actual plot point, it was a call to action to the fans to make fanfic like this and support the character outside of the actual Canon. Chris didn’t trust that Marvel would treat the character right. That, and your obsession with getting a new book, are both the writer’s attempt to turn a marketing tactic into fan engagement. If you want to be real then that makes the fans want you to be real even more, too.”

Gwen sighs heavily and leans her chin on one hand. “I mean...the time traveling through the life of an NPC fan complete with a Never Ending Story reference was a bit sappy even by the standard we sometimes set...damn it it really was just kind of a fan manipulation trick wasn’t it?”

BIGwen Sat down on the street next to them and crossed her legs. “Hey, little me. Don’t get too down. I mean it worked for the most part. You have a healthy cult following. Characters have survived on less and there are worse things to be known for then as a fan first character”

“But I have to fight for attention all the damn time, though. It’s so easy for Wade with his fucking meme bullshit. He even gets runoff enthusiasm from me. Jeff the land shark is all over Oldpool online” Gwen felt rather heavy and tired all of a sudden. Marvel editorial forcing a gun to your head is not a fun way to be.

“All that fight is hell on the fanbase too.” Gren sighed. “Advocating for shit, getting crumbs and being expected to accept it while Disney lavishes all the attention based on some bullshit numbers game. Even if you make it into the MCU will it be a Batroc style cameo with obligatory ‘killed off in case we don’t feel like paying the actor again later.’ Will it be an emotionally rounded character or an ambush bug style joke? The thing is. You're Not the one fighting and you never were.”

“The fuck do you mean?”

“This version of her doesn’t know?” BIGwen whimpered.

“You aren’t real, Gwen.”

--

Head Like a Haunted House

“No….we aren’t having this conversation. Fuck you fuck you i’m not a fucking Nihlist and i’m not going to do this right now.” Gwen said as she scrambled off of the car and pulled out some guns. BIGwen then picked her up off the ground.

“You need to hear this, Gwen,” BIGwen boomed. “The gimmick has run its course. It’s fucking with your canon. You’re never going to be a marketable character keeping up a half fourth-wall Kayfabe”

Gren climbed onto BIGwen’s Shoulders and perched over Gwen all menacing like. “You need to listen. I’ve been trying to ease you into this. Making things more meta slowly until you were ready but it was never going to be easy.”

One of Gwen’s guns was fired from it’s holster and pierced one of BIGwen’s fingers. BIGwen screamed and her grip loosened. Soon Gwen was on the move running up her arm and firing at Gren, who dodged like the nimble and cute badass she is. “Don’t do this Gwen. Just because it doesn’t matter to the comic version of you doesn’t mean it doesn’t matter.”

“I’m a real person god damn it! I read the comics out there! I came in! That’s why I know shit I shouldn't know. That’s what I am! THAT’S ALL I AM!” Gwen shrieked as she pulled out a sword from hammer-space and decapitated BIGwen. Suddenly a mess of colored streamers and a pile of Mickey Mouse merch tumbled out. Look, I am busy right now. Gwen is still slashing at my ass. I'm not going to explain it.

For some reason now the remaining lobsters were helping Gren. For Gwen’s own good you understand. This is proof that I’m right for some reason.

Gwen pulled out a revolver, firing pumpkin sized holes in lobsters who were still wailing about self actualization. She fully planned on shoving a sword up her evil self’s ass and getting rid of this doppelganger shit for good. Which is total bullshit by the way. She totally just cut off Gren’s leg because what the fuck you mean I’m not real? I’m going to be real all over your corpse.

Gren didn’t really think that was even a good comeback and also thought you should probably say it instead of meta willing the smack talk into existence, otherwise this fanfic is going to read like trash. Also, Gren’s leg wasn’t actually cut off. In a puff of smoke it is revealed that the cut off leg is a log and her leg is fine. Gren is a ninja now, believe it.

Gwen proceeded to do a sick ass CQC judo throw on Gren and then grab her cape and wrap it around her face like Reed suggested. Callbacks for the win! Callbacks to Checkov’s gun ideas always lead to victory in fights! She then totally shot at her and such.

But the bullet was caught by the cape because the cape was a symbiote! That’s right Gren is also GRENOM!...boy that sounds stupid. Anywho, the cape was no longer around her face and the fight continued and Gren now ALSO had extra powers and special wizard-symbiote armor (that would only show up in the MCU version if Marvel finally got the Sony characters back). The meta powers work like shit in text but this would be really good in CGI or animation if Marvel wanted to adapt this fic and give the writer lots of money. Gren still has more experience with them, though, and Gwen can’t really just kill her way out of this fic so she has to just let the story play out.

…...eh?....oh Gwen’s crying. I love/am you girl but we gotta work on the crying. Fucks sake this is harder than I thought. I’m depressed now too. Well I'll try to get the writing back on track so you guys can see what is going on. Even the lobsters are minding their manners now. Chill vibes, guys.

“The marvel character page for Gwenpool says, and I quote:

Gwenpool arrived in the Marvel Universe from the “real world,” but has wasted no time in making the most of her time in her fictional universe. Using her knowledge of comics to her advantage, Gwenpool causes and solves problems for her fellow heroes.”

Gren drags a lobster corpse slowly toward Gwen and sits on its tail as she talks to her. Taking her time to really scrape the lobster against the ground, smearing the gore on the pavement. Not that it was heavy for her or anything. Totally still has that symbiote, which would make moving it easy. Totally wasn’t a detail added in the second revision of the fic slightly before the lobsters were added.

“The words “Real world” are in quotation marks in that wiki. Real people don’t make it into comics because fiction isn’t real. Half of your versions barely make use of the ‘real person’ gimmick because it’s too meta by half and not every writer wants to waste time justifying it. So they just treat it like Deadpool’s medium awareness. Which it mostly is.”

“I really am just a fucking rip off distaff character.” Gwen moans. “Just a Gwen combined with a Pool. I’m worse than the Batman who laughs. I never mattered because I was never real”

“Fuck don’t say that. You were made with love and care by a team of creators who took a weird offshoot idea and built out a compelling metafiction idea and a likeable protagonist off of it. They just didn’t have the time and foresight to go far enough.” Gren sighed.

“Far enough?” Gwen sniffed as she was pulled up to her feet and dragged toward one of the big castles. As they walked Gren kicked along a Mickey Mouse doll that had rolled out of BIGwen’s severed head. Every time it bounced it cheerfully said ‘hahah. I love you!’

“Too much haha, not enough trauma. You’re not just a joke character.” Gren said as she kicked the Mickey doll into the big front door of the castle. The shadowy thing of course lighting up and being all fantasy and shit as the door opened.

“Well I did end both of my comic runs pretty mopey.”

“Damn right you did. When the jokes run thin they run to your real bread and butter. You’re an empathy machine.” As Gren shoves Gwen through the gate they are swallowed up in the castle, going dark again. “Let’s getcha sad clown on.”

--

Never there

“See, what evil me should have been telling you about in the original run is how to find meaning and purpose when technically nothing means anything. Comic book characters live in a world without real death and suffering. It’s all a puppet show version of real pain and real emotion meant to bring that out of an audience.” Gren opined as they walked through a black void to a couch floating in a nothing area lit only by the static of an old TV.

“Can we turn on a light?” Gwen asked as she sat on the couch. Gren sat on another recliner that suddenly appeared and put her feet up.

“Fuck off. Ambiance is a thing. We aren’t having a ‘lights on with something fun on the TV’ conversation. So look, I am not really ‘evil gwen.’ I’m half an author insert and half a plot device. If we are talking about the reality of the story you are basically talking to yourself. I am speaking about the things you don’t want to admit to yourself. You know, you’ve seen this kind of story sorta... right?” Gren picked up the remote and frustratedly changed channels between a bunch of vaguely illustrative footage on the TV, not finding anything that worked. A lot of black and white footage of trains for some reason. Just what comes to mind when I think of documentary footage? Weird.

“I am not sure how to illustrate this shit visually and this is a text story anyway so I would have to explain the illustration,” Gren griped.

“I basically get it. It’s not that uncommon a trope.” Gwen nodded.

“Because of the level of meta we are on right now we have to really acknowledge that you are basically an author insert, too. I mean, to a certain extent every version of you is more the writer that is working with your character at the time than a set character.” Gren said as she settled on a visual of Gwen being pushed out the window by her own narration text in the original comic run. When all else fails, resort to footage from the last story. That way people can look it up online!

“Right here is where the character crystallized in the mind of the author of the current fic we are in. A vague suicide metaphor wrapped up in the flavor of self destructive escapism. Your parents in the story thought it was a suicide attempt on at least some level. This is serious business. Not just a girl who doesn’t like work and can’t finish her fanfic. In this comic you are built on this understanding. The writer of this fic has ADHD and autism. So his version of you more or less has it, too. Writers bring themselves with them into their work.”

