#international train

[asiaphotostudio]

Malaysia, 1990 Padang Besar, Malaysia. パダン・ブサール駅 マレー半島縦断鉄道 Photography by Michitaka Kurata

[faerie-fang]

naruto’s cats omg guys don’t stareee

[hartkloppingen-ov]

I locked eyes with this guy in the train from Venlo to Düsseldorf on January 4th this year. I can't speak a word of Dutch and I'm rather shy so it never crossed my mind to make contact, but it went on for the whole train ride. He was tall, dark hair and dark beautiful eyes, maybe a shade of dark blue. I hated myself a bit for being so shy though I don't know if he just wasn't interested enough to make a move. In any case, I'm still thinking about it and I happened to find this profile searching for the tag "Venlo" like the hopeless romantic I am.

.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Lan Wangji Goes To Lotus Pier AU: Part 4: Deranged Bedfellows

(Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4.5)

[muwitch]

lord enver gortash + texposts

[2deadboys]

its always very funny to me in fic where Edwin works out Charles has feelings for him before Charles even works out what his own feelings are. And is just. waiting for Charles to catch up. Maybe a few subtle hints and situations along the way....

knowing someone so well you can figure them out before they figure out themselves etcetc.

[the-crooked-library]

On Horror, Queerness, Mirrors, and Dracula

Your wish is my command (you may or may not regret this). 

Here’s the thing - I love horror, and I love patterns, and I think the best horror is always in some sense symmetrical.  It might not be obvious, but what’s the point of staring into an abyss if you can’t see your own face reflected back?  The symmetry itself comes in any number of different twists, whether it is familial, communal, erotic, or individual, and most of these apply to Bram Stoker’s Dracula. 

The centre of our novel rests on the Harkers.  So, starting with Jonathan - his experience in Transylvania is a twisted version of his life back home.  Dracula is reserved but eloquent, seemingly caring and occasionally affectionate, he reads train schedules and they spend hours upon hours in conversation; which is a dark mirror to Jonathan’s train schedule-loving, passionate but serious Mina.  It may even be said that the Count is re-enacting a caricature of traditional heteronormative domesticity - he maintains the household, waits on his guest himself, and blows him kisses from the stairs.  His possessiveness of Jonathan is the only way a vampire like Dracula is capable of understanding the bond Jonathan shares with Mina.  The Count states that he, too, feels love; but he is written by a closeted gay man in the late 19th century, so his imitation of married life is both a lie and a tragedy.  He is a shorthand for forbidden, wrong, and corrupting desires. 

At the same time, Mina herself also has a same-sex connection in the beginning of the story, and her relationship with Lucy mirrors the relationship between Jonathan and Dracula.  They cling to each other, in a sense; despite being excited about the prospect of their impending marriages, there is some trepidation associated with this new stage in life.  A common part of a dowry used to be a shroud, simply due to the frequency at which Victorian wives died in childbirth soon after the wedding; and even provided a survival, the transition to married life was still a loss of innocence.  As such, Lucy’s affection for Mina is the last expression of her girlhood, and she herself is the personification of Mina’s.  Lucy is, therefore, the direct antithesis of the Count; her death and subsequent rising change Mina the same way that Dracula does Jonathan, establishing a firm duality between the Harkers and their respective vampires. 

The other characters are reflections of each other, as well; the suitors defend while the brides terrify, Van Helsing wants to preserve life while Renfield wishes to consume it - and even further, the old Hungarian lady cares enough about  a stranger to give Jonathan a cross for protection, while Lucy’s own mother lets Dracula into the house herself, selfishly ignorant of her daughter’s needs and the doctor’s orders.  Another parallel is drawn again between Jonathan and Renfield, who represents directly what he could have been, had he not escaped from Dracula’s grasp; which makes Renfield’s vehement, last-ditch attempt to protect Mina perhaps all the more poignant.  In him, she sees the resilience of Jonathan’s humanity; while he gets to see exactly what she could become after her turning  - in Dracula himself.  These dualities are integral to the story’s thematic structure, and therefore inextricable from each character’s development. 

