#well. this movie was certainly something!!

[confused-pyramid]

Breaking Point

pairing: art donaldson x fem!reader

summary: You and Art were hitting partners (and a bit more) in college, so when you run into him a decade later at the U.S. Open, old sparks reignite...

word count: 3.4k

warnings: SMUT, p in v, oral (fem!receiving), slight marking, drinking

a/n: I watched Challengers last night and then wrote this whole thing in one sitting. Nothing in this is really canon other than Art being a major simp lol so no spoilers for the movie! I usually make playlists (or at least find a few songs that get me in the zone) when writing, so I thought I'd start sharing them here too if people are interested!

You should've known he'd be here. You've been following his career for the last decade since you graduated, and ever since he won Wimbledon last year, he's been tennis royalty, but a small part of you still thought you wouldn't run into him here. At the fucking U.S. Open.

Stanford was a lifetime ago, and you haven't kept in touch with anyone from the college team, but there was always something about Art Donaldson that stuck with you. Ten years later, that hasn't changed.

"It's been so long," he calls out when he spots you from across the practice courts. "I didn't think I'd see you."

You didn't either, and you still haven't decided how you feel about it yet, but when he jogs over to your side, you just shrug. "Guess it's your lucky day."

He smiles, and his teeth glimmer in the bright sunlight. "It certainly is."

The loud thwacks of tennis balls hitting rackets echo around you, but you can't seem to focus on anything but the man standing in front of you. He looks good.

He was beautiful in college too, whether he was training across the net or slipping into your bed, but it feels different now, with so much time apart. He looks like a man now.

"Anyway," Art says, jerking you back to reality. "We should get a drink sometime. To catch up."

He adds the last part almost as an afterthought, but it doesn't escape your notice how his eyes have been trailing up and down your body since he walked over.

A drink could mean almost anything with Art Donaldson, but you're too curious to refuse. "Sure. This weekend, after the semi-finals."

He nods, his eyes glinting with amusement, and you grab your bag from the bench beside you before looping the strap over your shoulder.

You walk off the practice courts after one last glance over your shoulder, and you feel his eyes following along until the doors swing shut behind you.

***

He should've expected this. You were a firecracker in college, and you kept him on his toes every single day you were together, so he really should have known what he was getting into when he met you for drinks that weekend.

Instead, he's one too many beers in, and his buzz is only enhancing the glow of your beauty in the hazy bar light. Your dress isn't even that low cut, but something about the shadows glancing over your strong shoulders reminds him of late nights in the Stanford dorms after a hard practice when there was only one thing he wanted more than sleep.

"You played really well this morning," he says genuinely as he sets his beer back onto the table. "After that first set, Mueller didn't stand a chance."

You flash him a dazzling smile as you shrug, resting your chin on your palm. "I had her after the third game, but thanks. It was a quick match."

Art hasn't taken his eyes off of you since you sat down, and while prolonged eye contact usually makes you nervous, you find that you're actually enjoying the attention quite a bit. Attentiveness was never an issue with him, and you would normally give in to your urges, but there's just too much history with him, and you can't afford to lose focus. Not when the title is so close you can taste it.

"I hear the networks are eyeing you for a commentator post," you say, trying to change the subject.

You trace your finger around the rim of your nearly empty margarita, before lifting it to take a final sip, and you don't miss how his throat bobs as you lick the salt off your lips.

"Uh, yeah," he mumbles, clearing his throat. "It was just some chatter, but I'm not looking to retire anytime soon."

You frown. "Is that right?" He's playing better than ever, but he definitely hasn't been himself out on the court in years.

He glances down, clearly trying to avoid the scrutiny, and when his eyes land on your empty glass, he changes the subject again. "You want another drink?"

You shake your head, knowing that another will lead to a less than fun morning, but he isn't done yet.

"You sure?" His eyes find yours again, and this time the eye contact feels primal. "It doesn't have to be here."

Your eyebrows lift and you tilt your head with a knowing smile. "Where were you thinking?"

"I don't know," he shrugs, before his lips curve up into a cheeky grin. "My room's nice."

You saw it coming from a mile away, but it still pulls a laugh out of you. "Oh, I'm sure it is, but this isn't college anymore, Art. You should get some sleep...focus on your match in the morning."

You push your glass forward and stand up, nodding at him as you turn to leave, but then you see him stand too out of the corner of your eye.

"I'll walk you to your car."

He looks at you with a hint of amusement in his expression, and you can't help but want to play along, even though Art Donaldson was nothing but trouble for you.

You don't respond, instead just stepping out from around the table and walking out the front doors of the bar. You don't have to turn back to know he's right behind you, and when you reach your car, parked in the center of the nearly empty parking lot, you spin around.

He doesn't stop walking until he has you practically boxed in by your driver's side door, his face less than a foot from yours as he tucks his hands into his pockets.

He had pushed his sleeves back at some point in the night, from the humid summer heat of the bar, and you can see the veins on his forearms now, under the dim light of the street lamps.

"This is me," you say jokingly, tipping your chin at your car as he looks at you with an expression you can't distinguish. "I'm good from here."

He doesn't move.

It's not that you expected him to give up so easily; you had just forgotten how persistent he could be.

Art's mouth stretches into a slanted smile. "Do you remember the Davis Invitational? Junior year."

Speaking of his persistence...he had been pursuing you for months, not in any tangible way, but you always knew what he was thinking.

After the invitational, where you and Art had been the respective men's and women's champions, you had gone back to his dorm to celebrate. Three hours and just as many vodka shooters later, he had finally gotten you in his bed. Not that you were complaining.

Art knew his way around your body, and even that first night, he had managed to get you off more times than you can remember.

"What about it?" you shoot back, your eyebrows raising at the insinuation.

"Nothing," he says with a shrug, but you don't miss the humor glinting in his eyes. "You just used to be a lot more fun to celebrate with."

"Fuck you," you spit out, shoving his shoulder harder than you mean to. He barely budges, instead grabbing your hand and tugging you a few inches closer, and suddenly a wave of lust washes over you, making your breath hitch.

You press your thighs together under your dress, hoping he can't feel the heat spreading across your skin, but then his smile turns to a smirk and you know you're done for.

"What do you think?" he whispers, leaning in so close that his lips brush over your earlobe. "Want to celebrate?"

Molten lava pools in your gut and you are only peripherally aware of his hand sliding down your hips to the flowy edge of your dress. His fingers glide over your skin as his hand goes under the loose fabric, before rising up to grab your ass, drawing your hips flush with his.

Your arousal is already starting to soak through your panties, but the feeling of his hard bulge pressed up against you sends you flying back to reality.

You lift your hands to his chest and push him back so that he's a few steps away from you. It's not far enough, but at least you can't feel him from there. "I'm not fucking you, Art."

He shrugs, his smirk only slightly shaken. "Who said anything about fucking? I just wanted to talk."

You huff out a laugh. "You're funny. Besides, I'm too tired for this. I need to rest up before my match."

"What about tomorrow night then?" His lip is still curved up in a smirk, but there's an earnestness in his gaze that surprises you.

"What makes you think you'll still be here tomorrow?"

His mouth spreads into a wide smile. "I always win."

You snort. "Fine. Win your match and we can talk."

You don't miss the grin on his face as you climb into your car and leave.

***

You win your next match in straight sets again, so by the time you're out of the locker room, Art's match is still in play. Driven by a mixture of curiosity and intrigue, you head over to his court and find a seat halfway up the stands.

He has won two of three sets, and he's leading the fourth, so with the prospect of the match ending soon, you use the time to observe him from a different angle.

His form is much better than it was in college, and you've seen him play countless times on TV, but you haven't really let yourself see how good he looks out there. The sinewy muscles rippling in his arms as he lifts them to serve. The rugged sturdiness of his legs as he races back and forth across the court.