Gwen nods and takes a deep breath. “I….I can feel it. Like the world is closing around you. You aren’t built for anything that anyone wants from you. The one thing you really believe in, the one thing that really defines you, the stories in your head…..it’s just not enough.

You can’t trust you’ll ever make it with writing because you can barely write. You barely have the energy to do anything but wish that you weren’t you. What if someone actually listened? Actually believed in you and whisked you away somewhere else where the world would fit your needs? What if you were someplace you could be someone else, someone strong and confident?”

“Yeah. Like a funny anti hero in a comic for instance.” Gren nodded. “But the original comics sort of left the theme on the table. They were captured by the misconception of Gwen as the problem and not a person who needed help. All that desperation that real fans of the character might feel just bundled up into love for this character that really ‘gets’ them but Marvel doesn’t ‘get’ the character. They won't use her. They won’t go past vaguely gesturing at her mental issues and moving on. They saved the angst for Wandavision.” Gren scoffs.

“I mean the show was okay but they literally have a character built entirely on the theme of escapism and trauma. One that’s custom built for mind-screw visuals and reality bending plots and they think she’s just a lazy fangirl who really likes guns that they can sit beside Deadpool sometimes and stick in the X-Men’s bloated background character roster when they don’t need her.”

Gren leads Gwen off the couch and deeper into the void where a door to a bedroom waits. A room like her own, absolutely slopping over with old toys of comic book characters. An unclean messy space in a run-down house that smells faintly of cigarette smoke. Huddled in bed, reading an 80s era X-men comic with a flashlight, is a 12 year old Gwen.

“This is never going to be canon but this is the version of Gwen in this fic. She can’t stop crying at school. Things that shouldn’t be hard are so hard and she can’t explain why. Everyone says she’s making excuses. Meanwhile her mother is fucked out of her mind on pain killers and her step father killed himself last year ‘cleaning his gun’ while drunk. You know exactly what is on her mind right now?” Gren says as she gestures at the girl.

“I wish the superheroes would save me from this.”

“They won’t. They can’t. They were never meant to.” Gren Slams the door loudly on the scene.

“That is the emotional core of Gwenpool in this fic. The desperation that so many of the fans down here in the fucking muck of the real world feel. Poor and emotionally unfulfilled. Confused and vulnerable. If Disney and Marvel gave two fucking shits about people like that they wouldn’t waste as many stories as they do. They wouldn’t just use untold wealth to make expensive escapist stories with the military. Their gestures toward progressive ideas that they occasionally make in their stories would be THE ENTIRE POINT of their stories and the actual thing they used that money for instead of lobbying the government to keep Mickey Mouse out of the public domain.

“Disney has the power yet they save a fucking miniscule fraction of who they could. Saving people doesn’t make money.”

--

When I Get To The Green Building

Gren stormed through the void. The scene disintegrated around her as Gwen followed. Both now in a bit of a sour mood but with newfound determination.

“Come to think of it. Why is the fucking Hulk getting to fight for social justice in the comics? Why are they making a gay alternate universe Captain America? Why are they grasping at straws so hard to find characters that get to advocate and I am just sitting on a fucking island being grumpy?” Gwen groused. “I’m pretty sure I’m pansexual….at least in this fic. I could advocate for a bunch of shit at once.”

“You have a youth fanbase, a unique story and you technically aren’t an alternate universe version of fucking anything no matter how many people still think you are a Stacey. They made a fucking ‘for the fans’ character and then neglected it. Presumably because some fucking money making metric didn’t pan out despite the comics just being an MCU test kitchen and IP farm anyway.”

“You’re a fucking check mark on a ledger. I don’t even know if anyone technically created Gwenpool as a whole and Disney/Marvel can give the character to whoever they want to do whatever they want completely separate from what the fanbase wants and needs because she isn’t established. The IP landlords have spoken. The fans haven’t risen to enough ‘buy my merch’ calls to action to invest more resources. So tease endlessly until that changes.”

“Gah. Now I'm actually as pissed as you are.” Gwen said as she started fiddling with her guns. “Who do I kill?”

“We can’t do shit. You’re not even a character at this point. You are a meme for an underused character.” Gren smirked all evil like. “See but that’s it. You aren’t just a meme. You’re a MEME.”

“Uhm...I don't follow.”

“Like the concept of Justice. Gwenpool is an idea. Defined entirely by how people who engage with the idea choose to engage with it. The IP law means Disney owns Gwenpool but they don’t own how Gwenpool is perceived. Just like we as a people decide what justice is through popular consent we also decide what Gwenpool is. You see they made a character for the fans…..in my opinion that means the fans can do as they like with it even if it makes Disney uncomfortable.”

“I mean they can’t even stop porn of their characters just because of the sheer volume of the problem. I suppose people could do whatever.” Gwen nodded.

“Exactly. So the fans should just fucking Occupy Gwenpool!” Gren said as she flipped her cape dramatically with a mad smile on her face. That’s right. She was Dirtbag Leftist Gwen all along!

“Squat on that IP. Make Gwenpool a mental health advocate. Make her an LGBTQ activist. Make her fight for social and financial justice so hard that Bruce Banner looks like a poser. Make her talk shit about politicians who put their career ahead of the people. Do all the shit that makes the comicsgate crowd sad. Keep politics in our stories! Rally around that pink and white ass so hard they have to notice and then tie it all to the fact that Disney has great power and with great power they take no responsibility for how shitty the world is.”

“ If they are going to fuck Gwenpool fans they gotta learn Gwenpool fans fuck back. We have already proven we can make all kinds of cool shit. Let’s get serious and make more, harder, faster! Get a hashtag or some shit. They can't DMCA all of us! GWEN IS OURS WE JUST HAVE TO REACH OUT AND TAKE IT. Then they either respect the character and her fans or they just hit a PR disaster.”

“Marvel/Disney neglects fan focused cult character themed protest movements. Proves they are only progressive when it makes them money. They’re so worried about Mickey ending up in the public domain? We’re the public domain! After our entire lives stannin their characters and buyin their merch building them from an animation house into a juggernaut they are just another weight on top of the boot on our necks. They have to take responsibility!” At this point Gren is pretty much ranting maniacally and neglecting the actual writing of the story so this is Gwen taking over to wrap up.

Guys I may not be ‘the real Gwen’ but really, isn’t the version of Gwen that actually came from the real world all of us? Isn’t Gwenpool really the Gwens we made along the way? We could easily bring a little heroism and chaos to the real world (at least to the internet) if we really tried. Put the fear of God into some IP landlords and fight for some cool people that society is screwing over, too.

Prove that even in the fandom abyss people aren’t as powerless as they seem. Use that internet comic fan mobbing for something besides giving Zack more money. Disney is gearing up for their next IP fight for Mickey in 2024. Seems like a fine time for IP themed protests. For now we just need to spread the word that our needs are more important than their profits.

It’s been real. It’s been long. It’s been a real long time coming…..

But I finally finished my fanfic.

See ya, true believers.

[bagofbonesmp3]

plz bitch about bw movie <3 i want to know

ok under the cut because i get annoying ❤️

I'd like to preface with the fact that the MCU could never do a good black widow movie. EVER. they don't have the range. they don't have the ability to write deep characters. nat is complicated to say the least and they fucked her up since she was created so she's not natasha. she's natalie.

but they went OVERBOARD with the usamericanism. like i get it, you couldn't find Russian people who wanted to touch your movie with a stick but CMON. they changed her whole backstory it's almost funny how much she isn't the black widow. she could be the purple caterpillar for all i care. she spent part of her childhood in OHIO. the movie is so clearly usamerican that you can't suspend your disbelief that these characters are Russian. not only because they had NO RUSSIAN ACTORS. IN YOUR VERY PROMINENT RUSSIAN MOVIE. but also because the jokes, the attitude these characters have, it's just... usamerican. i can't explain it. it just is.

this doesn't go well with the fact that this is just another formulaic marvel movie. you have the jokes every five fucking seconds (which, btw, are any of you laughing with marvel movies anymore? last time i laughed while watching one was when shuri made t'challa's epic fail video), the pacing is weird as hell, the villains are literally flavorless, the secondary characters overshadow the protagonist and so on. it did have a slightly different vibe that reminded me of catws (may her soul rest in peace) which made it more bearable than any of marvel's other monstrosities. but like. it's almost nothing.

the whole climax was so... underwhelming? i was staring at it sipping at my drink feeling nothing. not anxiety not fear NOTHING. i blame scarjo for not being a good actress like... she was surrounded by so many frankly good actors that she just disappeared for me. her emotional range is literally zero. she was fighting those other widows which should have been traumatizing and painful but she was like 😟 the fight while falling down the sky IS a cool concept i thought it was cool but yknow. it was just well done SFX. also the pacing was SO WEIRD. stick yo your fucking three act formula for god's sake.

