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darkdreamtheorist · 8 months

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Sling Set 7, June 20X6

Claire de Flume

Our summer trip for all the zoomates in Central Park Zoo to Hori-Zones indoor water park hit a flat in the bus dept, all the tires!

The weatherwoman Absol almost Wilded out undressing herself in the news station when her forecast called for extreme heat, 115°F!

Every furry critter got popcorned with their fur fuzzed and stewing in their sweat, and the arctic ones were stocking ice as if the World was melting! Even the reptiles panicked cuz of all that sun and multiple moltings!

WE NEEDED OUR POOLTIME!

😮💡

Wait…Didn’t Gene n I use that outdoor tub on the Stuyvesant girl when some imp possessed her & her can gal Tina? filled it with enough salt n sand to make a beach n lure a rabid raccoon w/ a naked mongoose cashier lady, demon b gone! Tonia’s got plenty water fun stuff for the dogs she trains at her obedience classes, and that slide her dad gave her for the playground cud b an attraction at the zoo, plus maybe the Arises could spare a few giant ice blocks for our makeshift ACs in holed-out coolers from the frisbee dudes visiting from Brooklyn! We still owe that mongoose 4 the striptease bait, we’ll offer a go at our exclusive Park Zoo waterpark rides no charge? If Alice lets us, that is. She was happy to oblige mostly cuz her makeup wuz running, and some inhabitants were willing to make their spaces into attractions and pools with some summer gear of their own!

Then it’s settled: one Gimungo Water Park at CPZ for the whole damn summer, all residents n tourists looking for cool welcome!

2 weeks time, the grand opening of Central Air Water Park Zoo was in full swing! It wasnt Hori-Zones, but we pulled off wut we could with the junk from neighbors’ garages and the shed. Got the firefighters and mayor in on the action, securing permits to connect hoses to the hydrants and into the zoo’s main water system. And we made sure to direct those hottest of dogs to the chillest parts of the zoo, mainly the Polar Bear & Penguin habitats, but we added saunas in the desert and rainforest habitats for the tanners and steamers. Shame we had to charge $10 or $20 on All day passes for our guests, but 2-4 single scoop cones from a malt shoppe per guest/group wud b enough charity to pay for new bus tires after tarring on the blacktop!

While ringtail Gene ran the cashbox by the main gate, Matt & I played lifeguards with his dog cop buddies, thanks of officer Francine Doberman’s training, when she busted some fairground robbers at Coney Island last summer. Wigless, too: she didn’t want her hairpiece ruined by all that chlorine. And had to keep the gulpin poking out her bellybutton, Gulliver, from drinking “stew water” or it digested some unpleasing meat. I was keeping a sharp eye on Fenneko. My coworker was in heat looking to hook up “swim buddies” , like the two bros with their frisbee matches. I needed to make sure she didn’t try tasting their beef when she’s steaming!

Two hours into the Big Summer Chill-a-Thon, I seem to have lost one ringtail cat. Last I heard, Gene left the admission box to a Guagsire that also sold ice cream for the young guests. This one hippo lady, far too young to be in her golden years, haggled an orange sherbet cream pop as an entry fee for $15. The slimy blue newt took the twofer, but didn’t suck in the refreshing relief in its mouth just yet, rather it smeared it on its steaming forehead before biting into it! Not enough dough or a favor from this grueling heat, she made a bargain on that fee!

No wait, that’s Greta Dee, the sweet-loving elderly woman down in Hell’s Kitchen! Moved to New York from London five months back, set up her family’s candy store, Dee’s Luscious Sweet Shoppe, in the most rotten part of the Big Apple! Can’t b safe for any kid or adult geting their goodies and not b unalived by a crook!

I heard thru the grapvine that delectable granny was a witch of sorts with her assorted candies, not only did she smooth out her wrinkles & fat to a fetching pear shape, the sweets in her shoppe seem irresistable to not buy. That or, like in Hansel & Gretel, she was luring unwiting victims to make her goodies with animal sacrifices or sum sh!t

I’m in no mood for urban legends out of fairytales, not like I had enough urban fantasy adventures in my life without the ringtail going off on his A-side story. I got a needless b-plot as temporary lifeguard saving some unwiting college broskis from getting STDs from my horny-ass coworker. With her tiny size, she’ll play Lost Preschooler and get those meatheads on the arctic river floe by the Polar Bears virtual glacier!

#joan’s parck #summer heat #so hot 🔥🔥🔥#new york #waterparks #central park #zoo

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vale-quevale · 11 months

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It's been a long time, but I did it.

Since I started shooting digital, I desired to learn analog. Always been scared about it, maybe for the "you have just one chance!" feeling that made me really uncomfortable.

Before me and my boyfriend are leaving for a week, just thought about it again: I have an out of shape smartphone, maybe I could bring my reflex with me, but sometimes I feel it so heavy, plus my swimming is the very-long kind and I want to leave as few personal belongings as possible on the beach.

So here comes the idea. Some years ago I found out that a 90s Yashica Zoomate 105 SE Brava, our family camera for a while, was still there, with a 125 film inside, exp. at least 10 years ago - what a discovery for a naife amateur.

Today I put inside the new battery… it turns on! 18 pictures out of 24, wow, maybe I can shoot even 6 pictures more! but... no way. Brava seems to need more time for recharging. The dealer suggests "maybe it's better to rewind it and try a new film". They sent the developed files to my mail in 20 minutes, and this is what came out: some flowers, my father and some special memories of my grandma birthday - this is how we discovered they were shot in 2008.

