Dear fic writers: How dare you make me procrastinate with your words.
Dear fic writers: How dare you make me procrastinate with your words.
Today in sci-fi comedy / punk movie history: on June 14, 1985 Repo Man debuted in Ireland.
Here's some Emilio Estevez art!
for this e3, my interest went over for MH: Stories 2 and AA
Another E3 another year without Battle Network/Star Force Legacy Collection
Ok can someone help please! I was just reading this amazing swanqueen doc called popcorn love on AO3 it’s by Chrmdpoet and then my phone crashed and now I can’t find it anywhere! I haven’t finished the fix and now I can’t find it and it’s stressing me out can someone send me a link or a pdf or something. I’ve tried googling it but all the links on google says the story on fan fiction.net isn’t available and that it doesn’t exist on AO3
desperately holding back on sharing my redesigns because i only have 2 revamped so far
lmao the capcom show case sucked ass but dgs looks so pretty!! like woah. Can’t wait to play it
I should sit down and play aa
The Final Rose - BTS Fan Fiction
“I’m super bummed about the yurt,” Myka says.
“It is rather unfortunate," Helena says. "Perhaps internet rentals are unreliable?”
“That’s how everything’s done these days. And it’s not their fault, the pump died, and no water means it’s a no-go. But I still want that river view.”
“And the solitude. Plus the solar-powered generator.”
“You were super into that,” Myka says. “But this place…” She pushes at the cards scattered in front of her. “They just left stuff lying around. Such a dump.”
“It was rather last minute. Merely a stop-gap; a place to rest our weary heads after nights under the stars.”
“And backs on the hard ground,” Myka grumbles. “Where’d you find this?” She twirls a yellow flower between her thumb and forefinger.
“In the garden behind the shed. Though ‘garden’ and 'shed’ are generous terms.”
“Thanks for picking it. And thanks for being so upbeat about this,” Myka says, cracking a small smile.
“Thank you for humoring my curiosity.” Helena gathers the cards within her reach and piles them into a neat stack.
“It’s given us a destination, which we needed.” Myka pushes more cards towards Helena. “You’re sure none of the sites we saw are what you remember?”
“From the stereographs? No.” Helena fans the cards out and begins to arrange them in suits.
“Could you…could it be you don’t remember it as well as you thought?
"Stereographs were the virtual reality of my day. They immersed one in places inherently foreign to our own. The take-away memories were vivid. I was hoping…”
“Hoping what?” Myka says, scooting closer, joining in organizing the cards.
“That the physicality of the ruins would trigger an emotional response. I viewed the images at one of Charles’s parties not long before I was bronzed. My reaction was quite visceral; I’d felt life flowing through the structures, even though they were long abandoned.”
Helena stares at the card in her hand.
“Then again, I wasn’t exactly in my right mind. Perhaps it’s a ridiculous quest.” She lays the card, a joker, on the table.
“Hey, we’ll keep looking,” Myka says, laying her hand over Helena’s. “We’ll regroup in Vegas, then go north and hit Mesa Verde. It’s pretty magical.”
“You’ve been before?”
“Girl Scout trip. Long, miserable bus ride. But even as a kid, the cliff dwellings felt magical.”
“Perhaps they’re the site I’m looking for!” Helena says, perking up. “And, perhaps we met there in the past. Star-crossed lovers, throughout time and space.”
“Past lives? You believe in that?”
“Not in a grand sense,” Helena says, aligning the gazes of the queen of hearts and queen of spades to face each other. “But I do appreciate that these days, one can mention such trivial mythologies without repercussions.”
“What do you mean?”
“In my day, as a woman, there was little room for flippant musing. Christian values dictated our every move, while Spiritualism promoted the fanatic embrace of communing with the dead. Not to mention the base-level assumption women were of a lesser intellect.”
“So you’d never say it out loud.”
“Never. In fact, I’d blocked it out. Hard science was my escape but at the expense of my sanity.”
“I suppose we all need a sense that something out there's guiding us,” Myka says, plucking the two other queens from the spread and aligning them as Helena did. “It’s kind of romantic to think our connection’s lasted hundreds of years.”
“But you’re not sold.”