the nuclear family thing they pushed onto her is so stupiiiiid. like, even natasha says it in the end of the movie "i thought I had no family" because in the comics she didn't!!! she was picked from the streets or found in the ruins of a castle or created in a lab (natasha has no clear origin story. that's her thing. "you will never know my full story etc etc") but what we do know is that she didn't think the red room was her family but her duty. and she was deeply traumatized which i will talk about later. she did feel love for people in the room and later for people in the KGB. she married alexei even (who they made her father figure here? weird) but never did she entertain the idea she was safe ANYWHERE.

which takes me to Yelena. now, i get that they need to have a heavy quipper. but GOD. she needed to stop. yelena is younger than natasha and way more carefree and naive (at least in that period of her life) but here she just felt... childish. she was meant to replace Natasha. she saw her as competition. and Natasha thought she was a real threat for her (she never thought of her as a sister. maybe as a victim like her but not as a sister) (which the comics are changing up BECAUSE OF THIS STUPID FUCKING MOVIE) this is literally vanilla flavored Yelena. how do you make the white widow boring get help.

something else that bothered me was the obedience chemicals thing. it feels so lazy, in a way, to pretend that all you need to bend someone's will is a serum and all you need to make someone to realize this is another serum. you could explore how trauma affects women, how being treated as objects can be incredibly damaging to the sense of self, how hard it must be for these women to think of themselves as free. but no. it's all the magic serum. Natasha spent most of her time in comics dealing with her past and her trauma. i get nothing from this movie. also, the widow program did use a bunch of scifi magic science, but the main focus was on how these girls were raised by the room and how loyal they were to it because they thought they were serving their government and saving their home. and because that was all the ever knew (just like Natasha). they weren't making black widows in this movie, they were making winter soldiers (yeah Natasha trained with Bucky but their situations while working for the Soviet union were very different). it's obvious they just wanted to make tem mindless killers because they couldn't imagine that other countries use their patriotism like the us does and turn people into weapons under the pretense of defending their government. it just sucks to take the agency away from the widows. when they stepped out of the KGB, they did it voluntarily, and it was a process. some of them didn't even leave and became trainers of the next generation.

I just think that this movie could be something if it was its own thing. but it's not. it's a rip off of comic names and concepts treated in the most boring and predictable way. and this is no black widow movie, these aren't black widow characters, this isn't natasha romanoff's story. it's natalie rushmore's

[shadowsfiguresfigments-blog]

A good place to die Chapter 26 (smut)

Warning: Harsh language, violence, smut

He was all over me, literally. Whilst he kept my lips and tongue busy with his, his hands roamed across my body, gently caressing every square inch of it. The last tattered remains of my clothes fell off, but his silken gloves kept me warm against the cold air. I sucked on his lower lip to encourage him further, and in response he leaned into me. The sensation of his touch multiplied, and during a breath pause to draw breath I opened my eyes. Penny had sprouted another two pairs of arms, giving him a slightly spider-like appearance.

Whilst he played with my hair, he simultaneously worjed my erect nipples, kneading them; pinching them just enough to illicit a sweet stinging pain. And all the while his hands wandered down further, along my hips, in between my thighs. I pressed harder against him, the familiar desperate yearning overcoming any sense of self-control I had left. There needn’t be any more barriers between us, nothing to separate us – I had been inside him, literally, for fuck’s sake – and I tore at his clothes, fighting against the last veil of silk that stood between us.

His chuckle was barely audible, more of a deep rumble that went through his body right into mine. The hands in my hair disappeared and the pressure against me lessened, but before I could protest his fingers slipped inside me. My insides clamped down on him in an unconscious effort to pull him further along, and their effort was rewarded; Penny’s finger went deeper and deeper into me, as if they were growing in length. The weirdest sensation filled my stomach – his gloves, he must have popped his gloves – and a heartbeat later he touched that sweet, sweet spot.

I screamed as the orgasm hit me like a sledge hammer, but Penny was nowhere near done. His body pressed back against mine, finally rid of clothes and all decency, and he held me so tight I was no longer able to breathe properly. He was still mercilessly working my pussy, but another hand made its way between my ass cheeks. I briefly and very feebly thought about protesting, but in response he pressed against my G-spot again. Whether it was because I was dripping wet or by some transformation of his, his fingers quickly spread some hot liquid around my asshole. Then he inserted one.

One moment, there was the sensation of having soiled myself; then he pushed through the barrier and there was some pain. It didn’t last long, though, as having him inside both front and back quickly overwhelmed me. Still, it wasn’t enough for him. His tongue swelled up, almost forcing my jaws apart, and picked up the rhythm of his fingers as it thrust deeper and deeper into me. As he had swallowed me whole, enveloping me completely, he now filled my up with himself in every way possible. I no longer could feel any ending to my body, nor the beginning of his; all of my senses were filled with him alone.

Again, there was a brief pause as he withdrew his fingers from my pussy, then he shoved his dick into me. I came immediately, and this time it lasted. Wave after wave hit me, eroding my sense of self further and further. Something was different from all the times we had had sex before – something inside me had changed. It resonated with Penny in a way that was difficult to understand – like two sound waves with just the right frequency to suddenly amplify each other.

That resonance almost tore me apart, and I screamed on the top of my lungs as Penny shuddered and came.

The following week was entirely governed by the last minute preparations for both Bee’s return as well as the store opening, which would coincide. With Auntie’s help I fought my way through the rooms and seemingly unending layers of garbage and dirt. Thankfully Bee had already declared her intentions to renovate the whole apartment by herself, and she had spent countless hours picking colors and some new furniture from catalogs. The little insurance money she got wouldn’t allow for much more, but her DIY-attitude had significantly improved over the last days. We just made sure the dirt was gone and that the facilities worked; which they did. Still, by the time I was done every evening I did little more than hit the shower and fall into bed.

Penny found his own way to keep me company – he usually waited in my room, made good use of the phone I had gotten him, and occasionally accompanied me on my ways in the form of a big orange tabby. At night he would cradle me in his arms, making our fight seem like nothing more than a bad dream.

I didn’t have the energy to discuss it any further, either; nor could I bring myself to tell him I still felt rather overwhelmed by the sex we had had. It was a weird, uncomfortable balance that I just couldn’t deal with.

He had carried me home that night, wrapped into silk-like sheets he had miraculously produced, and he had washed me in our tiny shower. I was still entirely beside myself – I didn’t even spend a thought on auntie – and just stood there as he rinsed away his cum that poured out of my body.

He even tucked me into bed.

When the big day finally arrived, I was too tired to feel the least bit excited. I almost fell asleep twice during school, but fortunately no one noticed. It was Friday, and I was excused for the last lesson (P.E.), so I got to leave early. That also meant there was no chance of any potential bully waiting for me, and I didn’t bother checking my bike for any manipulations, as there hadn’t been any for quite a while. Of course, that didn’t turn out too well – somebody had opened the valves of my tires, and by the time I got to the shop, there was no air left in them. I didn’t care, though, as I had to prepare the little buffet auntie had organized for me (nothing major, just some tea and coffee, and some cupcakes she had surprised me with in the morning). After I finished that, I went through the registry and my documents for the last time, in a desperate attempt to not think about Penny and focus on the task at hand.

A quick glance at my watch told me that I had about fifteen minutes left before the official opening hours started. I briefly wondered whether anyone would show up at all – Auntie and I had invested in some flyers, and we had distributed them both at her working place as well as my school. I had also thrown the remaining ones into random mail boxes on my various ways. Despite that, my reputation might very well end up keeping any potential customer from actually seeking the store – my store, I reminded myself – out.

For the first time in a long while I thought back to Yaneesha, Shot and the other idiots that despised me so much. The reason for their unwavering hate was still very much of a mystery to me, but I couldn’t bring myself to wish them harm. After all, they had ultimately suffered bigger losses than I did, and ever since Yaneesha had left school, I hadn’t been physically attacked anymore.

At least not by humans.

I sighed and unlocked the doors.

To my big surprise a couple of people entered while I was putting out the huge board I had painted. They roamed around the shelves, and a tiny silver-hair lady even told me how happy she was that the store was open again. I vaguely remembered her face and came to the conclusion that she was one of the very few somewhat regular visitors. Didn’t she have a fondness for novels? I directed her towards some new arrivals, which prompted my first successful sale.

It was somewhat difficult to believe, and the whole situation felt unreal. Something about the ordinariness was quite at odds with the crazy circus my life had become. I answered questions, recommended books, and made a couple of other sales. It wasn’t much, but still a whole lot more than what I’d expected – nothing.

Auntie joined me after I had been open for ninety minutes, and I could tell how tired she was. We both forced smiles, and despite my best efforts, she insisted on staying with me, though her face grew paler by the minute. Just when I had convinced her to sit down and stop fussing, her face lit up with recognition.

“Oh, you didn’t tell me he was coming. How nice!”

I whirled around just to see Benny-Penny standing outside the store, a red balloon on a string in his hands. For some reason that really touched me – I was just glad auntie sat behind me, so she couldn’t see the stupid smile spreading across my face. I rushed out and grasped his hands.