I bought a new film. I also wanted a 800 to try something at night, but it was unavailable; for now a daylight film is ok, I will buy another one next time. The dealer wanted to put the film inside the Brava for me but I was like "I CAN DO IT BY MYSELF, PLS STOP, thx Mr." (just like a little girl jealous for her new toy).

Watching some analog pictures on the laptop screen, in just 20 minutes, has been so weird. I remember when my father had to wait two, maybe three weeks or a month to get "the call". I asked him quite every day "did you take them? they're not ready yet?!" and we had to wait more and more, until he could took them home after work, just to find out that maybe 3 or 4 shoots were good.

I couldn't wait for the ritual. After I came back home I put the unexposed film inside the Yashica that… doesn't shoot, lol. The flash works, the display too, but when I press the shot button it goes like "nope my friend, i just can't do this anymore, please just give up". May be an issue with the shutter, idk. I rewind the new film and (surprise, surprise!) it ghosts inside the canister. What a genius. Here comes the "oh shit, i just spent 13 euros for nothing" part. Discouraged, I luckily found this video, and I could bring the film outside again.

Since the Brava was not expecting for that resurrection 💔 my analogic adventure can continue with a plan B: a working Ferrania Admira One somebody gifted to me for the Prima Comunione. No self-timer, no zoom, no flash mode changing. Just a narrow point & shoot, but it can works. I can't wait to develop again :)

#35mm #analog #film photography #expired film #yashica #kodak film #camera roll #flowers #pink film

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love-and-i-am · 23 years

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Holy Wood - Chapter 10

Feb 14, 2001 | MarilynManson.com | Archived by Nick Kushner at The NACHTKABARETT

It wasn't very difficult for Coma to find Adam's file that week. The casting storage room was like a mausoleum of never-to-bes and never-to-knows. The walls were lined with dusty stacks of half inch reel boxes filed by cut-out Polaroid faces on the bindings and larger b/w headshots on the lids. They were all marked REJECT AND HOLD. Everyone ended up here expecting to make it somewhere more special someday. No one ever did.

Adam has no idea that as he sits in the torn remains of his trailer inappropriately dressed for Celebritarian purposes, Coma White is staring at his photo and listening to the sterile rendition of the song he wrote right here for her. It was only "happy" that her birthday meant that she was finally a legal grey and free from this home. Even though she is incredibly smart, her idealism betrays her into thinking she would actually be allowed to leave here in any other way than a body bag.

Outside her window, klieg lights and a red carpet draw crowds of celebrating birthday mongers and the long legs of paparazzi, climing over one another for a shot of drama. FLASH!

Something shifts now like a cheap film flashback. The sound is reduced to the dubbed down rattle of a projector's plastic speaker. The voices sneak out through tiny holes from the past and Coma is just a little girl crying into the camera's P.O.V. It is the President's Bell and Howard Zoomatic, and although a fine photographic instrument it provides a somewhat grainy resolution. Her tiny, nine-year-old body is drowning in a white gown and an oversized platinum blonde wig as she is dressed like a kiddy-porn Marilyn Monroe. The handle-held cinematography is nauseating at times as the beautiful little girl dances like an adult.

"Sing," a voice off camera coaches her. "Sing for daddy." Her eyes are black waterfalls of mascara and her tiny nose drips down onto her her red smeared lips as she sings. "Happy birthday, Mr. President."

"The gun, baby." He whispers. The camera focus is disturbed and the sound of Mr. White's pants unzipping becomes quite clear, although it's hard to tell now if it's on the projection or in the room this very moment. The sound of her voice struggles to stay in synch with the image.

On the large screen in the President's private library, young Coma fellates the barrel of a shiny chrome revolver, gagging between syllables of Ha-ppy-Bir-day-to… The light from the projection reveals walls of film canisters where books might normally be. The President pinches a cigarette in one hand and his other has disappeared into the expensive cloth of his pants.

Through a crack in the door Mrs. White watches jealousy. Her reddened eyes seem more inclined to violence then self-pity though. This seems to be a scene she has stumbled upon in one form or another for the last time.

She turns away from the library and desperately searches her reflection in the halfway mirror for wrinkles or flaws. The 'mirror' is actually a video monitor in a frame that provides one with a more accurate assessment of one's looks, particularly on TV where it matters most. Mrs. White is no longer the fairest of them all. She grabs the phone sitting on the small stand beneath the TV monitor. "I need Child Safety here now! Do you hear me?"

The voice on the other line responds calmly, "Mrs. White with all do respect, we've been through this several times before. The President has sole authority over Coma and–"

She throws the phone against the wall and and runs to her room. Halfway down the hall she twists her ankle and splinters one of her high heels. This only makes her more determined.

In the Presidential suite there are separate beds on either side of the room. On the wall between them hangs a pristine lithograph of the same Family portrait Adam has hanging in his trailer. Mrs. White nervously reaches into her night stand. There is a Bible amidst thousands of pills resting peacefully in thin orange child-proof cylindrical coffins. She considers how sweet it must be to be as a pill, to live in such empty solitude. Sleeping softly, waiting one day to be swallowed and then digested in burning stomach acids eating you away into nothing.

She reaches for the bible instead, after all it is meant to answer any question and to solve any problem. She pulls it open and inside it is merely a hollow case containing a large black revolver. This is not a ritual handgun. This is simply used for killing.

She picks it up with both hands and sits on the edge of her bed crying.

