#Beginning Woodworking Projects | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

crescenthistory · 4 months ago

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PLSPLSPLSPLSPLSPLSPLSPLSPLS i've been ACHING to see you expand upon farmer!remus !!!! explain yourself mother, we all need to see a glimpse of him 😫

and of course, big congrats on getting 2k followers!! you deserve that and so much more

thank you so so much for your love darling, and THANK YOU for asking about my farmer!remus because i have been thinking about him constantly:,))

✶・•・✦・•・✶・✶・•・✦・•・✶

i will EXPLAIN farmer!remus

carina's 2k celebration

✶・•・✦・•・✶・✶・•・✦・•・✶

farmer!remus who was simply fed up with the wizarding world and all of its complexities and hostilities, so as soon as peace allowed him, he moved back home to cardiff and took over an aging great uncle's small farm

farmer!remus who always preferred the company of animals over those of humans because he did not risk being deceived or used by them

farmer!remus who is in turn universally loved by animals – they approach him and cuddle up against him without him needing to do anything at all, much to other's (faux) chagrin

farmer!remus who is awfully kind despite his reserved attitude, callouses and weathered, scarred face; the type of kindness that lights the candles of all he meets

farmer!remus who has the floo network set up in the hearth of his living room in the cabin-like farm house so that the few people he consider family can come and go as they please

farmer!remus whose found family love stopping by to help him during harvesting or birthing seasons, having it be made into a big bonding event

farmer!remus who revels in the peace he can find only at his farm, but who also risks isolating himself too much (which the marauders remind him of)

farmer!remus who chats with the animals as he goes about his day as if they are equal companions, because to him they are

farmer!remus whose accent gets thicker and more defined since moving back to wales, after years of it being watered down at hogwarts and london

farmer!remus who primarily has animals for their products and not for slaughter, focusing instead on vegetables, flowers, wool, etc.

farmer!remus who grows sells his products at the farmer's market in the town over instead of supplying them to bigger grocery chains

farmer!remus who tries to keep his prices as low as possible and donates as much as he can, despite it at times negatively affecting him

farmer!remus who takes notice of the loveliest person who always stops by his booth at the market, complimenting his dedication, style craftsmanship, you name it

farmer!remus who begins setting up at more farmer's markets than he really needs to, just in the hopes of seeing you there

farmer!remus who begins telling his sheep about you with an absentminded smile on his face

farmer!remus who stumbles over his words in your presence, but grows more assured in being himself with you when your conversations never falter

farmer!remus who gives you a flower every time you stop by his booth, before he eventually has the courage to ask you out with a full bouquet

farmer!remus who names every single one of his animals, no matter what

farmer!remus who gets a passion for woodworking through his farm as he insists on building everything he needs himself

farmer!remus who mentions in passing once how the manual labour makes his joints hurt, only to officially and hopelessly fall for you when you unpromptedly hand him a cream the next time you see each other that supposedly alleviates joint pain

farmer!remus who spins and dyes his own yarn from the wool he collects from his sheep that he gifts his mum and uses in his own fibre projects

farmer!remus who in his spare time knits green baby hats for the local NICU with yarn from his own farm

farmer!remus who is an absolute sweetheart that chose the life he deserved and had it become a hundred times better when you waltzed into it with an endearing smile

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thequeenofthedisneyverse · 1 year ago

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Technology from 1870-1899 (For Encanto fic writers)

So, A mutual of mine @miracles-and-butterfliess pointed out that everyone (including me) tends to forget that Encanto was literally made when the triplets were born. Which is literally 1900 or 1901. Regardless, it was the very beginning of the 19th century so let me tell you about the technology/things they would/wouldn’t have. (And please keep in mind that most of these may or may not have been imported into Colombia yet.)

1870 - 1879

1872—A.M. Ward creates the first mail-order catalog. NO

1873—Joseph Glidden invented barbed wire. NO

1876—Alexander Graham Bell patents the telephone. NO

1876—Nicolaus August Otto invents the first practical four-stroke internal combustion engine. NO

1876—Melville Bissell patents the carpet sweeper. NO?

1878—Thomas Edison invents the cylinder phonograph (known then as the tin foil phonograph). MAYBE

1878—Eadweard Muybridge invents moving pictures. NO?

1878—Sir Joseph Wilson Swan invents the prototype for a practical electric lightbulb. YES?

1879—Thomas Edison invented the first commercially viable incandescent electric light bulb. NO?

1880 - 1889

1880—The British Perforated Paper Company debuts toilet paper. YES

1880—English inventor John Milne creates the modern seismograph. NO

1881—David Houston patents camera film in roll format. NO?

1884—Lewis Edson Waterman invents the first practical fountain pen. YES

1884—L. A. Thompson built and opened the first roller coaster in the United States at a site on Coney Island, New York. NO

1884—James Ritty invents a functional mechanical cash register. YES?

1884—Charles Parson patents the steam turbine. NO

1885—Karl Benz invented the first practical automobile powered by an internal-combustion engine. NO (even before Encanto, Alma’s town looked rural so I doubt the automobile reached them yet.)

1885—Gottlieb Daimler invented the first gas-engine motorcycle. NO

1886—John Pemberton introduces Coca-Cola. NO

1886—Gottlieb Daimler designs and builds the world's first four-wheeled automobile. NO

1887—Heinrich Hertz invents radar. NO

1887—Emile Berliner invented the gramophone. YES

1887—F.E. Muller and Adolph Fick invented the first wearable contact lenses. NO

1888—Nikola Tesla invents the alternating current motor and transformer. NO

1890 - 1899

1891—Jesse W. Reno invents the escalator. NO

1892—Rudolf Diesel invents the diesel-fueled internal combustion engine, which he patents six years later. NO

1892—Sir James Dewar invents the Dewar vacuum flask. NO

1893—W.L. Judson invents the zipper. NO (zippers didn’t become popular globally until a little bit later; buttons, ribbons/laces and whatever else were still the norm/in fashion for fastening and tying (which is still the case in some places today)

1895—Brothers Auguste and Louis Lumière invent a portable motion-picture camera that doubles as a film-processing unit and projector. The invention is called the Cinematographe and using it, the Lumières project the motion picture for an audience. NO?

1899—J.S. Thurman patents the motor-driven vacuum cleaner. NO (if you're running from being killed, the last thing you're going to bring is a vacuum cleaner)

I remember a post listing the sort of jobs there would be in Encanto but I forgot so I’ll just list the ones I know (let me know if I need to add anything.):

Seamstress/tailor

Embellisher

Field worker

Teacher (of any kind; music, dance, art, etc)

Woodworker - wood carver

Toy maker

Construction worker

Joining a Local band/ Orchestra - being apart of a choir

Carpenter

Metal worker

Jeweler (though I’m not sure if Jewelery of the diamond/gem kind is common in Encanto)

bladesmith/ knifemaker

Inventor? (Inventors should exist in Encanto by now…just one other genius besides Mirabel?)

I know some of these are very obvious but I’m just giving people options okay?

@miracles-and-butterflies you seem to know a lot more about this kind of stuff so if you have anything to add/take away or me to fix please let me know. I tried to search up “When was X invention imported into Colombia” and literally nothing of use comes up.

#camilo madrigal #bruno madrigal #mirabel madrigal #dolores madrigal #antonio madrigal #isabela madrigal #pepa madrigal #encanto 2021 #encanto au #encanto fanfic

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lotusbxtch · 5 months ago

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WIP weekend!

Thank you @for-a-longlongtime @evolnoomym and @mermaidgirl30 for tagging me!

Still plugging away at SCNC Ch. 3, so have this tasty little tease to sweeten your Saturday/Sunday (smut below, 18+ only, MDNI!)

The three of you are back on the cozy couch, each nursing a finger of the Japanese whiskey, the complex swirls of subtle fruit, vanilla, and toffee dancing across your tongues. You sit with your back leaning against Joel’s side, cradled by his strong bicep while his fingers caress your shoulder and arm absentmindedly while he tells Frankie about his latest woodworking projects. Your feet sit in Frankie’s lap, his long, thick fingers massaging out a knot in your calf, head nodding and eyes on Joel as he listens and asks questions.

Looking between the two men, you can’t help but feel your body begin to buzz - and it’s only partially the whiskey talking. Here are your two favorite men in the world, finally together, both with you. It’s something you only allowed yourself to dream about in the dead of night, when Frankie had Isabella with him and Joel was wiped out from work. When you’d lay in your LA rental alone, body writhing under the sheets, thighs parted and fingertips slick with your arousal; swirling away at your center while fantasizing about your husband and your boyfriend taking turns with you, or even sharing you simultaneously. You’d bit the pillow to stifle your moans on more than one occasion as you came, dripping onto the sheets. Always assuming it was nothing more than wishful thinking, that Joel wouldn’t be keen on sharing you in person, that Frankie wouldn’t want to fuck you in front of your husband.

But now, it’s real. And you can’t wait a second longer to finally live your dream.

🤭

NPT: @nerdieforpedro @mountainsandmayhem @sin-djarin @musings-of-a-rose @qveerthe0ry

@almostfoxglove @almostempty @magneticecstasy @arcanefox207 @reggiesfilthylittlesecret

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #frankie morales #pedro pascal characters #fic: socal to norcal #wip wednesday #wip weekend

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fairytales-and-folklore · 2 months ago

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A World Where I Can Take Flight

The Owl House » Huntlow

Title: A World Where I Can Take Flight

Author: fairytalesandfolklore

Fandom: The Owl House (Masterlist)

Relationship: Hunter | The Golden Guard x Willow Park

AO3 Rating: Teen & Up (a complete collection of author's notes, inspiration credits, content warnings and tags can be found on AO3)

Summary: With careful precision, Hunter trims off one of the thicker branches of the newly grown palistrom tree, and finds a cozy spot underneath the shade of a miniature willow tree in the middle of their backyard garden — one of his favorite reading spots — using the woodworking skills Dell taught him to begin carving a new vessel for his long-lost friend.