“I’m so glad you’re here”, I gushed. “I can’t believe you’re willing to go through this… Are you okay?”

He nodded, a familiar twinkle in his eyes, and handed me the balloon. It even read “Congratulations” on it. After quickly wiping my eyes I ushered him inside, ignoring the weird vibrations that built up in my stomach.

Penny looked utterly out of place, a wonderful mixture of awkwardness and otherworldly beauty that was just a tick off – probably not enough for anyone to realize but enough to cause the other visitors to show signs of unease. It was almost comical – a guy in a rather fancy suit started fiddling with his tie, a young girl put her jacket back on, and a group of teens moved closer together. Despite the fact that it wasn’t a good thing unnerve the people who I was supposed to sell to, it was still entertaining to observe. And I couldn’t help myself but marvel at his human form; the way his muscles visibly moved beneath the thin, tight sweater he was wearing; the way that ass looked in that pair of jeans; the way his movements were still the same as in his clown form.

I quickly went into the back room and tied the balloon to my backpack, not wanting to leave Penny alone for too long; but by the time I had returned he sat beside auntie and they chatted away merrily. He laughed – that wonderful, over-the-top crazy laugh of his, and shook his head. Auntie smiled, said something and started chuckling. For a moment she looked much younger, the stress lines fading, and my heart started hurting again.

How I wished I could see her like that every day.

I joined them, but I admittedly didn’t pay much attention, nor contribute much to the conversation – I was just content to see auntie and Benny-Penny happy. My odd behavior wasn’t noticed, though; Benny told one joke after another, and soon, my costumers had circled around us, joining in on the laughs. From time to time I could have sworn I saw a glint of something in Benny’s eyes, but it always disappeared so quickly I couldn’t be sure.

It was a rather pleasant experience to have him around. Time flew by quickly, and making sales felt like something I did on the side whilst I was mainly focusing on Benny. Finally the last pulk of people left the store, and I waved after them. Auntie stood up and started cleaning the buffet table; throwing away crumbled napkins and stacking plates. I offered to help, but she refused me; so I started counting the money I had made. When she left to bring the plates upstairs to the apartment, I dropped all pretence and threw myself into Benny’s arms.

“Thank you for coming”, I whispered, somewhat at a loss at how to convey the deep gratitude I felt.

He just patted my head, but I could feel how exhausted he was. I understood all too well – being around other humans and having to act normally was difficult enough for me, and I was part of their race. I reached up and cradled his cheek in my hand.

“I will make this up to you, I promise.”

Benny’s head shot up so fast I didn’t realize he had moved for a second.

Something was wrong.

His face had become devoid of emotion, the smile that had just been there completely gone, and there was an orange hue in his eyes. He stood utterly still.

“What’s the matter?”

“One of them is coming closer.”

“Who?”

“One of them.”

It took me a second to put his words and his behavior together.

“You mean… the ones that hurt you?”

He nodded, his eyes turning ever more orange. I took his hands and pulled him around to face me.

“Listen, if you need to get out of here, go. But I don’t think you’re in danger – you look like a human, you’re in a fucking bookstore, and besides, I’m not going to let anyone hurt you, okay?” That had absolutely no effect whatsoever. He was still as tense as before. “Penny, I promise, you’re safe.”

He slowly lowered his eyes, exhaling loudly. Not even a second later, he tensed up again. This time, he was watching someone outside. I turned around and saw two young men walking down the street. They held brown paper bags and yelled loudly, pushing each other constantly. My somewhat rusty instinct for bad situations told me they were trouble.

“They want to trash your shop.”

I didn’t even question him; I was too focused on the fact that they had changed direction and were now clearly walking up to us.

“I won’t allow that.” I reached into my pocket for my phone, with every intention to call the cops, but this time, Penny grabbed my hands. He had the weirdest little smile, and his left eye started drifting to the side. For some reason, I got goosebumps. I could only watch as he left me and stood in front of the duo. They shouted something, he replied, and the three of them walked away.

What was I supposed to do? I still had my phone in my hand, and I contemplated dialing 911. But what should I say? That I had possibly evaded big trouble? That my killer clown boyfriend had just left with the troublemakers and they’d better start searching for the leftovers, if there would be any? And that Pennywise might be in danger? Hello officer, you know, there’s this creature that kills and feeds on humans, and I love him very much, and he got spooked, so could you please start an investigation, and by the way, clean up after him?

“Where’d he go?”

Auntie had come back to me and looked out the door. I shook my head, gathering my jumbled thoughts.

“Oh, his mom called, he’s supposed to help her with something.”

“It was nice of him to stop by.”

“Yeah, very nice.” I still stared at the corner around which they had disappeared, as if I could make my gaze bend around it to follow them and make sure everything was okay.

“Is everything alright? Did you quarrel?”

“Oh no, I guess I’m just… a little overwhelmed with everything.” My attempt at a reassuring smile was bad at best, but somehow auntie bought it.

“Oh well, it’s been some hectic weeks for both of us.”

I nodded. A quick glance at my phone told me it was time to close down. That, thankfully, wouldn’t take long. However, there was still-

“Look who’s come!”

For the second time that day, a very welcome visitor approached the store. This time it wasn’t my favorite alien killer clown, it was Bee; with a large suitcase in hand and a warm smile on her face.

[halfway-happyyy]

I've been losing my mind working at a mall on a stand type of thing all by myself and was wondering if you could write a nice piece of Alex coming over to help me spend the time after I text him something like "Please come save me, this is so boring." which leads to him flirting with me and maybe taking me to his place for some good time. 😏 All help to spend my shift entertained is so very welcomed. 😂 Also, love your writing to bits and you're my favourite writer in a long time. ❤

hello friend! thanks for requesting! changed this up a little bit, hope ya don’t mind. it is under a cut because it’s a little long and spicy. tw: oral sex

“I have something to tell you,”

Disappointment dripped from his tone even over the crackle of the telephone wire and she knew immediately what he was about to tell her.

“I won’t be home for Christmas this year, kid.”

She let the silence take shape around them, took a hearty sip of her wine while she counted the seconds in between and then simply said, “Okay, Alex.”

“I tried to figure out a way to get away from set for a few days and it’s just… it’s not in the cards this year. I’m sorry, my love.”

She had never once faulted him for this. How could she? Acting- working, was something that came as naturally to him as breathing and so it was something that she accepted when they decided to give this thing a proper go. She just wasn’t always happy about it. “Don’t apologize, Alex. I’ll see you in a few weeks. I’m sure there will be mountains of leftovers for you, so we can have our own dinner when you get here.”

An audible sigh of relief on the other end. “Have I told you yet today?”

Her face broke into a wide grin and she shook her head. “Nope.”

“I love you endlessly, kid.”

God, just hearing those five words never got old.

“I love you too, Alex.”

~

Old man Winter had taken her city by storm, and a healthy heaping of fresh snow covered nearly every surface in sight. As the coffee machine in the corner of the café spluttered to life- the familiar first sounds of a day on the verge of starting, she watched the world outside her small window rouse from its stillness. It never really went to sleep, but there were moments that the noise dwindled to a low hum and she found something satisfying in watching it resume its natural cacophony. Her eyes fell shut as she inhaled the tantalizing aroma of freshly ground coffee beans and the croissants baking in the oven and she turned the corner to the back room to marvel at her baker Cait, as she rolled out the second batch of bread dough for the day. An apprentice baker at the tender age of twenty-two, and already inexplicably talented, she had been a total godsend to her team, and she smiled at the thought of it.

“Good morning, Cait. Coffee’s ready when you are.”

Her baker glanced up from her ministrations, traces of flour dusted her forehead and the side of her cheek and she beamed happily. “Sounds good boss. I’m just about finished with this run.”

Nodding her head, she ducked out of the back room, returning to the front so that she could finish putting the last tray of fresh butter tarts into the front showcase. Dusting her hands on her apron, she surveyed the café one last time before heading to the front window to flip around the closed sign. She stood for a moment to watch fat snowflakes fall in droves from the steel-grey sky and wondered how busy the shop could possibly be with weather like that. The timer on the oven sounded the end of the croissants baking time, and she walked the short distance to the rational where she pulled on a pair of mitts and took them out, placing them on the silver rack next to her. Tossing the mitts on top of the rack, she took the liberty of making Cait’s coffee the way that she knew she liked it and brought it into the back room for her.

“Think it’s going to be busy today?” Cait asked, with a sigh.

She glanced up at the calendar above their heads and frowned. Sunday before Christmas. “Hard to tell. But I hope so,” She had been about to say something else, but the familiar tinkle of bells above the front door rang out signaling the arrival of a customer. Taking a healthy sip of the delicious amber liquid, she excused herself to attend to their first patron of the day. Rounding the corner into the café, her breath hitched in her throat when she caught sight of Alexander’s figure in the doorway; head down and brushing flakes of snow from the sleeves of his navy pea coat. When he was finished, he lifted his gaze to hers and smiled. “Hi, kid.”