There is really too much to say about each individual dynamic to fit into one rant, but for the current purposes, I can forgo the details.  They all converge as it is on Jonathan and Mina, and thus, the central theme of this story is devotion.  If Jonathan had truly broken, like Renfield, Mina would have stayed by his side; and if she had fully turned, like Dracula, he would have adored whatever shred of her still remained.  In madness and in death, in happiness and sorrow, in sickness and in health - until the echoes start to sound like wedding vows. 

@stripedshirtgay​

@bluberimufim​

[asterias-corner]

Every. Single. link is neurodivergent coded and you can pry that from my cold dead hands.

[momo-t-daye]

Revising Their Stars (8306 words) by Momo_T_Day Chapters: 2/2 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Sirius Black & Severus Snape, Sirius Black/Severus Snape, Sirius Black & Peter Pettigrew & James Potter Characters: Sirius Black, Severus Snape, James Potter, Peter Pettigrew Summary: Sirius is horribly terribly dreadfully bored now that dear cousin Narcissa has prohibited him from tormenting Severus Snape (despite every tantalizing opportunity Snape goes out of his way to provide!). Maybe helping Snape prepare for the upcoming Astronomy O.W.L. will be more fun than Sirius could have expected, Snape certainly seems to be learning something interesting during their tour of the stars. Or Sirius Black is not impressed with Severus Snape’s “#genius lifehacks” for a “#frugal life”

Or

This is the longest fic I've written and I probably spent too much time looking up old star charts and moon phases and comet visibility records but I love stargazing so the research stays in!

Follows "A most wretched raccoon" and takes place before "Bad taste in men"

Should I post the text here as well as on Ao3? I find reading easier on Ao3 for myself, but I do know I'm not very tech savvy...

[pedriscroquettes]

I have a thot... pedri 🤝🏼 body worship>>>

Him on his knees, kissing the length of ur body, etc etc🙈

anon… you’re so real for this.

• imo he seems like the giving type obviously he likes to receive but he needs to pleasure you first or else he can’t enjoy himself.

• i mean come on spanish men are the biggest whores on the planet he has experience. he knows that whoever he’s with has to be satisfied. he doesn’t want any of the people he sleeps with to go around and say he’s a bad fuck, it’d ruin his reputation.

• now let’s say your relationship is fresh and you’re sleeping together for the first time, you’re shocked that he puts you first. other guys just like to chase their high but not him, he wants to see you chase your high.

• he’s a tease obviously, he’s seen the tweets he knows people find him attractive, so he starts off by slowly lifting your shirt and kissing down your body.

• he makes sure to leave marks, lots of them. oh you wanted to wear shorts? forget it you’re all marked up. you wanna wear a crop top? nope, he’s left a trail of marks all the way down to your core and around your chest.

• sometimes you wonder how he’s managed to maintain his status of innocence within the other barca players when he’s far from it. you come to the conclusion that he only tells gavi about what happens at home because he’s the only one who teases you about it.

• “joder, cómo no quieres que te elogie cuando te ves así?” (fuck, how do you not want me to praise you when you look like this?)

• as soon as he gets on his knees you know you’re not going to stand straight for hours.

• this man appreciates human beauty and will praise you and adore you. he will make you feel like the only person in the world. after all he’s a gentleman.

[another-chaotic-bisexual-vampire]

with all the passionate monologues and crying about friendship istg the best, book-accurate adaptation of Dracula (besides @re-dracula, of course!) would be anime

[chaddavisphotography]

SkyConnect tram that connects the airport to the parking garage and rental car center.

[pedripics]

“Pedri como está Nilo?”

[dailywillwood]

Made by @onyx-colony

[buttherainbowhasabeard]

The Boys: Why the Gruesomest Show on TV Is Also One of the Greatest

Brash. Brazen. Bonkers. Brutal. Bloody. Bawdy. Bizarre. On the surface, 'The Boys' is a show I should absolutely loathe, yet I love it. Why? Because it’s like nothing else I’ve ever seen before, and that makes it exhilarating! 

In this day and age of remakes, reboots, sequels, and prequels, 'The Boys' is a revelation. It takes everything we’ve come to know and love about the superhero genre and turns it on its head. Actually, it smashes its head in and flies off, covered in blood, with a big grin on its face. 

