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amhrosina · 1 year

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Your Pretty Heart (Billy Russo x f!Reader)

A/N: Anyone else widely obsessed with Pedro Pascal and The Last of Us right now? Being back in my Pedro era feels like getting home after a long ass trip. Should I write for some of Pedro's characters?? SOS! Also, I hit 800 followers today??? Like what??? Thank you to everyone who supports me and this account!!

Request: ex’s to lovers with Billy Russo or Matt Murdock. Where Frank and Karen “help” Billy/Matt get their ass together to get back with Reader. Because come on their clearly still in lovee.

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: When you and Billy break up, Karen takes it upon herself to get you back together. Her plan comes to a head one night at Josie’s, and you and Billy must face the consequences of loving and leaving one another.

(Warnings: so much angst, cursing, Billy is a soft!boy at heart, soft!Billy, descriptions of smut (but like romantic descriptions, not graphic ones??), I think that’s it, it’s literally just really sad until the end lol)

“You look great.” Your date smiled, but he wasn’t looking at your face. Instead, for the third time in less than a minute, his eyes trailed the sloping curve of your cleavage as it disappeared into your dress. You shrugged his gaze off, hoping there was at least something interesting about him to keep you entertained for the evening. Something could be there. Deep, deep, down, but there, nonetheless.

“So, Brad, what do you do for work? When Karen set this up, she didn’t tell me much about you.”

“I’m an accountant.”

Brad nodded his head along with yours, an awkward bob as you waited for him to return the question. He didn’t, instead choosing to fix his gaze on the jazz singer across the restaurant. Zero for two, Brad.

“Do you, uh, have any hobbies?” You tried again to break the conversation dam, but Brad’s attention was so far away from the table you were sharing that he barely glanced at you when he responded.

“I jog sometimes.”

“Oh!” You lurched forward, desperate to grab onto anything that might make this date less awkward. “I like to jog, too. I’ll listen to books when I do it to pass the time. Do you read at all?”

Brad’s eyes flicked to yours, then back to the jazz singer. Uninterested, bored, and inconvenienced. That’s what his glance told you.

“People who need books or music when they run aren’t capable of self-reflection. It’s how you grow as a human being, you know? You should try it.”

You blinked. Who the fuck does this guy think he is? A pompous, arrogant, prick seemed like the winning description, and you chuckled as you looped your purse handle over your shoulder.

“Well, Brad.” You stood from your seat, drawing his attention away from the band. “Congratulations. You win. I think this is quite possibly the worst date I’ve ever been on, and that’s saying a lot.”

You didn’t deem him with an explanation as you exited the restaurant, but a vivid memory flashed in your mind of Billy standing you up on your anniversary last year. Yeah, that date was terrible, but at least Billy hadn’t insulted you after standing you up. He’d spent weeks apologizing with flowers, jewelry, and even cutting down on his time at Anvil so he could spend more time with you, but that date would always stick out in your mind as the beginning of the end.

You shook the thoughts from your head, digging through your purse to find your cellphone. Karen was going to explain where the fuck she met this guy, and why she thought setting him up with you would be a good idea. She picked up on the second ring.

“Karen.” You tapped your foot on the sidewalk. “What the fuck?”

“Hey! How was the date?”

Wherever Karen was, it was loud. You could barely understand her through the speaker, muffled by music and what sounded like a crowd of people in the background.

“The date was so bad.” You almost whined. Almost stomped your foot at how unfair the dating world had become. Almost thought about how much easier it was when you were with Billy. “Where did you even meet this guy?”

“At work. Was he an asshole?” She sounded apologetic, but the volume at which she had to scream her question into the phone made the entire interaction feel a little less impactful.

“Grade-A Asshole.” You groaned. “Where are you?”

“I’m at Josie’s, but-”

“Great. I’m on my way.”

You hung up the phone before she could respond and hailed a taxi. You felt a little guilty for barging in on her evening. Karen was a good friend, one that you’d clung to since you and Billy had gone your separate ways, and she deserved a night out without your moping. But the nagging feeling rolling around in the pit of your stomach told you exactly the reason you had to go to Josie’s. If you didn’t go hang out with Karen, you’d end up calling Billy, and the last thing you wanted to do was let him see you after a shitty date. You climbed into the taxi and hoped you could drink away the memories of tonight with Karen once you arrived at Josie’s.

Billy took a hefty sip of his beer as he eavesdropped on Karen’s phone conversation. Technically, it wasn’t eavesdropping if Karen had whacked him on the arm the second her phone started ringing, but it made Billy uncomfortable anyways. What they’d planned felt too much like a trick, and he didn’t want to take advantage of the situation.

“She’s on her way.” Karen grinned, raising her beer in the air to clink bottles with him.

Billy fiddled with the bottle in his hand, unsure if there was anything to be ‘cheersing’ to.

“C’mon, Bill,” Frank grunted, meeting Karen’s still outstretched arm, “It worked. She’s on her way. Now, all you have to do is be a lesser asshole than her date.”

“Don’t you think she’ll be furious when she finds out her entire evening was construed by her ex-boyfriend and best friends? She doesn’t even want to see me.”

“Trust me, Billy,” Karen angled her head for emphasis, “She does. She just won’t admit it.”

“How do you know, though?”

“I see it on her face, and hear it in her voice, and she’s still sleeping on my couch. And you know what that tells me?”

Billy rolled his eyes. “What does that tell you, Karen?”

Karen’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “That she’s not looking for another apartment. That she still has hope that she’ll be able to go home, to your apartment.”

Billy shook his head. “The market is insane. Maybe she just can’t find an affordable one.”

“I saw three listed in the paper this morning. She’s not looking, Billy. She misses you.”

Billy groaned, dragging his hands over his face. This entire situation was completely and totally fucked, and it was completely and totally his fault. He’d always been warned that his ambition would get the best of him. You’d slipped through his fingers so quickly that he got whiplash when he thought about the end of the relationship. It was like you were there one day and gone the next, and he had no idea how he ended up alone, stranded in his kitchen in the middle of the night because the idea of going to bed without you hurt too much.

“What if it’s too late? What if I can’t fix it?”

“All you can do is try, Bill.” Frank shrugged.

“She loves you.” Karen spoke firmly, tapping her finger on the table, “And you love her. But she needs to know that. You have to show her that you love her.”

“How? I thought I was doing that before.” Billy let out a disgruntled breath and cleared his throat.

“Your priorities need to change. She deserves better than last-minute cancellations and rescheduled dates. You’re your own boss, Billy. You make the rules, and no matter how much money you spend on her, or how many gifts you buy her, she’s always going to remember the times that you didn’t show up.”

Billy nodded. Karen was right, as usual. There’d been a significant change in the amount of time Billy was spending at Anvil, sometimes returning home early in the morning, only to change suits and leave again. It wasn’t your fault – it never was – but Billy couldn’t help himself from falling back into his old patterns. When shit got too real, he retreated, and it ended up costing him the most important thing in his life.

Tonight was his chance to fix everything – to bring you home, to remind you that he adored you, to show you that his life was falling apart without you in it. All he had to do was get you to listen, and he was sure everything else would fall into place.

You took three steps into the bar before swiveling around and marching out in a dramatic fashion. Cursing Karen for conveniently forgetting to mention that Billy was with her, you tried not to stomp down the sidewalk that led to Karen’s apartment. If you had an apartment of your own, you’d surely be stomping your way there instead.

You didn’t make it far before you heard your name being called behind you. Two distinct voices trailed you, but you were more focused on the lack of the third. Had he stayed behind at the bar? You swung around, almost slamming into Frank’s chest. Karen was a few steps behind him, and behind her, stood beautiful and broken Billy, hands in his pants pockets.

“What?” You screeched, eyes flickering between the group.

“I just wanted to tell you thaaaat,” Karen’s eyes twinkled, and you should’ve known that she was about to make your night go from bad to worse, “I’m going back to my apartment with my boyfriend, who is going to do very loud things to me for hours. If I were you, I’d steer clear of the whole block tonight.”

You rolled your eyes and looked at Frank, whose innocent expression gave away Karen’s plan faster than you could piece it together. Clearly, this coup had been planned, and they were leaving you with no option but to spend time with Billy.

“Is that so?” You narrowed your eyes at her, hoping she could read every nasty thought you’d ever had about her in your gaze.

“Yep!” She hooked an arm through Frank’s and tugged him down the sidewalk. “See you tomorrow!”