You wish you could be down there with him, running your hands over the smooth lines of his abdomen, tasting the drops of sweat as they roll down his body-

The crowd erupts in cheers, and you are thrust back into reality as Art throws his arms into the air with a loud whoop. The scoreboard confirms his victory, and you clap along with the audience as he shakes his opponent's hand and heads over to his chair.

People around you stand up to leave, but you stay in your seat, watching as he grabs his bag and stuffs his rackets inside. When he wipes a towel over his face, his head turns up and his eyes immediately go to you, like he knew you were here the whole time.

Your stomach does an involuntary flip and he flashes his eyebrows at you as you bit the inside of your lip, trying to hold back a smile.

When he ducks back down to grab his things, you stand up quickly to avoid letting him see your blush and follow the rest of the crowd off of the stands.

***

You hear it late that night. Three little raps on your hotel room door, just before midnight.

You're in the finals, and you don't have any friends here to celebrate with, so you were sipping a beer and watching old match recordings when you heard the knock.

There's no one else who would come to see you this late, so you're not surprised when you open the door to find Art, dressed in a tee shirt and comfy-looking pajama pants.

"What are you doing here?" you ask, even though you already know the answer.

Art just looks at you, his pupils already massive. "You said if I win, we could talk." He shrugs. "I won."

"Okay," you concede, opening the door wider to let him in. "Just talking then."

He nods, before following you inside and shutting the door.

"You want anything to drink?" you ask as he trails behind you.

He shakes his head. "I'm good."

You grab your beer bottle from the side table and sit down on the floor, crossing your legs beneath you.

Art sits across from you, his feet in front of him and his elbows on his knees. You were assigned to a modestly sized room, but for someone as tall as him, the space must feel cramped.

"How did the match feel?" you ask, taking a swig of beer.

He thinks for a moment. "It was close at first, but once I shook my legs out, it became a breeze."

"Your legs were never the problem," you say, leveling him with a serious look. "It was always your attitude. Or your confidence."

He frowns, his eyebrows scrunching slightly. "I'm plenty confident."

"You are now," you tell him as you swirl the bottle around in your hand. "You won Wimbledon, you have a reason to be confident."

That makes him smile. "So you're saying my legs are fine."

"Yeah," you say before you can process what you're saying. "You looked good out there."

His smile turns to a smirk so fast it nearly gives you whiplash. "You think I look good?"

You let out an exasperated scoff. "At tennis."

His grin doesn't falter so you roll your eyes at him before lifting the bottle to your lips to take another swig. When you tilt the bottle back down to swallow, his hand reaches forward to take it from you. Your grip on the beer doesn't loosen, so the motion sends you pitching forward.

Your mouth parts with a small yelp as his arm wraps around you, tugging you closer, and before you can process what's happening, his lips are on yours.

If you let yourself think too hard, you would realize that there is way too much shared history and way too much baggage here for this to be a good idea...so that's why you don't.

Instead, you let him pull your body flush against his and when his tongue slides over the seam of your lips, you grant him access immediately. Your shirts come off in quick succession and you gasp as his hands run up and down your body, his strong, calloused fingers grasping at every inch of purchase they can find. Yours reach up to tangle in his messy hair, and when his lips move down your neck, your grip tightens, making him moan quietly against your skin.

Something about being on the floor takes you back to your college days, when you'd both be so worked up after practice that you couldn't even make it to the bed, but that feels too real right now.

"Art," you whisper as he runs his lips and teeth over your neck, before replacing it with his tongue to soothe the quickly blossoming marks. "Art, the bed. Now."

It takes him a second to process your words, but when he does, he loops an arm around your waist and lifts you up and onto the bed in one motion, before pushing you back onto the covers.

By the time your head hits the bed, he's already pulling your shorts and panties down, exposing you to the cool air. His lips follow the path of his hands as they trace up your legs, making you squirm under the hot touch of his rough fingers. He presses wet kisses to the insides of your thighs before spreading them apart and dropping to his knees on the floor in front of you.

"So wet for me," he whispers, almost to himself, before he dives in, his mouth making lewd noises as he licks a thick stripe up your core. "You taste so good."

He lifts your legs over his shoulders to give himself some leverage as he makes a mess between your thighs, licking and sucking your clit into his mouth before fucking you with his tongue.

His grip on your thighs is the only thing keeping you pinned to the bed as you writhe beneath him, trying to not squeeze your legs together from the heat spreading up your core.

His mouth feels amazing and it takes only minutes before you're already nearing the edge. You don't want to come until he is inside of you, though, so you yank his hair, pulling him up and off of you.

He looks up at you through his lashes, and he looks ethereal with his disheveled hair and his chin wet with your slick.

You, on the other hand, look like heaven itself with your eyes half-hooded from pleasure, and he can't help the grin that crosses his face as he licks his lips and climbs over you onto the bed. He lets you taste yourself as he kisses you again, and he lets out a low groan when you bite his lip just hard enough to sting.

"Fuck me," you gasp, your voice too breathy to be actually authoritative. "Fuck me the way I like."

Art grins at your desperate tone and the wild lust in your eyes, committing this image to memory for a later time when you're much further away.

He kicks his pants off as he lifts you both further up the bed, and after covering himself with a condom from his back pocket, he lines himself up and slowly pushes forward.

He gives you a few moments to adjust to his size before slowly pulling out nearly all the way and then thrusting in again.

The slight pain turns to pleasure almost immediately, but he keeps his pace steady so as not to hurt you. You need more right now, so you wrap your legs around him for leverage and flip him over so that you're straddling him.

He groans as his head hits the pillow, and when he tries to sit up, you press your hands to his chest, pushing him down as you ride him. This position gives you a lot more control, and you use it to your advantage as you bounce yourself on his cock, feeling the way he fills you up so fully from this higher angle.

His fingers dig into your hips as he helps lift you up and down, and his eyes are practically feral as he watches the spot where his cock disappears inside of you.

He's the perfect size to fill you up completely, and with each swivel of your hips, you get closer and closer to your climax, which is approaching so fast you can taste it.

You cry out when he hits exactly the right spot deep inside of you, and his eyes fly to yours as your movements start to stutter from your impending release.

Needing to see the look on your face when you come, he pushes your lower back forward so you fall against his chest, before lifting himself up to meet you halfway. With one arm locked around you, he brings his other hand down between the two of you to rub quick circles over your clit. The new angle lets him thrust up into you, and the increased pace of his movements mixed with the speed of his fingers sends you flying over the edge.

Your mouth falls open with a loud cry, and you squeeze him so tightly he's practically seeing stars. You look so beautiful when you come, like a goddess sent down here just for him, and when your eyes meet his, he finds his own climax.

His body jerks forward with the force of his release, and you let him thrust a few more times as he finally finishes inside of you.

After pulling out, he tugs you down to lay next to him, and at first you let him, but the emotions warring inside of you don't stay quiet for long.

You know that whatever this was isn't going to go anywhere. You didn't work in college, and you won't work now, and you don't want anyone to get hurt again, so you have to make a choice. Now.

"I need to get some rest," you say quietly, a tiny part of you hoping he doesn't hear you. "Before the next match."

"Yeah," he sighs after a beat. "Me too."

You let him hold you for a moment longer, before he unwraps himself from your body and sits up, tugging his shirt and pants back on. You tug the sheet back and wrap it around your torso as he stands up and walks to the door.

You're not sure what you're expecting as he goes to leave, but what you get is a silent nod as the door swings shut behind him.

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Veronica Lake (I Married a Witch, Sullivan's Travels)—her look is so iconic they used her as a visual model for jessica rabbit in who framed roger rabbit and a bunch of other femme fatale types in cartoons and live action alike. i didnt think i liked women and then i saw her in sullivans travels and said gee i hope this doesnt awaken anything in me! every role ive seen her in she absolutely oozes an aura of "i know people would ask me to step on them" and her EYES bro every photo ive looked at for this submission its like shes piercing thru time and space to judge me <3

Eartha Kitt (Anna Lucasta, St. Louis Blues)—My friend and I have a saying: NOBODY is Eartha Kitt. A thousand have tried, and they've all come up empty and will continue to do so. Everyone knows her for something: from "Santa Baby" to Yzma in Emperor's New Groove to Catwoman to making Lady Bird Johnson cry for the Vietnam War. She was a master of comedy and sex, an extremely vocal activist, and she aged like fine wine... I honestly don't know what I can say about her that hasn't already been said, so I'll stick to linking all my propaganda. Like what else do you want from me. She was iconic at everything she ever did. Literally name another. How can anyone even think of her and not want to absolutely drown?