She untied the apron around her stomach and threw it onto the hook next to her, closing the gap between them in seconds. Reaching up on tiptoes, she wrapped her arms around his neck, inhaling his familiar scent. “You’re here,” She murmured, breathlessly.

He rubbed reassuring circles into her back and nodded his head. “Surprise.”

They stayed embraced for a long while, each reveling in the feeling of being home in one another’s arms.

“Can I get you anything?” She asked, eventually.

“Yes, coffee please. It was an early morning.”

She reached up to press a kiss to his stubbled cheek and excused herself to make his coffee. “Anything else?” She called out.

He cocked his head to the side; a simpering look tugged the edges of his lips upward and she could not ignore the mischievous glint in his blue eyes, or the way that it caused goosebumps to bloom over her arms. “Yes, actually. I was wondering if you’d like to come home with me.”

Her eyes widened and she elicited a breathless laugh. “Come home with you? Right now?”

Alexander nodded his head finitely. “Yes, right this very minute.”

She had been about to protest, but Cait cleared her throat from behind her and stepped forward, her voice low. “Henry just pulled in out back. Go enjoy yourself.”

“What about the shop? What if it gets busy?”

Cait resisted the urge to roll her hazel eyes, and instead shrugged her shoulders. “We can handle it. Go on.”

Alexander lifted his coffee in cheers and tossed a wink her way. “Thanks, Cait.”

~

Their walk home had been silent save for the muted crunch of snow beneath their boots. There had been a lot of things that she wanted to ask him, a lot that she wanted to say to him, but she found she was content just to have him beside her, to have the warmth of his hand envelop her own. They had managed to make it home before the snow started getting really bad, and she was beyond grateful to have the rest of the day with him. Discarding their winter attire in the front hall closet, he led her by hand to their bedroom at the end of the hall where he entered and took a seat at the edge of the bed. “I’ve missed you kid,” He mused. She closed the gap between them to stand between his parted thighs and cradled his head in her hands. His arms encircled her waist, and he pressed a series of gentle kisses to her clothed chest.

“I’ve missed you too, Alex.”

He pulled away to gaze up at her, his glassy blue orbs alight with a fire she had come to recognize well. She could lose herself for hours in those eyes if she wanted to; flecks of gold in whirlpools of azure, they were her favourite physical feature of his.

Alexander pushed a stray whisp of hair behind her ear, sighing contedly. “What is that breathtaking mind of yours thinking of, hm?” He murmured.

She traced a featherlight fingertip from his temple down to the chiseled line of his jaw. “Nothing you haven’t heard before.”

Alexander brought her hand to his lips and kissed the palm of it, tenderly. “Undress for me?”

She stepped back against the wall to do as she was asked, toying with the hem of her t shirt as she did so. She lifted it up past her abdomen, over her neck, and dropped it to the hardwood floor beneath her. Unzipping her jeans, she shimmied out of the constricting denim and watched it pool around her feet. She noticed the erection growing steadily in the crotch of her lover’s own jeans and she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth at the mere thought of it. Reaching around her back for the clasp on her bra, she undid that too and let the flimsy fabric fall to the ground, gathering with the rest of the discarded clothing. Taking a steadying breath, she pulled the panties from her legs and kicked them to the side, now entirely naked before him. Alexander cleared his throat and rose from the bed, only to drop to his knees, fully clothed, before her. His arms circled her hips as he placed hot, open-mouthed kisses to her lower belly. Sucking two fingers into his mouth, he got them slick with his spit, and teased them at her wet entrance. Quivering with unbridled anticipation above him, the weight of what was about to happen, was not at all lost on her as he pressed fiery kisses to the tops of her thighs and hipbones. Wordlessly, he had her lift her leg over his shoulder as he bent forward to lick a long, wet stripe up her slit. Stopping at the sensitive bundle of nerves at the top, he pressed warm, wet circles into it and was rewarded with a long, low groan from the base of her throat.

“Just like that, Alex…” She gasped.

He nodded against her. “I’ve got you, kid.”

Pressing a kiss to her clit, he repeated the kitten-lick up her core, earning him another loud, breathy moan. Pulling away from her, he blew a steady stream of cool air over her heated center, grinning at how her body sang for him. “You’re not going to last long, baby girl.”

She tilted her back against the wall, fingers finding purchase in the locks of hair that had grown tenfold since she had last laid eyes on him. She began to massage his head methodically, which caused him to groan longingly against her, the vibrations sending shockwaves of white-hot pleasure straight to the center of her clit. Licking long, firm stripes up her core with the flat of his tongue he eventually began to fuck her with it, causing her to tremble violently above him.

“Don’t stop…” Her voice wavered warningly, as she ground herself against his face. Alexander listened to her words and to the exact way in which her body responded to his care and kept up the rhythm in which he was eating her out. Her orgasm began to build like a fire in the pit of her belly, the familiar coil of nerves wound unbearably tight and ready to unravel at a moment’s notice. “Oh, god…” Alexander gripped her hips in his hands, his fingernails leaving miniscule crescent-shaped indentations in the soft skin there. He alternated between fucking her with his tongue, and suckling at her clit, grazing his teeth along the sensitive bundle of nerves as he did so. She arched her back against his mouth, reveling in the extra sensation of his stubbled jaw against the velvety skin of her inner thighs. “Oh god, Alex- He groaned and nodded against her tight, wet core, coaxing the looming release from her. She stilled against his face, arching her back high against the wall as her orgasm ripped through her like a blaze out of control. She shivered against him as he continued to lap up every ounce of honey she had to offer him and when she had recovered for the most part, he placed open-mouthed kisses to her clit and rose off his knees, to tower above her. His eyes- though still the same hue of blue they were before he had gifted her with her orgasm, were now nearly black, his pupils dilated and blown over with lust. “I want you to come for me now,” She murmured, voice entirely wrecked for the time being. She peeled Alexander’s shirt from his body, throwing it next to the pile of her own discarded clothing. Unzipping his jeans, she pulled the useless material from his toned legs and tossed them off to the side. Glancing up, she noticed the head of his erect cock straining hard against the fabric of his sky-blue boxer briefs, had begun to leak pre-come, leaving a small, wet circle in the thin fabric. Her mouth watered hungrily at the memory of how it tasted, as she hooked two fingertips into the waistband of his underwear and smirked up at him. She teased the boxers down his thighs, his hard cock springing free from the all-consuming material. She watched a bead of pre-come glisten at the head- the urge to lap it up was almost unbearable.

“Go on, baby…” Alexander murmured. She took him into her hands, grasping him firmly, and licked a long stripe up from the base of his cock to the head, reveling in salty brininess of the fluid gathered at the head of his cock. She couldn’t resist taking more of him into her mouth, and she did until she felt him at the base of her throat. He groaned loudly and pushed a little farther in, causing tears to spring up in the depths of her eyes. “Fuck,” He groaned loudly. “Always taking this cock so fucking well, baby girl… every inch I have to give you,” He pulled out of the hot wetness of her mouth and jutted his chin out toward the bed. “On the bed, babe…” She passed the back of her hand over her mouth and rose from her feet to do as she was told. Falling back against the down pillows breathlessly, she watched with a hooded gaze as Alexander clambered onto the bed before her. He crawled up over her body so that he was straddling her chest and took his cock into his hand. “I know how much you love watching me touch myself.” He began to move a tight fist up and down the length of himself, tossing his head back each time he passed over a particularly sensitive spot. “Fuck,” He breathed out.

She watched a bead of pre-come roll down the underside of his shaft, and swallowed hard. “I want another taste,”

Alexander swiped a fingertip beneath his head to collect some of the moisture there and held it out for her to lick off, which she did happily. Sucking his fingertip into her mouth, he let her keep it there while he worked his fist harder down the length of his cock. “Jesus,” He gasped under his breath. “I’m close, baby…”

“Come for me, Alex… make a mess.”

Her pleas seemed to spur his orgasm on, and he dropped his head back as a low, desperate groan ripped from the base of his throat. His fist stilled against his sensitive head as he tumbled over the edge in violent waves, coating her breasts in his warm, opaque fluid. “Fuck,” He sighed after a few moments of trying to regulate his breathing. He lifted himself from her and off the bed, disappearing into their on-suite bathroom in search of a towel to clean her off. Approaching her, he wiped the towel gently over her chest and cleaned her off as best as he could. Sidling down into bed beside her, he gathered her hand in his and brought it to his lips.

“Thanks for surprising me and rescuing me from work today, Alex.” She yawned, softly.

He kissed her tenderly. “Any damn day, kid. Merry Christmas.”

🤶🎄🎅🎁

[omegangrins]

A Rant on the End of Tremors 7: Shrieker Island

As the main man said,

Throwing caution to the wind because this blew up elsewhere.