You watched them until they turned a corner, and you could no longer see them. When you turned to face Billy again, he had inched closer to you, standing a heady meter away with his hands still in his pockets.

“Did you plan this?”

The anger in your voice echoed across the concrete, slamming into Billy. He grasped his chest as if you’d shot him in the heart.

“No. I didn’t even know there was a plan until I showed up at Josie’s earlier.”

You hesitated to believe him, but something in the way he was looking at you told you to trust him. You looked him up and down, focusing on the way he looked worse than you’d ever seen him. For a brief second, you felt triumph over it. He deserved this after everything he did to you. He deserved to feel like shit. The triumph faded faster than it came, and an overwhelming sadness replaced the ire thoughts you were having about him.

There were bags under his eyes, and you could tell he hadn’t been sleeping well. He never did when he couldn’t sleep with you. The facial hair that he usually kept so neat and maintained had grown beyond his usual boundaries, and the fact that he kept subconsciously scratching at it told you he didn’t like it. You tried not to let it get to you. You probably looked like shit, too.

“How’ve you been?” His focus remained wholly on you. You rubbed the back of your neck to try and shake off his stare.

“We don’t have to do this, Bil.” You looked at the ground, focusing on the crack in the concrete that crawled its way across the sidewalk, drawing a line inbetween you and Billy. You couldn’t decide if that was fitting, or incredibly sad. Maybe it was both.

“We’re not doing anything.” He shook his head innocently.

“You know what I mea-”

“Come home.”

There was a pregnant pause in the conversation as the two of you eyed each other.

“Billy, I-”

“Just for tonight. Until Karen’s apartment is...safe again.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, searching for an ulterior motive. And of course, there was an ulterior motive. You couldn’t blame him for it, because you knew if the roles were reversed, you’d be doing the same thing.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” You shook your head, more towards yourself than at him.

“Why not?” He cocked his head to the side.

“You know why.”

He nodded but shrugged his shoulders anyways.

“I’m not going to leave you out here with nowhere to go. It’s either the apartment, or we spend the next few hours in awkward silence at a diner.”

The apartment. Not ‘my’ apartment. He didn’t consider it his when you weren’t there to claim the other half of it. You couldn’t lie to yourself. You wanted so badly to go with him, to see the home that you’d built with him. You wanted so badly to see how he’d faired over the last month without you. It was with all this in mind, and not how much you missed him, that had you nodding, agreeing to go home. Just for a visit, you repeated in your mind, just for a visit.

When you stepped into what was once the living room you shared with Billy, you were struck with an overwhelming sense of familiarity. There was nothing different about it, except that the bookshelf was a little less stuffed than usual. You’d grabbed your favorites on your way out, unable to part with them, even just for a little bit.

“Can I get you some wine?” Billy asked, already heading toward the kitchen to pour himself a glass. You nodded, shrugging your jacket off and trying to ignore the strangeness of being treated like a guest in the home that you’d lived in for years.

When Billy returned with two particularly full glasses, you plopped down on the couch. You didn’t know how to act, or what to say, or who to be when you were around him anymore and falling back into old habits seemed like a grand way to get your feelings hurt again.

“You didn’t answer my question earlier.” Billy took a swig from his glass, sitting on the armchair across from the couch. You silently thanked the universe that he had put distance between the two of you. The closer he was, the less clearly you could think.

“Which one?”

“How’ve you been?”

“Oh.” You took a sip, only because it gave you something to do with your hands. “I’ve been alright.”

He smiled, but the corners of his mouth didn’t reach his eyes. Anyone who looked at you longer than two seconds could see that you’re clearly not doing alright, but you’d grown comfortable living in denial, and you weren’t going to admit how not alright you were.

“Heard your date didn’t go well.”

You scoffed. Maybe it was the wine, or the way he looked smug about the fact that you’d had a shitty date, but you couldn’t help what came out of your mouth next.

“Fuck you, Billy. It’s none of your business.”

Billy looked startled by your outburst. You gulped down another mouthful of wine before rubbing your hand down your face.

“I’m sorry.” You shook your head. “I don’t know where that came from.”

“It’s okay. I probably deserve it.” He shrugged, leaning back in his seat.

“What happened to us?” You asked, gazing at the ceiling.

“You tell me, sunflower. You’re the one that left.”

Your heart ached at the nickname. It wasn’t fair that he used it, especially when you were clearly in a vulnerable mood, but you cherished it anyways.

“You left first.”

It was barely a whisper, said so quietly that you weren’t quite sure he had heard you. If the palpable tension that followed wasn’t indicative of his acknowledgment, the deep sigh that erupted from his chest soon after was indication enough. He stayed quiet, swirling the remaining wine in his glass around in small circles.

You stared at him, unflinching in your assessment of his body language. He didn’t look as miserable as you felt, and a spark of anger ignited in your belly because of it.

“Did you ever really love me, Bil?” You barked. It was bait, and both of you knew it. You’d never questioned his love for you, and he knew you were trying to get a rise out of him, but he couldn’t help stepping up to the plate and taking the bait.

“What kind of fucking question is that?” He watched you closely. You tried not to let your triumph show on your face. “Of course, I love you.”

He stood from his seat and rested his hands on his hips, willing you to do the same. Meet him where he stood, he dared, show him how much you still care. You were nothing if not a daredevil. You joined him in the middle of the room, pressing your index finger into his chest.

“Well then, what the fuck happened?”

“You. Tell. Me.” He gritted from between clenched teeth.

Billy wasn’t being fair to you, and he knew it. You were asking a valid question, and he was cowering behind the anger and frustration in the room.

“I can’t do this again, Bil.” You turned, reaching for your purse. A heavy tug on your elbow had you crashing into Billy’s chest, where he enveloped his arms around you and pulled you into a crushing hold.

“You’re not leaving, are you?”

There was a softness in his voice that tugged at your heartstrings. For a moment, you forgot you were speaking to a grown man and not an orphaned little boy. You blew a long breath out before shaking your head. He rested his forehead against your shoulder.

“No, Bil. I’m not leaving.”

“I always knew I’d end up breaking your pretty heart.” His voice was muffled by your shoulder, but you didn’t miss the slight crack in his words. “I knew I’d fuck it up eventually.”

“I don’t understand what happened. Everything was fine, and then it wasn’t.” You blinked away the tears that had built up on your waterline.

“I know, baby. I’m so sorry.”

You cupped his face as he dropped to his knees in front of you. His eyes, now red-rimmed and glassy, pleaded with you, and you couldn’t stop yourself from lowering your body next to his.

“What’s going on?” You asked him, eyes flickering between his fast-blinking eyelids and rapidly shaking hands.

“I was afraid.” He cleared his throat. “Am. I am afraid.”

“Of what? Where is this coming from?” You gaped. You knew Billy struggled with commitment more than most – it had taken him almost a year of serious dating before he could tell you he loved you – but you thought he had moved past that.

“Tom’s getting married.”

Your brow furrowed. “What does Tom have to do with us?”

“Tom’s getting married, and all I can think about is how I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to give that to you, and how you deserve someone who can give you everything you want and more.”

You let his words sink into your chest, dissecting every interaction you’d had with him leading up to your breakup. It had been a slow descent, and when it finally became too much, you’d left with no clue how you ended up alone and sleeping on Karen’s couch every night.

“Billy,” You shuttered, shaking your head as tears began to travel down your cheeks, “I never said I wanted any of that.”

“It’s what you deserve.”

“But it’s not what I want. Why couldn’t you see that I was happy with the way things were?”

“I was terrified that you’d leave me. And then I became a shit boyfriend, and you really did leave me, and it was the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

You wiped the tears from under your eyes and sniffled. “You weren’t always a shit boyfriend.”

Billy snorted, letting a small smile cross his face as he tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear.

“Can you ever forgive me, sunflower?”

You considered his question. If you were being completely honest, you’d forgiven him as soon as you saw his pretty, brown eyes across the bar earlier, so sad and searching for you.

“Can you promise that you’ll tell me when you’re feeling like this again, instead of shutting me out?” You cupped his cheek, eyes flicking down to his lips and then back up to his eyes.

“I can promise that I’ll try.” He swallowed, searching your expression. “Is that enough?”

You lurched forward, pressing your lips to his. The kiss tasted of red wine and salt, and you were suddenly grateful that you’d slumped to the floor earlier instead of waiting until now, when your knees were weak and shaking with anticipation.

“I love you.” Billy mumbled inbetween kisses.

“Show me.” You responded, opening yourself to him for the first time in over a month.