This is round 5 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Veronica Lake:

Her HAIR, her FIGURE, her VOICE, the way she wore LEATHER AND SANG SONGS FOR NO REASON.

I don't believe there's a person on earth who can watch Veronica Lake in I Married A Witch and not be struck by how gorgeous she is. She had that youthful wonder about her that almost every Hollywood starlet was trying to achieve. Her hairstyle (peekaboo bangs) became an iconic Hollywood style after she popularized it, and made her signature look all the more suggestive. Also, witches are tumblrs favorite!

ICONIC hair sweep

The US government literally begged her to change her hairstyle because it was TOO HOT to handle and women who copied it were getting their hair caught in machinery

Her hairstyle was so iconic and popular that the war department had to come out with a PSA instructing lady ironworkers with ways they could pin their hair up to avoid it getting bound in machinery. [https://veteranlife.com/military-history/veronica-lake/]

She played a lot of femme fatale roles but my favorite is Sullivan’s Travels opposite Joel McRea, which is a comedy. She became famous for her hair style at the time—she wore it long and parted on one side so it would fall over half her face in a very sexy way. They called it a peek-a-boo I think. You’ve definitely seen Bugs Bunny dressed up like her, so I think if she’s being honored in such a way she’s very cool.

look at her

she's GORGEOUS in her little witch outfits that she wore for promos and also in the oversized coats and pajamas she wore throughout the movie...she's got RANGE

My Grandpa supposedly dated her in high school, he drove her to school in his car every day. This is legend in the family.

She has gorgeous hair, has got the smouldering look over the shoulder down PAT, and is just drop-dead gorgeous too!

Schizophrenic icon, popularized the peekaboo hairdo long before Jessica Rabbit

She’s just so prettyyyyy

So much hot in such a tiny package. She was no more than 5 feet tall, and some reports claim as small as 4'9"

If you picture a femme fatale in your head, almost certainly Veronica Lake had a hand in shaping the image you think of. She came to embody the look of the noir leading lady as well as the sound and the performance. Certified Noir Baddie.

Eartha Kitt:

"A hot vintage woman who was not just known for her voice, beauty, poise, and presence, but also her unapologetic ways of speaking about how she was mistreated in the show business as a girl who grew up on cotton fields in South Carolina in the 1930s through the 1940s coming to Broadway first and then Hollywood."

"Have you watched her sing?? Have you seen her face?? Have you heard her talk?? How could you not fall instantly in love. She makes me incoherent with how hot she is."

"She can ACT she can SING she can speak FOUR LANGUAGES she is a GODDESS!!! Although she is (rightfully) remembered for her singing, TV appearances (Catwoman my beloved), and later film roles, her early appearances in film are no less impressive or noteworthy!! She’s an amazing actress with so much charisma in every role. She was also blacklisted from Hollywood for 10 years for criticizing the Johnson administration/Vietnam War, so. Iconic. Also Orson Welles apparently called her “the most exciting woman in the world.”

"She had such a stunning, remarkable appearance, like she could tear you to shreds with just a glance- but the most undeniable part of her hotness was her voice, and it makes sense that it's what most people nowadays know her for. Nothing encapsulates the sheer magnetism of her singing better than this clip of her and Nat King Cole in St. Louis Blues, she pops in at 2:49. Also I know it's post-1970 but her song that was cut from Emperor's New Groove is likely to make you feel Feelings."

Even with as racist as Hollywood was in the 1950s and 60s, Eartha Kitt STILL managed to have a thriving career. She also once had a threesome with Paul Newman and James Dean, and called out LBJ over the Vietnam War so hard that it made First Lady Johnson cry. Eartha Kitt was talented, sexy, and a total badass activist.

[lyricswrittenbythesecretdreamer]

Haunted

“You remind me of a man I used to know.”  

I was watching the embers in the fire die, and the thought just came, out loud. The Ghoul chewed an unknown meat off the stick he’d skewered it on, not looking up to dignify my statement with even so much as a grunt. Maybe not then, I thought sadly. Maybe all the men like Cooper had died when the bombs dropped. I certainly hadn’t met a man like him since we’d said goodbye to each other at that party. Still, I continued.  

“He was a lot friendlier than you – though I suppose actors are predisposed to high levels of charisma.” I smiled to myself from behind the handkerchief covering my face, thinking of how simple the past now seemed in comparison to the present.  

“Actor?” It was first word I’d heard him speak since he told me to put out the fire that had cooked our dinner and it brought me from my daydream of my old life.  

“Yeah, actor. One of the good ones, most of the time anyway.” I chuckled to myself, remembering the tantrums he used to have on set if something wasn’t entirely accurate.  

“How would you have known an actor?”  

“Well, if you must know, I was-”   

I was cut off by a knife flying past my face and narrowly missing my eye, and then there was a body on top of mine, all flailing limbs and trying to stab me, grabbing a hold of my neck and head to hold me down. I grabbed the pocket knife hidden in my coat and wounded my attacker, before rolling the both of us over and pushing his face into the dying ashes. Their screams echoed out against the darkness of the wasteland, and I heard several gunshots. I took my pistol from my belt and shot whoever had tried to jump me in the back of his skull, letting him fall limply beside me.  

I look up through the dying light to see the Ghoul surveying our surroundings, before looking down at me and I realised with horror I didn’t have the handkerchief covering my face anymore.  

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Rosie Ryder,” he let out an audible laugh, “What are you doin’ out in the Wasteland?”  

My face went bright red, and I huffed.  

“Even after the apocalypse, people still just know me as the girl who played the hooker that got her titties out for Cooper Howard,” I rolled my eyes and sighed, “I’ve done other movies, you know.”  

“Yeah, you were great in Under the Covers,” he chuckled again, “although for you that film must have mostly been about shooting all that kissin’ you did to the poor bloke. I bet his lips were chapped at the end of every day!”  

“You a fan of Cooper Howard?” I asked, looking him up and down, “this get-up of yours seems pretty inspired by his work.”  

“You could say that, Little Miss Ryder.”  

I laughed bitterly and gestured down at the three bodies around us.  

“We should probably find somewhere else to sleep tonight, in case anyone heard the gunshots.”  

I checked the pockets of the bodies but couldn’t find anything other than a couple of caps and a gun with some ammo still left in it.  

“No chems?” he asked, and I shook my head.  

“No chems.”  

*** 

As we continued in our direction, the Ghoul became more talkative.  

“So, if you were Little Miss Rosie Ryder, you must be at least two hundred and something years old,” he began, “So how are you here right now?” 

I shrugged.  

“It’s a long, long story. We don’t got that much time, Ghoulie.”  

Eventually we came across a shabby-looking shack that looked just about safe enough for the night and might potentially keep us safe from any radstorm that might decide to descend onto us. And maybe from any raiders, too.  

The Ghoul went in first, checking the inside whilst I set a bear trap up in front of the door, before following him inside. It seemed as if someone might have been living here for a bit – there was a sofa and a little table, as well as a small counter with what looked like to be a broken-down hob. No signs of life anymore, though. Everything had a thick layer of dust coating it, and any essentials seem to have been hastily removed when the last occupier had left. 

“The walls seem pretty sturdy and the roof’s secure,” he said, “did you put a bear trap outside the door?”  

“Yeah, don’t wanna take the risk we did earlier.” I sighed. “Still, can’t help but think we’re still sitting ducks if someone breaks in. We’re not exactly in the safest area – I know at least two Raider groups who have bases nearby.” 