This alone is a great antidote to the "superhero fatigue” that so many of us have been suffering from. With the DC Universe currently in a Chapter 1 reset, and the Marvel Cinematic Universe in the midst of a very busy Phase 5, ditching the genre (and all the films, TV shows, and spin-offs you have to watch to keep up with it) has been beyond tempting.

In showrunner Eric Kripke's cleverly subverted script for 'The Boys' (based on a comic book series by Garth Ennis and Darick Robertson), each superhero, or "supe,” as they are dubbed in the show, is a satirical spin on a classic DC or Marvel character, even down to their collective name, The Seven (based on the Justice League).

However, unlike the more moral idols it takes its inspiration from, 'The Boys' is an R-rated romp that explores the ramifications of giving ordinary humans superhuman powers. Behind all the muscled supersuits and PR-manufactured wholesomeness, our heroes have become outright antagonists, and the so-called vigilantes have become our (anti)heroes.

Soldier Boy is an angry and arrogant take on Captain America. Homelander is a narcissistic, sadistic, and volatile version of Superman. Queen Maeve is Wonder Woman, if she were reduced to a cynical sidekick. All-American girl Starlight is an amalgamation of Mary Marvel, Stargirl, and Dazzler. Kimiko possesses a feral quality akin to that of Wolverine. Tek Knight is a BDSM-obsessed Batman. Black Noir is a masked mercenary in the same vein as Deadpool (minus the sass). The Deep is a dumb, perverted parody of Aquaman, and A-Train is a reckless Flash or Quicksilver. They even have their own Nick Fury of sorts, in the form of Vought International SEO Stan Edgar.

In the era of corruption, celebrities, and social influence, real-life supes would definitely abuse their powers and gaslight the public into believing every bit of righteous bullshit that came out of their mouths. They only (and begrudgingly) do good deeds to get more follows and likes, and most don’t like each other either, viewing teammates and partners as competitors rather than comrades.

This dark, disturbing, and at times hilarious take on the genre is what makes the show stand out amongst the rest. It easily offends, distresses, traumatises, titilates, and grosses you out. But it’s not just done for headlines and shock value. Every single chaotic, cruel, and unpredictable action is there for a reason. It forms part of a character’s motivations, it propels the plot forward, or it sets up a new and exciting direction.

Casting is another ingenious ingredient in the supe soup that is 'The Boys'. Household names (Antony Starr, Karl Urban, Giancarlo Esposito, Jensen Ackles, Simon Pegg, and Jeffrey Dean Morgan, to name a few) are mixed in with relatively new names (Erin Moriarty, Karen Fukuhara, Tomer Capone, Dominique McElligott, Aya Cash, and Colby Minifie). However, all performances are stellar. There isn’t one specific actor who carries the whole show or steals every scene (although Starr can be the most mesmerising). As an ensemble, they all have a role to play, and they play it scarily and consistently well.

Every episode is an intense mix of gratuitous violence, gore, sex, nudity, language, and drug use. Characters engage in orgies, bodies are mutilated and torn apart, heads are blown clean off, religious views are ridiculed, and political agendas are exploited. There are supes who are sexist, supes who are homophobic, supes who are racist, supes who are ableist, and supes cloaked in woke ideology purely for the purpose of infiltration and manipulation.

That being said, and for a show that always feels one scene away from being banned, 'The Boys' has shown incredible restraint when it comes to its ending. Five seasons was what was planned, and five seasons is what it’ll be. Despite top ratings for each season, a loyal fanbase, rich source material, and the potential to introduce dozens more supes and storylines, 'The Boys' can clearly see the value of quitting while it's ahead, and I salute them for it.

I’m confident that the fifth and final season will be f**king diabolical, and I can’t wait!

[seeds-and-sins]

Light My Fire - Part Six

Pairing: Ben "Soldier Boy" x F!Reader

Rating: M (Crude Language, Curse Words, Sexism, descriptions of explicit sexual content)

Description: The Deep and Phoenix are sent to investigate a certain set of twins.

Tagged: @tonixe @chernayawidow, @deans-spinster-witchs-favorites, @ophennie @virgoelf-blog, @my-obsession-spn

Part Five

Sure. Soldier Boy understood you, but that didn't mean he really wanted you. It didn't mean that he would have chosen you over all else. He didn't care about you. When you think back on it, on the memories once lost in your head, now found, you were vulnerable. You allowed him into your heart when you shouldn't have. You knew better than to do that.