•

Coma's bandaged arm reaches to rewind the reel of Adam's song once again. ADAM. She reads the name. This makes him real to her. The music is crude but makes her feel not so alone. If there were scientists to provide a logical explanation, they might say it contained the 'golden means' through with the human brain is satisfied, creating a feeling of completeness. To Coma it just sounded like someone who might be able to see this world like she did. It drowns out the "Happy Birthday, Coma!" chants from outside her window.

Her door is suddenly kicked in with half-assed drunken force and the President leans against the frame for support. He leers at Coma incoherently with a birthday cake in one hand. The candles make ugly shadows across his face. Coma tries to hide Adam's box and the music but her nightgown just comes open in the process. "What's that playing? That's not my song…" He loses his frame of thought for a moment staring at her pale exposed belly and thighs. "Are you too big to love daddy, now? You're all grown up my little princesss…let me see."

He stumbles toward her and with his free hand begins to grope her breasts. She resists, for what seems like the first time, and rips open his silk shirt. What she sees beneath is more disgusting than his pathetic molestation. His almost translucent skin is varicose and wrinkled. On his shoulders and chest he wears prosthetic pads that are snapped onto his skin with tiny stainless steel fasteners to augment his youthful, healthy shape. The material his fake muscles are made of looks wet and gelatinous like raw chicken meat. He is too drunk to be embarrassed, so he tears away the rest of his clothes stumbling toward her with some sort of elastic garter that holds his veiny erection upright. The cake with her face painted on it, smears down his leg onto the floor.

"Daddy, loves you. You know that's why we have to do this."

As he reaces for her arm, she pulls away and grabs a six inch tall marble statue of her father from her desk. With all her strength and eighteen years of resentment she smashes his across the forehead with it, breaking the statue and splitting open a large horizontal gash above his brow. He falls, bleeding and covered in cake. The gaping wound seems to frown above his closed eyes. She drops the statue, even though she knows he's still alive.

•

In the hallway to Coma's bedroom Mrs. White walks slowly and decisively choking back her tears with one manicured hand, carrying the black pistol in the other. When she pokes open the door with the barrel of the gun, she sees her husband sobbing pathetically. He is clutching Coma's torn nightgown and his atrophied torso is covered in his own drying brown blood. The white sheets of her bed have caught fire from the spilled candles and the bed has begun to burn behind him. The bedroom draperies flutter from an open window. Coma is gone.

It's quite obvious to Mrs. White what has happened as she enters the room. She grabs the gun with both shaky hands and points it at her husband.

"Who's going to get it up for you now?" She shrieks, looking at his still hard phallus, pinched off with a strap like a tourniquet. It twitches grotesquely in time with the short burst of blood that pulse from his head wound. "Don't come crawling to me. I married a goddamn star! Look at you now. You're just a shell. I wasted myself on you."

"Go ahead and shoot me," he taunts her, still sobbing. "I want you to. Then where would you be?" His crying is now a disgusted laughter. "You'd be nothing. You're old and worn out. You're ugly and it makes me feel dead just being near you. So do it!"

She is shaking more now and her strand of confidence is snapping. She starts crying weakly and he laughs at her, wiping the blood and tears out of his eyes.

"You're nothing, now you'll be less than nothing. Back to the ghetto for poor trash like you."

She stops the sound coming from her mouth abruptly with this realization. She opens her chapped, red lips into the shape of an 'o' and sticks the barrel in her mouth.

"You'll be worthless in hell too."

She pulls the trigger and fires. Her head explodes onto the perfect white walls. If the President had a frame of reference he would consider her blood splatter to be completely artless even by Jackson Pollack's standards.

Westmoreland and a few other secret service men arrive shortly after the gunfire. He seems more panicked than usual considering he has a neurotic personality to begin with. Valentine has accused him of being a homosexual but likes keeping him in charge because he's easy to push around. Today is no exception. When Valentine arrives seconds later, he shoves Westmoreland out of the way and start ascertaining the situation.

Valentine and Westmoreland ignore the fire and Mrs. White's corpse–the other mindless suits handle that–and they go directly to Coma's desk. Adam's reel is still spinning, although the tape has run out. Valentine notices the face on the box but doesn't bother to fill in his questionably gay counterpart out of sheer disrespect and possible plans for manipulation that could always arise for his own benefit. He stops the tape and puts it back in the box.

"What's the story here?" Westmoreland asks. He's not exactly stupid but not nearly as attentive as Valentine.

"Looks like daddy's little girl is taking this rebellion bullshit a little too far. How the fuck did she get this?" He shoves it in Westmoreland's face. "That's your job–security, you idiot. We don't need people hearing this. We give them one song. One leader. One path–Obey and consume."

Westmoreland looks over at the faceless body and the smoldering bed. "Well, what do we do about her?"

"Simple. Rebellious punk. Listening to some–what is this shit–some teenage music. She gets all fucked up over it." he's exaggeration, almost performing as he says this. "Kills mommy and runs away. Perfect. Classic even."

"I'll find this one." Westmoreland says, grabbing the tape. "Let me keep this for now." Valentine doesn't give it up. "Go do whatever you do."

Valentine walks over to the President and cleans him up like a baby with one of Coma's pink monogrammed towels. "Listen, your rating's always go up during a punk panic. Play the grieving widower. Grief is good, they love grief." He gives the President a pill. "Leave this to me. I'll get you a new daughter, the co-star you deserve."

"A pretty one?" he asks childishly.

The next day Mrs. White's funeral is held on a renovated motion picture lot still equipped with essential sound and lighting effects required for such a tragedy-inspiring media drama. This place is called the Holy Wood Memorial Cemetery and everyone is in attendance. The President wears his best mask of grief–Academy Award winning, in fact. He even adds a drop of glycerin to his eye before his eulogy. The best make-up artists available concealed his gash perfectly but a few more hours in the sun and it will get as the Gaelic say "Kennedy," which means, of course, ugly or wounded head.