He took you right there on the living room floor, a flurry of intertwined limbs, swollen lips, and skin brushing skin. His lips only left yours long enough to whisper praises against your neck before returning to yours in a bruising kiss. When you came apart underneath him, you couldn’t stop the tears from forming, but he didn’t mind. He kissed the tears away, apologies in their own right, as he continued showing you how much he loved you.

Later on, after hours of reconciliation and apologies, you collapsed next to Billy on the couch. You’d lost your clothes a long time ago, only covered with the throw blanket you’d purchased the year before on a whim, and you watched as he sighed in quiet contemplation.

“We should tell Karen and Frank that their plan worked.” You rested your head on his shoulder. He smiled, pulling you into his chest.

“Let them figure it out on their own. They’ll come around at some point tomorrow when you still haven’t gone back.”

He was right. The next morning, when Karen and Frank knocked on the door, you and Billy were still cuddled together on the couch, so worn out from the night before that you hadn’t been able to muster up the energy to move to the bedroom. You took one glance at Billy before you were on him again, uncaring that your friends were waiting. That’s fine, you thought, let them wait. Let them wait.

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chvoswxtch · 1 year

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Imagine Frank getting head from reader with a tongue piercing 🥰

nonnie...let’s discuss below the cut.

if you're under 18, look away.

this may be more information than you ever wanted to know about me, but as someone who has been…entertained, if you will, by someone with a tongue piercing-I feel like i'm qualified to speak on this. that being said...

frank castle & a partner with a tongue piercing

frank has never been with anyone that’s had a tongue piercing. I am like almost 100% certain of that. I think it’s something that would definitely intrigue him if he had a partner that had one

the first time he kisses you, like really kisses you with it, I think it would take some getting used to (it’s a different sensation) but eventually his mind would begin to wander because tongue piercings are sexy and you’re sexy so.

"feels like you got a bullet in your mouth. kinda tastes like it too. it ain't bad, though." "I...don't even wanna know why you know what that feels or tastes like, frank."

he’s such a gentleman sometimes, I feel like he doesn’t ask for head, unless he’s in a mood™️ (you feel me) like he’s just happy to fucking be there and get to touch you and if you’re gracious enough to offer your mouth to him, he’s not gonna say no

but he really fucking wants you to because he wants to know what it feels like with your piercing like he’s so curious about it and he finds himself getting hard when you talk because he can't stop looking at your tongue and he just keeps thinking about how good it would feel if you sucked him off with it

and since you can read him like a fucking book you know exactly what he wants but won’t ask for, but that doesn’t stop you from teasing the fuck out of him to make him extra sensitive because that’s where the real fun begins

you’d turn this giant mountain of a man into a puddle: lips trailing over every inch of his neck, hands slipping underneath his shirt to lightly trail your fingertips along his warm skin, fiddling with the buckle of his belt, ghosting your mouth over his earlobe asking so sweetly if he would let you try something when you both already know he would never deny you, especially not with you on his lap running your tongue over that spot at the juncture of his neck that makes him feral

“course, sweetheart. whatever you want, know you don’t gotta ask.”

and poor frankie is trying so hard to be patient and contain himself, moving his hips slightly upwards as you rocked yours on his lap slowly, soft grunts and noises getting caught in the back of his throat as his jeans get impossibly tighter

the second you sink between his knees onto the floor, frank’s jaw nearly falls along with you and his chest starts to rise and fall quickly because he knows exactly what’s coming and he can’t hide the excitement and hunger in his eyes

you don’t even bother teasing him anymore since he’s been so sweet and patient, you just get right to work freeing his massive cock from his jeans, keeping eye contact as you open your mouth to show him your tongue, watching the way his adam’s apple bobs when he swallows thickly seeing the metal gleam in the dim light

and he nearly comes right there the first time he feels the metal ball glide along the sensitive slit of his tip because fuck he thought it would feel good-but it’s even better than he could’ve imagined

there’s a coolness to the metal despite the warmth from your mouth, and the light pressure of it gliding along the veins on his length as you take him further into your mouth drives him fucking crazy

he likes it the most when you focus on the head of his cock, enjoying the way the metal feels slipping along the most sensitive part of him, and his knuckles are solid white from gripping onto the edge of the couch so hard because he wants to come so badly because it feels so fucking good but he also doesn’t think he could handle it if you stopped

he’s never felt anything like it before and he can’t even speak to tell you how good it feels. his entire jaw is slack as he watches you in awe, doing his best not to buck his hips into your face, but then you look up at him through your lashes and smirk around his goddamn cock and he loses it

because he knows you figured him out. because you know him so fucking well. you always know what he wants, even if he never hints at it, and it’s one of the things he loves most about you

he’s never come as hard as does when he suddenly finishes in your mouth, and he’s so blissed out, he doesn’t even feel embarrassed about how fast he came as the sound of your cute giggles fills his ears entirely

he just grins when you tell him he should speak up if he wants something

“where’s the fun in that? I like your little surprises.”

#I wanna give this man the sloppiest messiest best head he’s ever had in his life #he deserves it #also I kinda want my tongue pierced now #so thanks nonnie #what’s one more piercing #frank castle #frank castle headcanon #frank castle request #frank castle smut #frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #the punisher #the punisher headcannon #the punisher smut

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leprosycock · 10 months

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do u have any fav book recs!???? love ur literary mind and would love to know if u have any good must reads sorry this is random

thank you!! i don't read nearly as often as i should but i have a lot of books that i love:

the furry trap by josh simmons is a wildly weird, disgusting, and obscene piece of work that i've loved for years. it's satirical and deranged and very darkly funny and his style is so unique. it's a collection of eleven short comics and some standalone illustrations. my favorites are cock bone, christmas eve, and demonwood, but none of them are bad. at least in my opinion. a lot of people think it's just edgy for edgy's sake, but even if it is, it's still really fucking good. i always find that criticism to be so funny because it's only ever flung at media with any kind of sex and violence and taboos in it.

tender is the flesh by agustina bazterrica is one that a lot of people are familiar with, but it's far from overrated. it's about a world in which cannibalism is legal and humans are bred, bought, and sold for meat. a very lonely, broken, divorced blue-collar man begins to form a bond with a specimen despite any physical contact with her being expressly forbidden. it's twisted and stomach-churning and intimate and i love it.

poison for breakfast by lemony snicket is insanely funny and tender and witty and entertaining. it's essentially an unreliable autobiography that follows strings of consciousness and memories and musings as he panics after getting a note under his door that tells him he had poison for breakfast. it's short and sweet and there are so many wonderful poignant lines throughout it that made me close the book for a second and think for a while.

the wasp factory by iain banks is awesome and it's about a sixteen year old boy named frank with a very fragile older brother who's been sent to a psych ward. frank is ruthlessly violent and unstable and he takes all his anger and frustration and bloodlust out on helpless animals, either human or non. it has a really interesting ambiance to it that traps you in both this violent teenager's headspace and this murky, unsettling little scottish village and things just get worse and worse until you realize you can't get out. highly recommend!

someone who will love you in all your damaged glory by raphael bob-waksberg is a fantastic collection of surreal/sci-fi-based stories that have one foot firmly grounded in realism and very human relationships. it's very vulnerable and tender and tragic and romantic. this is the same author who created bojack horseman, so if you're into that show's brand of drama, you'll really love this

i hope you find me: the love poems of craigslist's missed connections by alan feuer is one of my most favorite little coffee table books ever. it's what it says on the tin: dozens of posts from the missed connections section of craigslist are compiled and wrangled into individual poems and it's really fascinating and it makes my heart ache to see all these very real little individual cases of lost love. i think it's really important to study real people just as much as stories that people can craft.