And Ben stuck. Ben attached himself to you like glue and you allowed it. Why would you allow that? Ben treated you so poorly back then, why would you allow him to get to you? A few words of sentiment, the exchange of an unsaid promise that was empty and forgotten. You had lived far too long to fall prey to such stupid sweet nothings. When Ben propped his chin on your head, when he wrapped his arms around you and told you that you were safe, you fell for it. How could you?

For years you tried to figure out what happened to him, and when you did Vought fucked you up worse than you already were. Why go through that for someone who didn't even care? Someone who would never choose you?

So, you chose John.

"You're not going to um..." Your droopy gaze shifted in the Deep's direction and the man's words crumbled with his composure. The Deep became a stuttering mess, eyes wide, a hard frown on his lips.

"What?" You breathed, swishing the glass of bronze liquid in your hand before bringing it to your lips for another sip. "Spontaneously burst into flames?"

"Um..." He cleared his throat. "Yeah."

"No. I'm not gonna' do that." Your eyes returned to the massive screen in front of you. The pixelated words had blended together, camera footage and images of Soldier Boy flooded the screen.

"Just making sure..." The Deep began, his adam's apple bobbed as he gulped. "You've been sitting here for a little bit, drinking."

"I can't get drunk so, it doesn't matter anyways."

"Yeah but, doesn't alcohol like-make you worse-I mean-"

"Shut up." You stated firmly, in a dead tone. You hadn't had many interactions with the Deep since you had arrived back at the tower all those months ago. What you did know was that you hated him. You didn't need to know much about him to know that he was a piece of shit. The news and tabloids agreed, but even more so, the way he weaseled a spot back into the Seven made you sick to your stomach. You thought Swatto was bad all those years ago. The Deep was worse. At least Swatto owned up to the horrible accusations, the Deep tried to pretend like nothing happened. Coward. "Can you look something up for me?" It wasn't much of a question as it was a demand. The Deep knew as much when he cast a side glance in your direction.

You kicked your feet up onto the desk, still dressed in your hero suit. You tucked the glass of whiskey in your lap and crossed your ankles.

"Sure-uh-what exactly?"

"Look up me." You stared intently at the screen, not flinching once at the expression on the Deep's face.

"Are you-"

"Look me up now." And the vigorous tapping of keys sounded through a devastating silence. Images of you popped up, old and new, as well as a few files and a short synapsis of information. "Hmm..." You sipped from the glass, calm and collected. "That's my name." You pondered, the Deep squinted at you.

"You didn't know your name?"

"I forgot my name. Last person to call me by it wants me dead." You shrugged, the tip of your finger tracing the lip of your glass. "I want to know something specific." Your voice was distant, you felt like you were hovering above your body looking in.

"O-kayy~"

"Pull up my file for the year 1994."

"1994?" The Deep muttered in confusion, a few moments passed in quiet as he scrolled across the search and clicked through files. He paused with a frown. "It's classified."

"Classified?" You spat, abruptly jerking up from your seat and slamming the glass down onto the desk. The Deep flinched, he held his hands up from the keyboard.

"Look, man, I don't know. It's just classified." You stood fully and crossed your arms, eyes skimming the screen, everything was blacked out.

"Open it then."

"That's not how it works. Some of this stuff needs security clea-"

"You're in charge of fuckin' security! Do it!" You fumed and the waves of heat rolling off of you were enough to send the Deep in motion. He was shaking as he tried to find a way into your information. The Deep wasn't suited for this job, but Homelander was convinced that the Deep was a useful pawn in his quest to takeover Vought. Just then, the Deep accidentally clicked a distant file and a video popped up on the screen. "Stop!" You leaned in. It was Vogelbaum, he was wearing a mask, speaking into a camera, sitting at a desk, your unconscious body was resting on an examination table in the background.

