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#should probably... check that...
finnlongman · 1 year
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That moment when your abstract gets accepted for a conference... but you submitted it more than four months ago and therefore have no memory of what you actually promised to talk about.
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Finding something cool and thematically rich and wanting to see what other people think abt it and all I find is shipping
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avephelis · 5 months
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somehow forgot to post this for five months but DIGGING UP MY SPREAD FROM DONZINE ✌️✌️ which you can still check out btw!! donnie my garden warrior
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sesamenom · 1 month
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realized the @blumineck pose was perfect for celegorm so here he is!
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theminecraftbee · 7 months
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-slamming bolt upright in a cold sweat- what do you mean verbal contracts cleo. what do you MEAN verbal contracts cleo. artists if you're doing commercial work you're A) charging much higher rates and B) making them SIGN A CONTRACT, right? right? you understand why that's VITAL, right? why having a written contract is VITAL for commercial work? you understand? you make them sign a written contract? please if you go looking in proper artist/graphic design circles i'm sure you can find a basic form that's legal in your locality and doesn't require you talk to a lawyer but if you're doing commercial work you're MAKING THEM SIGN A CONTRACT RIGHT--
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Robin drags Steve to a local art exhibit on a goddamn weeknight. This is not his scene at all.
Pretentious douchebags in scarves discussing if that splatter of paint represents socioeconomic downfall? Nah, this shit is not for him.
Robin ditches him halfway through the exhibit to talk to some sculptor that she’s got a thing for. Honestly, Steve would’ve done the same thing if it were him. But still, Steve is five minutes away from leaving her ass and taking a cab home.
He’s sitting on metal bench, centered a few feet away from the oversized canvas of scattered colors.
It looks like such a mess. Scribbled strokes of paint and lines that bump into curves. Everything intersecting. Someone would probably try to convince him that it represents the artist’s troubled past or fucked up childhood.
To Steve, it’s just a mess.
“What do you think?” A voice asks, joining Steve on the bench.
He looks to be about Steve’s age. Bold features, bolder hairstyle. All black clothes with chunky red combat boots. Elaborate tattoos creeping over the collar of his shirt.
Steve shrugs. “Truthfully? I don’t get it.”
“It’s art. What don’t you get about it?” The guy looks stunned.
Is Steve really about to argue with a complete stranger over lines and colors?
“There’s nothing but lost movements.”
Guess he is.
Steve observes the nameplate next to the canvas and goes off.
“Like this Eddie Munson guy held up a paintbrush and went, ‘fuck it, they’ll never know this is bullshit.’ Honestly, this whole place is a facade for people to masquerade around, pretending to be in tune to artistic expression, but they’re not.”
“They’re not?”
“No.” Steve answers immediately, a little defensive. “Nobody here gives a shit about what the artist is trying to convey, and this artist…”
Steve points at the artwork.
“This Munson guy knew that. Knew he could fool every rich asshole in this place.”
The guy looks at the painting and laughs. He’s got a nice smile, Steve thinks. Wide and genuine. Not too perfect. Not overly rehearsed. Like he doesn’t give out smiles to just anyone.
“Eddie Munson couldn’t fool you though, could he?” He finally says, looking directly at Steve.
The intense eye contact makes Steve a bit fidgety. Nervous. “I guess not, no.”
“I like that.”
“Like what?”
“That you refuse to see what everyone else sees.” The guy turns away, releasing Steve from the gaze. “Even if that would be easier.”
It almost sounded like he was trying to say he likes Steve. Not that Steve would complain if that were true. This guy is not his type, but that doesn’t mean he’s unwilling to expand his definition of type for someone that’s interested in him.
“What do you think about it?” Steve tilts his head towards the canvas.
The guy twists the ring on his thumb, processing an answer. He crosses his legs, then un-crosses them. Twists the ring counterclockwise now.
“I think the painter abandoned their originality to meet their growing audience’s expectations of them as an artist.” He finally says.
Steve scoffs. “How did you draw up a conclusion like that?”
The guy hums and abruptly changes the topic. “What did you say your name was?”
“Steve Harrington.”
“Right.” He gets up and gestures toward a ‘staff only’ door. “Up for a little field trip, Steve Harrington?”
This is dumb. Breaking laws is something Steve left behind in his angst-filled teen years.
But this guy is bad-boy hot and Steve is painfully bored, so he follows the stranger despite his better judgement.
They enter the door and are instantly greeted by a trail of empty paint buckets. There’s dirty tarps covering the floors and countless canvases laid out across the wide room.
Right away, Steve can tell this is what art is all about. The chaos. The urgency to create as soon inspiration strikes.