“Nah.” Myka slips the cards on top of each other and slides them back into the pile.
“Perhaps my bronzing was the universe’s way of aligning our presence.”
“Sounds like a story you might write. Or one you already did.”
“So pragmatic, Myka Bering.”
“You’re the romantic,” Myka says, bumping Helena’s shoulder.
“I’m a woman of science!” Helena quips playfully.
“Hm, yeah,” Myka mumbles, turning to look towards the other side of the trailer. “Come with me, 'woman of science.’ Let’s test out this awful looking bed.”
She grabs Helena’s hand and tugs her across the room. They tumble in tandem onto the full-size futon.
Bering and Wells On the Road ("Warehouse 13" Season 5 replacement) Season 1: Episode 5 Title: Las Vegas: Hopes, Dreams, and a Little Bit of Crazy
Summary: Myka and Helena travel across the expanse of Texas toward the arid Southwest, tracking down a memory. A last-minute cancellation leads to less-than-ideal accommodations and musings on the universe. A stop in Vegas turns into an artifact hunt after a few nights on the town. While there, a less than supernatural mystery garners honest talk, revealing a sticking point that, for better or worse, is left hanging to be resolved down the line.
Previously: Episode 1, Episode 2, Episode 3, Episode 4
“What’s this?” Myka asks, holding a piece of paper found while tidying the room before checkout.
Helena turns from packing and squints at the page.
“It appears to be an advertisement for burlesque.”
“It’s a strip club.”
“There’s a distinction?”
“You’ve watched enough cop shows to know.”
“Touché,” Helena says with a smirk. “Were you considering attending?”
“It’s from your pocket! The stuff you took out to dry clean your coat after it got gooed.”
“I don’t recall saving that piece of ephemera.”
“Maybe you recall this?” Myka flips the paper over.
Helena steps closer and squints again.
“Do you need glasses?”
“I haven’t had proper tea yet,” Helena grumbles. “It appears to be writing.”
“It’s a name. And a number. Who's Giselle?”
“Ah…” A light bulb goes off behind Helena’s eyes. “The tall, blonde you were ogling at the bar.”
“Me? What blonde? Oh…” A dimmer bulb goes off behind Myka’s eyes. “I thought I recognized her from that show we saw, Zumanity.”
“And I’d thought she’d reminded you of a tall blonde from your past.”
“Sam was a man.”
“Gender is a construct–”
“I know! I don’t need another lecture–”
“–designed to control the masses, just like– ”
“Capitalism, religion, television….who knows what else,” Myka gruffs. “No more podcasts in the car for a while, OK?"
Helena crosses her arms over her chest and grunts dismissively. Myka's face pinches as she holds her ground.
"So you, what, went up to this woman when I took that call from the Warehouse?”
“As it happens, she spoke with me,” Helena says, puffing up like a bird on the defense.
“She came to our table?”
“I’d gone to the bar. I needed a top-up as you’d been gone for an immeasurable amount of time.”
“And she just happened to be there?”
“Coincidentally? And she 'coincidentally’ gave you her number?”
“We had a lovely conversation about the mechanics from the show. The hanging armatures, the chains, the silks, the water tank. And the athleticism that went into their provocative stunts.”
“Uh-huh. But she gave you her number. Why?”
“I believe there was a misunderstanding.”
“Must you parrot me so?” Helena plants her hands on her hips.
“If you’d tell me what really happened, I wouldn’t have to.” Myka mirrors Helena’s pose.
“Fine. You seemed so enamored, I thought to ask questions–”
“I thought I recognized her, that’s all!”
“She was quite stunning. Did I mention statuesque?”
“Helena, why?” Myka waves the page in Helena’s direction.
“She offered us a backstage tour.”
“Us, or you?”
“I’d pointedly mentioned you, so us.”
“Oh.” Myka’s shoulders slump. “What does 'backstage tour’ mean?”
“I believe a peek behind the production.”
“Because you said there was a misunderstanding.”
“Due to her somewhat pointed overtures.”
“I knew it! She was hitting on you.” Myka smacks the desk with her hand.
Helena grimaces. “I believe she was 'fishing’”
“Do you even know what that is?”