i luv halloween by benjamin roman and keith giffen is a HIGHLY underrated, EXTREMELY early 00s trilogy about zombies, aliens, and a group of really shitty, violent, obnoxious children who get stuck in the midst of global panic around halloween. it's super edgy and indulgent and gory and gross and childish and it's a whole lotta fun. i go crazy for the art style and the general mindless self indulgence of it all

memories of my melancholy whores (memoria de mis putas tristes) by gabriel garcia marquez is a really lovely and flowery novelette about a ninety year old man who's on his deathbed and he believes that true love will help him feel alive again. he manages to find it in a very young prostitute and reflects on what sets her apart from the others. a lot of people call it the spanish lolita, but it's wildly different. really the only similarities are falling in love with a young girl and realizing she's different than you envisioned her to be at first. it's not for everyone, but i think marquez's prose is beautiful. pretty much everything in his bibliography is worth checking out, he's a genius

holy robots by vasilina orlova is a stunning collection of poetry and it uses the ideas of humans falling in love with and forming lives with machines that try very hard to be human but can't quite do it to illustrate real-world relationship struggles. it also delves into other themes of nature and pure romance as it goes along. it's a quick read and it's so worth checking out, i love it to death

arkham asylum: a serious house on serious earth by grant morrison and dave mckean is a standalone batman comic that's VERY worth reading even if you only have a passive knowledge of batman. it's a beautiful piece of work all on its own. the art style is absolutely fucking gorgeous and it's unlike anything i've ever seen. essentially, the inmates at arkham have overtaken the asylum and batman has to sacrifice himself in order to save the hostages. thus, he subjects himself to brutal psychological torture at the hands of the criminals he's put in the asylum himself and he wastes away little by little. it's good!! it's so good!!!!!

stray toasters by bill sienkiewicz is one of the most intense, gorgeous, twisted, and surreal experiences i've ever had while reading a graphic novel. it might take you a couple of reads for it to really sink in because it's not at all straightforward, but it's a fucking masterpiece of art and writing and it really influenced a lot of my own work and the way i tend to approach art. essentially, it's about a lonely, burnt-out detective who gets released from a psych ward to hunt down a serial killer who's mutilating housewives and young children. it's insanely difficult to find physical copies of, so i would personally just read it online.

#thank you for asking!!! i know a lot of these aren't novels but also: i think a library should be greatly varied #and i'm really really into graphic novels. that's why i went to school #if you're an adult who doesn't read comic books i h8 you there's a whole world you'll never know about #bunnyaskz

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rmhashauthor · 11 months

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"Pet", fiction in 4 parts - Part 1

I... don't know what happened this week, except that I sat down and this... thing... demanded to be done so I did it.

Also hi, it's been a while since my last post so consider this an apology. I'm back to working full-time again and it's taken a while to adjust to the new routine.

If you are under 18, buzz off or dni/censor yourself. This is grown-up stuff.

**********

Taun looked down at the female he'd just welcomed onto his ship. On the information download she'd seemed smaller, defenseless, not quite the type of female he preferred, but now that she stood before him there was more substance to her and a curious, intelligent shine to her eyes. She wasn't bad to look either, her skin lustrous and gold-brown and eyes to match, with hints of gold and copper. She had curly hair as well, long and thick like a Nuani and deep black in color. I want to touch it. “Hello, pet.”

A little shy, but openly enough she replied, “Hey. Um, should I call you 'master' or–“

“You can call me whatever you want, but my mother named me Taun.”

“Kira.” She paused. “Since your name is Taun, I'll call you that.” Her frankness sent an odd quiver down his spine. That's... interesting.

“That's fine. So, I imagine you understand the situation?”

Kira nodded, dark curls bobbing. “Yeah, I get it.”

“You're not afraid?”

One of Kira's brows cocked. “If you were afraid of someone, would you show it?”

Taun chuckled. “You're a bold little thing, aren't you? Well, that's fine. I wouldn't want a frightened little milksop hiding behind my legs all the time.”

“I feel the same way about kids. Is that why you picked me instead of a Leagan woman, you don't want me to pop out a bunch of babies?”

Taun shook his head. “That's true, but it's not the only reason. You struck me as being entertaining – so far, I'm correct.” He cleared his throat and reached up to run a hand through his blue-dyed crest. He saw her eyes follow his hand and gave his crest a ruffle. “So, um, am I anything like you thought?”

“You're taller than I expected,” she told him bluntly. “But you're fit, so that's nice. And I like the blue, it goes with your eyes.” For a moment Taun was dumbstruck. Lots of women had complimented him on his pelt, the attractive shade of cloud-grey and its darker striped pattern on his back and shoulders being particularly liked. Most Leagan males were either tan, black or grey, and the striping wasn't exactly universal but not common either. Taun was used to the attention he got from Leagan women, but this new species was definitely triggering something. “So,” she said, interrupting his thoughts, “you asked for a pet?”

“Ah, yes...” There was only one reason to have a sentient pet, but Taun wasn't about to just push her down and have his way – it wouldn't be right, and he wanted his new companion to want to be in his company, or at least have reason to tolerate it. “Do you, um, did you bring anything with you?”

Kira shook her head. “Just this,” she indicated a small bag at her side. “It's not much, just some clothes and combs and things.”

“Hmm, right. Well, my cabin's this way.” Taun gestured to the narrow passageway leading out of the cargo hold and towards the living space he'd carved over the years by removing walls and re-figuring the life-support to make room for his greenhouse and hydroponics works. He was proud of the space, and wondered if his new companion/pet/playmate would be impressed. Leading Kira towards it Taun breathed in the cool, humid air as they passed the first of the misting units, pausing when he heard her draw a surprised breath. He turned back to her, briefly fixated on the wide darkness of her eyes as she paused next to the racks of clustered leaves and twining vines. “Do you like plants?”

“Oh, yeah... This is... Wow. What do you do with all these, eat them?”

“Some, others I sell, and a few I keep. Please don't touch anything yet, some are toxic and I have to use gloves.” Kira nodded and said nothing else. They continued to the main area, this unit populated with hardier greens that weren't dangerous to touch. “Everything in here is safe,” he told her, “I'll show you the ones you can eat later.” He showed her the next room, a standard-size bunk he'd expanded across the narrow closet-like room until it was essentially a cubbyhole with storage above and below. “I sleep in here.” The expectation was that she'd sleep with him, and the prospect of it raised his crest at the back of his neck. “Hope you don't mind smaller spaces.”

Kira leaned in, her hair falling over her shoulders as she peered into the shadowy closet. “It's bigger than my bunk back on the colony, it's nice. Cozy.” She straightened and Taun noticed again how she came up to his nose and not much farther. Her expression wasn't quite a smile, but her wide dark eyes certainly did when she raised them to his. “Nice place, I could do a lot worse.”

Taun felt giddy. “Um, so... Shower's through there,” he pointed at a small grey room fitted with water spigots and tubing. “The main facilities too, use whatever you want.” To his complete surprise, Kira reached out and touched the lapel of his jacket, smoothing it where it had flipped up. A smooth, clean smell rose up from her hand to his nose and Taun's nostrils flared as he breathed it in. Do humans have pheromones? “Have... Have you eaten yet?”

“I could eat,” Kira slipped her small bag from her shoulder and laid it on the bedding platform. “Can I help? I can cook a little.”

Taun shook his head. “You don't have to do that. It's your first night here, you should relax, get to know the place. Maybe unpack?” He did not miss the part where she ran her eyes up and down his tall, lean frame. You're fit, so that's nice. Taun began to sweat. Their arrangement, common enough among Leagans but apparently still abnormal to most humans, came with the understanding that the 'pet' would be open to being intimate with her male counterpart, and the thought of later tonight testing their compatibility squeezed warm fingers around the base of his cock.

“I could go for a shower,” she said. It was a question, but not phrased as one. She was letting him know she could keep herself busy, stay out of the way while he worked.

“Of course.” She's so direct. I like it. “I'll get started in here. If you don't mind, I'd like you to be moderate on the water–“

“If I can spend more than five minutes in the shower, I'm happy.” Coming from a colony she was likely used to conserving water, but Taun knew he had a thousand liters on board and another five hundred circulating in the hydroponic system.

“Ten – fifteen max.”

“Fifteen?” Kira's gold-flecked dark eyes glittered. “Wow... I hope this 'pet' thing works out, I'll be living like a queen.” Cheekily she smoothed his collar again, brushing the fuzz over his collar-bone with a fingertip before turning and stepping away. Taun waited for her to retrieve her bag and vanish behind the door to the shower-room before gasping for air. Gods, what did I get myself into?! When he'd made his desire for a pet known, he never expected a human to respond to his request – everything he'd heard about humans painted them all as a prudish, somewhat backwards species reluctant to embrace the multi-ethnic universe beyond their home system. Taun decided to pull out all the stops tonight.

First, dinner and getting to know each other. He tried not to think about what might happen if all of that went well, if she agreed to take their meeting to the next level and stay over. I'm nervous, when was the last time I was nervous? Kira looked healthy, had certainly smelled good, so it must not have been a terribly hard life. Still, it would be his responsibility to make sure she was properly cared for – it was his ship, after all, and Taun shouldered responsibility for anyone who came aboard. He listened for the sound of the shower pump, and when it engaged he went off to the greenhouse in search of fruits, vegetables and greens.