He's been practicing for years, honing the craft to perfection, every bookcase, bedside table, and kitchen countertop in their cozy little cottage home decorated with dozens of cardinal figurines, whittling little tokens of each of his friends' palismen as birthday gifts, not to mention his most ambitious project — a crib, complete with a mobile made up of a collection of tiny little birds and bees, finished mere weeks after they'd found out they were expecting. All of it to prepare him for this pivotal moment.

Read On AO3 | Read On Tumblr:

It's poetic in a twisted, poignant kind of way that the last thing Flapjack hears before he's shattered beyond repair by the monster puppeteering his beloved boy is the name of the witch who brought him to life, soul's companion to his dearly departed Caleb.

Flapjack has come to know him by many names over the years — Witch Hunter, Brother Killer, Philip Wittebane, Emperor Belos — but no matter the moniker he assumes, whether he wears the face of a withered old man or a creature made from cursed and corrupted magic, he will always be known as the villain who tore apart Flapjack's family, the beast who stole what should have been two life-long companions, all because he hated the very thing from which Flapjack was made.

There's a sick satisfaction in the chilling lilt of Belos's voice as he says Evelyn's name, a manic glee in his wild, soulless eyes as he crushes the last living reminder of the witch who'd stolen his brother's heart — and with a sickening crack of splintered wood and a frightened whimpering chirp, Hunter feels his own heart break.

Hunter has endured a lifetime of pain in as many bitter flavors as it comes, from scars and bruises and broken bones to backhanded praise and fear-driven subjugation, all carried out by the man who'd claimed to be Hunter's only living family, by the tyrant who'd somehow found a literal means to control and manipulate Hunter's every move, by the human who'd grown up hearing horror stories about demonic possession, only to become the very worst example of the thing itself — but nothing could have prepared Hunter for the agony of losing his best friend, the first creature who had ever loved him, chosen him, stuck with him to the very end.

It always seemed impossible for so much love, warmth, and light to be contained inside one tiny body, but Flapjack found a way.

Something visceral, like the snapping of a wolf's jaws as it closes in on a threat to its packmates, sparks inside Hunter's chest, giving him the strength to finally take back control, to fight back, to scream everything he'd ever wanted to say the monster who had stolen everything from him, time and time again.

You know what I'd like, Belos?

I'd like to leave the Emperor's Coven, and never step foot in that throne room again.

I'd like to study wild magic, and learn how to carve palismen.

I'd like to attend Hexside as a regular student, and play flyer derby with my friends.

But most of all, I'd like to make sure you never hurt anyone ever again!

And with the last wilting reserves of his strength, Hunter throws Belos's one chance of returning to his former glory into the depths of the lake, and Belos, driven mad with rage, nearly drowns them both in an effort to chase after it.

The closest thing Hunter has ever known to a mother dives in after him, bringing him gasping and spluttering to the surface, while the rest of his friends and family gather around him, hair smoothed back and out of his face by Willow's gentle, shaking hands as she carefully cradles his head in her lap. It's fitting, he supposes, that the closest he's ever felt to heaven is when he's right on the verge of death.

No longer in need of a compromised vessel, Belos sets him free, but the damage has already been done. It's ironic — out of all the carefully crafted murders Belos has committed in a long line of replica fratricide, his very last had been entirely by accident. Flapjack hadn't been able to save Caleb back then, but he'll be damned if he lets Hunter meet the same fate.

Flapjack knows that he's dying, knows that his form has been damaged beyond repair, knows that Hunter is dying, but that he, at least, can still be saved, so Flapjack does the only thing he can do in that moment, to preserve his own life and heal Hunter in a single stoke. With one final nuzzle against his boy's scarring cheek, Flapjack curls up in the center of Hunter's chest, and allows the last remaining vestiges of his life force to seep into Hunter's, palistrom magic infusing into the parts of Hunter made from the very same source.

While Belos had stolen the life force from countless unwilling palismen for his own wicked benefit, trapping all those weepy palisman souls inside his mindscape for all eternity, Flapjack chooses to soar into Hunter's freely, and in the depths of Hunter's consciousness, the inner Hunter welcomes him with the open arms of a long-lost brother.

When Hunter wakes, he already knows what has happened, eyes the same golden brown as his beloved palisman, scars like scorch marks curling across every inch of skin that Belos's corrupted form had managed to infect. Tears spill down his scarred cheeks as he mourns the loss of his dearest friend, taking solace in the fact that, at the very least, he isn't gone for good.

Flapjack is a part of Hunter now, heart and soul fused with Hunter's own, thriving in the sprawling sunlit forest of his mindscape, waiting to take flight again someday. Hunter can feel him with every beat of his galdorstone heart, can hear his cheerful little chitters in the back of his mind, urging him not to lose hope, to stand back up and fight.

And so, that's exactly what Hunter does. For Flapjack.

• • •

In the aftermath of the battle to defeat Belos and take back the Boiling Isles from the whims of the Collector, Hunter makes good on his promise to himself to study wild magic, finishing out his school-bound years with his friends at Hexside, before beginning an apprenticeship with Dell Clawthorne to learn how to carve palismen.

He considers himself very lucky to have a partner who's so adept at plant magic, who not only doesn't mind, but actively encourages him to turn their backyard into a palistrom grove, all manner of wildflowers and floral oddities from her garden favorites woven in between their steadily growing trunks. But even with the most powerful magic and gentle, nurturing hands, palistrom trees still take several years to reach fruition, and by the time they've finally matured, Hunter has added husband and soon-to-be-father to the long list of titles he's proud to wear.

The very moment Dell declares them ready to be harvested, Hunter rushes inside to grab his favorite woodworking tools, pausing only to kiss Willow's cheek and baby bump in turn, and then comes bounding back outside, beaming up at the magnificent little tree, the swirling filigree of its pale blue bark crowned by a sea of fragrant pink and purple flowers.

With careful precision, Hunter trims off one of the thicker branches of the newly grown palistrom tree, and finds a cozy spot underneath the shade of a miniature willow tree in the middle of their backyard garden — one of his favorite reading spots — using the woodworking skills Dell taught him to begin carving a new vessel for his long-lost friend.

All of it to prepare him for this pivotal moment.

Hunter sits there in the garden amidst his favorite flowers and woodworking tools, hands steady despite how much he's shaking from the anticipation, and embarks on a project several years in the making.

As he carves, careful, gentle strokes going with the grain of the wood, he thinks about their time together, every memory he has of the two of them, all the wonderful things that have happened to him in their time apart that he can't wait to tell him, pouring every ounce of love and gratitude for that little bird into his efforts. As he works, Hunter feels the magic inside of him stir, buzzing from his fingertips into the intricate swirls of the palistrom wood, like something deep within him is awakening, slowly seeping into the pale blue wood with every delicate flick of his wrist.

He begins a little after sunrise, and when he's finally finished, it's well past noon, summer sunlight pouring through the gaps in the trees that tower over his little oasis in the shade. Satisfied down to the very last detail, Hunter wipes the sweat from his brow and places the little wooden cardinal in a soft patch of grass at his feet, watching and waiting, holding his breath with an eager smile on his face. He waits for what feels like ages, panic mounting like a rising tide inside his chest as the smile slowly begins to slip from his face.

Soft hands curl around his shoulders as Willow sinks down onto the grass beside him, tugging him toward her and gently carding her fingers through his hair as he buries his face in her chest and exhales on a broken sob. He's waited so long for this moment, put in so much time and effort, all for—

Chirrup.

Hunter lets out a gasp, gently extracting himself from his wife's comforting embrace to glance down at the little plot of grass where he'd set down the carving, only to find a bright red cardinal staring up at him, golden brown eyes gleaming. The moment their eyes meet, the little bird chirps excitedly, hopping up from the ground to flutter around both of their heads, trilling a chorus of friend! old friend! reunited with my Hunter and his soul's companion at last!

"There you are, old friend," Hunter tells him, tears brimming in his eyes as Flapjack hops up onto his shoulder and nuzzles against the scar on his cheek, faded over the years, stretching toward a pair of golden brown eyes glinting crimson in the light of the setting sun, slowly fading back to their original color after all this time.

"I've missed you too."

#the owl house #huntlow #hunter the golden guard #willow park #the owl house fanfiction #huntlow fanfiction #a world where I can take flight #fairytalesandfolklore #fairytales-and-folklore #fairytalesandfolklore fanfiction #fairytalesandfolklore the owl house #fairytalesandfolklore huntlow

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samuelsdean · 2 years ago

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Loving Joel (And His Dad Jokes)

pairing: joel miller x reader

summary: days like this make you realize how much loving joel makes everything worth it—even his stupid dad jokes.

genre: fluff

word count: 0.9k

author's notes: in my mind, joel is happy and thriving. he's living his best life in jackson. and you're in for a treat because joel is very much happy in this fic & in love (with me). yup, have fun reading!

MOST PEOPLE WHO KNOW OF JOEL MILLER WOULD SAY HE’S THIS BROODING, MYSTERIOUS, AND SCARY GUY. And they were right, mostly. Joel was someone you should be scared of. He is a fierce and ruthless protector of those he cares deeply for. He would stop at nothing. He’d do everything for his family.

At the beginning of your relationship—or when you only knew of him—Joel was someone you didn’t expect to fall for. He wasn’t your ideal man so to speak. But for some reason, despite your differences, both of you grew closer and then one day, you just woke up and realized that Joel Miller was the one for you.

And it seemed the feelings were mutual.

As you got to know him, Joel was quite the polar opposite of his reputation once you had managed to thaw his hard exterior. He had this other side to him, all hidden from those who weren’t special to him. It made you feel giddy knowing someone as hardened by life as Joel is enamored by you—which wasn’t an easy feat. You’ve had your fair share of ups and downs. Love isn’t simple especially when the world fell apart a few years ago. But loving Joel has been nothing but worth it. Waking up next to him, getting through the day, and falling asleep right next to him has made living better—like life was still worth fighting for because you had Joel.