“They’ll break in and come face to face with my pistol aimed at their skulls, sweetheart.”  

“Oh, I’m ‘sweetheart’ now, am I? Now that you know what I look like under all these clothes?”  

The Ghoul stepped closer to me, the shadow of his hat towering over me.  

“Maybe I jus’ appreciate those actin’ skills of yours,” he murmured, “on top of that fine figure.” He stepped back from me and sat down on the sofa, slouching.  

“I’ll take first watch, Little Miss Rosie. I’ll wake you in a few hours and when the light comes, we’ll continue, and you can tell me that long, long story of yours.”  

*** 

Susie Wellington was coiffuring my hair for my first scene, as I sat tugging on my cotton skirt trying to psyche myself up for the scene ahead. We’d rehearsed it a bunch of times in table reads but this was the real thing – closed set and all.  

“Susie, I think the leading lady’s hair’s done up enough for now,” came a voice from the corner, “and you should be making your way back to the dressing rooms. I’m sure Little Miss Rosie Ryder here doesn’t want another cast member staring at her tits.”  

I looked up in relief as Cooper appeared beside us, cigarette in hand. Susie didn’t look to happy about having to leave her creation as it was, but only pursed her lips and bid me goodbye.  

“You excited for your first scene, Little Miss Rosie?” he asked, and I felt a strange sense of deja vu come over me at his words. I ignored it and put a shaky smile on my face.  

“I’m excited to get the nudity outta the way, that’s all I’m gonna say!” I giggled a bit, and he laughed alongside me.  

“Well, there’ll be a barrier in place of everythin’ and that dress of yours ain’t comin’ off completely. Gotta keep them perverts on their toes.” He winked at me, and I tried to keep the smile on my face, but under it all, I felt as if this was very dangerous.  

As he kissed me softly in front of the cameras and rolled his eyes playfully as the director asked him to push my dress up to show more of my skin, I felt something lurking in the shadows. Once this was shot, there was no going back and for some reason, I felt completely doomed.  

*** 

I woke up with a start, flinging my body forward. From the sofa, the Ghoul shushed me, holding a gloved finger over my mouth.  

I could hear something outside, and I assumed that was what woke me up. It was a strange sound, of someone dragging their feet through the dirt and the mud. We sat there in silence for a full half an hour, until the dragging sound moved away from the hut and back out into the darkness.  

“You mind takin’ the next watch, Sweetheart?” he said, “I need to get a couple hours kip in before we set off tomorrow.”  

“Sure,” I say tentatively, pulling out my pistol. “I’m glad you finally trust me.”  

“Well, I’m a huge fan.” He laid heavy emphasis on the ‘huge’, winking at me through the dusk light. I rolled my eyes, but inside I felt a little proud for some stupid goddamn reason.  

Back when I started acting, I didn’t think I’d have any living fans – never mind a half-dead irradiated man from 200 years in the future. Is he half-dead? It’d never been explained to me at the brothel – I’d just done my service and taken the RadAway. None of the others had ever stuck around to tell me their life story.  

We switched places, I sat myself down on the sofa and the Ghoul lay down on the bedroll on the floor.  

“Damn, this shit is fuckin’ uncomfortable.” I heard him say, and I let out a laugh under my bed.  

“I didn’t complain,” I whispered, and he made a grunting noise. I wasn’t sure if it was meant to be an insult or not, but I just chuckled quietly and pulled out my pistol, aimed at the door ready for anyone who tried to force their way through.  

The sun rose quickly after that, and by the light of the sky, I was able to get a better look at the Ghoul’s sleeping face. There was something so familiar about him, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. I decided it was the cowboy look – it reminded me of the niche I’d almost fallen into after my three-month contract with Cooper’s team. The audience had loved our chemistry on screen in The Man from Deadhorse, and the studios knew they’d get a lot more money if we came as a package deal – so we shot Under the Covers, City of Starlight and Valley of the Gun together. It took me back to the last film I’d shot, the one I hadn’t finished shooting.  

I looked down at my clothes – the same clothes I’d been wearing 200 years ago on set. The ‘Western Hooker’ dress, of which there had originally been five different versions. The hat, which I’d stolen from my co-worker as a joke, but had still been on my head when we’d been told to start running. For a moment, I could still smell the food that they’d made us on set. I could still smell the horse manure, and the flashing of lights.  

I looked back at the Ghoul, awake now, and almost came to a realisation.

[octuscle]

Cursed Ken, part 1: Kemal, the janitor

There was a lot at stake for Patrick. Actually, it was about everything. He had invested an incredible amount of time and money in preparing for this appointment. He had to be successful. And he would be successful. His idea was brilliant. His preparation was excellent. He took a deep breath. The projector projected the image of a young athletic man onto the wall. The young man was obviously a janitor or something. The young man was made of plastic. And a small army of young athletic men made of plastic, one of whom was currently having an image projected onto the wall, stood on the table in front of Patrick.

"Gentlemen, the Barbie movie gives your product a tailwind that will open up completely new markets. Barbie and Ken have become socially acceptable. And I'm convinced that this offers unimagined opportunities for marketing Ken in particular"

It seems to be going well. The Head of Product Management reached for the janitor. And turned it in his hand.

"Whereas in the past, gay men never dared to buy a Ken doll without lying about it being for their little niece, today hundreds of thousands of customers with purchasing power can imagine having a Ken doll on the shelf in their bedroom. But these customers also need Kens that serve stereotypes other than the Malibu boy."

A young man, who looked a bit like Malibu Ken himself, smiled as he reached for the doll, which was dressed like a British redneck. Only in pink. It went really well!

"As well as new Kens, which cover current popular gay fetishes, we should also take into account the fact that Barbie is now a manager or a lawyer. So Ken should also be allowed to be a janitor or a garbage man. Especially as this also appeals to potential customers' fetishes."

A member of the controlling department took the figure of the soccer player in his hand. Patrick seized the opportunity immediately. He switched to the foil with the Germanic-looking Ken, who was wearing a sleeveless T-shirt and had tattoos on one arm and one leg.

"With the European Football Championship in Germany this year, we have a major event that we can also exploit without paying license fees. We can place footballers, soccer fans and, as the epitome of masculinity, soccer hooligans. Everything that has to do with soccer this year…".

The head of product management cleared his throat. "May I interrupt for a moment?" he asked. Patrick nodded at him with a winning smile. "If you want my opinion, pack up your gay shit right now and leave the building. I didn't want this movie and I hate it. And the reason is that I feared excesses like this. I don't want a Ken who dresses like a faggot or a right-wing hooligan. For fuck's sake, does the prototype bodybuilder actually have steroid acne on his shoulders? Nobody wants to see that. And I certainly don't want to see it. Thank you for your efforts. But please leave. Go quickly and go far!"

Patrick stood open-mouthed in front of the screen with his presentation for a few seconds. Then he packed up without a word. He stuffed his artistically created dolls into a bag, put the computer in his laptop bag and left the room. He was on the verge of tears. He stuffed the bag with the dolls into the nearest garbage can. And then he left the building. Let Ken and Barbie choke you to death. Let them die of their fantasies. Anyone who even looked at Ken should become his fucking brainless image. How could he have thought he could make his fortune with these fucking figures? Never again!

There was an awkward silence in the meeting room. Not everyone present shared their boss's opinion. But no one dared to disagree. The two lucky ones who had a figurine in their hands discreetly slipped it into their jacket pocket. The head of product management took the janitor's Ken, stood up and said that he wanted to discuss this perversity with the legal department tomorrow.

It was mid-June. It didn't get dark until very late. Maybe that's why he hadn't even noticed how late it was. It was definitely time to call it a day. Where had that damn doll gone? He had it here on his desk… It was just too late, he was tired. But before he left, he had to go to the toilet. Damn it, he had to add toilet paper. And empty the garbage can. The snobs who were allowed to use the boardroom toilet often behaved like the ultimate barbarians. But it felt good to piss here. He would never get the privilege of doing it officially. But at this time of day? Who was going to forbid him?