Valentine cues, Infanta, the President's new daughter and she gives her best 9 year old salute as Mrs. White's coffin is lowered into an ersatz earth soundstage. After the ceremony, Valentine approaches the President.

Grief, everyone. Despair. Flash.

"We're going to need him to really take care of this little Coma situation." Valentine says matter-of-factly.

"Boniface?"

Valentine nods.

"He's such a fucking zealot. Do we have to resort to that?"

"That's just it. Religion is the best way to make people hate. And hate is what we need." Valentine makes sure no one is looking and grins, patting the President on the back. "Hate sells."

#writing #Marilyn Manson #Holy Wood #MarilynManson.com #unreleased #novel

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katieurah · 4 years

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Guys, I can’t get Elorcan as Zoommates outta my head. So I write it. And it’s a mess. But here I am posting anyways. Yikes.

Forgive my terrible attempts at writing out sounds of a coffee grinder. I hear one every morning, but still.....

Also, still titleless.

..........................................................

Whiiirrrrrrr. Sccrrrrr. Whiiiiiirrrrr.

Lorcan glared with bleary eyes at his coffee grinder struggling to keep up with the too-large scoop he’d tossed in that morning. He opened the latch and poured the grounds out into the pour over basket and set it to steep.

Extra butter went on his toast that morning, fried eggs instead of a healthy protein shake, and regular bacon - not turkey baked in the oven. Oh, no, not today, he’d thought as he laid the strips in the cast iron pan. He needed all the grease, comfort, and caffeine life could afford him for his day.

Seven months. Seven months, one week, and four days to be exact. His goddaughter’s dedication was perfect. The day was perfect. Until.

He finished his coffee, plated his breakfast, and walked to the office to turn on his system. And brood. Apparently he was good at that.

Elide. She was the other perfect thing about that day. But, apparently he was as self-absorbed as she claimed. How did he not know about that break-up? He and Elide were friends. They had a connection. A spark. Or so he thought.

As Rowan’s oldest friend and former military buddy, he’d always been around. He knew Elide from the start of Rowan and Aelin’s relationship. Aelin’s cousin was more like a sister and was always there. They talked. They chatted about life. He thought they were friends. Then one day, friends didn’t seem like enough. He didn’t like that she went home earlier than everyone else and he couldn’t seem to talk to her. He had tried to compose about a million different texts to her, but nothing seemed right. He followed her Instagram and Facebook, but messaging her there felt like he’d just be sliding into her DMs, which made Lorcan’s skin crawl.

But, how had he not known about the breakup? How had he not known there was someone to break up with? She never said a word. Had she? He speared his fork through an egg and watched the clock. His computer system was up and running, but he realized after Elide’s haste and hatred in logging off yesterday, they never specified times for working today. He really thought 7:00 was too early to be video calling her. Mornings were not her thing. She’d probably shoot a virus through to his system. And if anyone could get one in his through his security protocols and firewalls, it was her.

He ran through a few of his other projects while waiting, sipping his coffee and watching the clock. As 8:30 rolled around, he logged into the chat portal to ask what time they should start. As he was typing the first words, the screen lit up with a message:

>> Okay, Salvaterre. What time are we doing this?

He smirked at the sass in those eight words.

<< Whenever you want, Lochan. I’m all set up.

>> Gimme 5.

He chuckled as he imagined her getting her area cleaned off, checking her hair, and taking deep breaths before logging on.

The 3-tone alert for a video chat came through and Lorcan switched the camera and mic on. Here we go.

…

Elide scrambled to get her hair pulled into a semi-decent bun on her head. She was at least wearing a nicer sweater this morning, even if she was still rocking glasses and no-makeup. Deeming her work area decent enough to be seen on camera, she grabbed her iced coffee and pressed the call button.

Deep breaths. Deep. Breaths.

Lorcan Salvaterre was on this planet to torment her, she was sure of it. They’d been… acquaintances? Friends? Something? Ever since Aelin and Rowan had started dating, Elide and Lorcan were along for the ride. They had a lot in common. It was so easy to talk to him. They had fun together. He made her laugh. She soon wondered how easy it would be to date. To hold hands, to kiss, to… everything. But he’d never seemed interested in more than whatever it was they’d been, so she went on dates. She went out with other guys and even a few second dates. Then a real relationship. For a few months anyways. She was sure she’d told him about it.

Anyways, who asks someone else out while they’re crying from a break up? And while they’re buzzed? Ridiculous.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty. Nice of you to join me,” Lorcan crooned, eyebrow raised, small smile on his face. She was not a morning person. Never had been. And he knew it.

“Can we not? I haven’t even finished my coffee yet and it’s too early for your….your… it’s just too early…” She groaned at not even being able to formulate snark this early.

“What you’re drinking - that’s not coffee. It’s cream and sugar pretending to be all grown up.”

“Oh, yes, because your pretentious single-sourced pour-over makes you an expert,” Elide sniped back. Lorcan always drank the strongest, blackest coffee and it was always some single-origin that he had various methods for brewing.

It would be too easy to fall into their banter. Too easy to believe he wasn’t an asshole. She needed some distance between them before it got too comfortable.

“So, I’ve been asked to make sure support services on the public side and the internal side secure and protect privacy rights. Here’s how we’re currently trying to keep that up,” Elide said as she launched into discussing protocols, servers, firewalls, identity management systems, and anything else they thought was necessary.