Part 2

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dailylooneys · 11 months

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Happy 80th Birthday to Private Snafu!

Snafu.......Situation Normal All........All Fouled Up!

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A series of World War 2-themed animated short films screened for young military men. They were mainly instructional, educational films, but still contained that same irreverent, slapstick comedy style of humor of the Looney Tunes & Merrie Melodies, thanks to the contributions of the boys of Termite Terrace: Chuck Jones, Bob Clampett, Friz Freleng and Frank Tashlin, and voice legend Mel Blanc.

The intention these cartoons had on the military audiences was that, the titular character, Private Snafu was an incompetent soldier that was meant to illustrate, in more straightforward way, what NOT to do (true to his name that is), with practically each short ending with Snafu getting blown.

Imagine how different it could've been if Disney had done these instead of Warner Bros., as that was the United States Army’s first choice. But that didn't happen as Leon Schlesinger would bid lower than Disney.

These shorts, of course, generally remained obscure in the minds of the mainstream audiences (until recently that is) as they never were intended to be shown in public theaters. As Martha Sigall, a staff of the ink-and-paint department at Leon Schlesinger Studios, stated these Private Snafu cartoons were top secret. They wore ID badges, did fingerprints, got FBI approval and were given ten cels rather than the usual thirty cels, to prevent them from knowing about the stories.

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Therefore, it was never made for a general audiences of kids and adults as the publicly released Looney Tunes shorts were, especially considering it’s content; mild swearing (i.e., damn, hell) and fanservice displayed all over these cartoons that couldn't have been possible in the days of the Hays Code (it's especially surprising to note that Ted Geisel, AKA Dr. Seuss, of all people, was the main writer for THESE!!! Wowie!!!!).

Fun fact: (one of the shorts titled “Censored” was shown on Cartoon Network’s trivia show Toonheads late at night with half of the scene featuring a topless Sally Lou cut out!)

And, naturally, because this was a WWII-themed series, featured a good deal of derogatory depictions/imagery of Japanese/Germans and Nazis (which will not be shown here).

It's interesting to see not only how strongly connected Private Snafu is to the Looney Tunes, considering, not only the same style of humor, but the two cameo appearances of Bugs Bunny (Gas and Three Brothers), which could make Snafu himself a Looney Tune.

This is especially considering his early bird cameo in Chuck Jones’s The Draft Horse.

Later on, Private Snafu would not only be done by Warner Bros., but also by it’s competitors, like MGM, UPA, Harman-Ising and Disney.

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Two shorts were left unproduced. One of them was originally going to be directed by none other Tex Avery at MGM. Too bad that didn’t happen!!

Though the Private Snafu series maybe a time capsule of World War 2, as oppose to being as timeless as the classic Looney Tunes cartoons are, they still serve as a fascinating historical art, a look at what our world was going through, and still included a lot of the trademark style of humor seen in the Warner Bros. cartoons that still kept it entertaining enough.

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panelshowsource · 7 months

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sorry this is so long — i let my inbox back up a little but also some of these are so thoughtful and i hate not responding thoughtfully!

remember to block the tag 'long post' if you hate seeing long posts :')

first of all aww anon thank you so much and second of all you don't watch taskmaster? how can you stand following my blog if you don't? hahahahah especially during taskmaster season i feel so bad the blog ends up being like 70% tm even though if i could have it may way i'd never gif new content and just gif totally random old content like always hehehehehe but it's cute to me how many hog fans are in my inbox these days! i'll try and gif it more for you guys :)

and you should watch taskmaster!!! and come back and tell me what you think!! start with s1!!! it's on the masterpost linked in my bio!

idk anon you'd have to ask them that but generally they would consider themselves to be irish-american; i wasn't trying to make a statement about that when i said that i think new yorkers understand a person like ed, though i think it's far to say that even diasporic communities will retain (at least) a handful of characteristics and nuances from their homelands

yesssss we all love ed! i think a lot of us know him from mock the week and his bffship with dara (i have some of their travel buddy series on my non-panel show masterpost!), but of course he's also an accomplished standup!

actually, just last month in an exclusive with metro he said this:

It seems remarkable Ed hasn’t appeared yet in its 16 seasons. ‘They haven’t asked. If they had, I would,’ Ed said, with a dash of longing. ‘There’s really only one slot per series of someone answering my description,’ he mused. ‘We’re kind of the most overprescribed demographic in the industry. There’s no shortage of people who look and sound like me that are ahead of me in the queue for that slot.’ Even so, it would have been nice… Greg? Are you listening?

(ps. that article claiming 8 out of 10 cats is cancelled... 👀 don't get me wrong, i know it's been a couple years since it's been on, but afaik no cancellation was ever announced 👀)

i know a lot of people are very hung up on the fact david mitchell said he wouldn't do taskmaster — and i'm a sure there are a handful of others who either wouldn't or couldn't when they were asked (jack dee had a scheduling conflict back in the day, right? and alex still desperately wants him?) — but one thing that has been consistently reinforced for years, and especially since taskmaster moved to channel 4, is it is far and away the biggest, most in-demand opportunity amongst comedians and light entertainers (— on network television; of course, if you're standup, your own standup special on channel 4, netflix, whatever has gotta be number one, but i disgress). taskmaster is huge: everyone talks about how comedians play 100-seat rooms, go on taskmaster, and then BOOM sell out massive tours. the show can really change your life, so there is hardly a comedian who wouldn't go on if given the chance — especially someone like ed, who i had mentioned a couple months ago being of the jenny eclair variety (an opportunist; professional jealousy ain't no stranger). i know he's waiting for that damn phone to ring!

and i think he makes an incredible point that not many series are gunning for more than one straight white middle-aged man (though it's happened before, of course). actually, i was just thinking about how that role — the white, middle-aged, experienced senior comedian — is chosen; in almost every single case, it's a very famous comedian who will draw viewers and reinforce legitimacy (frank skinner, al murray, hugh dennis, bob mortimer, rhod gilbert, david baddiel, richard herring, lee mack, alan davies, dara, you get the point) or it's a comedian who alex, whether he's friends with them or not, really really likes (tim key, dave gorman, mark watson, tim vine, mike wozniak, i know they're well-known but even ardal o'hanlon and julian clary who alex personally loves). does ed fall into either of those categories? super famous ratings draw or one of alex's friends/comedy heroes? frankly...i'm not sure...and i think that may be what's keeping him mid-way down the list...

still, very cute of the journalist from this article to be gunning so hard for him to be on the show! i have to admit, i know it might seem like i'm biased because i like him, but i really really think he would be really really good on the show. imo — and it's just imo, people will disagree — the most important aspect of the best series of taskmaster is the banter. it's people who speak up, who fight, who tease, who want to win, who want laughs, who play off the audience, who make quick friends, who talk to greg, who talk to alex. ed TALKS. ed wants screen time. ed wants to fuck around. ed wants to win. so i think he would really take advantage of the format and i'd love to see it!

you are allowed to say i told you so! it was amazing! thanks for reading my bullshit, i tried to take it really seriously so i could just link to it any time someone asks me if i've seen it hahahah who was your fave contestant?

i could write a really long response to this because it's something i have — or could find lmfao — a lot to say about, but knowing this post is already gonna be long (hahah i hate myself) lemme try to boil my brain down

1) i covered my personal opinion of what makes the strongest series of taskmaster in my (very long) recent taskmaster nz s2 post; 2) recency bias — it's in the name! people are biased because it's recent [shrug]; 3) A LOT of people have not seen every series of taskmaster (gasp! i know...) so they won't have the full taskmaster uk canon in mind when they're making such claims; 4) there is a strong divergence between the comedy nerds who watch taskmaster for comedy and the light entertainment viewers who watch taskmaster for general pleasantness, and you gotta consider who you're talking to when you're listening to someone's opinion; 5) i think there's a very long convo you could have about the reticence of a huge faction of taskmaster fans to criticise the show/tasks/contestants/alex — which is why a lot of people like it and its community, because it's often an echo chamber of positivity — but maybe we won't have that convo now haha