The cleaning crew wouldn't be here for a few hours. He wiped over the urinals and washbasins with a few used paper towels. It was time to call it a day. But on the way out he could empty a few of the garbage cans along the way. Normally, he didn't pay attention to the contents of the garbage cans. Mostly boring papers. He assumed that the important stuff went into the shredding containers. There was something in one of the garbage cans on the conference floor that didn't belong there. Dolls. Various dolls that looked like Ken. In cool clothes. He'd never seen them like that before. Who threw something like that away? He packed it up once. It couldn't do any harm. Maybe he could sell the dolls…

Yes, he didn't have much to do with the blond Ken who stuck his mop in a pink cleaning bucket. But Kemal had even less to do with the powerful head of product management. He didn't want to deal with that kind of shit. He was here to service the air conditioning, replace light bulbs and sometimes fix faults in the elevator. It was a shitty job. But someone had to do it.

[isabel-lillah]

may 1 - prompt: animagus - @jegulus-microfic - word count: 601

Regulus found the ring in James's stuff over a month ago, and he's kind of starting to panic over it.

It's not that he thinks James is seeing someone else, because no, he would never. What he worries about is the possibility that James wanted to propose, but then realised what a wreck Regulus is, and decided that it's just not worth it to get married to him.

Regulus has always been worried about that. He's always been scared that one day James would realise he's just not good enough for him.

And he gets it, really, but the not knowing if that's what is actually happening now is really stressing him out. So much so that James notices.

It's a Wednesday evening when James finally decides to ask what has been worrying his boyfriend recently. They're laying on the couch, Reg's back pressed to James's front. They're watching a movie on a muggle television, when a break comes on.

"Reg, I've been meaning to ask you. Is something bothering you? You've seemed kinda anxious recently," James asks, tracing random shapes on Reg's arm with his fingers.

Regulus tenses instantly.

"Love, we don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, but you can tell me anything. You know that, right?"

At that, Regulus's last will to not say anything about the ring breaks down. He can't handle this anymore, and if he's going to get broken up with, he might as well just get it over with.

With a deep breath, he confesses: "I found the ring, James. More than a month ago."

It was James's turn to freeze, but before he could say anything, Reg continued: "And I understand if you thought better than proposing at the end, but I was just too scared I'd lose you completely if I asked, so I didn't."

As Regulus gets up to leave, James snaps out of his initial shock and quickly stands up too, catching Reg around his waist.

"Love, please look at me," he says, gently turning his boyfriend's face to his, only to find him with tears in his eyes.

"There's nothing that could make me decide not to propose to you. I just didn't want to do it until we were totally honest with each other, and there's something I've been holding back. I was trying to figure out how to tell you, and it took me a while," Regulus watched James take a breath before continuing: "So, I have permission of everyone to tell you. I've had for a while now, actually. So, Remus is a werewolf-"

Regulus choked. He didn't know what to expect when James started his speech, but it certainly wasn't this.

James rubbed his back as he continued: "And, naturally, me, Sirius and Peter want to be there for him. That's why we all disappear once a month, and that's why... I'm an animagus."

This bit actually got Regulus speechless for a minute.

"So, that's my one and only secret. I hope you understand why I didn't tell you earlier, I couldn't, it's not just my secret. We're all unregistered, even Remus is. On a less worrying tone, if you'll still have me, we can stop worrying about that proposal. It's going to happen. If you'll allow me?"

Regulus just laughed. This was the best scenario that could happen. "I will, only if you tell me what animagus you are. And you need to show me."

James chuckled and kissed him chastely, before grabbing his hand, and dragging him out of the house: "We need to get out for that, love."

[ktgoodmorning]

Dropout

Jessie Fleming x reader

A little blurb inspired by me constantly threatening to drop out even though I never will

Masterlist

All day you were working on homework, hunched over your laptop at the kitchen table, struggling to stay focused on the content in front of you. Finals were coming up and you had more tests than you could process the information for. You knew you needed to keep studying if you had any hopes of doing well but you just couldn’t take it anymore. Your brain was overloaded and nothing you did could regain your focus no matter how hard you tried. 

The rattling of your front door made you perk up in hopes of finally having your girlfriend home to join you. At the very least, she would be willing to listen to your complaints for a while and keep you company while you kept working.

“Jessie!” you jumped up to greet her the second the door opened. Apparently greeting her at the door was exactly the excuse you were looking for to take a break from your studying and finally leave the table. 

The brunette instantly dropped her bag and opened her arms for a hug, holding you tight and lifting your feet off the ground. As soon as she pulled you up, you wrapped your legs around her waist, fully clinging onto her while she giggled into your neck at your unusual level of excitement. 

“Hi, baby. Did you miss me or something?” Her hand ran gently down your back, relaxing some of the tension that had built up from your day of studying. 

“Just tired of school work and happy to have you home,” 

She hummed into your hair softly while continuing to hold you tight. “I know, sweetheart. Just a few more days and then you’ll be done with all your exams and have some time to relax.” 

Your girlfriend could tell that her words did little to comfort you when you remained in her arms, clinging onto her tightly while she left a soft kiss on the side of your head. “Why don’t we order some food, and I’ll sit with you while you keep working, and then when the food gets here we’ll take a break for a little bit and put on a show or something?” 

You jumped down from her arms and threw your head back with a dramatic groan. “Jesssssiiieeee. Why do I have to keep studying? Why can’t we just put on a movie and I’ll do it tomorrow?” 

“We both know that you would kill me if I let you be done studying right now. You’ve just got a few more days left. I’ll even help you if you want!” 

You slumped back into your chair, “Why can’t I just drop out?”

“Baby, you don’t want to drop out.”

“Yes I do, I hate this.” You looked like a small child pouting at the kitchen table with your arms crossed and bottom lip stuck out, refusing to return to your work. 

“We both know that’s not true. You normally love school and you’re literally working towards your dream job right now. I’ll help you out, you can do this, baby. You’ve been doing so well and now you just have a little bit left. Come on!”

“But Jess-”

“Baby,” she took your hands and forced you to look up at her, once again being the voice of reason she always was. “I am so proud of you. You are so so so smart. And you have worked so hard. We’re gonna do this just a little bit longer, and then when the food comes we’ll take a break.” She pulled you in for a soft kiss, “Do you want me to quiz you on your flashcards?” 

Your eyebrows knit together again at the thought of school, causing you both to sit in silence for a moment- you because you didn’t want to do any more, and Jessie trying to think of a solution. After a brief moment, her eyes lit up, clearly having a new plan. “How ‘bout I quiz you, and everytime you get one right, I’ll give you kisses as a reward.” 

While you still weren’t keen on the idea, you knew Jessie was right that you would be mad at yourself if you gave up on it right now, plus the idea of her kisses certainly didn’t sound too bad. 

You gave her a playful eyeroll and half a smile while she picked up your stack of flashcards, knowing that eventually you’d get too distracted by her kisses to be able to go all night, thankful for Jessie pushing you but also knowing when to stop. If nothing else, you both knew that kisses from your girlfriend were the one thing that would work to motivate you to keep working.

When you passed your exams a few days later, you knew you had Jessie to thank for helping you study and you knew that she’d be the first one to celebrate with you when you got home.

Happy finals week folks!

Masterlist

[flightyalrighty]

(sorry if you've gotten this before or if this is not the right kind of question for the blog)

Do you have any advice on HOW to make a comic series? From what I've seen your work is fantastic, well made and written! (Cool concepts, story, and character dynamics etc)

How did you start? How DO you start?? How do you comic lol

I'm glad you enjoy my work! I'll do my best to answer this question!

I could give the ol' "Just jump in! Get started!" But I don't think that's the answer you're looking for, here. Even if it's technically the correct one.