Lorcan was all business, professional to a fault, and courteous as they shared information. He asked great questions and traded scenarios with her. They worked for several hours getting a feel for what each department offered and wanted.

At noon, Elide’s stomach rumbled, drawing a chuckle from Lorcan.

“Geeze, El, hiding a gremlin over there? Go eat. We can pick up after one, yeah?”

She scowled back at him. Teasing her and using a nickname? Nope. “Sure, Salvaterre,” she said shortly, trying to put distance back between them. She almost felt guilty when she thought he looked startled, but his face went back to it’s neutral, calm, emotionless expression. She logged off the video chat and rubbed her hands over her face. How was this ever going to work?

…

As the chat window went dark, Lorcan sighed through his nose. He tried. He still had no idea why her ire with him went that deep.

Lorcan strolled to his kitchen to get his protein shake ready. Before he could start the blender, his phone chimed. He swiped at the screen to read the messages.

Young Pup: So, old man, how’s the “partnership” going?

Lorcan sighed again. Fenrys somehow knew he and Elide were working together. This couldn’t be good.

Sarge: Fine.

He watched the three dots bounce and disappear a few times.

Young Pup: Elide’s not got your balls in a twist yet?

Hawkeye has been added to the chat.

Lorcan groaned. Fen adding Rowan wasn’t a good sign either.

Young Pup: Ro, do we need to have an intervention with El? Two days working with the old man here and yet he’s alive and responding to our messages. Somethings wrong!

Hawkeye: Fen, knock it off.

Hawkeye: El’s a professional. I give it a week before we need to worry about her.

Lorcan rolled his eyes and didn’t even worry about checking Fenrys’ reply and put the phone on vibrate. He finished making his shake and walked to the living room. As he sat on the couch, his phone buzzed for a phone call. Glancing at the screen, Lorcan saw Rowan’s name at the top of the screen. He sighed and answered.

“I’m playing nice, I promise.”

Rowan laughed softly on the other end. “I bet. Look, Fen found out that you needed to work with their support services department and put two and two together about Elide. Aelin and I knew that Elide’s boss was going to ask you two to work together…” He trailed off, as if he didn’t know how to finish that thought.

“Just because we haven’t seen each other or spoken in months doesn’t mean I can’t do my job,” Lorcan said, a bite to his words.

“Hey, man, I know you can. It’s not that...It’s… Look, A is just worried. You two are Ellie’s godparents and you’re at odds right now. And I’m a little worried, too, about you both. You’ll let me know if things get worse, right?”

“Yeah, man, of course.”

“Good. And-” Rowan suddenly swore. “I gotta go. Ellie’s crying and A’s in the shower. Call me later and we’ll talk, yeah?”

“Sure.” Lorcan hung up. He looked at the time, downed his shake, and went back to his computers. Security systems and technology, those things he knew. People? Women? Foreign languages to him. He still couldn’t figure out why Elide was so pissed with him. Couldn’t figure out why Rowan and Aelin thought things would get worse. And now it was affecting his job.

It was going to be a long project.

#and they were zoomates #elorcan #lorcan salvaterre #elide lochan #elide x lorcan #tog au #modern au

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jilyawards · 4 years

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We have Reached our Final Round!

Congratulations to all the finalists! You can see the full list here, or under the read more!

To vote follow this link!

Good Luck All Finalists and Congratulations to all nominees!

Finalists!

Favorite Fluff

Cliche by @tumbledfreckles

An October of Unconventional Courtships by @ghost-of-bambi

Favorite Humor/Crack Fic

Welcome to Pettyville by @alrightginger and @women-inthe-sequel

An October of Unconventional Courtships by @ghost-of-bambi

Favorite Angst Fic

Golden Waltz by evanspotter

Bloody Knuckles Just For You by @lizardcookie

Favorite Au Fic

An October of Unconventional Courtships by @ghost-of-bambi

They Were Zoomates by @elanev91

Favorite Smut/NSFW Fic

Voyeur by @scriibble-fics

Such Hot Blooded by @lilymanaged

Control by @alrightginger

Favorite Multi-Chapter

Cliche by @tumbledfreckles

Come Together by @thequibblah

Favorite One-Shot

They Were Zoomates by @elanev91

About Last Night by @al-in-the-air

Favorite Drabble

Untitled by @jilydrabbles

The Most Brilliant Baby in the World by @magic-girl-in-a-muggle-world

Favorite Fic of the Year

We Can Be Heroes by @blitheringmcgonagall

Let Me Love You by @thejilyship

Favorite Artwork/Comic

“that smile” by @blvnk-art

“between classes” by @blvnk-art

Favorite Author

@tumbledfreckles

@alrightginger

@elanev91

Favorite Reviewer

@blitheringmcgonagall

@all-things-jily

Favorite Graphic Artist/Designer

@blvnk-art

@constancezin

#jily awards #jily awards 2020 #final round of voting #voting #jily

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ohemgeeitscoley · 4 years

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Ben Solo is the recently assigned editor for Rey Johnson’s book about star-crossed lovers in space when the world is turned upside down and stay home orders are issued. Ben and Rey begin working together over Zoom and their relationship grows.

Or, an and they were zoomates fic.

Based on this post.

He was definitely attractive. Which was not what she needed to be thinking about at the moment.

“Good morning, Mr. Solo,” Rey said, smiling politely as she held her hand up in a tiny, awkward wave.

“I would say Mr. Solo is my father,” he responded, shaking his head slightly. “But he also hates being called that.”

“Right, so, Benjamin then?”