"Day Three. It is approximately eight in the morning, eastern time, on September 23rd, 1994." The quality of the footage was old. Voegelbaum was younger then. The mask muffled his voice, but you knew what he was saying. "After repeated attempts, I have concluded it to be impossible to harvest any cellular matter from Subject 665's body. Her skin is impenetrable to the extent that even the scraping of simple tissue matter is impossible. It is fascinating how the carbon monoxide weakens her thermodynamic abilities, but retains the sturdiness of her cellular structure as a result of those abilities. Attempts at transvaginal ultrasound aspiration have failed, but I have been in the process of creating a concoction that might be capable of targeting the cells in her body, making it easier to harvest the egg follicles residing in her ovaries." You cupped a handle over your mouth, tears peeking at the corners of your eyes. What did that mean? The pills?! You had been taking them for years, only having recently stopped. What did that mean?! "We will keep Subject 665 in containment for a little longer, given that Mindstorm's treatments toward her mental state continue to work."

The video ended.

"More!" You hissed at the Deep and he aggressively began typing away, when another video popped up:

You were sitting at a white table, all too familiar to you. You were dressed in a tank top and baggy sweatpants. Your hair was disheveled and your eyes were sunken and the light inside you was fading bit by bit.

"Phoenix," It was Vogelbaum, sitting somewhere outside of the camera's view, your neck craned back and you chewed anxiously at your bottom lip. "Do you recall where we started off last? Or would you like me to refresh your memory?"

"What do you want?" You whispered, your voice was shaky and you sounded like you were on the verge of tears.

"Tell me what first made you suspicious of Soldier Boy's death." You crossed your arms, eyes frantically looking around the room.

"It-It didn't seem right. Everyone was too normal."

"Your peers didn't seem to like him, so you can't blame them-"

"No. It just wasn't right." You blurted out, jabbing a finger at your chest. "I knew! I knew it wasn't right!"

"Okay, okay, calm down." Vogelbaum urged, you saw his hand enter the frame of the camera from across the table, but he didn't dare touch you and risk burning himself. "And what did you do after that?"

"I went to Nicaragua." You said, releasing a shaky breath.

"And what did you do there?"

"I-I-" Your looked away, hands now rested in your lap, twiddling your thumbs. "I needed to find out what happened."

"Of course," Vogelbaum chirped, "I expect no less."

"The locals didn't want to answer my questions." You lowered your head, Vogelbaum pressed further.

"And what did you do?"

"I killed some people."

"Some?"

"Okay..." You sighed, then timidly admitted, "I killed a lot of people."

"Is there a reason why Soldier Boy's death affected you so?"

"If he could die..." Your breath hitched, "Maybe I could too."

"Interesting." Homelander piped in from his place behind you. You had assumed he had been standing there for a while because he wasn't looking at you the same. You were like a damaged animal and he was your abusive keeper. "I'm sending the Deep and you to go check on the twins." The video continued running in the background, but John didn't seem to care about the images and sounds circulating from the screen.

"Why me?" You snapped, John blinked down at you with cold, steely eyes.

"You think the Deep can fight Soldier Boy head on?"

The answer to that was 'no', everyone knew that.

"I know he can't, but I would rather just leave him to die."

"Wow, that was heartfelt." The Deep blurted out, immediately regretting his sarcastic remark with a hand slapped over his lips.

"Phoenix." John sighed, placing a firm hand on your shoulder, a warning. "I need your help on this. We know Soldier Boy's next marks. This is our chance to get a jump on him."

"If he's half the man he was when I was working with him, we'll never get the jump on him." To anyone else, John was Homelander. To you, John was a boy. He had the same look of fear in his eyes now that he had the first time you introduced him to a crowd. It was overwhelming. You didn't blame John for being scared, but there was something else. There was always something else.

...

You dropped Deep onto the concrete pavement of a lengthy driveway. You were about twelve feet up, he hit the ground with a hard thud and plopped onto his side.

"Fuck!" He hissed, "Was that necessary?!" Phoenix ignored him as she lowered herself, clasping her hands behind her back as she considered the mansion in front of them. Oh, how she wanted to run through it like a knife to butter. These TNT twins lived in luxury after what they had done to Soldier Boy, after what they had done to you, and you would take that away from them first before taking away their lives.

"Come on, sea slug. We got business to take care of." The Deep trotted up to your side, albeit wincing and rubbing at his arm.