"How do you make a comic series" Is one of those questions where the answer is kinda difficult to summarize in a single ask, because there's a whole lot that goes into it, y'know? I'll give you a brief run-down of my process.

I figure an idea for a story. In the case of Infested, the whole story was written before I even got started on the script. This is an outlier in my usual process and I don't normally do this and definitely don't recommend it.

Figure the plot like how you would figure a regular story's plot; The beats you wanna hit, the way the characters develop, the beginning, the middle, the end. What's the point of the story? What, exactly, are you trying to convey here? Who's the target audience? All that stuff ought to be figured out before even picking up a [MEDIUM OF ARTIST'S CHOICE].

Script the story. If you've seen a movie script, these things look a bit like that. You wanna not skip this step because this is where you determine the visual language of each page. Comic script writing is a whole thing and a half but I do have some random tips regarding it. -> When writing the beginning of a new scene, write down the time of day, the weather, and any important details about your setting (this is most important if you're working in a team). -> Using storyboard/film language when trying to figure out a scene is very helpful. You're not gonna remember exactly how that scene looked in your head when you finally get around to penciling it. Trust me. Write it down. Or thumbnail it! Thumbnails are also very helpful! -> Remember that you have very limited space for dialogue. Write with that in mind.

Figure the paneling on a page. I work at 11x17 and do my panel layouts based on those dimensions. I tend to make more important panels, or panels with PUNCH or SHOCK bigger than the others. Each panel is an individual illustration, but together they make a whole piece. You gotta treat it like that, y'know? Find the focal point on a page, find the most important element of it, and make that your focal point. Don't be afraid to get a lil wacky with panel shapes, either. They don't HAVE to be squares and rectangles. Check out what other cartoonists do! Get inspired! Paneling is an art-form within itself!

Page from "Hanna Is Not A Boy's Name" By Tess Stone

5. Penciling time! Get the perspective figured out, then draw the background, then draw the characters. Do it in that order. Trust me. With a background already set up, characters can be drawn more like they exist within that space, instead of floating in front of it. Also? Be aware that comic artists need to be ready to draw ANYTHING. You may have a great idea that you GOTTA put out into the world, but you have no idea how to draw, say, a car. Or debris. Or jungle foliage. There's no shame in using references, tutorials, or even doing a bit of tracing if something's outside your wheelhouse. Here's a bazillion tutorials from two guys who REALLY know their stuff.

6. Speech Balloons! Yes, really. In fact, you may want to do this and penciling at the same time. I certainly do. It's better to figure this out immediately so it doesn't hurt you later when it comes to getting your balloons to share a space with your art. Here's some great advice on the whole subject from a master of the craft

7. Inks! Line weight variation is key. Closer to the "camera" means thicker lines. If a part of a character is in shadow, that part is gonna get thicker lines, too. Personally, I make my background line art thinner than character line art. It helps the characters pop out!

8. Flats! Or flat colors if you wanna get specific about terminology. It's exactly what it sounds like -- Coloring the characters and backgrounds with the bare bones basic colors. I highly recommend keeping the character flats and bg flats on separate layers if you're working digitally.

9. Rendering! There's no hard and fast rule as to how a cartoonist ought to render their comic -- If they want to do that at all, even. Go with what you believe looks good AND is something you can do quickly. The "quickly" part is important. Heed my warning. Don't be like me.

And then I'd schedule the comic to be uploaded on whatever day suits me -- Thursday (usually) in Infested's case.

Of course, I kinda suck at relaying my process, so the final thing I can do for you is direct you to an extremely helpful book that really breaks it down in a way that may click with you as it did with me.

I hope this was in any way helpful to you!

[silverflqmes]

Any HCs for Sephiroth with an s/o that's afraid of thunder? 👀💖

໒⦂ 𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐀 𝐇𝐂𝐒.

notes. hi hi, i did my best to compile some headcanons, personally i think sephiroth might also be scared himself, so a little comfort will go his way too :’)

genre. hurt + comfort

sephiroth x gn!reader.

⌗ the fear of thunder and lightning, otherwise known as astraphobia, is commonly shared among most and completely understandable to sephiroth whenever you find it in yourself to tell him.. unless you give yourself away on accident.

⌗ i feel that due to his enhanced senses and of all the bullshit hojo put him through, he might have developed a sensitivity to loud noises and flashes — but he has learnt to grit his teeth and bear it.

⌗ on some nights it can be a little harder for him, but he feels at ease if you are around and does his best to protect you since you are suffering from the same — if not, worse.

⌗ if you take it upon yourself to speak up about your fear, rest assured, it’s a judgment free zone. sephiroth neither has the place to judge, nor does he shun you for it because he understands it well and wishes to do all that he can to help you through your fear.

⌗ if you have difficulty telling him, trust me with how observant he is, he’s likely to put the pieces together pretty easily. but even still, he will wait until you are ready to tell him.

⌗ but if a thunderstorm comes and you have failed to do, he will take matters into his own hands and at the minute he catches wind of your discomfort.

⌗ it could be a flinch, the tiniest whimper, you ducking to cover your ears or a haphazard excuse to leave the room — but sephiroth will know.

⌗ he would give you a moment if you left the room, but when he doesn’t see you return, he will approach and either join you wherever you are hiding, no matter how small the space is ( this man will cram himself in there like a cat don’t underestimate him ), or pull you into his hold for you to hide in his chest while he soothes your shaking body with his touch.

⌗ from the day he discovered your fear, he would regularly check the weather, making sure to be home whenever a thunderstorm would take place to comfort you through it.

⌗ if he’s away or cannot be home on time from either a mission or meeting, he’s got you on speed dial and keeps you on call for however long you need.

⌗ if he cannot call you at all because fuck shinra sometimes ( all the time ), he took it upon himself to buy you one of those weighted anxiety plushies — or even a normal plush for you to cuddle to feel safe. personally i’m uh.. thinking a gray kitty with cerulean colored eyes to remind you of him :’) so that you feel like he’s still there in a sense.

⌗ another thing is maybe audio recordings of him ( probably just random stuff about his day and sweet nothings ) for you to listen to if you need to hear his voice in the case again, that he cannot be there or phone you.

⌗ throughout a thunderstorm, he would do his best to take your mind off it and make it a little more bearable if at all possible.

⌗ me personally, i like rain but i’m no good with thunderstorms that come with strong winds — the sounds give me a bit of ptsd, especially if i’m on my own. but i try to do things to take my mind off it, which i will list through sephiroth<3

⌗ thunder is a sound which can be solved by playing something over it. whether it’s a show, movie or music, even conversation — you bet your boyfriend is providing whatever he can to mask the unpleasant noises outside.

⌗ rainy days can be nice to get all bundled up in blankets with tea, hot coco or coffee — any warm beverage that you personally enjoy, and sephiroth is willing to use that as a way of making the storm a little easier to handle. pairing the experience with a good book or poetry is also nice — certainly if he offers to read to you. goodness his voice is so nice..

⌗ furthermore he has the curtains pulled in your shared apartment if you find it easier not to see what’s happening outside and he takes it upon himself to make homemade soup for dinner<3

⌗ when the storm drags into the evening, he takes you into his arms and holds you as tight as he possibly can, shielding you from the world beyond his windows.

⌗ even as you tremble and tears prickle at the corners of your eyes, you can hear sephiroth humming, the gentle and steady pitter patter of his heartbeat as he smooths a hand down your back. gradually, it relaxes you and your eyes begin to get heavy.

⌗ you hold on tight to your beloved, allowing his protective hold to envelope you wholly as you at last give into sleep, aware that he would keep you safe throughout the evening and remainder of the thunderstorm.

⌗ bonus for sephiroth.. on the rare occasions that his own fear gets the better of him, you do your best to muster whatever courage you can throw together and hold him closely.