And these paintings look nothing like the one hanging in the gallery. These paintings are full narratives told through shapes and pigments.
These paintings could be an autobiography on the topic of someone who experiences life deeply. Passionately.
These are the untold masterpieces.
“Wow.” Is all Steve finally comes up with.
“To answer your question,” the stranger gestures grandly to the entirety of the room. “This is how I drew up that conclusion.”
“This was the originality. It’s stuck behind these four walls, but it’s where everything started. It’s where everything should have stayed.”
Steve carefully watches the man explore all the different works of art. Bending down to touch some. Smiling playfully at others. Steve is stupidly captivated by his ability to shine amongst literal art.
“What did you say your name was?”
The guy chuckles and walks back over to Steve. “I didn’t.”
“Right. Are you gonna tell me?”
“That depends.”
“Depends on what?”
“Depends on if you’ll still kiss me after I tell you.”
They’re standing close, Steve hadn’t realized it until now. Maybe it was him closing the distance. Maybe it was the stranger. Maybe it was gravity growing tired of their mediocre foreplay.
But they’re close now. So close that Steve can see the lightening bolt tattoo below the stranger’s left ear. A thought runs rampant in Steve’s slutty mind that he could see every single neck tattoo if he were to start unbuttoning this guy’s shirt.
He’s close enough to do it.
“I’ll still kiss you afterwards,” Steve agrees dreamily. Getting high off of paint fumes and close proximity.
The stranger lets his hand wander up the back of Steve’s neck, breaths getting caught in Steve’s throat at the contact.
“I’m that Eddie Munson guy.” He says in a low whisper. “The same one who held up a paintbrush and went, ‘fuck it, they’ll never know this is bullshit.’”
Every word he utters is cautious now. Like Steve might change his mind about kissing him.
Steve doesn’t change his mind.
He pulls hard at Eddie’s collar, lets their lips collide dizzily fast. Eddie’s mouth pushes against his to lead the kiss, Steve is more than happy to let him do so.
It’s a noisy kiss. Sounds escaping out of the corners of their mouths. Airy gasps and rustling clothes filling the open space.
Steve breaks the kiss to speak, inhaling as much oxygen as he can get. “I’m guessing you bring lots of guys back here and woo them with your secretly amazing art.”
Eddie had transitioned to kissing Steve’s neck while he was talking, but stops as soon as Steve says that.
“You’ve got it all wrong, sweetheart.” Eddie cradles Steve’s flushed cheeks with both hands. “I only bring pretty boys who refuse to see what everyone else sees back here.”
Steve moves Eddie’s hands and wraps them around his own neck. “Even if that would be easier.”
Eddie smiles. “Exactly.”
He goes back to sucking on Steve’s neck, like he was rudely interrupted before, and Steve starts to feel as chaotic as the art surrounding them. Eddie marks him with a fresh bruise, just below his right ear. Mirroring the exact spot where Eddie’s lightening tattoo is located.
Eddie licks over it. Swirling his tongue in sweltering circles, making Steve pant wow as he finishes the creation he was designing solely with his mouth.
He exhales a single laugh into their kiss.
“Why are you laughing?” Steve asks.
Eddie shakes his head.
“I really like doing things that make you say wow like that, Steve Harrington.”
Steve kisses Eddie’s cheek. “I really like that too.”
Eddie kisses him thoroughly slow once more, then nibbles over Steve’s ear as he whispers:
“Kinda curious to find out what else I can make you say.”
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pandadrake · 5 months
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HR Violation.
Miguel holding Spider-cat and letting the intrusive thoughts win.
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chubs-deuce · 2 years
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woe, human Mikey be upon ye!
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yashley · 1 year
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“Do I have purple titties?”
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joenateuser · 4 months
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Kit Connor | via British Vogue Shorts
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hypewinter · 1 year
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Ok so this is based on @cyrwrites prompt of Danny being Willis Todd. A very delicious angsty prompt btw. Especially @faeriekit additions. Chef's kiss. Anyway, that got my little gears turning and I thought up an alt version. What if Danny was Jason's grandpa?
Hear me out: Despite all the hardships of losing his family and identity, Danny still manages to get a wife and settle down. Then the GIW tracks him down again and while he's in the ghost zone taking care of a few things, they break into his house and kidnap his wife.
Danny goes ballistic and decimates all of their bases trying to find her but by the time he does, it's too late. She dies in his arms and there isn't enough ambient ectoplasm for her to become a ghost. This is the last straw for Danny and he retreats to the Infinite Realms, sealing all portals and summonings (perhaps he's starting down the path of becoming Dan).