You love him, and he loves you.

And you especially love his dad jokes, even if they were insufferable from time to time.

“It’s quite warm today,” You said to your lover as you descended the stairs of your home. “Do you wanna have a picnic or something?”

Joel, who was busy tinkering with his new woodwork project, which particularly looked a lot like you, or so you think, looked up at you. “That’d be nice, sweetheart. Do you wanna go now?”

You nodded as you placed a peck on his salt-and-pepper hair. “Maybe this afternoon,” You replied, heading straight for the bathroom. “I’m gonna go shower and then I’ll head over to Ellie and Dina’s, so I can invite them. Why don’t you go ask Tommy and Maria too?”

“Want me to join you?” Joel joked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“No, Joel.” You laughed as you threw him a dish towel, which he dodged easily as he was laughing now too. “If you’re joining me in the shower, we are never going to have that picnic!”

A few hours later, you were able to wrangle some bread and other snacks to take with you on your little picnic. Unfortunately, it was just you and Joel. Ellie and Dina had other plans, while Tommy and Maria had errands to do. But it was perfectly fine. You had a lot of time on your hands. A picnic in the future isn’t a farfetched plan for you to make.

“Jesus, I underestimated the heat today,” You claimed as you fanned your face. Joel was grinning at you as he looked like he thought of a joke you weren’t in on. “Care to share with the class, Mr. Miller?”

He simply shrugged and retorted, “Oh, it’s nothing, baby.”

“Out with it,” You nudged him. He shook his head no, to which you scowled teasingly. “Tell me!”

“Nope,” Joel snickered, pinching your cheek. “I’m not saying anything.”

You pouted and rolled your eyes. If he doesn’t want to tell you, then so be it. You were about to let go of the entire thing and dig into the food you laid out when the heat started becoming even more unbearable as if it were possible.

“Fine, don’t tell me anything,” You muttered. “But we’ve got to move over there. This heat is killing me.”

As you pointed to a bunch of trees where you could sit for shade, it’s like Joel could no longer hold back as he started guffawing, slapping his thigh in entertainment.

Oh, it’s that thing.

The thing in question was a pun he thought of. Real mature.

“Joel Miller!” You exclaimed as you started laughing along with him. One thing about Joel’s smile is that it’s as infectious as it’s your favorite thing in the world. “You’re worse than Ellie. Do you know that?”

“No, I’m not!” He denied, still laughing. “I haven’t even told you the pun yet.”

“Fine, tell me.”

Trying to stifle his laughter, Joel wheezed before schooling his face to a neutral expression. “I don’t think we should head over there. I don’t trust those trees.” He stared at the trees.

You looked at him, perplexed as to why. As far as you know, Jackson was the safest place you could be in, and those trees looked nothing out of the ordinary.

“Why?” You asked, starting to worry. “What’s wrong?”

You can slowly see the mischievous grin forming on Joel’s face.

They seem kind of shady.”

You groaned at him as Joel guffawed once again. You were starting to get looks from passersby as to what reduced the formidable Joel Miller while you were shaking your head.

“You’re so stupid,” You started chuckling. “Sometimes, I ask myself how can people take you seriously. Jesus, what was that pun?”

“It was funny!” Joel laughed, poking your side. “You even laughed.”

“I did because it was stupid.”

“That’s the point,” He retorted immediately. You rolled your eyes at him endearingly. “Puns are supposed to be so stupid that they’re funny.”

“You’re lucky I love you.” You responded immediately.

“Yes, ma’am,” Joel saluted. “I love you more.”

You smiled widely and landed a kiss on his stubbled cheek. Days like this make you realize how much loving Joel makes everything worth it—even his stupid dad jokes.

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thursdayinspace · 10 months ago

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∇, ☆

∇ old age/aging headcanon

i think as they get older, they come to realize the value of hobbies a lot more. they make some semi-successful attempts at gardening, but it's not really for them. mulder tries woodworking for a very short time, but after a couple of weeks of scully removing splinters from his hands twice a day he gives that up. he may try photography and be more successful at that. and yeah of course he tries to get pictures of ufos and bigfoot, but he also gets some amazing nature shots and a lot of beautiful ones of scully. and scully with her steady hands may try various crafty things or diy projects and have fun with that, maybe she becomes a master chess player, idk. i have no real idea what their hobbies would be (suggestions, anyone?) but i can see them discovering how good it is to take your mind off things regularly.

☆ happy headcanon

i think for some time, they try to figure out when their anniversary actually is. there is no specific date. their relationship just sort of happened. they can't pinpoint one specific event that marks the moment it went from one kind of partnership to a new kind of partnership. so in the end, they settle on the day they met. the day she walked into his office and shook his hand and their lives changed forever. it was the start of everything. the day they both found their person, even if they didn't know it at the time. he'll look at her across the breakfast table and ask her, with a grin, who she ticked off to get stuck with him, and she tells him she's looking forward to working with him and leans over for a syrup-flavored kiss. they spend a lazy afternoon together: she's on the couch and he on his knees before her with his head between her thighs, she moans his name and he looks up and says "nobody down here but the fbi's most unwanted" and she laughs so hard she ends up on the floor with him. they've had so many days together that defined their partnership, their relationship. none of them seem as big as the day they met. the beginning of the rest of their lives.

ask me about headcanons!

#ohh these were fun #thank you for the ask <3

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spaceorphan18 · 11 months ago

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The Rogue and Gambit Project: Previously On X-Men... Rogue (Part 2)

Yeah... I can just tell this is going to be everyone's favorite entry of this project. ;)

As we move into the late-80s, everything gets just a little more complicated. There are now multiple X-Books going (thankfully, Rogue is just in Uncanny at this point), a ton of characters to service, and story lines that sprawl into big events. Rogue kind of... gets lost, a little, in the shuffle. But there are some notable things to point out -- and one big thing *coughmagnetocough* we're gonna have to address...

For the most part, during a majority of the run up until this point, Uncanny X-Men stood alone as the sole book to find the X-Men. Suddenly, there were a bunch more. New X-Men followed the younger kids. X-Factor brought back the original team. And now the books did big event crossovers! Which - has only made comics completely muddy sense! So, instead of picking out individual issues like episodes of televisions, I need to break this down a little more in chunks...

The Mutant Massacre (Uncanny X-Men 210-219)

Uncanny X-Men #213

This particular 'event' is something that is, unfortunately, going to come back later in a big way -- though for Gambit -- though that will have consequences for Rogue, too. But... we're a long way off from there. The quick summary is basically - a group of jerks called The Marauders decide to take out the Morlocks, a group of mutants who live in the sewers because they can't pass as 'normal' looking. And, of course, the X-Men need to stop them.

Rogue gets some decent panel time. But the biggest thing is that the X-Men are finally her home. Especially as the team begins to change in big ways, especially as she's a hero now, especially as she is more open about having a big heart, she takes being an X-Men seriously.

Uncanny X-Men #217

The other big thing going on is the changing team dynamics. A lot of the older faces have left the book. Storm is dealing with a loss of powers. Wolvie has his solo going on. Kitty and Nightcrawler have gone to the book Excalibur. The team feels like it's in constant flux (and will be until the somewhat reboot in the early 90s). Rogue is, thankfully, one of the constants. And because of this, we do get to see her more!

She doesn't necessarily get a ton of new character development. But she does get to have some interesting new dynamics. Psylocke is introduced! Dazzler and Longshot join the team! Havok crawls out of the woodwork to appear! And even Jubilee (though much later) makes an appearance - though Rogue has little to do with her.

The Fall of the Mutants (Uncanny X-Men 220-227)

Uncanny X-Men #222

The next 'event' is Fall of the Mutants. Through an uncanny (see what I did there) string of events, the X-Men end up in Dallas. The Adversary (a Strom villain, really) shows up and creates chaos in Dallas. In order to stop it, all of the X-Men 'die'. Except they don't - and are saved by someone called Roma (sigh, let's not get into /her/) and they can come back, but no one will know they are alive and no one will be able to see them in any kind of media. So.... basically, it's a way to keep the X-Men out of New York and away from X-Factor, because we can't have that happening too fast....

Again, not really a whole lot of single Rogue development, but she gets to do a lot of badass things, and she is on panel quite a bit.

The other thing to note is that their given a portal to go through - something called the Siege Perilous. I'm not going to pretend I fully understand what it is - but when you go through the portal, you get to be 'reset' (or you essentially die). I'm noting it now, because I'll become important later on.

Australia (Uncanny X-Men 228-238)

Uncanny X-Men #230

The X-Men end up down in Australia, hanging out there while having adventures for a while. Despite her basher attitude, Rogue becomes one of the softer members of the team. See - she's bringing a picnic to Gateway, the unspeaking Aboriginal mutant who is basically their transportation system. Ooff, comics.

This era is kind of setting up two things - Inferno (which we'll get to in a second) and The X-Tinction agenda. Rogue ends up getting a mini-arc here with Wolverine, where the two of them end up in Genosha -- an island where mutants are basically chained up and caged. Unfortunately, it's implied that Rogue got a little ruffed up during her stay, thought at least Claremont (I think it was him) came out and said that she was not sexually assaulted here. Ooff, comics again. But Uncanny X-Men 235-238 has some great Rogue (and Wolverine) in it. Because of this, though, the Carol Danvers Psyche kinda takes over for a while, and Rogue becomes buried.

Inferno (Uncanny X-Men 239-243)

Uncanny X-Men #240

I need to take a second and talk about how during a lot of this run Dazzler and Rogue remain at odds with each other. Part of it has to do with their past, but part of it is over... Longshot. Ooff, girl needs to have a real romantic interest and fast... ;) Also, can we take a second to appreciate how 80s that outfit is?

Uncanny X-Men #242

Out of all the late 80s events, Inferno is my favorite. It's the batshit crazy tale of an ex-wife who wants to get revenge on her ex-husband, who left her for his dead girlfriend, and decides to take down an entire city by making a deal with a demon, while using her own child as a hostage. It's bonkers. But we're not here to discuss the many loves of Scott Summers ;)

Honestly, Rogue doesn't do a whole lot in this one. She gets to knock some people out. She gets knocked out. And... that's about it. Still a great read though.