^ me being concise!! wow never thought we'd see that day

yes totally anon! i'll make massive gifsets of all of them when the season ends, if that works? :)

wow interesting question! i know a few people who watch taskmaster on and off, and i definitely know people like you who enjoy the odd clip (why is it always bob mortimer on wilty lmfaooo), but otherwise i wouldn't say i spend too much time convincing people to watch stuff. wilty and taskmaster are pretty accessible, but a lot of panel shows are about the uk news, uk current events, have uk c-list celeb guests, etc, and i don't think people would be interested. plus, i have you guys!!! (i don't really have internet friends besides posting here and interacting with you guys :'))

not that long ago, i was at a dinner party and someone said, "have you seen that show taskmaster?" and ... do you know what it's like for me!!! ... i had to take a deep breath and say inside my head 'sarah be cool' and i finally went, "i have! fun show haha" and not start TWITCHING ... they were telling the people around us a little bit about it and getting some of the details wrong and i just sat there nodding like :) and didn't correct them bc being a know-it-all isn't cool and i didn't want to risk it 💀

it's too bad we don't have more of a light entertainment culture here, especially a comedian-driven one :(

(so random but speaking of light entertainment has anyone else been seeing michael barrymore all over tiktok? those kids say the funniest things clips are my wholeeeee fyp)

hahaha yesss we do know suzi around here!! though she's not been on many panel shows recently-ish so i probably haven't posted her in a while. if your fave taskmaster contestants are wide-eyed, smiley people who radiate optimism and go-get-em attitudes then suzi would definitely be the one!

did i mention rick edwards or is this just your sly way of bringing up a sexy man? ...i see you anon😏 he has the face of someone who should have been working on that big wall in games of thrones you know the one where jon tory scum snow ended up? that's a specific compliment but just trust me it's complimentary

i'm sorry about your heartbreak :( it's like me with whites, we've all got that one show :(

yesss it so is! <3

is it weird to imagine joe and mike woz in the same room or is that just me...

—

WATCH LINKS MASTERPOST / FAQ / TAGS / ASK

#a #long post

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seekingstars · 24 days

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To The Film Industry in Crisis - Frank O'Hara

Not you, lean quarterlies and swarthy periodicals with your studious incursions toward the pomposity of ants, nor you, experimental theatre in which Emotive Fruition is wedding Poetic Insight perpetually, nor you, promenading Grand Opera, obvious as an ear (though you are close to my heart), but you, Motion Picture Industry, it’s you I love! In times of crisis, we must all decide again and again whom we love. And give credit where it’s due: not to my starched nurse, who taught me how to be bad and not bad rather than good (and has lately availed herself of this information), not to the Catholic Church which is at best an oversolemn introduction to cosmic entertainment, not to the American Legion, which hates everybody, but to you, glorious Silver Screen, tragic Technicolor, amorous Cinemascope, stretching Vistavision and startling Stereophonic Sound, with all your heavenly dimensions and reverberations and iconoclasms! To Richard Barthelmess as the 'tol’able’ boy barefoot and in pants, Jeanette MacDonald of the flaming hair and lips and long, long neck, Sue Carroll as she sits for eternity on the damaged fender of a car and smiles, Ginger Rogers with her pageboy bob like a sausage on her shuffling shoulders, peach-melba-voiced Fred Astaire of the feet, Eric von Stroheim, the seducer of mountain-climbers’ gasping spouses, the Tarzans, each and every one of you (I cannot bring myself to prefer Johnny Weissmuller to Lex Barker, I cannot!), Mae West in a furry sled, her bordello radiance and bland remarks, Rudolph Valentino of the moon, its crushing passions, and moonlike, too, the gentle Norma Shearer, Miriam Hopkins dropping her champagne glass off Joel McCrea’s yacht, and crying into the dappled sea, Clark Gable rescuing Gene Tierney from Russia and Allan Jones rescuing Kitty Carlisle from Harpo Marx, Cornel Wilde coughing blood on the piano keys while Merle Oberon berates, Marilyn Monroe in her little spike heels reeling through Niagara Falls, Joseph Cotten puzzling and Orson Welles puzzled and Dolores del Rio eating orchids for lunch and breaking mirrors, Gloria Swanson reclining, and Jean Harlow reclining and wiggling, and Alice Faye reclining and wiggling and singing, Myrna Loy being calm and wise, William Powell in his stunning urbanity, Elizabeth Taylor blossoming, yes, to you and to all you others, the great, the near-great, the featured, the extras who pass quickly and return in dreams saying your one or two lines, my love! Long may you illumine space with your marvellous appearances, delays and enunciations, and may the money of the world glitteringly cover you as you rest after a long day under the kleig lights with your faces in packs for our edification, the way the clouds come often at night but the heavens operate on the star system. It is a divine precedent you perpetuate! Roll on, reels of celluloid, as the great earth rolls on!

#poetry #frank o'hara

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thelongstrangedrivehome2 · 2 months

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playlist for the fourth of april twenty twenty-four

Lou Reed & John Cale — Hello It’s Me

Warren Zevon — Veracruz

Iggy Pop — All the Way Down

Jimmy Cliff — Miss Jamaica

Frank Black — Sugar Daddy

X-Ray Spex — Let’s Submerge

Kate Bush — Running Up That Hill

Curtis Mayfield — Get Down

The Band — Across The Great Divide

Devo — (I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction

The Clash — Bankrobber

Bob Dylan — Pretty Saro

David Bowie — I’m Deranged

Sonic Youth — What A Waste

Primal Scream — Movin’ On Up

Neko Case — Polar Nettles

Odetta — With God On Our Side

The Kinks — All day and All Of The Night

Depeche Mode — Walking in My Shoes

New York Dolls — Frankenstein

The B-52s — Dance This Mess Around

Shihad — Silvercup

Crowded House — Into Temptation

Bob Dylan — Shot Of Love

The Jam — That’s Entertainment

Diana Ross & The Supremes — Reflections

David Gilmour & David Bowie — Arnold Layne

The Runaways — Cherry Bomb

Radiohead — Bones

Gorillaz feat. Elton John and 6LACK — The Pink Phantom

Anohni & the Johnsons — Hope There’s Someone

The Long, Strange Drive Home — East FM 88.1 107.1

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 1 year

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[Les Ballets Trockadero de Monte Carlo]

* * * * *

Kim Hansen FRANK I was smitten with a waiter in the dance club, not romantically, but in the entertainment division of my delight. He was long bones and turned-out feet, his spine like a tape measure you lock out to its full length, rigid and wobbly all at once. His hair bobbed along with the drinks he carried on the tray palm-up, and flirting looked like a role he had overprepared for, practicing on the DJ, on the bouncer, on every one of us as he delivered our seabreezes and my repeat requests for water. When I was accepted into the master’s program for dance and took my place at the barre, there he was in tights and battered slippers warming up with grand pliés and cambré. Every moment was better with his repartee whispered behind my derriere as we pointed and reached. You could never get all that ballet out of his spine in modern technique. You had to put up with it if you wanted him in your dances, which was worth it for the stories about his days with the Ballet Trockadero where he played Jane Eyre en pointe, bourréeing with a book across the stage and Mother Ginger in the Nutcracker. At the upscale Italian restaurant where he also waited, he stood in fifth position preparing your Caesar salad right at your table, singing along with the piano man to I Don’t Know How To Love Him from Jesus Christ Superstar. One day he called and invited me to dinner, his dime, at The Cork near the apartments where we both lived. He looked lovely in white jeans, his curls shining with something expensive. We raised our glasses and his toast was an announcement of his full-blown AIDS diagnosis as if it were a part he had fought for. From that day on he smelled like Grand Marnier day or night, even when I visited him in a trailer in the Black Hills after he got too sick to live far from family. Neuropathy took the feeling in one arm and leg, and his skin was mottled with sores that makeup couldn’t hide, but as we walked a brief way to the river near his home with his little dog circling his dandy cane, he stayed upright and regal as if a small tiara balanced atop his nest of auburn curls. He wanted me to have his pointe shoes, ending every phone call with that promise. But the phone calls stopped. The shoes never arrived. I miss that man. —from Rattle #79, Spring 2023

#les ballets de trocadero #Rattle #people #dancers #poem #poetry

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graphicpolicy · 11 months

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SDCC 2023: Vampirella's Frazetta Family Legacy Continues!

SDCC 2023: Vampirella's Frazetta Family Legacy Continues! #SDCC #SDCC2023 #SDCC23 #comics #comicbooks

Just over 50 years ago, the one and only Vampirella made her debut under an iconic cover and contributions to her design from Frank Frazetta, the master of modern fantasy art. Now today Dynamite is excited to announce the next step in that legacy, as Frank’s grandaughter Sara Frazetta takes on the Daughter of Drakulon as both writer and cover artist of a prestige series due out this fall and…

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#alberto locatelli #bob freeman #collette turner #dynamite entertainment #ergun gunduz #ernie colon #frank frazetta #lucio parrillo #matt dimasi #neal adams #reed crandall #sara frazetta #tom sutton #vampirella #vampirella: dead flowers

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release-the-mccracken · 4 months

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Prompt: I'm requesting literally anything for this pairing (Matt x Frank), I don't care what you do with it. Possible bonus points if it's just Frank being a whore.