If you can do it with Justice League, fuck it, let's do it for every shitty movie we've got.

While we're at it, can we change the ending of the 7th Tremors movie so *MAJOR FUCKING SPOILERS* Burt Gummer doesn't die or at least bring Jamie Kennedy back, or Marvel style recast Jon Heder, so he dies saving his son instead of a random-ass person who could have easily saved themselves. Or cut the forced montage of Burt clips at the end so his death is at least ambiguous. Seriously beyond pissed about that one. THAT is no way for him to go.

I would also like to point out that the next Tremors *HAS* to be titled Tremors 8: Ouroboros and bring everyone back for Burt's funeral . Otherwise, what's the fucking point?

I have feelings about it, people. *FEELINGS!!!*

One of my favourite childhood memories is picking out Tremors 2 from the local gas station's movie rentals and forcing my parents to watch it. I was probably 5-6 at the time.

Let's say that it's been a lifelong love affair ever since. It took me another 10 years before I even watched the 1st. Probably why I hold good sequels in such high regard.

I didn't even know about the 1st until it played as a trailer in front of 2 and never thought to watch until years later. That's a testament to its filmmaking if I ever knew one.

So seriously, that's how they chose to kill off one of the most well known and prolific characters in a movie/TV series known around the globe? With an unnecessaryily needed death and a montage of clips from all the other movies that are obviously better than this one.

And I'm saying that as someone who defends Chibnall/13th Doctor...

...and I'm fucking fuming because THIS is how you *actually* destroy something people love and hold dear to their hearts. It's like the ending of Game of Thrones. His shitty ass death has made it a loooooot harder to rewatch. And they are one of my favourite series!!! Not flawless but fun. But I will defend every other movie and all the episodes except this. Honestly I'll still defend 7/8ths of this one as well.

Like I said, it's easily fixed too. Fucking vice versa swap out Jon Heder for Jamie Kennedy, who the movies have been building up for the last two, and have Burt save his son in front of his old flame. Boom, you won't even need the montage of clips cause you can just have Travis and his mom reminisce about Burt instead. Show not tell. I don't even care he died by Graboid (although in all honesty, I've allways wanted El Blanco to take him down or Burt kills himself from the PTSD. It would have AT LEAST MADE SENSE. Hell, the best would be a heart attack to callback Val's "Yeah, Burt, the way you worry, you're gonna have a heart attack before you get a chance to survive World War Three.". But none of us ever get the best death.). And it's not even about Burt sacrificing himself to save a nobody. Cause that could work too. BUT YOU NEED TO BUILD THAT SHIT UP. Not just fucking drop it like it's hot.

Like I said too, the first 7/8ths ain't bad but it's an entirely different story than a swansong for a hero.

It's all about some billionaire scientist/cowboy hunter dude who likes to get his jollies off hunting the biggest and the baddest who ends up inviting people to this island so they can hunt down Super-Graboids he designed for shits and giggles. But then some Shrieker-fy....

And the pretentious douches come and die one by beautiful one while Burt tries to save them anyway and it's all spectacularly dumb fun until it comes crashing down in the final 10 minutes. Fuck, they should just cut the last 10 minutes. Then it's a perfect little Tremors ditty.

#RELEASETHE7THTREMORSWITH10MINUTESFROMTHEENDCUT

This isn't even about Jon Heder either. He's just doing his job. Hell, do what /u/VoiceofRonHoward pointed out.

"It is clear that Jon's character was just pasted in over Jamie's, the artifacts of the father-son relationship are all over it. They should have gone full Marvel and just replaced Jamie with Jon and acted like nothing happened."

CAUSE FUCK YES!! The only time a story sucks is when they don't commit. Commitment makes all the difference. Now, I'm pissed double-pissed they didn't do that instead since Heder and Kennedy are similar in terms of white-boy-ness.

Even Michael Gross agrees:

"Yes, yes. Now I can't presume to speak for Jamie [Kennedy]. My understanding was they asked him and he said no. And so that's why they went with somebody else. So I had nothing to do with that decision. I just heard the stories. I missed him for that reason. You begin a relationship with the character, and you want to continue it....

...As you build a relationship with this son, we had two, it would've been nice to have three, but that was the hand I was dealt."

One of my favourite bits of Tremors lore comes from the 5th too so it's not like I hate sequel changes out of hand:

"This is a warrior dance. Our ancestors hunting the lnkanyamba and the Impundulu.

"What's that?

"Impundulu. It's what you call the Ass Blaster.

"Ass Blaster.

"Yes.

"Yes.

"Hey, you know, you make Ass Blaster sound good.

Primitive cultures fighting Graboids, Shriekers and Assblasters. I just love that thought.

Hilariously, my meta opening to the 8th movie would be a flashback to 10,000 years ago and a Neanderthal-like Burt Gummer teaching others how to drive Graboids off cliffs like they did with mammoths.

Thank you for giving me the space to rant. Cause fuuuuuuhhhhhhhhuuccck!!!

Here's Michael Gross' own words from his AMA that prove the people making Shrieker Island didn't know their shit.

"The Tremors series is one very close to my heart and I want you to know how appreciated your continued effort is for your core fan base.

My only question would be were there ever any studio decisions made for Burt that you refused to comply with? Or was everybody pretty much always on the same page on what to do with the character?

Thanks again for your dedication.

- Josh"

"Thanks for the kind words, Josh. As regards the first four films, with Wilson and Maddock as the writers, we were very much on the same page. 5,6, and 7 were a bit different, because there was a 13-year hiatus between 4 and 5, and we had to refresh our memories while "reinventing" the franchise for a new audience. I will give you one example: in an early draft of Shrieker Island, a new writer wrote a draft where Burt threatened to shoot one of the bad dudes, and I had to tell him—this is true—"Burt never intentionally points his gun at another human being."

And his own thoughts on Burt's "death" and how to bring it all back together again.

Universal and the director [came] to me with this idea, and they said, 'This could be emotionally very powerful, if we have to say goodbye to this man after 30 years. And I hemmed and hawed, and I thought about it a little bit. And I said, 'You're absolutely right about the emotional gut punch this can be.' And I said, 'You're going to hurt a lot of people's feelings.' And I said, 'But I thought this franchise was over after four. So I could certainly live with it being over after seven.'

"What we negotiated -- well, it wasn't really a negotiation, we all agreed on this -- is that we kind of left the door open. >!Because although Burt is gone, we never see a corpse. We never see his remains. Everybody assumes he's gone. Is he buried somewhere? Is he unconscious somewhere? We never see Burt dead. We see Burt gone. We see Burt not returning. What does that mean? Has he been knocked out? Does he have amnesia somewhere? Does he wander off? Is he in a kind of coma? So yes, the way it ends is pretty profound."

"As regards to the end of Tremors 7, let me just say that while people ASSUME Burt is gone, we never see his remains, do we? Just sayin.'

"The only reason he has become the main character is that everyone else in the original cast moved on to other things. I NEVER thought of him as the central figure, but it just worked out that Michael Gross, like Burt Gummer, was a "survivor." :0) "

"No one would like to see it more than I!!! One of my greatest regrets is that so many other cast members fell away over time. Reba was on to other things, Kevin said no to a second, Fred said no to a third. I would LOVE one last go with all of them, but it is not up to me. :0( "

"There are no guarantees, but for those who wonder aloud if this is the final film, I will say what I have said before: SALES drive sequels, Show biz is 5% show and 95% business, so if this latest addition to the Tremors franchise, sells well, [Universal] will follow the money, and Universal Pictures Home Entertainment may will be back for more."

/u/ActorMichaelGross, the bell has been rung and the song sung. Get the producers on this ASAP!!

I was also the first person to discover the symbolic foreshadowing of Stumpy's end with Earl's sleeping bag in the original movie.

Let's just say, I really *really* love these movies. So if anyone knows anyone, hook me up to the producers of this series and I'll Justin Lin in the Fast and Furious out of this shit.

Since I don't think it's good to critique without proposing either, I say we can make up for this fuck up with the next movie. We'll call it Tremors 8: Ouroboros. After the snake which eats its own tail.

We find out Burt faked his death to get the Proudfoot Corporation to let down their guard and when everyone from the previous series comes back for Burt's fake funeral they give him ever loving shit for being such a paranoid whack-job that he would fake his death to fool a government agency. Why would he do this? He found an old photo of Hiram Gummer with a Graboid warning on the back and asks himself why this valley, why these things, why allways me? And we find out, it's not Burt. It's that lifestyles of extremes will end up in places of extremes. Burt and the Graboids are survivors of different species. Sure the Proudfoot Corporation IS using Mixmaster to combine Graboids, Shriekers, and Ass-Blasters into one super creature for the military but it pales in comparison to Burt looking at his life and wondering in shame how many ancient giants like himself he has killed. And with that, he actually dies, and we keep the ball rolling with the rest of the characters trying to stop what they allways thought was just another one of Burt's crazy conspiracies.