Through the Siege Perilous (Uncanny X-Men 244-247)

Uncanny X-Men #246

Rogue doesn't really get to last long in a post-Inferno world. She gets to waffle a little between Carol and her own psyche. This practically gets me because the entire time she's been around so far she only has kissed to steal people's powers. Never a kiss for love. And it's a shame they were going to kill her off without letting her get one.

Uncanny X-Men #247

During a fight with Master Mold, Rogue gets tied up and sucked into the Siege Perilous, where she essential dies. And that's it! That's her story. The end...

Kinda sucky, right? Not exactly a satisfying way to end her.

Well... an entire year is going to go by in the real world before she gets to come back...

Before get to her return, though, I would like to say this. There are a ton of great panels and moments that I didn't document for this project. I really do recommend, if you have the time and means, going through and reading all of Claremont's original run. There are some really fantastic stories - that hold up relatively well all things considered. And while the Rogue development is slightly stagnant, our girl gets some truly wonderful things to do. It's definitely a full on recommendation from me.

The Savage Land (Uncanny X-Men #269, 274-275)

Rogue Pre- and Post-Siege Perilous

Alright, so let's talk about what happened in that year. The X-Office was beginning to change. Chris Claremont was beginning to near the end of his iconic run. The 80s faded into the 90s. Artist (and infamous) Jim Lee was taking over the book. The style changed - and everyone got to be a bit more sexified. The line up became really messy as there was a new X-Men team nearly every issue. And a rather handsome thief from New Orleans made his debut. (But we aren't going to talk about that yet ;))

Uncanny X-Men #269

Rogue returned through the Siege Perilous buck naked (seriously) and clean slated. All the voices in her head were gone, all her extra powers were erased, and, some would say, she got a new personality.

She was still sassy and brassy but now we got to add demure sexpot into the mix, who wears skimpy clothing even though she still can't touch anyone. And -- this is somewhat a set up for what happens next.

But first... some context. After Rogue makes it back from the Siege Perilous (and after some stuff with the Shadow King) the Carol Psyche was ripped from her own and two bodies emerged out. The not real Carol attacked Rogue and Rogue made her escape through Gateway, and ended up -- not in Genosha where the rest of the X-Men were dealing with the X-Tinction Agenda crossover (Rogue gets to sit that one out) nor out in space where the X-Men will land next, but in the Savage Land.

And you know who's waiting down there to help her out?

Y'all knew this was coming guys...

Magneto.

Buckle in, kids, we're about to talk about Rogneto.

Uncanny X-Men #274

Fun fact: This is the first issue where Rogue and Gambit are in the same issue. However, Remy is out in space while Rogue is suck in Antarctica with Magneto. And, look guys, none of this is that bad...

When Rogue first arrives down in the Savage Land, she is pursued by the clone/body/psyche of Carol, who is trying to kill her. Magneto stops Carol and outright kills her. He also kinda kills other people, too. Great start for this romance, right?

Uncanny X-Men #274

Anyway, he supposedly helps her heal (and eventually she'll get her Carol powers back - but at least not with the added Carol personality.) And apparently there's some kind of spark? I mean, honestly, to me it looks like he's hurting her, but their both mostly naked so this is hot, right?

Unfortunately, while this "spark" isn't anything compared to the raging fire that's about to happen in a few issues, it's going to have an effect that won't fully be put out until a bazillion years later in X-Men Legacy. And, well, this is a part of her story.

Uncanny X-Men #274

There's really not much that happens in this issue other than these panels that I'm showing you. We get a lot of inner monologue from Erik, but really nothing to show what Rogue is feeling. I realize there's a kind of grooming aspect you could place on it here, but this all happens over days, and I barely think it's any time to make any sort of real connection good or bad? It's just kind of here... being awkward...

And you know, admittedly, that bottom right panel is very pretty. That's probably the nicest thing I'll say about something Rogneto related.

Uncanny X-Men #275

For anyone who wanted Rogue with a naked Magneto, here ya go! ;)

Uncanny X-Men #275

There is a whole plot that I've been kind of ignoring - about Zaladane and her bonkers plan to take over the Savage Land. No need to worry - Magneto is going to murder her, too. And thus we get to see the biggest issue with Rogue and Magneto. They honestly have nothing in common. Sure - Rogue was a villain for a short time, and I could (maybe?) buy it back then, but all of this feels like they wanted to give Magneto a hot chick to hang off him for a few issues. Their ideologies are just too different for this to ever make any real sense.

And if that's your thing? Sure go for it - I'll never tell anyone who or what to ship. But it does nothing for me. (Sorry :/)

Uncanny X-Men #275

And this is where it ends. Really guys, I showed you all the big hits, there's nothing, really, that happens with Rogneto during this except the alleged 'spark'. Oh, and the fact that Magneto was fine letting Rogue die while he dealt with other things. Romance for the ages guys.

Magneto is going to go back to being a villain. And Rogue is going to make her way to Muir Island, where her life is about to really, really change.... ;)

But first, let's talk about Gambit...

#xmen #x men #rogue #anna marie lebeau #the rg project #marvel meta #marvel #marvel comics #i'm not going to tag it but yes I discuss Rogneto in this one #it's relatively painless though i promise

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ms-m-astrologer · 2 months ago

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The Week Ahead: February 24 - March 2, 2025

Executive summary: rest up, and make sure you have provisions.

Lunar Phases:

Monday, February 24, 14:05 UTC - Balsamic Moon, 21°13’ Capricorn

The key phrases for the Balsamic lunar phase are “let go of the past,” and “envision the future.” Carve out some “alone” time and enjoy the peace and quiet.

Friday, February 28, 00:45 UTC - New Moon, 9°41’ Pisces

The key phrase for the New lunar phase is “set a new intention for the month” - however, this particular New Moon isn’t very well aspected. And, eclipse season starts next week. “Going with the flow” may be the best intention now, along with being kind.

Monday, March 3, 07:16 UTC - Crescent Moon, 27°57’ Aries

The key phrase for the Crescent lunar phase is “gather and mobilize resources.” This falls toward the end of a very long void Moon of over 20 hours. After the Moon enters Taurus, focus on the basics.

Void of Course Moon

Tuesday, February 25, 03:28 UTC (Capricorn) - 05:40 UTC (Aquarius)

Wednesday, February 26, 22:04 UTC (Aquarius) - Thursday, February 27, 08:46 UTC (Pisces)

Saturday, March 1, 08:05 UTC (Pisces) - 08:52 UTC (Aries)

Sunday, March 2, 13:52 UTC (Aries) - Monday, March 3, 10:37 UTC (Taurus)

Retrograde/Direct/Etc.

Pre-retrograde shadow: Mercury/Pisces (starting Saturday the 1st), Venus/Aries (until Sunday the 2nd), Juno/Sagittarius, Vesta/Scorpio

Retrograde: Venus/Aries (starting Sunday the 2nd)

Post-retrograde shadow: Mars/Cancer (starting Monday the 24th), Jupiter/Gemini

Transiting Mars stations direct on Monday, February 24, 02:00 UTC, at 17°01’ Cancer. Yippee! Mars won’t be “up to speed” (so to speak) for a few weeks yet, so move ahead crab-wise, cautiously, and slowly. Listen to your gut (Cancer rules the stomach).

Transiting Mercury enters its pre-retrograde shadow on Saturday, March 1, 07:59 UTC, at 26°46’ Pisces. Whatever you have to do to calm your mind, do it.

Transiting Venus stations retrograde on Sunday, March 2, 00:36 UTC, at 10°50’ Aries. Watch all those old lovers crawl out of the woodwork! Not a good time to start anything new in the art, beauty, love, and money departments. Concentrate on what you already have in hand.

Et Cetera

There are two Opportunity Periods this week:

Monday, February 24, 08:41 UTC - Tuesday, February 25, 03:28 UTC. “This is a great opportunity to wrap up ongoing projects and accomplish goals during the Last Quarter Moon.”

Friday, February 28, 23:32 UTC - Saturday, March 1, 09:52 UTC. “Great to have fun, see old friends, and expand your mind.”

As mentioned above - the “shadow of the eclipse” starts next week, on Tuesday, March 4. This period of time begins ten days before the first in a series of eclipses, and ends three days after the last one in the series. This time, the shadow ends on Tuesday, April 1 - and if you don’t want to be April Fooled, then don’t start anything for which you care about a specific outcome.

So, for this week, rest - meditate/pray - and be kind.

#Astrology #Weekly astrological forecast #24 February - 2 March 2025 #Ms M astrologer

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codfanficedits · 1 year ago

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Before the mask - Part two

Pairing: Simon Riley x Fem!Reader

Summary: Because Simon wasn’t born as Ghost.

Wordcount: 2946 | Rating: E! (18+ only!)

Warnings: Author has daddy issues and not the sexy kind, talking about feelings? Some fluffy lovestory.

A/N: Simon would be around 22/23 in this fic, so it would be set around 2015 ish? Anyway, I didn't have loving parents and I am projecting here.

His eyebrow raises at that last bit. Your mother's words, they hang in the air. It's an offer. The right offer. The one he wants. The one he didn't even know he wanted, but now that it's presented, he needs it.

He can imagine it. Coming home with you at his side, spending time with the ones you love most. Maybe, perhaps... he'll love them like that, too.

"I'd...like that," He said quietly. "If you'd have me, of course."

Your mother smiles, and the smile reaches her eyes. "Of course we'd have you!"

In the background there are some muffled sounds, your father is clearly talking to someone, and the both of you try to make out who it is.

Your father gets back into the screen again, and an older woman sits down next to him. "Grandma!" Your eyes lit up as you see the older woman you adore so much.

You look like a little girl again, the way your eyes light up at the sight of your grandma. He wants to take your hand and pull you close again.