Warnings: Blowjobs, come swallowing, casual sex.

Words: 1,006

You can also read it on ao3

In Frank’s opinion, he’d done everything right. Flirting with guys wasn’t that difficult, most were pretty easy. He didn’t like to generalize, but the crew guys were especially easy to flirt with and be successful.

Some of them were just desperate. They got lonely on tour the same way everyone else did, although they lacked the inherent social advantage that came with being in the band. Many were just infatuated with the various band members they were surrounded by and happy to entertain them.

Frank had spent the night with Matt and a few of the other crew members. He’d brought Matt a beer and complimented him on his work during the night. He had laughed at all his jokes and listened to him like he was the most interesting man ever. And once they’d gotten a bit closer, he’d touched Matt a bit more.

It wasn’t anything obscene, not around the others anyway. Just touching Matt at any chance he’d been given. At one point, he’d complimented Matt on how strong he must be if he moved equipment around. His hand had lingered on Matt’s bicep, smiling at him as he stroked over the warm skin and felt the strong muscle beneath it.

As soon as Matt had blushed at him, teeth tugging at his own lip ring just to have something to do, Frank knew it had worked. It hadn’t taken him long after that to make up some excuse to have Matt walk him to his room.

That had felt like hours ago, although Frank knew he’d only been down on his knees for a few minutes at most.

Matt’s fingers curled tightly into Frank’s hair, squirming around as the other bobbed his head. He’d been polite, asking Frank if he could grab his hair in the first place and then not forcing his head around at all once he’d held onto him. He just grasped at Frank’s hair, perhaps grounding himself. His other hand gripped just as roughly at the sheets.

Matt turned out to be a loud person, making all kinds of noises no matter what Frank did to him. It had been soft hums while they made out, eager and groping at whatever part of Frank he could reach. Then whimpers when Frank teased kisses along his body, leaving gentle bites that earned a gasp nearly every time. He’d settled on straight-out moaning when Frank had finally started blowing him, whining whenever Frank would suck a bit more harshly.

Frank hoped the walls were thick, but he could live with it if they weren’t. The sounds Matt was making were too perfect to give up even if it might mean other people could hear him too. Matt didn’t seem to care about that possibility either, though he might just not have thought of it, considering how distracted he was.

Frank decided that Matt was a good size. He wasn’t too long or too short, he had some girth, but not enough to make Frank’s jaw ache. They seemed to fit together perfectly and he smiled around him at that thought.

He wondered in the back of his head if Matt got the chance to do this very often, but he figured he didn’t. Sure, he was handsome enough, but work kept them busy. With the way he was reacting, Frank would believe he’d never been blown before. He was squirming around, fighting to keep himself still. Frank’s hands had found his thighs not long into it, holding him down a bit. Matt had moaned even louder at that, so he figured he was doing something.

In the beginning, Frank hadn’t imagined himself making Matt come like this. It was meant to be foreplay more than anything, but with the noises the other was making, he was desperate to hear what he sounded like when he came from this. They were both young, perhaps Matt would be able to get it up a second time and they could still fuck.

Frank decided if the only thing they did tonight was this, he’d still be happy.

Honestly, he loved going down on guys. The feeling, the taste, the sounds, all of it drove him crazy and Matt seemed to amp all of those things up even more. It was easy to take him all the way down, swallowing around his cock, and listening to the way he moaned breathlessly.

“Pull off, babe. I’m gonna come,” Matt spoke just as breathlessly as he moaned, the pet name slipping from his lips easily. Frank didn’t want to do that, though. And seemingly, Matt got the hint. “Fuck,” He whispered, the word barely audible to Frank.

He continued what he had been doing, keeping the pressure and pace steady since it had been working for Matt. It took longer than he expected it to after that and the idea hit him that Matt had likely told him to pull off a bit early just to avoid accidentally coming before Frank could pull off. He was sweet.

Frank hummed around him without really meaning to, just getting caught up in his own head. It ripped a quiet whine out of Matt, though. So, he did it again.

Fingers tightened in his hair even more and the first spurt hitting the back of his throat surprised him. He swallowed around him every time, barely able to hold Matt’s hips down now. He’d begun jerking slightly with every pulse, wanting to press as deep as he could, wanting to chase that feeling even more.

Matt let out a shaky exhale once he was finally finished, loosening his grasp on Frank’s hair. Frank decided against seeing how much more Matt could take, not wanting to overstimulate him without having a conversation about it first. If they did this again, he’d bring it up. He couldn’t even imagine all the sounds Matt would make when he was overstimulated, every nerve feeling like it was on fire with pleasure.

For now, Frank just rested his head against Matt’s thigh and smiled.

#frank iero #matt cortez #rpf #smut #nsft #my chemical romance #mcr #bandom

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tellthemeerkatsitsfine · 1 year

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I like going back to old pages on comedy message boards, as part of my general obsession with the idea that everything is better and makes more sense if understood in its full context. Also, I find it a combination of interesting, enlightening, and straight-up funny to read early reactions to comedy things that we’d now think of as classics. Look at something that now is a cool vintage thing where knowing about it means you understand this influential piece of comedy history, and see that when it first came out, it was dismissed as newfangled nonsense that doesn’t have any of the heart or talent behind earlier stuff and comedy isn’t what it used to be.

It's not just comedy, this applies to everything. The Beatles were dismissed by many Serious Music Critics, in their day, as shallow teen heartthrob pop music (as opposed to what they were, which were perpetrators and enablers of domestic violence). Bob Dylan was famously dismissed as a sellout in 1965 by some Mancunians who, when I listen to the kind of shit that’s come from a revolution that began by plugging in guitars, I sometimes think may have had a point. I am now just barely old enough to hear some music getting called cool “classic”, when I can remember that music being new and considered shitty pop music that will never be as good as classic rock.

I think I like those in particular for all the above reasons, but also because there is something comforting in seeing someone say something that made total sense given the information they had at the time, and turn out to be wildly wrong. Makes me think about all the things that seem obvious and definitely correct to me now, given all the information I have, and maybe someday, it’ll turn out to all be wrong. Most of the things I think are true now are pretty depressing, so it’s nice to think maybe no one’s ever really right about everything.

There are a lot of comments along these lines in old comedy forum archives, but my favourite by far of all the lines to have not aged well is the person who said in June 2005 that: “Comedians often seem to be of the ‘world owes me a living’ type - no matter how many times they fail, they'll never jack it in and work in an office. Yes, I’m looking at you, John Oliver.” Honestly, doesn��t that give you hope for the future? If you ever feel like you’re so bad at something there’s no point in carrying on and you should give it all up, remember that person who said that in June 2005. If you just keep working at it for another year or so, you too could have Ricky Gervais mention your name to Jon Stewart one time and get to leave everyone who didn’t like you behind.

Anyway, I came across something today that I’d not seen before, which is an article in The Daily Telegraph from August 2005. This is different from other stuff because it’s not just comments from random people in a place where anyone can post, it’s an actual publication. A shit publication, but still, people get paid to write for it. And in 2005, they wrote an article called “Politics kills off comedy at the Edinburgh Fringe”.

The judges have been lamenting the "soul-destroying" lack of humour at this year's award, the comic centrepiece of the Edinburgh Festival which, over its 25-year history, has previously uncovered talent such as Hugh Laurie, Eddie Izzard, Steve Coogan, Jimmy Carr, Frank Skinner, The League of Gentleman and Graham Norton.

When judges meet for the first time today to draw up a long-list for the £7,500 prize, they are expected to be "hard pressed" to find acts to fill all 30 spaces.

Yesterday, they described this year's shows as "silly", "flat" and "of the level of fifth-form humour", and complained that they concentrated too much on politics, particularly on Tony Blair, George W Bush and weapons of mass destruction.

John Pidgeon, the head of entertainment at BBC Radio and chairman of the judges, lamented the "remarkable overuse of the 'C' word".

In 2005, comedy had gotten too political, too sweary, had run out of steam, would never again be great like it was when it was bringing in giants of hard-hitting, seriously talented stand-up like Graham Norton; epitomes of comedy with a real heart and soul like Jimmy Carr; and noted guy who married a teenage student at the place where he was teaching, Frank Skinner. That list of white men is the greatest comedy ever got, and now all this new stuff is just kids trying to be cool with their c-words and their political material but it will never measure up.