"What did I do to you?! Hmm?" He had somehow gained the courage to confront you, when now wasn't really a good time. "I've been good to you."

"You sexually assaulted and raped dozens of woman, and you want to know why I don't like you? That's funny." You said in a dead and even tone that must have sent chills down the Deep's spine because he stopped walking. You approached the mahogany doors, glaring at them, feeling the fire burning in your blood. "You're going to have to do the talking."

"What? Why? Weren't these guys on your team all those years ago?"

"I want to kill them." The Deep gulped, nervously stuttering out nothing before nodding his head and bringing a fist to the door.

"Yeah, I'll do the talking." As you were waiting for the door to open, you couldn't help but get the feeling that you were being watched. The mansion was surrounded by a large plot of land, a sparse tree line bordering it. It could have been nothing, but then also it could have been something. Even with pretty much every part of yourself being 'superhuman', you never had the ability to hear someone's heart beat or see through solid objects. The most you could do in that regard was focus really hard and you might be able to detect nearby heat sources. And that was if you focused really hard. But what you did have was a sixth sense. Your old team used to comment on it all the time. You always had a feeling that something was going to happen before it did. You could always feel when something was off, not right. It was how you knew that Soldier Boy never really died in Nicaragua, it was how you found John in that lab all those years ago, and now, it was how you knew that something was about to happen. Something big.

What if Soldier Boy was here? What if that was why Tommy and Tessa weren't answering the door? Maybe Soldier Boy had already killed them? Your anxiety spiked. You weren't ready. You thought you were, but you weren't. You were anything but ready. What if he was the one that answered the door? What would you do?

You weren't the same person. Neither of you were the same person. He wanted you dead.

"Jesus Christ. Knock again." You crossed your arms, cape swaying behind you, your eyes frantically tracing the tree line once more. The Deep knocked, hitting the door a little harder this time. The door swung open. Music emanated from inside, loud moans and screams of pleasure and booming conversations and-

No. Fuck no. It couldn't be...

They were still doing this shit?

Tommy and Tessa were standing there. Tessa was wearing a leather dominatrix-esque outfit and Tommy was wearing a golden robe and a pair of dirty looking boxer shorts. They both looked aged. Old and worn down. Part of you envied Tessa's wrinkles and Tommy's grey hairs and you wanted that, but it was only a distant thought before you tuned in. They were pleased when they saw the Deep, but the moment their twin eyes landed on you, you could noticeably see the fear blossom in their very souls. Good, you thought, they should be afraid.

"The Deep..." Tommy began, "Captain of the Seven Seas, and..." Tommy choked, eyes wide as he looked you up and down.

"Phoenix." Tessa said cooly, nursing her cigarette. She was as tough looking as she was when you first met her, attempting to put on the persona that made her seem ruthless and brave. But Tessa was terrified, and you knew it better than anybody. You fed off of their fear like a lion did their meat and you were starving for it. "Long time no see."

"Well..." The Deep cleared his throat. "Sorry to drop in like this unannounced."

"Not at all, um-" Tommy froze up again at the sight of your unflinching stare, honed in on him. "We were having a bit of a celebration." He chuckled nervously, clapping his hands together. "You guys are welcome to come on in." Before the Deep could speak, Phoenix piped in:

"You know who started Herogasm?" Tommy glanced at Tessa, they sent each other uneasy looks. "Soldier Boy. You remember him, right?" This smile crept up onto your face, plastered on, hard and sharp.

"Yeah." Tessa snorted, shrugging. "Figured we'd keep the tradition alive. Why not?"

"Hmm." You sighed, stepping forward and scooping Tessa and Tommy in your arms and into a tight hug. Your head was between theirs, they stood stiff like wooden boards. Neither of them were strong enough to protest. "So good to see you guys again." You leaned back, a hand on either of their shoulders and you held them in place, looking between them with that same smile. "I just wanted to let you guys know that I know." Tessa squinted at you, she had dropped her cigarette in fear when you looped them into your death hug.

"I'm sorry?" She whispered with a wince. Tommy chewed his bottom lip.

"K-K-Know what?"

"Everything." Your whispered back as your grin widened. You didn't have to have super hearing to know that Tommy's heart skipped.

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