"Hello, sweetheart," she replies softly, and your cheeks flush. The way you smile at her, the affection you show...the feeling in his chest begins to ache again, and he finds it hard to keep himself from letting it out.

It seems they all have a way of bringing that pain to the surface. Especially you.

"This is Simon." You introduce him, pulling him closer to him by his hoodie. "He's a friend. I work with him."

Your grandma smiles at the both of you. "Her grandpa was a soldier." She chuckled. "Used to write me love letters all the time."

You smile at your grandma, you have heard the story a million times, but in times like these you miss them

You pull him closer, and that...it almost shatters him, completely. As if he needed that reminder. As if he needed something else to make him feel vulnerable, to let him feel what's been locked inside for years.

"A soldier?" He finds himself interested in the story. It's not just an excuse to be closer to you, he wants to hear what she has to say.

"What was he like?" He asks, smiling. "Was he a good writer?"

Your grandma laughs. "Horrible writer. As dyslexic as could be. I spent most of the war trying to decode what he meant." It is the truth wrapped in a little joke.

And you laugh too. "Grandpa was in his element when he could put his hands to use." You explained.

"He was a proud woodworker." You added with a smile.

He chuckles softly, hearing the story of the dyslexic love letters that she had to decode. What's even funnier is imagining a tough, stoic soldier trying to express his love for his wife, and writing it in the most jumbled, confusing way possible.

"That sounds adorable."

He turns to you, still smiling slightly. "I bet the two of them were quite the couple."

"They were." You chuckled. "They adored each other until the day he passed."

Your father clears his throat. "Grandma is staying for dinner, and we really should start cooking. Can't have your nan miss her favourite shows because you've kept her busy."

His attention shift to Simon. "The both of you promise me you'll be safe, okay?"

His expression softens, as your father brings the spotlight back to what really matters.

“We will," He replies, the quietest and most solemn of the group. His eyes switch back to your grandma, whose own expression is of both amusement and hope. She can tell how much this means, how much you mean for him. She's smiling again, maybe she can see herself and her husband in the two of you. This entire call, it felt like they were inviting him in. Like...if he is with them, he is not an outsider. He is family.

"This would be easier if you wouldn't worry so much, dad." You teased your father, and both your parents can’t help but laugh.

"Guilty as charged." Your father laughs. "Well kiddo, see you soon okay? We love you!"

You smile, "Love you all too!" The call gets ended and you close the laptop and toss it to the side.

“They loved you."

And with that, the connection is severed, and the room is once more silent. You toss the laptop to the side, and he is left staring at the floor. Your words echo in his ears.

They loved you.

The truth of those words sink in, and he knows they're true. In a way, he almost wishes the call was longer. It was nice to be welcomed into your world, even if it was just a glimpse.

He looks over at you. "Maybe...can I see that picture book your mom was holding?"

You groan, but it shifted to a laugh halfway. "I want to say no." You begin. "But I just know that when we visit, mom will just whip it out and you'll be seated next to her, forced to look at my baby pictures."

Your phone beeps and you take it out of your pocket. Your gaze softens and the softest of smiles formed on your face.

You showed him your phone, a text from your parents, and that while it is so expensive to text oversees.

"He's a good boy."

He smile as you show him the text message, feeling... He doesn’t even know what he feels right now. He wants to say it's happiness, but what he feels is...so much more complex than that.

He leans back against the wall, letting out a small huff, as he thinks back about the pictures he was shown of you. "You were a cute kid. Can you blame them?"

You've always been a cute kid, actually. The picture book proves that. But there's a certain...tenderness, a softer side of you when you're younger. And it's beautiful.

You lean against your pillows while you roll your eyes playfully. "Nah, I'll have you know I had a full on emo phase."

Your smile turns into a sheepish one. "And my childhood room is still mostly black and pink, with a healthy amount of posters."

You chuckle "And I'm sure mom would be happy to show you."

He stifles back a snicker. You had an emo phase? He feel like he is going to need to see some pictures of that for proof, that's too good to pass up.

"Your mom would say you were just ahead of your time," He adds, teasing you with a smile. "But I wonder if you looked as adorable in black as you do in pink." And to get that reaction, he'd even be willing to tolerate the cringe from your old emo phase.

"Oh stop it!" You grumbled while you tossed a pillow his way.

"I had a full blown argument with my mum about how it wasn't a phase, the first time I wore way too much eyeliner and all black. While it very much turned out to be a phase, and now she won’t let me redecorate my childhood bedroom." You sighed.

He catches the pillow at the very last second, avoiding the hit. He then looks back at you, with a devious look on his face.

"So? What was it with that eyeliner? Something you picked up at a Claire’s, maybe?"

The memory brings a smile to his face. Those early attempts to be cool as a teenager...the fashion and the music and the attitude. The memories, however, always bring a laugh out of him. And it's been a while since he had a laugh like that.

You stick out your tongue at his teasing words. "You would fit right in with my parents." You sigh. "Leave me and my Claire’s eyeliner alone."

"But all jokes aside. Mom's really picky with who she invited. So they must really like you."

He smiles at your compliment, and his cheeks flush slightly at the realization.

"Honestly," He admits, speaking softly, the truth finally coming out. "I was a little scared about meeting your family. I couldn't imagine how they'd feel about me. Knowing they like me? It means a lot."

His voice is quiet. "I...have to be honest. I didn't have the best family life growing up. It was always just me. And it's hard to shake that feeling. Your family feels like...like what I never had."

Your smile softens and your teasing gets put aside. "My folks got plenty of love to take you in too."

"Even grandma, I can tell that she likes you too." Your eyes light up. "I'm even willing to bet that when we visit, grandma will drop by with some homemade cookies."

"That sounds amazing," He replies, his eyes lighting up as well. Homemade cookies are one of those things where once you taste it, store bought can't compare.

He looks at you, and now he is curious. He wants to know everything about your family at this point. Your eyes still sparkle, and he wants to keep them like that.

"Tell me more about your grandpa. What was it like?" He asks, his expression genuinely interested. "What was that love story like?"

You let yourself sink into your pillows as you think about it.

"Grandma had always been a.. rebellious woman. Not wanting to get married, raising hell when her father didn't want her to work, that kind of thing." You began.

"They met in a pub, grandma was about to start a brawl, and grandpa convinced her to drink a beer with him instead of punching a guy." You continued. "They had been inseparable since."

"She wanted to punch the fella because he had tried to corner her and kiss her. Grandpa revealed on his death bed to us all that he paid the guy a visit the night after and beat him senseless."

This story is better than any love story he had read in a book. The idea that your grandparents met while your grandma was about to start a brawl...it's hilarious, and adorable at the same time. It's also really heartwarming that despite all the struggles they had, they were still so close.

He smiles softly, his own expression getting softer. "...they sound like they were perfect for each other. And the fact that your grandpa beat up the guy that attempted to take advantage of your grandma..."

He chuckles quietly. "She got herself a guardian angel, that's what it sounds like to me." Simon looks over at you, you look so comfortable resting on your pillows, and he would love nothing more than to join you, holding you close while the softness of your pillows surround him. And he hates to admit it, but the thought gets him so hot and bothered he takes off his hoodie, tossing it to one of your chairs, leaving him in his shirt.

"He was. He was a quiet 6'8 man. Never spoke much, unless it was to family and loved ones." You smiled.

"When he returned from the war he became a woodworker, and he adored grandma. She had a thing if taking in stray animals, even wild ones, and he would build them homes and beds without complaining."

You sigh softly, the memory of your grandparents is a nice one. "In return she made sure to always take care of him, you know, kept him well fed, made him soak his hands in a bucket of warm water, so they wouldn't hurt after holding tools the whole day."

Your grandfather sounds like an interesting person to him. Quiet and reserved, but with a heart underneath that's bigger than most people would get out of him. Your grandma on the other hand sounds like a bit more of a handful, just like you.

And it's adorable to Simon how they both had their own ways of showing their love. They were each other's perfect fit, each the other's guardian angel.

"He sounds like he was a man of honour. And your grandma...she sounds like she was a strong woman."

You laugh at his comment. "Grandma was a handful, she never went off on people who didn't deserve it. But one of their neighbours neglected their dog, and she yelled at him to the point that they left the dog with her. All while grandpa stood behind her, just towering over her, not saying a word."

"Dad had a very peaceful upbringing, and he gave me the same." You add.

He can't help but laugh. Just imagining your grandma being so loud, while your grandpa was just standing there behind her, looming over the entire scene with a silent and knowing gaze. It's a funny picture to imagine, and it is something he would love to be his future.

"Peaceful?" He replies with a chuckle. "I have a feeling you weren't always so peaceful."

He looks over at you, with the tiniest of teases. "You seem like the type."

You want to protest, but you know he is right.

"What can I say? I have my grandma's mindset." You chuckled softly. "and very supportive parents. So they let me discover my own personality, my likes, my hobbies."

"Which is what I love about you." There, he said it.

Your grandma's mindset, that stubborn streak, he finds it to be charming. It's part of you, and he loves every bit of it.

"I'm not surprised to know your parents were supportive. You're their daughter, of course they'd love you like the most precious thing on earth."

He said those words, but the both of you know they're words he never got to experience.

"Yeah, I got really lucky, Simon." You answer.

"And I'm happy I can share that luck with you."

He almost make the mistake of asking you what kind of luck you meant. Was it the way he'd been welcomed into your life and your heart?

Whatever it was, he was glad he knew it. Being in your world...it makes him feel safe.

He doesn’t know how to put it into words, but this is the most...fulfilling feeling he has had in a while.

He wants to look into your eyes, and he wants to thank you, with every ounce of his being. But he doesn’t, he can’t, not yet anyway.

Instead he gets up, cutting the conversation short. “I should get going. I have an early morning.” And with those words he leaves you behind, the both of you confused, but for different reasons. You’re worried you and your family overstepped any of his boundaries.

Simon lies on the other side of the wall, confused about this warm feeling in his chest and afraid that he will just get hurt again if he allows himself to be happy.