“I do, as per the aforementioned police procedurals. In fact, it was….refreshing, being courted by a woman."
"I’m a woman!”
“Yes, but….in the wild, so to speak.”
“Did you…” Myka starts, then glances at the paper again. She sits on the edge of the bed and looks up at Helena. “Did you want to go out with her?"
"Again, I’d pointedly pointed out I was taken.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because we rushed off New York, New York the minute your call from the Warehouse finished.” Helena throws her hands in the air. “We then spent the majority of yesterday chasing an elusive King Kong around that scale model of the city.”
“We did. Stupid antiques convention.”
“I swear we spend more time on Warehouse business than our own.”
“Like once a month.”
“Every other week. When they call us. Us getting whammied doesn’t count.”
“Mine was New Orleans. Yours Austin. But the others…”
Myka tallies missions on fingers until she hits ten. “You’re right. We’ve spent a lot of time on Warehouse stuff. I’m sorry.”
Helena shakes her head while breathing out a heavy sigh. She sits next to Myka and lays a hand on her thigh. “To answer your question, we’re off today anyway, so there was no point in mentioning it.”
Myka slips her hand over Helena’s. “I bet you actually wanted to see the mechanics backstage. That’s something people do on vacation.”
“Quite an improvement from Trouble Wit,” Helena says.
“I don’t know that that is.”
“Illusions with pleated paper. Parlor tricks, but they delighted Christina so.”
“See, I like hearing that stuff,” Myka says, squeezing Helena’s hand. “Would you have told me any of this if I hadn’t found the flyer cleaning up?’ She hands the paper to Helena.
"Why would it matter?” Helena crumples the paper and lobs it towards the garbage can. It bounces off and onto the floor.
“Because for this to work we need to talk to each other, tell each other how we feel.” Myka looks Helena in the eye. “I can’t read your mind.”
“Then, perhaps we were not destined to meet throughout time and space.”
“Hey, you can’t take it back. I like that idea now.” Myka threads her fingers through Helena's and flips their hands over. “You’re really annoyed about the work stuff?”
“I was hoping to have you all to myself.”
“You do.” Myka squeezes Helena’s hand again and lifts it up, kissing its back. “How much time do we have before checkout?”
Helena glances at her wristwatch. “Not nearly enough.”
“But it could be.” Myka threads a lock of hair behind Helena’s ear and guides their lips together. Their kiss leads to more-than-kissing in record time.
Next Scene: Running late to checkout…
NOTES: The quote, “Las Vegas is a city built on hopes, dreams and a little bit of crazy,” is by Eleanor Goggin. If you haven’t seen a well-shot stereograph in a viewer, you are missing out. Their mock-3D spaces from bygone eras can be mind-blowing.Myka with the flyer is from a season four episode where she and Pete go to Las Vegas. The show Zumanity is a racy offshoot of Cirque du Soleil and just closed after a seventeen-year run in Vegas. I started reading a fascinating dissertation about why middle- and upper-class Victorian women embraced Spiritualism. In a nutshell, it gave them autonomy and a sense of power within the rigid confines of what was expected of them as women while they remained safe within the construct of home. H.G. would have bristled at that, because she wanted more. But I’m certain she would have been fascinated by Hilma af Klint’s amazing drawings and paintings, even though they were based in Spiritualism and Theosophy. Oh and here's on of the stereographs. (H.G. would have seen it later than 1898.) Also, the title font/design is from the first edition of the book you are thinking of but the content is not related.
"Foul Tarnished...in search of the Elden Ring."
Wanted to draw up the "Elden Ring" Armor from the trailers, along with that cool magic spear/sword thing.
Open for Commissions
[COMMISSION] - High Energy
> Luminance | Full Body
Commission for @/sksvtn
Thank you for commissioning!
(Click for better quality!)
Here it is, after days of working on it I can finally show you my pride drawing featuring the ninjas! This was very fun to work on, I hope you like it! Happy pride everyone!
Keep in mind that those are just my headcanons and they're purely for fun!