⌗ you card your fingers through his silky hair, allowing him to bury his face in either your neck, shoulder, chest — wherever he feels most comfortable — as you rub his back as tenderly as possible, vowing to be there through the very end as he has with your moments of fear.

notes. i may have gotten a little too detailed and indulged a little more than i should have.. but i’m hoping it’s to your likings, tysm for requesting again<3

↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask

[madam-o]

Re the weird divide in the Beetlejuice fandom, which I really don't get

Fandom is so strange. Just liking Beetlejuice himself as a character has invited all manner of unusual kinks and personal interests into the fandom, and hey, the more the merrier. Beetlefans and netherlings are an assembly of interesting weirdos, so like, you do you. And obviously, this means that you should try not to judge or make assumptions about others based on your own feelings about their interests. Riiiight?

So, Beetlebabes as a ship has been around since the beginning of the fandom, and it certainly seems likely not to be going anywhere with the sequel. Now, my own personal stance on the pairing lies straight in the middle. I think Lydia and Beej have a beautiful friendship in the animated series and musical. They're such a great comedic duo and there's something very pure and sweet about this girl and her bug-man. Their relationship in the musical IS colored by the fact that they're both using and tricking each other a lot of the time, but they seem to have a mutual respect on this point and don't let it ruin their friendship, well until the topic of moms comes up, anyway.

In the movie, it's more complicated. BJ is motivated primarily by his desire to be free and couldn't care less about Lydia's problems. He also gets just a tad creepy with Lydia, though he's not over the top about it. He claims that he thinks that she "really understands me", which is a frickin weird thing to say about a kid who you talked to for like five minutes. But the pervy implications are kept to a minimum so as not to drive the movie into darker territory. His motivations are still kept as primarily a green card thing, although the viewer is still pretty grossed out by the forced, child-bride marriage.

Re BJ, I don't see him as a human or someone who really follows human rules. He's a supernatural creature who has a vague, outsider's understanding of what being human means. Even interpreting him as a ghost and not a demon, he's too different from a human to remember what being one is like. In the musical and cartoon, he relates to Lydia from a child's pov, but tries to behave like an adult with the Maitlands. He's neither, though. He's an unliving, essentially immortal Thing. And while Lydia clearly has a lot of affection for "her monster", she's not exactly into this gross, stinky, creepy old guy. As for BJ, he's very attached to Lydia, perhaps unhealthily so, but he's not being a sexual predator with her.

However, as a Beetlefan, I've seen that it's pretty natural to pair the two up romantically. I certainly shipped them as a kid. And yeah, it's kind of a weird ship, but Beetlejuice as a concept is just weird, period. Weirdness and age gaps are hardly anything new or unique in any part of the internet. Teen fans ship characters their own age with much older characters all the time, and it's not usually frowned upon. But in the Beetlejuice fandom, there appears to be a lot of ship-shaming and accusations of p3d0ph1lia when it comes to this teen/ancient monster pairing, which I'm guessing is a lot more of an internet drama thing than about the actual pairing itself.

Now to be clear, I don't ship teen Lydia with anyone, but I also acknowledge that she's not gonna stay a kid and that things could change between them.

Personally I like the idea of Lydia and BJ being reunited after spending several years apart and things being super weird and tense based on their history. I've become primarily a fan of the relationship dynamic they have in the musical, so I see them as being distrustful of each other and competitive about getting one over the other. But they still gel in a unique way, and they can't help but enjoy their messed-up frenemy thing. And I think the awkwardness of the teen bride thing should be leaned into rather than forgotten or brushed away.

Lydia (to BJ): You really fucked me up, you know. I was just a sad kid who you manipulated. You fuckin creep.

BJ (to Lydia): Yeah but at least I didn't literally STAB YOU THROUGH THE HEART, so...point to me, there.

This type of prickly, antagonistic relationship is like catnip to me, honestly. So it's pretty disappointing and sad that all this fandom drama crap can and probably will affect my ability to share and enjoy beetlebabes content because "beetlebabes dni" appears on so many profiles and posts. It's the kinda thing that makes fandom culture such a double-edged freaking sword. Why can't people ever just let people enjoy the thing they like and try to be respectful of each other, ya know?

[sarnai4]

Tai Lung Analysis

For the longest time, 3 animated villains remained my absolute favorites and among them was Tai Lung. Years later, he still impresses me. I feel like villains normally fall into certain categories. Two of these are dangerous and sympathetic villains. Of course, these can cross and that's why I enjoy him so much. Tai Lung is constantly acknowledged as a threat and for good reason. The movie sets up Shifu and Oogway as the best of the best, so how can the audience feel anything other than concern when even these two kung fu masters are dreading Tai Lung's escape? It's the first time when Shifu even seems almost scared. As soon as we see Tai Lung, we continue to get this sense of how dangerous he is. The guy has a prison of 1000 rhino guards for only himself. He has a shell trap on so that he can't even move a muscle (outside of his tail). We're not only shown how the characters feel about him but how they try to keep him from being any more of a danger. It perfectly complements the flashback where Tigress is telling Po what happened when Tai Lung went on a rampage. Then as soon as he does break out, we see it's all true. Despite spending 20 years completely immobilized, Tai Lung probably killed all 1000 guards effortlessly. Strategically, he left the goose alive so that he could have a messenger. He doesn't even need the element of surprise.

That escape was beautiful on its own, but then Tai Lung continues to prove how dangerous he is by taking out the Furious Five, making it painfully clear that he could have killed them if he wanted. Again, he wants to send a message to Shifu. These are his new pupils? They're the best he has? Let him remind his old master of the quality he used to breed.

It all leads to the fight with Shifu which ties into why Tai Lung is also a sympathetic villain. He's not just some final boss for Po to fight. He's got a troubled past as well. I don't condone what he did, but it makes sense. Tai Lung was abandoned as a baby and raised with one objective-becoming the dragon warrior. This was what Shifu wanted from him. This was the one way he knew he could make his father proud. It became Tai Lung's life mission to the point of it no longer just being something that Shifu wanted for him. Now, it's the only future he can see for himself. When he finds out he can't have it, where does that leave him? He's spent his entire life working for this. Why would his only family, Shifu, think he was worth the effort of caring for him if it's all been a waste of time? Clearly, Shifu doesn't think he matters anymore because he said nothing when Oogway crushed his dreams. Even though Shifu never stopped being proud and caring for him, through the eyes of a child towards a parent, that's what Tai Lung saw: abandonment again. Another family deemed him unworthy.

The love between Tai Lung and Shifu never really ended. When Shifu finally apologized for training him so hard to reach the goal he wanted Tai Lung to have, we can see that it touched his heart. He's gone down the point of no return now, but it meant something to him. That's why he pointed out how he only ever wanted to make Shifu proud of him. These wounds never healed. If they had, he would have gone in, killed Shifu, and taken the scroll. There would have been no need to admit his past desires of being someone Shifu could be proud of and there certainly would have been no need to delay the attack after the apology. Yet, those twenty years were spent making his body and pain stronger. It's why he loses the fight with Po.

I absolutely adore how they did the fight at the end. They didn't try to make it seem like Po could actually defeat Tai Lung. He lost. Plain and simple. Tai Lung knocked him deep into the ground and read the scroll like he wanted. He won...but he also lost. Tai Lung lost because he didn't have a Mr. Ping in his life who could offer that love to say that he was special with or without the world confirming this. When Po saw the scroll was empty, his dad helped him by pointing out the power we all have just by believing. He always wanted Po to feel special even if other people didn't think that. Po didn't need to earn his love, but Tai Lung thought he needed to earn it from Shifu. So, when the scroll is empty, it's a second blow to his life being wasted. Not only did he work so hard only to be passed up, his goal in life was getting to read a blank scroll. This is when Tai Lung breaks. He can't take it anymore. Nothing in his life has amounted to anything but pain and he's got nothing to show for it but enemies. He lashes out in rage and hurt, easily being defeated. As a poetically depressing moment, it's the move that Po indirectly learned from Shifu that defeats Tai Lung. Shifu was the main reason Tai Lung turned into the villain he became and he was practically the one to destroy him too. Sadly, I don't think this could have ended any other way. Tai Lung has been hurting for too long for him to consider forgiveness now. He doesn't want the apology, he wants what he's worked for and that just became meaningless to him. There's nothing left for him but to reap the consequences of having the legendary battle. The only question is, who is his worthy opponent? Po for using the finger hold? Shifu for building him up and breaking him down? Or himself for being so consumed by his pain that he allowed himself to become a monster? We can each answer that for ourselves and these questions are why I love Tai Lung as a villain and character so much.