He puts his arm under his head, listening to your soft snores before he finally falls asleep himself.

Simon wakes up before his alarm, not that he got a lot of sleep, he had spend most of the night being worried, being sad, being confused.

Being jealous.

Because it wasn’t fair that you had a nice upbringing, that others had a nice upbringing. Why not him? What had he done in life to deserve this? And fuck did that keep him up at night, because no matter how good he could hide it during the day, at night that damaged child came out.

With a groan he gets out of bed, trying to listen if he can hear your alarm, and he shakes his head when the sound stays out. This. This was why you had to clean the toilets the other day, not that you learned from it, that much was clear. He steps under the shower, trying to wash away the salt from the tears, trying to wash away the shame, the guilt, the feelings, and as always he does a pretty good job.

When he gets dressed he can’t find his hoodie anywhere, and he curses under his breath, it was his favourite one, and he just hopes that he had tossed it in the laundry basket and had forgotten all about it.

When he leaves his room he notices that there is no sound coming from yours and he bangs on your door, before he leaves for the mess hall.

The loud noise startles you awake and you curse loudly when you wipe away the drool from your cheeks. This was the third time this week that you had forgotten to set your alarm, and it was only Wednesday.

You get out of bed quickly, running a washcloth over your face before you change into your clothes. Taking a random hoodie of the pile on your chair. You sniff it and a smile forms as you smell Simon on it. Maybe it was because he was in your room last night?

You put the hoodie on, and it is way bigger than you can remember, but you shrug, you’re already running late, you can worry about this later.

You’re barely on time when you make it to the mess hall, and breakfast is mediocre as usual.

On the other side of the mess hall sits Simon, spotting you wearing his hoodie, a smirk on his face. He would’ve demanded it back from any other girl, but not from you. You look insanely good with his last name on your back, and he will make no attempt to get that damn hoodie back.

Instead he lets his mind wander, did you know it was his? Maybe you liked how it smelled liked him? Maybe you had done it on purpose? Who would know?

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dancingtotuyo · 2 years ago

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Buy me Books and Call me Pretty (Joel Miller)

Part 3 of Build You the World Joel X Reader Rating: PG-13 (language and some sexual content) Warnings: some sexual references, lots of fluff Tags: pre outbreak/no outbreak, fluff, craftsman!joel, 90s references and thriving, were in 1997 folks! Words: 3000

Series Master List | Author Master list

You were gone for the week, a work trip to Dallas extended for a coworker’s bachelorette party. The first time Joel was home alone with both kids for more than a night. The first time you’d left Asher for more than a weekend. And that nook needed sprucing.

Joel had been planning it for years if he was being honest. You’d made the best you could out of it. Mismatched shelves from the thrift store, a large chair to curl up in, your paperbacks stacked and meticulously piled in overflow, your collection had outgrown the current capacity.

Joel spotted you in the corner, untouched cocktail in front of you, staring at your pager. He’d left Sarah at home with a babysitter and taken a night for himself. Picking his beer up off the bar, he walked straight toward you.

Okay, it needed more than sprucing. It needed a complete makeover. Joel had settled on the design the night before you left, the sketches filling his notebook for weeks.

He’d almost filled the notebook you gave him with woodworking projects. The finalized project rested just a few pages from the back.

When you first brought up this trip, he’d known this was his chance to surprise you. He’d wanted to do it since you moved in.

“What’s a guy gotta do to be worth your time, Darlin?”

You looked almost startled to find him at the end of your table. You sized him up. Dark curly hair, big brown eyes, and the kind of ruggedness one only gets from working outside with their hands.

You glanced back down at your pager and things didn’t feel so bad anymore. Wherever this guy was, he obviously wasn’t worth your time anymore. You grinned, pager and late date forgotten.

“Buy me books and call me pretty.”

Joel grabbed a cardboard box and a pile of books. Best to get started while Asher was asleep and Sarah distracted. Operation Book Nook was ago.

Taking care of two children by oneself was a difficult thing. Taking care of a curious 8-year-old and a rambunctious 2-year-old in a partial construction zone was damn near impossible. Joel estimated he was at least a day behind where he needed to be if not more. Friday it hit him, the hope of having the nook completely finished before you got home was beginning to look like a pipe dream. You were due back on Sunday afternoon. He’d just finished installing everything. There were some areas that needed a little more sanding and the whole thing needed to be stained with at least 2 coats. The stain needed to dry for at least a day before, preferably 3, before he put any books on it, preferably longer. It would probably put a damper on his grand gesture if he ruined your books in the process. There was still the matter of the project on the final page of his notebook.

The kids missed you. It was affecting their moods. Sarah had been mopey since Thursday. Asher had been downright inconsolable, attached to Joel at the hip, quite literally insisting to be held every waking moment. Asher had cried at daycare all-day Thursday. Joel had picked him up early. Joel canceled his job this morning and elected to keep him home at the very strong suggestion of the workers. He’d tucked both children into your shared bed tonight.

Hell, he missed you too. He wanted to call you up and cry, but he didn’t. You’d called every night. Every night he told you they were doing fine, they missed you, have fun.

“Ever played pool?” Joel’s thigh brushed yours in the booth. He was close enough you could smell him: sawdust and dirt. It was intoxicating on its own.

“I’m not very good.”

He squeezed your thigh. “Then I’ll have to teach you.”

Joel eyed the phone. He hadn’t talked to you without the kids since Tuesday. It was almost 11. You were probably out with the girls celebrating. It wouldn’t hurt to call your hotel room all the same.

Joel set his tools down, walking over to the landline. The front desk transferred him to your room. It rang a few times and Joel was sure you weren’t there.

You weren’t kidding when you told Joel you were bad at pool. It was embarrassing how bad you were, and you could see it on his face too. All you could do was laugh.

“I warned you.”

“I don’t think “not very good” covered it, Darlin.”

You fought the shivers from his deep drawl. You stepped into his space. “Then I guess you have a lot to teach me.”

His hands settled on your lower back, pulling you close. “With pleasure.”

“Hello?” You sounded like you’d been sleeping.

“You picked up.” Joel sounded surprised.

Your laugh crackled through the phone line. “I did, baby. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just wanted to hear your voice is all.”

“Two long distances calls in one day.” You smiled. “I miss you too.”

“You having fun?”

“I suppose. Melissa got us kicked out of the bar before 10. She’s plastered. Glad I splurged for my own room is all I can say.”

“Did I wake you?”

“No.” You stifled a yawn.

“Liar.” Joel grinned, he rested his back against the wall.

You rolled your eyes, settling back in bed. “It’s good to hear your voice too.”

“Got big plans for tomorrow?”

“I’m sure they’ve got something planned. I don’t know if I can keep up with them anymore.” You laugh. “Apparently having two kids turns you into an old woman.”

Joel felt that familiar tug on his heart he did every time you mentioned your kids. Not singular, plural. The same one he felt every time Sarah called you mom.One would think it would go away over time, but it hadn’t. “We’ll be old together then.”

“That reminds me, we’ve got to plan your 30th birthday party.”

Joel groaned. “Just you and me and the kids, baby. That’s all I need.”

“No Tommy?” You teased.

“Maybe I’ll kidnap you away for the weekend. Go to the beach or somethin. Just the two of us.”

Joel’s lips dipped to your ear. “Wanna get out of here?”

Just that question had your thighs squeezing. “Yeah.”

Threading his fingers through yours, he pulled you out of the bar.

“Just the two of us, huh?” You sighed, imagining the warm sun on your face and Joel’s tanned abdomen. “Sounds nice.”

“We could-” Joel stopped, the small thud of little feet on the stairs meeting his ears.

“We could what?”

He glanced around the corner. Asher took the stairs one by one. A hand clutched the banister above his head, the other his blanket. His dark hair was tousled from sleep, much in the same way Joel’s did. He looked barely away.

“I’ve got to go babe. One of our monsters woke up.”

You stretched out in the bed. You’d been excited to have a bed to yourself for this trip, but you were missing Joel’s too-hot body heat next to you. “Okay, I love you.”

“I love you too. Sleep good.”

“You too.”

Joel hung up. Asher’s feet had just hit the bottom step when Joel scooped him up. “You’re supposed to be asleep, little mister.”

Asher nuzzled into his neck as Joel rubbed his back ascending the stairs. “Woke up.”

“I see that.” Joel chuckled, kissing his cheek. He was certain his son would be asleep in a few minutes.

You parked your car in front of the house. Set in the suburbs, it looked cozy and not at all what you expected from the bachelor you’d followed here. Come to think of it, you weren’t sure what you expected. It looked almost domestic. Panic coursed through your bones. He wasn’t married, right? There’d been no ring, no tan line.

Joel tapped on the hood of your car before pulling up the driver’s side.You stepped out and his hands were instantly around your waist. He pressed you between his body and your sedan adding kindling to the simmering embers in your blood. He kissed you long and slow, nothing like any one night stand before. Those were usually about taking what you needed from the other person. This felt like giving.

Joel pulled back, thumb rubbing your side softly. “So, full- disclosure.” Joel looked nervous. Your chest tightened. “I have a daughter. She’s 3 and I have to go pay the babysitter before I carry you upstairs.”

“Oh- No wife though?”

Joel chuckled, pressing his forehead to yours, his voice sinfully low. “No wife, fiance, girlfriend.” His hand crept up your sternum, cupping your breast. “Just you, baby.”

You would’ve fucked him right there against your car for the whole neighborhood to see shamelessly.

He gave you a surprisingly chaste kissing before pulling away. “You can wait out here for the babysitter to see you, or you can wait in the garage.” He winked backing up the paved driveway.

You laughed, locking your car and following him into the garage.

“This’ll only take a minute.” He disappeared inside.

You immediately took the opportunity to snoop around. It reminded you of your dad’s garage, tools on the wall, more no doubt filling the industrial tool boxes, messy work benches covered in sawdust, a table saw. You knew he was a contractor who did new build construction, sometimes just the framing, sometimes until the house was completely depending on the project. You wondered what he worked on here.