I really enjoy this bit from later in the article:

The judges were at a loss to explain why 2005 was so short on talent. Graham Smith, Channel Five's commissioning editor for comedy, last judged the competition in 2003. "You could say there was a surfeit of rich comedy that year. The winner was Daniel Kitson and - just to illustrate how strong it was - Jimmy Carr came second. Any other year the runners-up would have been winners."

I like that paragraph because:

1) Apparently the decline of comedy took exactly two years; it was at the top of its game back in the glory days of 2003, and was dead by 2005.

2) Apparently the likes of Jimmy Carr only coming second is a sign of the incredibly deep talent pool in a comedy competition, that’s how strong the field was back then!

3) They’re talking about the Perrier Award, which Daniel Kitson won in 2002, over fellow nominee Jimmy Carr. In 2003, Demitri Martin won it. I should know, there’s a video on YouTube from 2003 of Adam Hills yelling about Demitri Martin beating him for the Perrier Award while they destroy a cow. Get your facts straight, people.

That aside, I was amazingly not at the 2005 Edinburgh Festival, so I guess I can’t really say whether it was any good. I’ve seen/heard a number of shows that were done there (Tim Minchin’s Darkside, bits of the Zaltzman and Oliver Show, two Daniel Kitson shows, I’ve seen some of what Flight of the Conchords did there that year, Phil Nichol’s Nearly Gay, I’ve seen Dara O’Briain’s 2006 DVD and I’m pretty sure that’s mainly taken from his 2005 Edinburgh show, I've seen shows by Demitri Martin and Flight of the Conchords that would have also been taken from 2005, 2005 had a Mark Watson 24-hour show), and have enjoyed all of them. But also, the ones I’ve seen/heard are the ones that were good enough for someone to still have heard about and bothered to seek out in 2022/2023, I’m sure there was a lot of shit going on in that year too.

So if anyone ever tries to tell you that comedy, or for that matter anything else, had “classic” years and they just don’t make the great stuff the way they used to anymore, remember that people were already complaining about comedy “getting too political these days” by 2005. I’m continually amazed by how often you can go back years, and find the complaints about “look at the problem with [anything] these days, it’s not great the way it used to be” stays exactly the same.

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jules-has-notes · 8 months

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The Sing-Off, s.4 ep.5 — Movie Night

Even before movies had spoken dialogue, they had musical accompaniment. Music can convey or enhance the emotions of a scene, and make a film more impactful. (And when one of your show's production partners is under the same umbrella as several film studios, you can license some of their music pretty easily.)

Group opener

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What's not to love about a catchy song full of big, dramatic moments from a movie about dancing? It's a fabulous way to kick off the "movie night" episode. The arrangers and choreographers clearly had fun with this number, and the singers turned it into a giant party.

Details:

title: (I've Had) The Time of My Life

original performers: Bill Medley & Jennifer Warnes (featured in Dirty Dancing)

written by: John DeNicola, Donald Markowitz, & Franke Previte

arranged by: The Sing-Off arrangers

air date: 18 December 2013

My favorite bits:

the ballroom-inspired choreography

pairing up members of different groups whose voices blend well

the delightful incongruity of goth-punk Tony doing perfect pas de bourrées

Sarah Vela's gorgeous tone on ♫ "Never felt this waaay" ♫

the choreographers sparing some of the vocal percussionists by letting them enter in the last group so they don't have to dance as much (Keeping two different beats with your mouth and your body is hard.)

I figured out how to make a cropped gif for that cute moment between Geoff and Jules.

Trivia:

In order to achieve the cool silhouette effect at the beginning, Tim Foust had to stand (and sing) in a very uncomfortable position.

Once again, one of the Vocal Rush chaperones recorded a rehearsal for the kids from the audience. It's a little fuzzy, but Earl's bright orange shirt, Eli's red pants, Tony's studded black cap, and Honey's red hair make them all pretty easy to spot. Layne is in all gray at the far left. Geoff's one of the blurry dudes near the front on the right, but I'm not sure which one because it seems like the blocking changed a bit before filming.

Theme reveal

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Order of performances

Home Free — "Oh, Pretty Woman" by Roy Orbison (featured in Pretty Woman)

Vocal Rush — "Against All Odds (Take a Look at Me Now)" by Phil Collins (from Against All Odds)

AcoUstiKats — "Old Time Rock and Roll" by Bob Seger (featured in Risky Business)

The Filharmonic — "I Don't Wanna Miss a Thing" by Aerosmith (featured in Armageddon)

VoicePlay — "Don't You (Forget About Me)" by Simple Minds (featured in The Breakfast Club)

Ten — "Skyfall" by Adele (from Skyfall)

Ultimate sing-offs

AcoUstiKats vs. VoicePlay — "Eye of the Tiger" by Survivor (from Rocky III)

Vocal Rush vs. Ten — "Fame" by Irene Cara (from Fame)

Home Free vs. The Filharmonic — "I'm Alright" by Kenny Loggins (from Caddyshack)

VoicePlay performance

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[Here is a longer version that includes the intro package and judges' comments.]

A theme like "movie night" is tailor-made for the theater kids of a cappella. Give them characters and a story, and they'll give you fantastic entertainment. The only stumbling block for this song was that the reality show format hindered them from following their own instincts. Jewel pushed them to be even more "emotional" than the previous episode, which steered them away from giving a performance more true to themselves.

Details:

title: Don't You (Forget About Me)

original performers: Simple Minds (featured in The Breakfast Club)

written by: Keith Forsey & Steve Schiff

arranged by: VoicePlay

air date: 18 December 2013

My favorite bits:

the costumes — a great balance between representing the characters from the movie and their own personalities

Layne subtly snapping them in rather than counting out loud

the gradual layering to fill out the sound

the downward harmony run on the first ♫ "Rain" ♫

everything dropping out when Eli kicks off the polyphony, then building back up one by one

the insistence in their voices during the final section

Trivia:

The judges' biggest critque was that VoicePlay didn't include enough of the song's iconic ♫ "La-la-la-la" ♫ hook. Geoff revealed on Twitter that their first draft of the arrangement did include more of that part, but the producers made them change it.

Shawn Stockman also touched on the fact that they'd been pushed from the beginning into arrangements that framed them more as Honey and her backup singers rather than a group of equals with diverse talents. (Not the only group with that issue.)

Ultimate sing-off vs. AcoUstiKats

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[Here is a longer version that includes the intro package and judges' comments.]

Since all six groups were paired off for battles this episode, they at least got to avoid the fraught selection process. Being able to rehearse against the same groups all week also allowed everyone to really hone their arrangements and interactions, resulting in performances that were more collaborative and fun to watch.

Details:

title: Ultimate Sing-Off – Eye of the Tiger

original performers: Survivor (featured in Rocky III)

written by: Frankie Sullivan & Jim Peterik

arranged by: VoicePlay & The AcoUstiKats

air date: 18 December 2013

My favorite bits:

Honey and Ron playing rock-paper-scissors for who gets to go first

Earl knocking Eli and Geoff's "teeth" out, and Tony's shocked reaction 😲

the ridiculously disproportionate tug of war 💪

Earl's dancing pecs leading straight into a Latin dance beat

the AcoUstiKats making their 12-man "wall of sound" into a physical barrier

Eli fending off the encroaching threats with a Matrix-style dragon kick (and some help from Earl)

the melodramatic tableaux when the final "brawl" breaks out

ending it all on a glorious major chord

Trivia:

It didn't end up in the final episode (for reasons that will become obvious), but this performance got a standing ovation from the audience and the judges.

The groups apparently gave themselves the portmanteau of "CatsPlay", which is just adorable. 😺

Judges' choice

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Eliminated: VoicePlay & AcoUstiKats

Despite the show framing the "ulitmate sing-off" segments as battles with a winner and a loser, the judges bafflingly chose to cut both halves of the showdown between VoicePlay and the AcoUstiKats. It seems that the groups working together to create a more cohesive performance resulted in the judges pitting the three supergroups against each other instead.

This episode was filmed on Geoff's birthday… which means they got kicked off on his birthday. 😒 At least that meant they got to go home and rest for a few days before coming back for the finale?

#VoicePlay #Honey Larochelle #The AcoUstiKats #The Sing-Off #season 4 #live performance #a cappella #music #video #long post

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