Unbeknownst to Danny, his son got dumped off in an orphanage (he thought the baby died with his wife) and is named Willis. From here Willis can either be the way that he is because his core is not getting everything it needs and that's causing physical and mental side effects or he's just an asshole with secret ghostly powers. Either way, everything from there continues down the path of Jason's story.
Flashing forward, after taking an involuntary bath in ectoplasm, Jason's proto core gets activated. He was mainly human with no ambient ectoplasm around before so his core was inactive while his body did all the work. Now that it's active however, his body is slowly but surely giving his proto core all the functions it was meant to have. The problem with this is that his proto core is too weak and can't actually sustain these functions. For example, he'll randomly stop breathing but his core can't take over properly which leads to him suffocating instead until his lungs take back over. Fun times right?
Bruce is getting increasingly desperate so when Constantine mentions the ghost king might be able to help but they would have to go to him directly, he suits up and says lead the way.
For Danny's part, when he meets these three men, he is confused for two reasons. How did they even get here? And why is the youngest one putting out a feeling of family when he should have no one left?
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he’s THE guy ever
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strawberryteabunny · 26 days
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package arrived ૮ ෆ ´ ˕ ` ෆ ა ♡
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deankarolina · 4 months
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I will never stop putting Van in silly shirts
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youregonnabeokay-kid · 3 months
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SO. i was able to figure out the general structure of the script JLH leaked.
[explanation under the cut]
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in order for all this to make sense, the first thing you need to know is that in north america all screenplays (scripts) are written in the same format
knowing this, we can deduce the general structure of the scene and even the length of some of the words
first we need to address the big question everyone's been asking:
are they talking about Bobby or Eddie?
screenplays are always typed in courier font, and in courier the capital letters B and E are identical at their left sides.
so while i enjoy people trying to figure out if the blurry letter in line 24 is a B or an E, the answer is it could honestly be either
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where we really need to look is line one. the screengrab is blurry so i've outlined the word "going" and circled the area we should pay attention to
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at first, the last letter of the prior word looks like an undistinguishable blob, but there is actually one key thing we can discern from it: the letter can't be y, it doesn't hang low enough
there is a chance that the word is not a name and is "he" which would not rule out Bobby or Eddie. however, that would mean the conversation goes on for at least 14 lines without mentioning "him" by name which is (heavily) frowned against in screenwriting. so chances are they're talking about Eddie
also, with what we know about the characters it's most likely Eddie. can you really see Bobby not talking to Buck because of... well, anything? and we already know that Eddie has a difficult time communicating. so i've decided to go with him for this script but haven't 100 per cent ruled Bobby out
moving on to the actual script itself, anything not highlighted in red is something i'm confident is either the exact wording or something similar. the red sections are the parts that i'm less confident in or know are incorrect somehow
Maddie's first dialogue block is the part i had the most trouble with. with context from the following conversation i figured that she probably asked something along the lines of when [Eddie] will be back at work. the main issue with this section is that the top line is actually six letters shorter than what i have written. this also means that the word that follows "going" has to be at least eight letters long. i tried messing around with the dialogue a bit but couldn't come up with something that would fit the appropriate letter count so for now i just wrote a line similar to what i think the actual line probably is
line six has to be either 12 or 13 spaces long and the first word has to be at least four letters long so i used "really soon" as a place holder, but i'm not completely confident in it
for line eight i initially had "Oh, that's good." but the line was one space short so i changed the "Oh" to "Hey" instead. i don't feel too poorly about this one but it still doesn't feel right to me. if the actual script says "Hey" i wouldn't be surprised if JLH changes it to something else or forgoes the exclamation completely
the final line is just a rough guess of what it could be. i'm not sure how formal the 911 writers are with action lines so i just took a random guess. some writers are extremely formal with action lines while others are more comedic with it (Neil Gaiman is a great example of this). i'm guessing the 911 writers are more the former but i honestly have no clue
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omaano · 1 year
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“Dank farrik!” Din shouts. “There’s a karking rancor in there!”
Boba is grinning like a kid. “Yes! And I haven’t named him yet. He imprinted on me. I spend so much time down here, you have no idea.”
The Return of the Mandalorian to the Book of Boba Fett by TranquilizedDropBear
If you ever thought "I love Boba Fett, I'd love to see him in his own damn show sometime" in regards to Ep 5 of TBOBF can I maybe very enthusiastically recommend you the above linked fic? Because it's lived rent free in my brain for months now and I've thought about it so much that as far as I'm concerned Boba was the one to fill in Din on the background lore about the fall of Mandalore and whatnot. Because we can all use a pair of maybe-Mandalorians bonding sitting on top of a rancor in our lives, no?
Also I had been dying to make this drawing for months now for @bobadinweek's AU bingo for my Canon Divergence slot.
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