(( Main, very much inactive account: @avitherum ))
PAIRING: Shadow Moon x F!Reader
UNIVERSE: American Gods
SUMMARY/PROMPT: Prompt from an Anonymous: God Damn Girl! That Shadow fic 💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦 Like Whoa holy fuck me that was so fucking hot! If I may make my own smutty request for Shadow. Having some stupid argument and you get to the point that you are just done arguing that you yell at him “go fuck yourself!” and walk to the bedroom he follows you and comes back with “I don’t think you actually want me to fuck myself!” and Smutty, like pussy slapping, feeling that the headboard is going to go through the wall and eventually the bed breaks. I love your writing sooooo much ❤️❤️❤️❤️
TW: SMUT! Pure Smut! | Rough Sex | Vagina Slapping | Vaginal Penetration | Choking | Hair Grabbing | Spanking | Angst | Relationship Tension | Consensual Non-Consensual | Dominant Male | Creampie
IMAGE CREDIT: Google I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP OF THESE GIFS. If these are your gif or you know who the creator is please INBOX me and let me know. Thank you.
My Masterlist | Taglist | REQUESTS ARE ALWAYS OPEN
Coming home, you had put your purse on the table and hung your coat up on the rack. He had been unruly lately, and with you feeling a bit snide yourself, you did your best to avoid him. You were home early from work, and today was his day off. You just wanted to relax. You walk past him, not really saying anything, and grab yourself a water bottle from the fridge.
"Yeah, Hi to you too." He states.
Ignoring it, you shake your head and open the bottle.
"What the hell is wrong? You've been snide with me all day."
"Well, you haven't exactly been a god damned peach yourself." You retaliate.
"Well, I give what I get." He stated with a slight scoff.
"Woah, hey now, I'm not the one who woke up with my boxers up my ass." You cross your arms, looking at him.
"I told you last night! My boss is a fuckin asshole!"
"YOU'RE TAKING IT OUT ON ME!" You snapped
"No, the fuck I'm not! I'm asking you to PLEASE understand! I'm not taking it out on you, I'm really not! You took what I said way out of proportion!" He tried to defend himself.
"When you tell me to just go to bed... yeah I have a fucking issue."
"I TOLD YOU I'M JUST GOING TO GO TO BED!"
"THE FUCK YOU DID!"
"What the fuck ever!" He snarled. He started to pace.
"Yeah, what the fuck ever." You shake your head, pushing past him.
"And yet you continue to run your fuckin mouth!" he growls.
"You know what, Shadow, go fuck yourself!" You yell and make your way to the bedroom and slam the door.
You begin pacing the bedroom, irritated, annoyed, angry even. Letting out a sharp breath, you mutter under your breath. Your fists clenched as you looked at your tossed water bottle on the chair by the bed. Shaking your head, you can't get yourself to come down.
Shadow growls; shaking his head, he threw his coffee cup in the sink and watching it shatter. He started to pace, muttering under his breath, cursing and growling. A part of him thought of playing with himself on the couch being loud enough for you to hear him fuck himself, and then it hit him. "You want me to fuck myself, fine, but I'm going to use you to do it." He growled to himself.
The door opens up, and he looks at you, his arms crossed, shaking his head. "I really don't think you want me to fuck myself..." He stated.
"I don't give a fuck what you do." You snapped.
"Oh? Are you sure?" He states, looking at you.
"I don't think I have to fuckin repeat myself, Shadow. I don't fucking care." You state, your teeth clenched with your jaw.
Looking over you, his eyes narrow on you. Nodding his head, he wipes his lip a moment and moves to you, and literally rips your t-shirt from you. You shove him away, your hands cool against his hot flesh. He walks to you and lifts you up, tosses you onto the bed, your breasts bounced as you fall onto the bed. You try to move, but he pulls your legs, stripping your pants from you. You aren't telling him, no, but you weren't going to make it easy for him.
You needed this; you had to put up the fight. You had to feel this pent-up energy that was going on between you. You needed to feel the pain, the want, you needed him to put you in your place, you needed him to remind you of your position, you needed him to tell you where you belonged. You needed him to take it. To use you.