That's why it's Ouroboros. Everything comes back around. We could end/start the movie with Grady, Earl, and Jodi opening a Monster World in Perfection Valley a la Desert Jack's Graboid Adventure. I don't know. I'm fucking trying harder than the people they paid to do this already.

It ain't perfect but I'm building on sand here so changes are gonna get made.

Like if the makers of Tremors notice this,

Then DM me because fucking A you guys need some help.

[ahgaseda]

two can keep a secret || chapter 01

⇥ synopsis : when your father reveals his intention to remarry, you find an unlikely confidant in Mark, your soon-to-be stepbrother, but what began as a revenge fling ironically becomes far more complicated...

⇥ warnings : this story in its entirety includes but is not limited to strong language and dialogue, recurring alcohol and drug use, and explicit sexual content, and is intended for an adult audience only!

There was a steady knock on the bedroom door and you jolted to attention, burrowed under a fluffy comforter. Your wild mane of hair fell into your face as you turned toward the entry and covered your chest with the blanket, despite wearing an overgrown t-shirt.

Rather than step inside, your father had enough experience being the single parent to his daughter for many years to know better than to disturb your privacy. Instead, he shouted from the other side of the wall, “Are you awake?”

“I am now,” you retorted petulantly, running a hand through your hair.

“The wife-to-be and I are going to breakfast,” he told you. “Would you like to join us?”

There were times your father invited you along from a place of obligation, but then there were times like this when he genuinely wanted to give you an opportunity to spend some time with him and your future stepmother.

“No thanks, Pops,” you replied tiredly, eyes squinting at the dreaded light worming its way through the curtains. “I need more sleep.”

“Alright, well,” your father spoke with disappointment, though he didn’t sound entirely surprised. “Mark is dead to the world. Neither of us could get a word out of him. He must have been up until the crack of dawn. We’ll leave the two of you to get more beauty rest, okay?”

You almost smirked, given you were the one at fault for Mark’s exhaustion.

“Sounds good, Dad,” you replied, muffling your words against the pillow you crammed between your arms. “We will be sure to join you next time. Promise.”

You could practically feel him smiling despite the closed door between you.

“Sweet dreams, princess,” he said a moment later, then you heard his footsteps fading away down the hall.

You hummed a delayed reply and dove back under the covers, flopping lifelessly to the mattress and returning into the cocoon of a lazy Saturday morning sleep.

Not five minutes had passed when your bedroom door opened. You were half-asleep, nearly tumbling into a well-deserved dream when someone crawled onto your bed and pulled at the blankets surrounding you.

“I know you’re awake,” Mark murmured, bracing himself above you on his hands and knees.

“Mm,” you hummed, eyes closed as you hovered desperately close to sleep.

Mark lowered some of his weight on your body, lips immediately seeking out your neck to plant a few soft kisses.

“Let me sleep,” you whined under your breath.

“Let me fuck,” Mark retorted with a ravenous edge to his raspy morning voice.

Grumbling, you reminded, “I let you fuck last night.”

Mark slipped his arms under your shoulders, getting a solid hold of you and dragging you down the bed until your head slid from the pillows and onto the mattress. You bounced slightly, but the action did little to rouse you from your daze.

“And I got hard just thinking about it,” Mark confessed, snickering.

With a sigh, you murmured, “Just go slow.”

“I will,” Mark replied, pecking a gentle kiss at the corner of your mouth for letting him have his way.

Lashes fluttering, you hummed at the feel of him against you, reaching up to grab his arms as he balanced above you. When you felt his hard cock sliding against your clothed folds, you wanted to giggle. It had been less than twenty four hours since you last shared a passionate tryst with your future stepbrother and he had already come crawling back for more.

“Are you sore?” Mark asked against your neck, kissing a bruise he had made during the last romp.

You nodded slightly and sighed, “Very.”

Mark kissed a path to your jaw, doing his best to rile you up before he relieved his morning wood. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered darkly. “You are the most beautiful woman to ever take me.”

“You talk too much,” you teased, sinking your nails into his back.

Mark rose enough to pull his shirt up and over his head. You rubbed your palms up and down his chest and arms, marveling the sheer size and tone of his muscles. He was hard to the touch, firm and bulging, and you appreciated the strength he could use when he was between your legs.

Closing your eyes, you hummed softly in your throat as his hands roamed your body, palms sneaking beneath your shirt to settle on your breasts. When Mark had his fill of toying with your nipples, he traveled his caresses down your waist to grab your panties, pulling them free to be tossed somewhere across the room.

“I still don’t have any guilt,” you confessed when he brought his hands to the bends of your knees and pulled you apart for him.

Mark glanced up, noting your eyes were shut and he briefly watched the steady rise and fall of your chest. “They’re not married yet,” he replied quietly, lifting your legs until you clamped them on his hips.

By his tone, he had no intention of giving up this newfound relationship after the wedding, no matter how wrong - or dangerous - it would be.

You exhaled. Part of you knew when the anger and disappointment passed, the remorse would set in, but you were too reckless to care. Bitterness wrapped around your heart and refused to let go, because you resented your father for even entertaining the idea of marrying another woman.

It was disrespectful to your late mother, who had been taken from you before her time.

As it turned out, Mark bore the same level of bitter rage and the two of you had bonded over shared emotions and inner turmoil. Needless to say, the two of you had found some sort of camaraderie and spent many nights talking until the early hours of the morning when sleep finally stepped in. You also discovered that Mark could fuck most of the misery out of you and at the least, make you forget just how angry you were with an orgasm or two.

Breaking you from your reverie, Mark propped himself above you on hands and knees, pushing his length between your folds and slowly sinking forward. You tensed beneath him, sucking in a hard breath as you quickly felt the soreness earned the night before.

“Easy, baby,” you whimpered, pressing your fingertips to his muscled arms.

Mark groaned at the tight grip of your swollen cunt around him, but did as told, coaxing his member gently into your heat. “Fuck,” he choked out, rocking his hips into yours when he eased inside.

Sleep steadily lost its hold on you. Mark tucked his face to the crook of your neck and breathed heavily against your skin. You carded your fingers into his hair and let your other hand roam down his back, biting your lip to hold back a moan.

Mark teased his teeth over your neck before growling in your ear, “Good girl. Open up for me.”

You whimpered at his praise, locking your ankles behind his back. It was a stretch to accept him inside you so deep and no boy that had come before him ever filled you this full. Tugging your grip on his hair, you nipped at his ear and whispered, “Harder.”

Mark lifted slightly to look in your eyes, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip as he got a hold of your body beneath him and began smacking his hips into yours. You raked your nails down his chest, satisfied when little red lines were left in your wake.

His pace came faster and faster, and you let your head fall back, crying out, “There, Mark. Oh god.”

“Here?” he teased, his tongue lingering at the corner of his mouth.

Mark had decided that taking pleasure from your body was his new favorite drug of choice and coming inside you while you climaxed around him was his new favorite kind of high.

Your bedroom filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin. Your mattress squeaked and the headboard banged against the wall. But in the midst of it all, the only sound that had your attention was that of your slick cunt tightening each time his cock bottomed out.

“Mm, I make you so fucking wet, baby,” Mark growled, as if reading your mind.

You turned your head, grabbing a handful of the blanket and biting down on it to stifle your noises. Mark wasn’t too happy with that and sharply ripped the material from your mouth, pinning your hands on opposite sides of your head.

“I’m almost there,” he warned, a trickle of sweat running down his neck. “Come already.”

You were close and being so helplessly restrained in submission underneath him, you winched your eyes closed and moaned with every thrust of his hips. When he finally gave you release, your lips parted open in a silent scream and your thighs shook around his waist. Mark drilled into you even harder, spilling into you and groaning as your orgasm milked every drop of pleasure out of him.

You went limp on the mattress as the last of his release filled you, your chest heaving for breath. The headboard smacked against the wall one last time when Mark collapsed beside you, running a hand through his hair and groaning, “Goddamn.”

Glancing over, you chuckled. There was something undeniably satisfying about wearing Mark out. The night before, you had ridden him into oblivion and you swore the way his voice broke when he came was seared into your mind forever.

Having sex with your future stepbrother was supposed to be a one-time deal, purely from a place of vengeance and spite. That was until he and his mother moved in at your father’s invitation the day before. Mark had waited until the coast was clear to wrap his arms around your waist and whisper, “I can’t wait to be inside you again.”

Shivering at the memory, you looked to him once more, not the least surprised to see your lover was already drifting to sleep. You were tempted to play with his disheveled hair to help him get there even faster.

“Mark,” you called softly.

He turned his head, eyes expectant but clouded with exhaustion.

“They can never find out about this,” you said lowly, tone grave.

Mark nodded his agreement. Then he outstretched a fist toward you, his pinky finger held out.