“No, no, no, no,” Ben grimaced, as if the word personally offended him. “Ben. Just Ben.”

“Okay, just Ben,” Rey laughed softly. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, Ms. John-”

“Rey,” she interrupted him with a grin.

“Well, Rey, tell me about your book.”

#reylo #reylo fanfic #reylo fanfiction #reylo fic #reylo au #fanfic teaser #i am really excited to finish writing this and post it #it's SO CLOSE #i am doomed over these two #it is a problem

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zuppizup · 4 years

Note

#3 for zoommates and #4 for husk for the adk game, please!

3. Which part of [Zoomates] was hardest to write? Hmm, it’s a toss up between the jelly tart date and the most recent chapter. Both of them seemed like... self indulgent filler but were obviously super important to the story. I think though, the latest chapter was definitely the hardest. I procrastinated on the timeskip for aaaaages because it felt wrong to just go ‘boom, three weeks later!’ but I also felt liked we’d gone through text message/phone flirting before (like 12 chapters of it!) and I didn’t want to rehash that AGAIN. And also because I did not have chapter after chapter of After Hours in me to... finish those phone calls, which is pretty much the only way I saw them ending. 😅 So, timeskip it was and up-coming references to what happened in those three weeks in later chapters. 4. If you could change anything in [Husk], what would it be? The ending...? To be super evil. The final scene between Callum and Rayla was actually the first thing I wrote when I decided to change it from a oneshot to a multi-chapter, but occasionally, as I was nearing that scene, I wondered whether a sad ending would be more fitting. I was anxious that the ending I had envisaged would be way too low key and anticlimactic, so I had a few alternate super angsty endings floating around my head. I might actually write one or two of them when I get around to revising the story. Maybe I release them on tumblr as a sort of ‘choose your own adventure’ style thing.

Ask Game!

#captainjamba #ask game #thanks for the ask!

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constancezin · 4 years

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Hi! Once you get this you have to say five things you like about yourself, publicly, then send this to ten of your favourite followers (non-negotiable) SPREAD POSITIVITY 💌😘

Thank you @elanev91 for asking! But i've already answered this. So instead i decided to share my 5 favourites fic you've written so far. It was a really hard work as you're a great author (and i admit to my shame that I haven't read your multi chapters fic yet) anyway here is my selection

Force of Habit (so sweet and i love that you made them take time and many encounters before they fall in love. The fluff and the sadness were so well written!)

Hearts Don't Break Around Here

Perfect (I cheat but they are the two side of the same coin)

Sense-ational (Yeah, I've a huge soft spot for canon compliant stories)

I'm an Exhibitionist (it remind me this story when i was 6 or 7 years old we went with my class to visit a military base. The aspiring segond lieutenant (or something like that i'm not in the militaria) who made the visite was 20 or 22 years old he was cute and nice and patient (just like James) and all the little girls were in love with him, including me of course!)

And at last but not least

they were zoomates

of course it's not a horse race so I give it in a random order!

#jily #jily fic #mutual love #respect to the author

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stucky-ficrecs · 4 years

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Completed WIPs, June 2020

The Color Of Blood by MonsieurBlueSky (MyChemicalRachel) (T, 9K)

8:31pm by justforme23 (T, 1775)

Otherkind by MizDiablo (E, 65K)

Toothpaste Kisses by buckybees (T, 19K)

Try Me On For Size by fandomfluffandfuck (E, 7K)

where else would we go by kocuria (G, 1433)

A Higher Epsilon by deadto27 (E, 91K)

Red Carpet Rescue Mission by darter_blue (E, 10K)

Encouragement and Persuasion by orphan_account (NR, 36K)

The Discovery by fandomfluffandfuck (E, 5K)

Siberia by CC99trialanderrorgirl (E, 10K)

A Study In Steve Rogers' Stupidity by TheGameIsOver (T, 8K)

He Wears It Well by roe87 (E, 15K)

Nothing colder than being alone by lalalalalahahahahaha (M, 4K)

Heavy Lies the Head by inflomora, odetteandodile (M, 60K)

The Safer Course by seapigeon (M, 8K)

Broken memories by mcuwhore (G, 26K)

Very, Very Easy To Be True by Whendoestheshipsail (AO3 login required) (E, 57K)

Paradise Lost (& Found) by JJK (M, 121K)

Latte Art and Slow Dancing in the Dark by deadonarrival for The Twitter Collaborative (E, 90K)

“Hey, Sarge, you got a dame?” by rox_fanfics (T, 3K)

Out Of Order by Marvel_Mania (E, 19K)

Bucky Makes Cheesecake for Clint's Birthday Dinner by E_Greer (M, 8K)

way far beyond by squirmingbubbles (T, 7K)

Third one's the charmed by NatyCeleste (E, 12K)

When The World Was At War (we just kept dancing) by PeachyKeener (E, 41K)

Renegades by crinklefries (M, 142K)

Phase One: MechAvengers Assemble by DarkFairytale (T, 51K)

Podfic for "Dinner for Two" by Dira Sudis by MsPooslie for Dira Sudis (dsudis), hpismyhomeboy (E, 22)

Take Me Home by fandomfluffandfuck (NR, 5K)

cradling the flame by astudyinsolitude for ZepysGirl (E, 17K)

Brooklyn Syndrome by lordelannette (E, 158K)

They Were Zoomates!!! by Written_prose_things (G, 4K)

college 101 by mareviils (E, 14K)

Under the Table and Dreaming by Daretodream66 (M, 76K)

So. You want to know more about the A/B/O universe. by moonythejedi394 (M, 13K)