Kicking your feet from him, you go to get off the bed only for him to wrap his arm around you and tosses you back on the bed. He grabs your legs, forcing them open, and slaps your pussy, a hard; and firm slap. A slap that caused your hips to buckle, your clit to quiver, and your floor muscles to clench as you let out a soft whimper. You attempt to pull your legs back together, but he was quick to stretch them apart again. You try to turn over, and he grabs your hair and spanks your ass hard, leaving a handprint.
Trying to move, he only uses that as a reason to continue to slap your ass, his hand still in your hair. You whimper, biting your lip, taking the slap after slap, begging for more mentally, but it's only making you wetter. When he backs off, you turn yourself over and glare at him, snarling you try and push him away.
With a growl, he stood between your legs and slapped your pussy again. You sit up and shove him away, only for him to climb on top of you and pin your hands above your head in one hand. You try to wiggle your way out. He takes your hands and lifts you up, pulling you to the headboard. Your head pressed into the pillows. He pulls his shorts off and growls, looking over your face as he shoves his cock into your wet tight pussy.
You let out a gasp as you try to fight him still, but that only causes him to thrust harder. The more he presses, the more your body begins to relax but fights. No words exchanged; you try and wiggle your wrists free, but he grips them tighter.
He growls as he presses harder into you, faster, his hips colliding with yours. Your insides feel like they are being rearranged- that's how hard he's slamming into you, the headboard bangs against the wall. Bang-bang-bang-bang-bang. It continues, his grunts loud, your growls turn into loud moans that fill the room.
Your hips begin to work with his as he continues to slam his cock deep into you. Taking the pussy beating like a true champ, like the submissive you absolutely are with him, you have this undying urge to make sure he uses you to fix his frustration.
You moan louder as he flips you over onto your side, lifting your leg pressing it against his torso as he slides his cock back inside you, the headboard moving a little harder against the wall. You scream, feeling him thrust at a whole new depth. You weren't moving from him. Your torso twists into the bed, you bury your face into the pillow, screaming.
He pulls your hair, and you lift your head so he can hear you scream out in pleasure. Growling, he bites at your leg, only causing you to moan louder. Your breathing turns into fast panting. You move your hips back and forth at your sideways angle as he thrusts in and up, causing your hips to buckle.
Gripping at the pillow, you let out a loud scream as he slams into your hips for a moment forcing you to hold his entire length. Your pussy quivers and pulsates around his thick long cock, he growls.
Shadow throws your leg to the side, getting between them again. His hand reaches for your throat as he feels his pressure build from using you. As he thrusts, he hears a crack and looks over you but doesn't stop, and suddenly the bed collides with the floor breaking the frame from his vigorous thrusting. He growls, but this doesn't stop him. He flips you over onto your hands and knees and slams his cock into you from behind.
Gripping at your hips, his fingers digging deep into you as he thrusts as hard as he can. You scream out, your screams echoed through the apartment as you grip into the pillow, your back arches down, your head upright, your hair bouncing, your breasts bounced as he slammed into you harder.
Letting out a heavy scream, he growls. You feel him release into you. His load was so large it slowly leaks from around his cock onto the bed, dripping down; you whimper- and your body shakes as you finish with him. He may not have told you that you could, but you couldn't help it feeling him release inside, quite literally filling you. He looks over your face and kisses you, deeply pulling you on top of him. His kiss was deep and passionate.
He looks over your face. "Don't ever tell me to go fuck myself again." He tells you.
You chuckle. "Oh, I absolutely will tell you to go fuck yourself again... and baby, you broke the bed." you chuckle.
"I see that. Looks like we just move it to the floor after all." He chuckles and kisses your forehead and reaches over to grab your water, taking a drink.
So, I recently enter the yoonkook zine, but can’t choose how to present my idea visually.
It’s about acrobat!Jungkook and hybrid!Yoongi, meeting at the circus.
Jungkook admires yoongi and that’s why he apply to the circus, but yoongi doesn’t wanna be there, he has no choice.
So I drew some sketches, but the true it’s… I have no time to paint this past months, I haven’t do anything more complex than a sketch so I forget how to paint… o(-(
I’m struggling because I want to summit something like a poster to the yoonkook zine and continue this story on my social media, but can’t actually figure out how to present this
ALSO MY THEME IS AUTUM SEASON… please help o(-(