You snorted at the gesture, but nevertheless you wrapped your little finger around his, sealing the promise to keep the biggest secret of your life.

chapter 01 ⇥ chapter 02

Hey there, beautiful! If you enjoyed this, please leave a like or reblog or follow me! Or maybe buy me a coffee so I can keep writing? Or check out my masterlist here for more stories! Thanks for reading :) - Katya

This work is fictional and for entertainment purposes only, but is licensed and protected under a creative commons attribution-noncommercial-noderivatives 4.0 international license. Any instances of plagiarism will be dealt with accordingly. Do not re-post or translate without my permission.

{ copyright 2018-2020 © ahgaseda // all rights reserved }

[soyouareandrewdobson]

Doing something for fun: RPGs about broken anuses.

As promised, after the abomination that was the Sam arc, I am now going to write random posts about more positive/fun things. However, I also decided to add a little twist to them and correlate them in some way thematically to Dobson. E.g. by reviewing a game/show that does all the things Dobson hates/obsesses about/or fails at right.

 And my first entry in that regard is related to a videogame that came out a couple of years ago, based on a tv show Dobson claims to hate. South Park: The fractured but whole.

 Seeing how the game is 3+ years old at this time and there have been tons of reviews & walkthroughs showing how good and fun the game is, I do not really want to cover the plot and all the things that make it great in detail. Lets just say you can really feel that Parker and Stone were heavily involved in the writing of the game, as it is filled to the brim with references to the show and the typical satirical humor of it, that in parts manages to cross the line even further for me than the show. Right from the start you get a very dark but smart social joke and commentary out of the way, when as you set up your characters looks and the difficulty of the game, it is the tone of your skin that decides how hard the game gets. Meaning if you play as a black person, you are having a very hard time. It is not too preachy, just an acknowledgment that yes, in American society, blacks can have it harder compared to white people. Especially when living in a town like South Park, where social standing is pretty low and the police force is inherently corrupt and racist, doing something so outrageously to black people, I do not want to spoil it. Let’s just say it ends in a better Lovecraft joke than any of the shit SJWs did in light of censoring Call of Cthulhu board rpgs.

The overall plot is simple: While last time the kids played fantasy and things escalated quickly as they do in South Park, this time they play superheroes, with two fractions having formed: Coon and Friends vs the Freedom Pals and things escalating just as quickly. What starts off as the hunt for a missing cat to earn a 100$ reward Cartman wants to use to start a multi billion dollar movie franchise just like Marvel, turns soon into the player and his friends having to fight a real crime conspiracy thought up by one of South Park’s most nefarious characters, which also involves genetic mutations, time travel and eldritch horrors. Thankfully you, the “New Kid” from the last game, even after losing all your previous powers thanks to no one playing fantasy anymore, gain new superhero powers, make friends with the South Park kids again and even learn new fart techniques by none other than Morgan Freeman, that help you out along the way. All while also slowly revealing more about your backstory hinted on in the previous game and the tragedy of your dad having had intercourse with your mother.

 Being a South Park and RPG fan for years, I wanted to play this game for quite some time, but only managed to do so recently. And even if I spoiled myself massively over time with cutscenes and major battles online, this game is still fun (thanks in part also to the fact I watched the cutscenes years ago and by now forgot a lot of them).  The turn based battle system is way more interesting than last time by also depending on you positioning the characters on the field in a strategy based RPG style, there are lots of classes to choose and powers to combine (I myself going for elementalist, assassin, plantmancer and blaster currently) and you have a ton of allies in the game. The original cast of the four main boys, Jimmy and Butters has expanded significantly in this game with characters such as SUPER CRAIG, Clyde as the blood sucking MOSQUITO, Token as TUPPERWARE and Wendy as the social media huntress CALL GIRL (yes, that is her name) and they all are fun to interact and play with, with each one having their own unique sets of moves and finishers once again. Even outside of the battle, thanks to the writing, there are always great lines from them to get when interacting or taking missions from them. I especially came to love Tweek and Craig, who are not just decent fighters (Tweek in particular is a great elementalist) , but in this game are also now a couple ever since that yaoi episode from South Park. Helping them reconcile after a bad break up over the course of the game just feels surprisingly nice, mostly because unlike other LGBT celebrating media out there (Korra and She Ra  e.g.) none of the characters crosses some sort of moral line where you question why they deserve to be together (Hello, Catra), it is not heavily handed garbage fishing for brownie points and it is obvious through dialogue and actions they care for each other, even if they are at first going through a bad break up as only South Park could ridiculously portray it.

 Overall, the game is also surprisingly “inclusive” and socially relevant without being preachy about it, if you ask me. From the aforementioned skin color thing, to LGBT representation via Tweek and Craig, the police being involved in a plot that especially nowadays is sadly more relevant than ever (mind you, I do not believe that in real life all cops are bad, but in my opinion bad eggs on both sides certainly led to the current situation in the US and that is all I say) to the fact you can over the course of the game decide not just if you are playing as a boy or a girl, but even something in-between, a cis-/transgendered person and decide your race, religion as well as to whom you are sexually attracted to. Granted, I barely see how it has any bearing on the game’s plot, but I appreciate the following things: a) the inclusion of the possibility to decide on those factors itself, making creating your character even more fun (a basic right others demand for certain games nowadays in all the wrong ways) and b) that the game does not make the biggest of deals about it. See, I am under the impression that often times the most progressive and inclusive thing is to just let the story and personality of a character speak for itself, instead of the fact that it also identifies by a specific gender, sexuality, race or other allignment. In fact focusing on those things on a character only is something I consider ”positive stereotyping”, which for me is just racism in the opposite direction. And if you no think I am going off track here and need to be beaten up by someone who genuinely has some grip on pc culture, don’t worry. This game features PC Principal actually doing an ok job teaching you about microaggressions in his typical PC Principal manner, which in itself becomes a relevant move in future battles and is hilarious to watch. Speaking of the new kid, putting things like your chance to gender identify yourself with it in more detail (which you can also adjust again later on in game if you feel like it) aside, for a silent protagonist he/she/it can have a nice level of debt to it, if you look too much into it.

 Not only does it have a funny backstory explaining its fart and social media powers, there are recurring scenes of the kid’s parents being on each others throat and the kid just silently eating dinner for the night that genuinely feel sad and create sympathy in our little FartLord to the point you just want the kid to go out there, have an adventure and hopefully find a way to change its parents for good, cause it is obvious they love the kiddo, but damn do they need to cut off the substance abuse.

 Storywise you get something out of this game that is way more entertaining and hilarious than the last two seasons of the show combined (FUCK the season of 2019) and game content wise you are also rewarded with a lot of shit, just for exploring the town. Be it you finding hidden yaoi fanart that earns you money, your allies helping you solve puzzles that reward you with exp and new costumes to further customize your outfit, making new friends on Coonstagram by taking selfies with all the major and minor characters of the town, helping Big Gay Al finding his missing cats, stumbling upon Memberberries, forging new artifacts to increase your strength, finding summons… all stuff that helps you not just gain exp and become stronger, but also makes you enjoy going through South Park outside of the main story content. In fact I spend a majority of my first twelve hours in this game only wrapping up the prologue missions and first two chapter of the game, while otherwise talking with as many people in town as possible, exploring the stores and houses, doing side missions etc. just for the fun of interacting with the characters and the world they are part of.

 Now, how does all of that relate to Dobson?

Well lets see…

 Game based on something he hates that has however rightfully more success than he ever deserves, with lots of political commentary and satire for years in its humor? Check.

 Game itself having more of that commentary done right then Dobson in his own comics and story attempts? Check

 LGBT representation via Tweek and Craig as well as Big Gay Al that does not feel too stereotypical despite Al himself being extremely stereotypical in design? Check

 Some pretty decent/hilarious female characters in the game once you know them? (again, Call Girl and Classi, who fucks the L out of the A-S-S) Check.

 Being a style of game he hates for no apparent reason, but executed well (RPGs)? Check

 Thematically focused on superheroes, a trend he is obsessed about, but here both appreciating while also poking good fun at common tropes of it and the marketing of the MCU, in doing so just highlighting how much of a mindless consumer Dobson is? Check

 Being a game where you can also play as any gender and race and its not turned into a “groundbreaking” industry changing feature pandering to minorities that in the eyes of corporations are just a market to exploit, not people? Check

 Heck, if Dobson was not a biased idiot, the game would be perfect for him. It even panders to his toilet fetish in videogames.

 Kid you not: a mini game in the game itself features the possibility to go to every toilet in town and shit in it. The process of defecation itself being a rhythm game and you earning exp from it once you took enough dumps. And considering Dobson once spend hours in Skyrim looking for outhouses, that sounds right up Dobson’s back alley.

 Bottom line, this game is fun. If you like South Park, superheroes and RPGs, this game is perfect for you. And seeing how it has been a few years since it came out, I think it should be possible to get a cheap copy of it somewhere. Go on, play it. But always remember: Never fart on another dude’s balls. It is just not the polite thing to do.