Corrupted by nerdyrose24 (T, 3K)

The Comeback Kid by grimeysociety (E, 169K)

Latitude Zero by Madara_Nycteris (E, 27K)

why would i shake your hand (when i could shake your bed)? by mediocre_fanfics (NR, 23K)

in the ruins of our worlds by made_of_sunshine (T, 56K)

Old Friends, New Problems by BFab (NR, 14K)

A Perfect Prescription by thewaythatwerust (E, 45K)

I Call Out Your Name, It Feels Like a Song I Know So Well by breatheforeverypart (M, 21K)

two gentlemen of brooklyn by rooonil_waazlib (E, 8K)

Baby Seasons Change But People Don't by fandomfluffandfuck (NR, 6K)

put you on something new by howdoyousleep, the1918 (E, 14K)

Raging War Within by softboibarnes (E, 124K)

Any Day We Can Wash Out To Sea by ashdeanmanns (NR, 26K)

entropy by truehumandisaster (NR, 4K)

Starting Over by Annaelle (T, 50K)

Everybody's a Dreamer by powerfulowl (StuckyFlangst) (E, 13K)

Quality Wood by cloudycelebrations (G, 600)

#completed wips

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artnstuffkat · 4 years

Photo

I don't really like how this turned out, but here’s Tweek from “Omg, they were zoomates!” Craig is coming, too, but probably not this weekend.

I did take some liberties, such as mashing all the rooms together and getting Tweek’s clothes to fit the warm colors. I hope you like it all the same, @lonereedy ! :)

#tweek tweak #sp creek #sp tweek

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summerofspock · 4 years

Link

Chapters: 10/10 Fandom: Good Omens (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Beelzebub/Gabriel (Good Omens) Additional Tags: POV Outsider, Alternate Universe - Animals, Aziraphale and crowley are zoo animals, and gabe and bee are zoo interns, This is basically a disney movie, bearziraphale, pengley, Ineffable Bureaucracy (Good Omens), Alternate Universe - Teenagers, only outsider pov if we are talking azcrow, Humor, Fluff, omg they were zoomates Summary:

Gabe and Bee are hapless zoo interns just trying to wrangle Aziraphale and Crowley, a polar bear and penguin who won't stop breaking into each others enclosures.

Now complete!

#azcrow fic #my fic #ib fic #the wildest au in the west

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katieurah · 4 years

Text

Okay, so I prompted myself. Is that a thing? Do people do that? And, like, is that okay? Well, oops...

........

Elide wasn’t going to be able to stand one more minute of this meeting. She was OVER it, but apparently logging off a team video meeting was frowned upon if she wanted to keep her job.

“Where are we with chat support?” asked her boss. “I assume you have it set up already, right? Because that’s going to be an integral part...”

She tuned out the woman for the fifteenth time in as many minutes. Her boss really never expected an answer, and even if she did, whoever was speaking would get interrupted five words in.

Elide drew circles and flowers on the notebook tablet in front of her and tried to pass off like she was invested in the meeting. Galathynius Industries was partnering with Whitethorn Security Services, a move that was a long time in coming. What was killing everyone’s mood, progress, and general goodwill at this point was suspended travel between Wendlyn and Erilea and all major cities in each territory. Some politcal move over someone’s something getting sick during some posh meeting. So, rather than the three day intensive merger summit they all prepared for, everything was having to be done in by yesterday over video conferencing, emails, chats, and any thing else they could acces. All to make sure they met the precious deadline.

Elide wasn’t salty at all.

Finally, finally, Elide’s boss was closing the meeting. But, before Elide could log off for the day and curl up with wine and her book, she was called out.

“Oh, and Lochan, we’re going to need you to coordinate with WSS’ security tech. What’s his name? I’m sure I have it written in here somewhere.... “

Elide gulped, the edge of her vision blurring, as she rasped, “Salvaterre? I’m point-of-contact with Lorcan Salvaterre?”

“Yes, that him. Lorcan Salvaterre. Network and Secure Communications Specialist. Seems like a long title. I have no idea what his duties entail, but they wanted our online support services working with him, so....”

Elide could hardly hear the rest, just going through the motions to finally get done and away.

Lorcan.

Of all the....

She let out a frustrated growl as she slammed her laptop, wincing at her lack of care with it. But that man.... No one could get under her skin like him. In the kitchen, she poured herself a glass of wine, adding more than normal, and grabbed the emergency tiramisu from the freezer to thaw. It was going to be a long day tomorrow.

...

“Lochan. Well, well, what’s it been... six months? You look... like you’re doing okay,” Lorcan said, smirking as he took in Elide’s messy bun, glasses, make-up-less face, and hoodie through the video screen.

“Shove it, Salvaterre. It’s been seven months, which you would know if you paid attention to any one but yourself. I’m working from home during this shit-show, and since it was only you I had to meet with today, I thought why bother?” Elide’s temper got the better of her as she took in Lorcan’s smirk and polished appearance. Of course, with his security firm polo and no need for make-up, his messy bun and glasses came off looking fashionable and business casual. Of-freaking-gods-forsaken-course, she thought to her self.

They hadn’t spoken since Elspeth’s dedication ceremony. Elide’s cousin, Aelin, and her husband, Rowan, had invited all friends and family to watch their first born daughter be dedicated at Mala’s temple on her first birthday. Afterwards, they all went back to Aelin and Rowan’s home for drinks and dessert. Five scotch’s deep seemed like the best time for Lorcan to hit on Elide. Except Elide had just been dumped, crying in the kitchen with Aelin, and couldn’t help that her hormones thought tossing her wine in his face was a good choice.