The door collecting the house to the garage popped open. You hardly got a glimpse of Joel before he pulled you inside. Your back hit the door. His lips attacked yours. You cupped his face, willing him to never pull away. His tongue slid across your bottom lip. His hand crept around the back of your thigh, fingers squeezing and spreading. Desire hazed over your senses as you hooked your leg around his waist.

He pulled back and you wanted to scream. He winked at you, shut off the lights, and then picked you up, putting you over his shoulder. You yelped before slamming a hand over your mouth. It would do no good to wake up his kid. Joel laughed. “Let me get you behind closed doors before you start that now.”

Sarah was curled up in the comforter on your side of the bed. It swallowed her, the satin of her bonnet peeking up was the only cue she was actually in the bed. Joel laid down, settling Asher in beside him.

He let out a sigh of relief as the bed began to release the pressure on his tight back. His eyes grew heavy. Asher tucked into his side. He could rest his eyes for a few minutes.

Your heart rate was just returning to normal. Joel had tugged you back into bed before you could do the awkward shuffle of searching for your clothes and waiting for him to invite you to stay. Your limbs tangled together. He pressed kisses across your shoulder blades. “Sarah wakes up pretty early, so I’ll probably have to sneak you out of the house…” He kissed your neck, right under your ear. “But I want you to stay.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest. You ignored that. Now wasn’t the time to analyze it. You sighed as his fingers raised goose bumps up your side. “Your bed is softer than mine.” You nuzzled into the pillow. Your eyes felt like rocks and your limbs like noodles.

Joel chuckled. He pulled the comforter over the two of you. “Happy to hear that, darlin.” He kissed your cheek. It all felt so domestic.

“Daddy?”

“Shit.” Joel cursed under his breath. The comforter fell over your head. “Sarah, what are you doing up?”

“I had a bad dream.”

There was a thud. Did Joel fall out of bed? You pictured him on the floor, scrambling for his boxers and fought back a laugh.

“Can I sleep in here with you?”

“Not tonight, sweetheart.” Their voices drifted until you heard the click of a door. You stayed under the comforter to be sure, biting your fist to control your laughter.

You knew when Joel’s bedroom door shut. The lock clicked into place this time. You let your giggles free. He pulled the comforter back. “So you think this is funny?” You heard the amusement in his tone.

“Did you fall out of bed?” The comforter shook with your laughter.

He ripped the comforter off, making you gasp. “Joel, it’s cold!”

He crawled on top of you. “Don’t worry. I plan on warming you right up.”

Joel sighed wearily as he opened another can of wood stain. Last night’s brief eye rest had turned into a full 8 hours of sleep. Joel had woken up to the sun warm on his back, Asher’s foot in his face, and Sarah’s soccer game in 30 minutes.

He’d started staining this evening, opting to get his other project finished. The wooden cube sat on his nightstand, complete. You’d bought a wood burning kit a year or so ago, burning designs into his scrap wood. You’d started selling sets of coasters to a small shop in Austin. He’d saved one of your first test pieces. It had your initials and anniversary date burned into it. You’d tossed it out. He’d fished it out, making plans to use it in a future project.

He’d just finished the first coat of stain. Since he’d bitten off more than he could chew with this project, the first area he’d stained was ready for its second coat.

Whether it was the monotony of his task or the hum of the radio, Joel didn’t hear you come in. You set your suitcase down in the kitchen, the music and light form the living room drawing you in like gnats to a porch light. You’d planned on covering his eyes or jumping on his back to surprise him with your early arrival until you saw what he was working on.

Built-in, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined the far wall, wrapping into the nook you’d turned into your reading area. The bottom half of the shelves were turned into cabinets for other storage. You couldn’t wait to relocate the stack of games out of the coat closet.

“Oh my god.”

Joel whipped around. He wore his ratty old painting t-shirt and a pair of work jeans, but you were sure he’d never been more attractive.

“What are you doing home, Darlin?” He set the can of stain and his paintbrush down. “You weren’t supposed to be home until tomorrow.”

“I missed my family.” You smiled.

Joel pulled you into a hug, pressing a kiss to your forehead. It felt like forever since you’d been with him. It hit you. This had been the longest you’d gone without seeing him since you’d made things official.

“I missed you too, baby.” He smiled at you cupping your cheeks like he couldn’t believe you were real.

“You gonna kiss me or not, Miller?”

He laughed, obliging your request. You pulled him close. The 6 days you were gone felt like a lifetime as you pulled him closer.

When he pulled back, it was too soon. You started to pout until the bookshelves caught your eye again. “You did this?”

“It’s not finished. I thought I could get it all done before you got back.”

“Baby, it’s gorgeous.”

Joel’s craftsmanship had improved exponentially over the last couple years. He’d always been good, but as he leaned into the craft, his skill had grown.

You reached out to run your hand across the shelf. Joel stopped you. “Unless you want wood stain on your fingers.” He held up his hand for show. “I’d wait.”

You laughed, giddy as you kissed him again. “I love it, and I love you.”

“Only because I buy you books and call you pretty, right?”

“And build me bookshelves.”

Joel kissed you, not planning to stop until he remembered. His heart rate rose as nerves filled him. “There’s one more surprise.”

“What?”

“Stay right here.” He said. He rushed out leaving you there.

You started to wonder what he was up to, but were quickly side tracked by your new bookshelves. The more you looked at them, the more you loved them. He’d added the detailing you loved, the same one on the nightstands he’d built you for your birthday and the living room coffee table.

Joel’s arm wrapped around your midsection. His warm breath tickled your ear. You leaned into him. “You moved.”

“I’m still in the same vicinity. I had to check out your handiwork.”

Joel smiled. “Here.”

A small wooden box appeared before you. “What is it?”

“You gotta open it, Darlin.”

Grabbing the box, you faced him. “You made this too?” A smile crept onto your face.

“I made the box.”

The world felt like it stopped while he waited for you to open it. It felt like you knew like you were just teasing him, making him sweat it out. When you finally opened it, your eyes went wide. A gold band with 3 glistening diamonds, a modest-sized center stone with two smaller ones on either side, sat in the box, not that you could really make that out through your tears.

Joel was already on his knee when you looked back at him. He smiled, taking your hand. “Joel Miller, what are you doing?” It was a stupid question. You knew what was happening.

“I’m making an honest woman out of you.” He grinned and you laughed. “You know I’m not good with words, darlin. I planned to be dressed a little nicer than this too. But I love you. I love our life together. I love our kids, and I think it’s time we all share a last name… Will you marry me?”

“Yes.”

And before Joel could get off his knee, you were on yours, kissing the living daylights out of him.

#joel miller #tlou #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #Pedro Pascal #build you the world

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freezerbnuuy · 2 months ago

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Act 2:15 - Reveal Thyself (Page 1)

LORE | CHARACTERS | ABOUT / CHAPTERS / WARNINGS

← PREVIOUS | BEGINNING | NEXT →

Two months later Katlego

With the new-found support of the community surrounding Henford, I was back in business, and much faster than I had expected. Many were grovelling and apologetic, making donations which I did not refuse. I shared some of the donations with Father Morgan, as a form of 'rent' payment which he would put towards feeding the poor and funding various community events and projects. He was a selfless man, perhaps dangerously so. He could do with someone to help him out.

Áine helped out a few days a week as well. It's good to be back in her company. Interestingly, she mentions the man I met the other day, saying that he was her 'father'. It didn't ring true to me- after all, they both hailed from completely different places. I didn't question it. Maybe she didn't mean it in a literal sense, somehow. That said, her knowing him still didn't entirely convince me that he was trustworthy. I'm still going to force myself to visit him, though. Ellie keeps telling me I should stop trying to do everything by myself, after all.

I'd made a fair bit of money simply on using divination cards. In a time of hopelessness, people wanted guidance, or the assurance that, in their future, there'd be a glimmer of hope. It often wasn't the case for anyone in Henford.

Most of it was due to scarcity with Henry now gone. I had no doubt that Henry was murdered, and if he was so willing to go for Henry like that, I dreaded to think what he'd do to Gideon. At least Gideon has a means of self-defence, I guess...

Father Morgan had told me that Annorin had asked both him, Shepherd Julian of the Jacoban cathedral and the barkeep in the Finchwick tavern of my whereabouts. The barkeep apparently spat at him and the patrons all poured their drinks over him, chanting at him to pay for their entire tab for the night.

I didn't think Father Morgan had the fight in him, but I overheard a little of their conversation. Father Morgan had warned him to never step foot in Withernham again if he knew what was good for him.

According to Father Morgan, Shepherd Julian was far more straight-forward, telling him that the Watcher would smite him upon the Eve of Retribution, and he hoped someone else would smite him before it. He didn't explain in detail, but from what I could get from what Father Morgan had told me, Shepherd Julian had lost someone in his life due not being able to afford medicine from the one person who could cure it. There's hardly anyone in town who hasn't lost someone to him, and at this point, I was done with him.

This evening, I make my way back to Finchwick, careful to avoid the lurking eyes of the witchfinders. Their numbers have thinned lately. There's talk of a wolf creature slaughtering them upon every other full moon, though I haven't yet seen anything as such.

Reynold had told me where Oskar lived; he seemed to already know of Oskar's dislike for Annorin, and knew he'd have little qualm in possibly lending me some assistance. Where we'd met last time wasn't too far from his home. He didn't say much about him, other than that he was a woodworker who was currently busy with an apprentice.

#divided sims 4 story #freezerbnuuy #show us your stories #sims 4 storytelling #ts4 story #simblr story #sims 4 story #ts4 storytelling #sims storytelling #simblr storytelling

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cinemaseeker · 7 months ago

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Let's Review: Saturday Night

Biopics, not unlike live TV, are a tricky tightrope walk.