[yohankang]

- Why did you do all this? - I wanted to get a hold of your weakness. - That's not it, is it? You wanted to piss me off so I'll do something nasty to you, right? You pervert.

Double Mints (2017)

[kerryweaverlesbian]

Dean Winchester of Supernatural fame is NOT reading parenting books he is putting on Cheaper By The Dozen, Daddy Daycare and Honey I Shrunk The Kids taking notes.

[pastafossa]

hey pasta! I don’t know if someone has asked this already but is TRT gonna go into Born Again or end at season 3?

So that's where I'm not sure! The current outline is as such:

All Major Arcs (including Cyrus James/Project Beagle fallout arc and psychic abilities arcs): scheduled to wrap up a bit after the end of S3 so that Matt and Jane's arcs/development neatly dovetail together. This will mark the official end of TRT's main fic.

Special Additional Arcs (chaptered fics not attached to main fic but still TRT canon, taking place after end of main fic) in no particular order: Endgame/The Snap arc, Spider-Man: NWH arc, Spoiler Removed arc, tentative She Hulk Shenanigans arc.

Oneshot Arcs: various domestic fluff arcs, interactions with major MCU events, a 'What Their Life Is Like When Old Cause GD It They're Going To Live To Old Age And Will Have Rocking Chairs' arc, a SINGLE take it or leave it 'What If?' fic of something funny with a possible daughter cause damn I had this idea for a hilarious scene and it won't leave me alone

Now, those are what are planned in the outline, and the main event with Project Beagle tie-ins and plotlines and all of that is something I'm still planning to end just after S3 because I really do want to have a finish line for that, and I feel like dragging that all out for Born Again wouldn't work for the... events that are going to happen, without saying too much. Once that's wrapped up, that's when you're going to see TRT finally marked as 'complete' on AO3, though there'll be more fics set in that universe (see special additional arcs and oneshot arcs) that I'll mark as in the Devil and Hound series along with drabbles on tumblr.

Once we're past that official endpoint and those special arcs, though, things get fluid and murky since when I was outlining all the major plotlines, there was no Daredevil: Born Again, nor was Matt even in the MCU officially (which is why Spider-Man pops in way sooner in TRT than he meets Matt in the MCU) and I specifically set up Jane's plotline to bookend with Matt's so their growth twined together and they both finally found peace around the same time. Outside that, I'd planned some shorter chaptered stories in the series post-mainline TRT like the Snap arc that I may now adjust (since it sure is looking like Matt was left behind for the snap) but nothing on the level of TRT's main plotline which is absolutely massive and took me years to fully outline and construct before coming back from hiatus in 2021 and pumping out chapters (Happy six year anniversary to TRT on Sept 15!).

ALL THAT BEING SAID.

I do have plans to write stuff for TRT's take on Born Again because I'm 100% married to writing for Matt at this point and there's no possible way I won't want to do something once I'm being fed Charlie!Matt scenes again. I'm not sure what those plans are just yet - I kinda wanna wait and see what happens in Born Again in case it sparks something. But I also want to make sure that no matter what I do, there's some sort of strong original plotline so that, much like mainline TRT, we'll be able to weave in and out of canonical events (especially since things like the Snap or a wedding or Jane and Matt's friendship with Peter will alter canon). I don't think I'm going to do something quite as huge as TRT's main plotline again, mostly because it takes a TON of time and work, and I'm planning to take the original TRT elements and morph them into an original series fit for publishing (different enough that I can leave TRT up for everyone to read, cause at this point the fic's part of DD fandom culture and I have no plans to take that away) which will also take a ton of time. But I'm definitely rattling my brain around, looking at different plotlines I could do knowing what I know about the ending, hunting for loose ends or canonical threads that I can weave in with TRT's world and create something new!

Then again, I never would have said I'd make something as massive as TRT before I started, either, so who knows.

So in short: YES, there will be TRT events for Born Again even if it's not as elaborate as TRT! I just have no idea what those will be yet. Fortunately, TRT mainline's only a little over halfway done so I've got time to plan!

[juniperhillpatient]

Okayyy I’m about halfway into this movie & I have to say as someone deeply burnt out on modern paranormal movies & especially Blumhouse paranormal movies I’m pleasantly surprised by how much I’m enjoying the way the supernatural element weaves into the story & impacts reality in ways that are interesting. I’m hesitantly intrigued that this movie might even be doing something clever & original

[wreckedhoney]

Hohohooooh no Not again. Yes, it's

KISSING FREQUENTLY (AO3 Link) A Forrest Nash/Gallows Creek fanfiction (Rated M. More details inside & in tags!)

The ✧ Annual Gallows Creek Harvest Festival at Giblet Field ✧ has been considerably delayed due to the events of Whistling Night. Forrest Nash couldn't care less, in fact holding out hope that it could be canceled entirely after being approached too many times about being a centerpiece for this year’s celebrations. No, thank you, he says. What he needs on the night of the festival is a good sitdown, a relaxing drink, and some peace and quiet just to himself.

Good luck, Forrest! ♡🔓🔒 And season's greetings, KFAN's!

[iron-cutting-meteor-sword]

I’d decided ever since I first got into Lupin that I was going the completionist route and consuming all the media from it that I could find, but there are some bits that I am dreading going into lol. Despite this I am determined to find something useful and or enjoyable about each Lupin thing I find, because there’s always something you can pick out from them and because to me that’s a fun way of gathering little bits of info and meta on the series and characters, and seeing how they interact or oppose each other. This isn’t to say I’ll ignore the shitty stuff that’s waiting there, but I’m also not going to be writing a post about every bit of awful shit and how I disagree with it for every post I talk about appreciating something, because I trust we all understand and agree that that is clearly not what anyone worthwhile likes or approves of about the series. I may even consider making a meta post talking about the worst recurring themes and content that has stuck around in the franchise over hundreds of different development teams due to negative influence from the various different and levels of cultures involved as well as time period, lack of gender diversity, and internalized bigotry; but also discuss how the series has worked towards visibility on certain issues like queer men in media and even more recently touching on the short hand Fujiko had been drawn for so many years by her getting an entire series for herself written by a woman, and how there is clearly a wide array of people that have touched the foundations of the franchise to make it what it is and how these positives and the negatives sometimes intersect on their way to the surface. It’s such a nuanced subject though and I really don’t want to make a post about that just on the fly. Not to mention I’m certainly not the authority on all the subjects that would need to be covered for such an analysis and I’ve certainly not “arrived” in any sort of way in terms of progressive understanding and analysis of themes and narratives in media, but maybe one day I can start a decent and good faith discussion about the different views on consuming media like Lupin the Third that is so chock full of content that should be left in the past and rightly criticized. Tangent aside, the point is I may talk about or reblog posts about or from some of the less popular installments of the Lupin franchise, and talk about some of the stuff I liked and disliked. Its my opinion that there’s something to be gleaned from each piece of Lupin media, and it all constitutes the giant tower of content that makes the series, even the foundation, the original manga. Despite all of its massive, massive problems, and like it or not, the manga is the reason the anime exists, and it’s history and influence on the series (and the history and influence on the manga itself) can’t just be thrown aside or ignored, as it still influences the series to this day! I think by the logic that is is the foundation of the franchise, there’s clearly something informative to rip from the pages. You just have to join the queue of people waiting to piss on Monkey Punch’s little clown grave after you read it.