“Easy there, sweetheart. It won’t do to throw a drink at your screen.”

“I’m sure I could ask Aelin to swing by and do it for me,” Elide crooned, her smile honey laced.

“Oh, I’m sure she would. But since she and Rowan are playing house right now, I think she’s a bit busy to worry about little ole me.”

Look, my boss wants me to work with you. Not me. Her. And I’m not about to lose my job or let Aelin and Rowan down by messing this partnership up because you can’t be a decent person for five seconds. Now, let’s call it a day before either one of us are called by HR, Aelin, or Rowan.”

She logged off the meeting with a vicious jab of her finger, missing the ability to slam a phone or door or storm away.

This project was either going to make her or break her.

Gods, she needed more wine.

#and they were zoomates #elide lochan #lorcan salvaterre #elorcan #elide x lorcan #tog au #modern au

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fredfilmsblog · 4 years

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Best of Original Cartoons: Oh Yeah! Cartoons [1998-2002]

"Original Cartoons since 1998" seemed to me like a cheeky, tiny joke to throw onto the first season crew party poster for my first series as an indie producer*. And before you know it, here we are in 2020.

Hanna-Barbera Cartoons, the studio I ran, was sold by its owner, Turner Broadcasting, to (now) WarnerMedia, and while I loved working for Scott Sassa and Ted Turner, I didn’t see a great future for myself inside the new behemoth. After a little wrangling, I quit H&B and started Frederator with an exclusive deal at MTV Networks to consult with the programming management and to produce cartoons for Nickelodeon.

My first project was a second big idea cartoon incubator in the mold of What A Cartoon! Nickelodeon had an early lead in changing the way cartoons for kids were made with Nicktoons (where my earlier consulting life had a small role in fomenting), but CEO Herb Scannell and production president Albie Hecht realized the network still had a ways to go with impacting the creative community and welcomed my approach which would expand their reach tremendously. It’s because of Herb and Albie (and CEOs Tom Freston and Judy McGrath) and their faith in what I could do for the company that my career as a producer really took off. Thanks folks!

Oh Yeah! Cartoons would eventually encompass 33 unique and talented creators and 57 original shorts over three seasons. The series would be structured around the original shorts and eventually 36 sequel shorts around selected creators and characters. Many of the creators (Butch Hartman, Bill Burnett, Larry Huber, Rob Renzetti, Pat Ventura, Zac Moncrief, Miles Thompson, John Eng) had worked with me over at Hanna-Barbera, and others came in on their own energy or were recommended by friends.

Most of the creators were making their first solo commercial cartoons ever, and Butch, Larry, Bill and Rob made their first series with the spin offs of their OY! shorts. Big score for them, their careers, and the crews of their shows. Virtually all of the OY! creators went on to senior creative roles at Nickelodeon and the other studios in Hollywood. That might be my most lasting creative legacy, completely aside from the cartoons themselves.

A few specific notes.

Larry Huber had been the supervising producer for What A Cartoon! and was my co-executive producer on Oh Yeah! He’s continued to be an indispensable trusted co-worker on all of of my shorts projects and not a few of our series.

Larry and Bill Burnett –a New York co-worker of mine in advertising before coming to Hanna-Barbera as a writer– went on to create the shorts and series for ChalkZone.

Butch Hartman created quite a few What A Cartoon! shorts but hit the jackpot with The Fairly OddParents from Oh Yeah! Completely aside from the other originals and directing he did on other OY! cartoons.

Rob Renzetti made six stellar originals for Oh Yeah! and his My Life as a Teenage Robot series still gets fan art and letters today.

One of the Oh Yeah! shorts that never got much attention was the adaptation of legendary Harvey Kurtzman’s comic strip Hey Look!, a series of one-page comic book fillers produced between 1946 and 1949 for Timely Comics. Harvey was the first editor of MAD, and created Little Annie Fanny for Playboy. For a quick minute I was the last owner of Kitchen Sink Press, a legendary comix imprint that was renowned for, among other things, reprinting classics. And Harvey was one of publisher Denis Kitchen’s favorites. I asked Vincent Waller, late of Ren and Stimpy, later a key player on SpongeBob SquarePants, to take a stab. He did an amazing job.

Seth MacFarlane got signed to do Family Guy pretty much the same week he handed in his Zoomates pitch. His roommate and creative partner Butch Hartman designed and produced the short while Seth went on to become Seth MacFarlane.

Still (almost completely missing)? Women and Black American creators. Wife and husband, Michelle and Eric Bryan, created the wonderful Skippy Spankerton, but that was still meager out of the 100 shorts I’d produced by 2002 (things would ramp up a lot five years later). Byron Vaughs represented African-American creators, but that would not increase almost at all over the years. A big big miss on my part.

Oh Yeah! Cartoons, my 2nd short cartoon incubator, started me off as an independent producer of cartoons 22 years ago. It’s been an amazing ride, with the honor of working with some of the greatest talents in modern animation.

BTW, here’s an article written at the time of the 1998 series debut on Nickelodeon, written by entertainment reporter Jefferson Graham, originally posted at USA Today.

.....

* Über producer/entrepreneur Norman Lear once said (in paraphrase) “There’s no such thing as an ‘independent’ producer, we’re all dependent producers.” Meaning that if we’re making a show/movie for a major platform, we producers need their money, which means we have to listen to their needs too, not just our own or our creator’s. Norman is right.

#Best of Original Cartoons #Oh Yeah! Cartoons #shorts incubators #Nickelodeon #1998 #1999 #2000 #2001 #2002 #shorts

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