The line that actors and directors have to toe is razor thin and always shifting beneath their feet. The sweat starts to bead at the very beginning of conception, when an actor is chosen to mimic, and more often than not resurrect, any given celebrity/historical figure/actual real person of note for any particular project. And the very act of mimicking the appearance and mannerisms of these people strikes at the very heart of acting itself, which can be described as the uncanny ability to completely transform oneself, both physically and mentally, into a different person.

In short, to convincingly create a character.

Biopics pose a particularly unique challenge, wherein the actor has to both create a fictionalized character that can work within a fabricated narrative structure while still recreating a non-fictitious person who is then expected to reenact events important to both the person and the world at large.

Scrutiny and criticisms (from both the general public and the people who lived it) are hardwired to the very DNA of this genre in a way that no other genres are. Not to mention all of the fans that come out of the woodwork when these projects premiere, who are always more than ready to shoot down and fact-check every fictitious addition/omission/discrepancy, beating every bush into oblivion.

It is very easy to screw up spectacularly (and very many have) but these projects can also be absolutely magical when you get it right.

It can be tricky enough doing justice representing one key figure in the world of entertainment. Now add half a dozen more. And we have an ensemble biopic, a creature that just adds more balls for us to juggle.

So now, really, a biopic chronicling the chaotic countdown towards the very first SNL live show is nothing short of catching lightning in a bottle. At the very last minute. Almost on accident. After every other conceivable thing goes very, very wrong. Only to become, somehow, very, very right in the end.

Like lightning, this film has a zappy, kinetic energy to it (helped in very large parts by the editing, camerawork, and Jon Batiste's exciting frenetic score) as it zips and weaves it's way around every square inch of 30 Rockefeller Plaza on the night of October 11th 1975, playing out in roughly real time from 10pm to 11:30pm (aka showtime). It doesn't hold your hand so much as roughly drag you up and down the studio, huffing and puffing as the unsinkable Lorne Michaels (anchored by an earnestly steadfast Gabriel Labelle) rushes to put out little fires that keep popping up all over the place (mostly figurative, one very literal).

You've got a ragtag group of untested comics with large personalities that occasionally bump against each other like bowling balls against pins; some of whom wonder what they, as real actors, are even doing there. There's an anarchic writer with SNL's first head writer Michael O'Donoghue (played by a magnetic Tommy Dewey) pushing back for artistic freedom against the prudish NBC censor (the hilariously sour-pussed Catherine Curtin) in a heated interaction that marks a particularly bright spot in both the film and the fast-paced, wise-cracking script. Then there's countless technical problems with both the sound and lights, not helped by bitterly rebellious crew who won't even help a pour guy lay down some bricks. And all of this in service towards a sketch comedy show that, having run for 3 hours in dress rehearsal (a dress rehearsal that wasn't even taped) that has to be severely trimmed down for primetime.

And of course, there are the NBC executives that are breathing down their necks, waiting for Lorne and the show to fail. A show that, even Lorne admits, nobody has really figured out yet. As he states in one of the film's best lines, he has the ingredients in mind, just not the amounts.

Not to mention the Alpaca.

Oh, and Andy Kaufman's there. As well as Jim Henson and his Muppets. Both of whom are brought to impressive, gangly life by Nicholas Braun (aka Cousin Greg from Succession) pulling double-duty as the unconventional comic and innovative puppeteer with an equally commendable, underperforming monotony that provides the perfect sounding board for everyone else to bounce their insanities against.

The entire ensemble and supporting cast collide and compliment each like a finely tuned jazz band, creating great conflict in the cacophony and allowing great soloists to shine through all the noise.

Perhaps the most obvious standout is Cory Michael Smith as Chevy Chase (I'm sure he wouldn't have it any other way).

The natural physical resemblance always helps but Smith manages to effortlessly portray the egotistical smarminess of Chase in a way that's served him well in his other past roles.

This is the part of the review where I get to flex and say that I liked Cory Michael Smith before he was cool and btw I'm glad that he's getting bigger and better roles in his career. Good for him.

Shoutout to his kooky turn as Edward Nygma/Riddler on Gotham. Do yourself a favor and check it out. You won't be disappointed.

But if I had to pick a best supporting actor, I would have to give it to Matt Wood for his take on the late great John Belushi.

In any other movie, his part probably would've been much bigger (that's what she said). But all jokes aside he's wisely used rather sparingly, glaring at us from the background until he's brought in to punch up the tension with his explosive temper and mercurial demeanor. Your eye can't help but wander over to this strange little man who's obvious talent tips both the show and film's scales towards greatness, even as everyone can already see the deep shadow starting to darken the doorway.

One underappreciated aspect of the biopic is the opportunity it gets to lend voices to people who wouldn't otherwise get a chance to tell their side of the story. With all the big egos swinging their dicks around Saturday Night, the spotlight smartly tends to swing more towards Garrett Morris, the token black member of the cast.

You probably wouldn't have thought much about Garrett Morris before going to see this movie. But my hope is that after seeing this you'll go Google him and then hopefully Hollywood will finally give him his flowers. Played with indignant dignity by newly minted Emmy winner Lamorne Morris (no relation), Garrett rightfully chafes against having to play into limited black stereotypes, especially given that he graduated from Juilliard and performed on Broadway.

And finally, I would be remiss not the mention the incredible women of Saturday Night.

Like very much of SNL's history, the female cast members and writers, especially Lorne's wife Rosie Shuster (played with tender grit by the incomparable Rachel Sennott), have had to fight tooth and nail to make their voices heard. The film takes great strides to spotlight Rosie as the great unsung hero of Saturday Night, giving meat to a supporting wife role that far too often comes delivered bareboned. One of the very favorite lines in the film has Rosie desiring to be a writer rather than a wife and eventually choosing to go by her maiden name in the show's credits, her supportive husband by her side.

Although not the focal point of the film, their efforts do manage to shine brightly through the cracks, giving us glimpses into sketchwork that would lay the groundwork for future SNL superstars like Tina Fey and Maya Rudolph.

The fact that they get to do it while harassing former teen star Dylan O'Brien (aka Stiles from Teen Wolf) is just an added bonus.

But in all seriousness, O'Brien makes for a fun, buoyant Dan Aykroyd.

Without trying very hard, Saturday Night would've been able to give older viewers a shot of nostalgia for the early days of SNL while also giving younger generations a great first step back into learning about the early history of SNL, a show which is currently airing its 50th season and still going strong. The fact that it's also a great movie is truly an added bonus and a gift to the state of current cinema.

At the end of it all, Saturday Night is able to prove that while a biopic doesn't have to get all the facts right, it certainly has to capture the vibe. And it certainly does so, making us feel what it was like to be there in Studio 8H during a chaotic October night in 1975, where the Not Ready for Primetime Players were just trying to put on a show.

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1cassis · 2 months ago

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I have that FOMO feeling about everything. I love art but I also wish I'd done something a little more logical and manual, I'm interested in some sciences... I don't really know where to go from here. I'm starting to lose faith in the use of art. There are many times I dislike telling someone I've done nothing but study art. Even crafts (my experience in woodwork, my project in stained glass restauration, fixing up historical works) is starting to make me feel inadequate for the world around me. Though I'd enjoy following up on my father's legacy... I don't want to be stuck in this bubble. But I'm also very scared of new beginnings.

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ladycatastrophe7 · 25 days ago

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Goal Ideas for your vision board

General to-do’s (decluttering, maintenence, donating things you don’t need, compleating a project you’ve been procrastinating on, health appointments, setting up important documents, declutter contacts/friendships that don’t serve you, learning a general lifeskill (cooking, sewing, woodwork, etc).

Self-concept (Healing childhood wounds and limiting beliefs, Journaling, self awareness, questioning limiting beliefs, abundance mindet, practicing radical self-acceptance and self-compassion, overcoming fear of judgement or rejection, stepping into your ‘higher self’ identity, shadow work)

Health (morning or night routine, sleep scedule, hydrated, learning about nutrition, mindful eating, walking a certain amount of steps, finding a form of exercise you love, healing your body, self-care, glow up)

Milestones (Buying your first car or upgrading to a dream car (getting a driver's license), Traveling to a bucket-list destination, Publishing a book, starting a business, or launching a creative project, Achieving a personal milestone (running a mrathon, learning a language fluently), Reaching a sub-goal in the direction of your dream life., Moving house (getting your first apartment, etc), Graduation, passing finals or going back to school)

Social life (Making a conscious effort to deepen existing friendships, Hosting regular gatherings, game nights, or dinner parties, Joining a club, class, or online community to meet like-minded people, Strengthening communication skill, Practicing charisma, Overcoming social anxiety or public speaking fears)

Purpose (Identifying and developing your "unique gift" to the world, Finding a cause or movement you deeply care about and contributing to it, Exploring spirituality and existential questions, Writing a personal mission statement, Defining your core values and aligning your life with them)

Career (Finding a mentor or becoming a mentor, Begining a passion project or side-hustle, Taking steps toward your dream career, Improving leadership and management skills, Building a personal brand (blog, social media presence, networking), Transitioning into a career that aligns with your values, Setting work boundaries to prevent burnout, Setting up a sustainable system of productivity that nurtures your mental health, as well as boosts your efficiency

Money (Paying off debt or student loans, Creating multiple streams of income, Saving for an emergency fund, travel fund, or dream home, Learning about wealth-building strategies, Become financially literate, Negotiating for a promotion, Setting up a buissness model that allows a portion of your revenue to become passive income, Building assets and investing, Donating a percentage of your income to a cause you care about, Work on limiting beliefs regarding money (abundance vs scarcity mindset)

Mastery (Deepening expertise in a field or industry, Learning a new creative skill (painting, music, writing), Picking up a new hobby, Developing a skill that's tied to your career or purpose, Becoming fluent in another language, Mastering a physical skill (surfing, rock climbing, archery), Developing discipline and consistency in skill-building

How to achieve them and book recs

#spirituality #how to manifest #change your life #growth #personal growth #personal development #abundance mindset #self awareness #vision board #goal setting #motivation #advice #glow up #habits #morning routine #that girl

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