@words-writ-in-starlightMugshot Monday
Created by AndrewKwan
(Source: league-of-extraordinarycomics, via littlestartopaz)
@words-writ-in-starlightMugshot Monday
Created by AndrewKwan
(Source: league-of-extraordinarycomics, via littlestartopaz)
I write. I swear to God. I actually love writing fanfic. BUT, and here’s the catch, I have a ton of trouble coming up with short fic ideas. Short anything ideas, really. The most memorable example is that one time I decided to write how I thought someone being able to see the future would pan out, just a few pages of character study, dicking around with super powers, nothing fancy. Smash cut to a year and a half later, I’m wrapping up my 350 page novel and staring dismally at my 200 additional pages of worldbuilding. And it’s always like that, it gets so out of hand.
SO. My solution to that is this. If you have a craving for a specific pairing that you know I ship, shoot me a prompt and I’ll throw together a short fic for you and post it. I’m trying to unwind after finals, so it’ll be good for me, and you’ll get fic, so it’ll be good for you.
Hit me up.
I wonder how many times in the MCU the contestants on Project Runway had to design or redesign a superhero uniform.
#yes though#JAN#because she should be in MCU#as the guest judge? YES EXACTLY#so agreed#Marvel
Oh my god I have never wanted to write a Marvel/Project Runway fusion before but can you imagine
Right though? RIGHT? She’d be so perfect, and it would be AMAZING.
I feel like she’d be super charming and sweet and nice–but also super critical and not shy about it, either.
“Darling, I know you’ve seen Batman and Robin, like, a thousand times, but the nipples really aren’t a selling point.”
“Okay, so the red and gold metal bikini is very sexy, but I think you missed the entire point of armor.”
“I like how it flows, but it’s far too flimsy. Forget Doombots - a stray corner is going to snag this cape and your whole costume just tears apart. Wardrobe malfunctions are embarrassing when you’re a celebrity, they’re fatal when you’re a superhero.”
“Yes, yes, the catsuit is very classic but it needs a zipper. I don’t care how hot you think she is, if you tell Black Widow she has to fight ninjas wearing a costume held together with double-sided tape she’ll break all ten of your fingers.”
“It’s certainly unique, but I’m not sure that glowing in the dark is a real selling point when you’re fighting crime.”
“Okay, this is just a Daredevil suit with the crotch cut out.” *takes a picture with her cell phone* “Nelson and Murdock will be contacting you shortly, I suspect.”
O-omg. PERFECT.
She totally pushes for style AND practicality in the judging. Yesss.
Janet Van Dyne and Edna Mode. Just sayin’.
(via keeperofthehens)
I don’t know what I’m doing with my life.Click on the panels for translations.
for my peeps on mobile:
Nat: You want to see something funny, look at tony and laugh
Nat: Keep doing it, it makes him mad
Bucky: Not as mad as he would be when I finds out I had sex with Steve in his lab last night
(via starwarsisgay)
Anonymous asked: For the shipping meme: Les Mis Bonus Round: MCU
Just one second, buddy. *buries face in pillow and screams* SOMEONE DID THE THING NO ONE DOES THE THING. *emerges from pillow, straightens clothes* I’m good, I’m fine, let’s do this.
LES MIS (actually I have next to nothing on my Tumblr for this musical and I should have things because I have approximately all of the feelings)
MCU (Marvel is never the bonus round, Marvel is the assumed-to-exist round)
You hear all these “you’re not a real fan unless” and it lists a hundred things, but I met a dude today who saw my Deadpool pin and asked what my favorite story arc was, and I explained that while I loved Deadpool, I was new to Marvel (I only really got into it a year and a half ago) and hadn’t been able to find a lot of the comics. Instead of making a face or a derogatory comment, he just offered to send me all the stuff he had. That is a true fan.
I told the guy at the comic shop when I went in for Black Widow that I’d seen a few Harley Quinn panels on Tumblr and thought it looked badass but didn’t know where to start because my entire involvement in DC fandom was watching the Batman cartoon as a kid. This guy sitting at one of the tables playing Yu-Gi-Oh, wearing a comic shirt and carrying a definitely-hardcore-fan amount of swag, spins around and goes “dude! You’ve never read DC? Check out the back issues wall. They’ve got all kinds of Harley Quinn.” He then proceeded to explain how “New 52″ was a spinoff, and had some split opinions in the fandom, but either continuity is good as long as you pick one and stay with it so you don’t get mixed on what’s going on.
True fans love to see other people loving the stuff they love.
YES THIS. I’m one of those terrible people who’s like “Why yes I do own a Marvel Encyclopedia that I read front to back when I’m sad” and the X-Men are, like, my first love, and I have a mental laundry list of all the ways I can share LITERALLY ANYTHING ABOUT THE X-MEN with my friends. You like the animated series? Yeah bro, I’m here for that. Movies? Honey, sweetie, darling, tell me all your opinions ever, my body is ready. You watched X-Men: Evolution as a kid? Dude, I still watch it when I’m sick or upset. Comics? Yeah baby, talk nerdy to me about time-travel plot lines and clones. I heard someone tell a girl a couple years younger than me that she wasn’t a ‘real fan’ of something (the Avengers, I think?) because she’d only seen the movies and I was like “*hisses* THAT IS MINE NOW I WILL TAKE OVER.”
Nice girl, actually. Real sweetheart.
(via dyinghistoric)
the most implausible thing about superhero movies is that these guys make their own suits, like seriously those toxic chemicals did NOT give you the ability to sew stretch knits, do you even own a serger
I feel like there’s this little secret place in the middle of some seedy New York business neighborhood, back room, doesn’t even have a sign on the door, but within three days of using their powers in public or starting a pattern of vigilanteism, every budding superhero or supervillain gets discreetly handed a scrap of paper with that address written on it.
Inside there’s this little tea table with three chairs, woodstove, minifridge, work table, sewing machines, bolts and bolts of stretch fabrics and maybe some kevlar, and two middle-aged women with matching wedding rings and sketchbooks.
And they invite you to sit down, and give you tea and cookies, and start making sketches of what you want your costume to look like, and you get measured, and told to come back in a week, and there’s your costume, waiting for you.
The first one is free. They tell you the price of subsequent ones, and it’s based on what you can afford. You have no idea how they found out about your financial situation. You try it on, and it fits perfectly, and you have no idea how they managed that without measuring you a whole lot more thoroughly than they did.
They ask you to pose for a picture with them. For their album, they say. The camera is old, big, the sort film camera artists hunt down at antique stores and pay thousands for, and they come pose on either side of you and one of them clicks the camera remotely by way of one of those squeeze-things on a cable that you’ve seen depicted from olden times. That one (the tall one, you think, though she isn’t really, thin and reminiscent of a Greek marble statue) pulls the glass plate from the camera and scurries off to the basement, while the other one (shorter, round, all smiles, her shiny black hair pulled up into a bun) brings out a photo album to show you their work.
Inside it is … everyone. Superheroes. Supervillains. Household names and people you don’t recognize. She flips through pages at random, telling you little bits about the guy in the purple spangly costume, the lady in red and black, the mysterious cloaked figure whose mask reveals one eye. As she pages back, the costumes start looking really convincingly retro, and her descriptions start having references to the Space Race, the Depression, the Great War.
The other lady comes up, holding your picture. You’re sort of surprised to find it’s in color, and then you realize all the others were, too, even the earliest ones. There you are, and you look like a superhero. You look down at yourself, and feel like a superhero. You stand up straighter, and the costume suddenly fits a tiny bit better, and they both smile proudly.
*
The next time you come in, it’s because the person who’s probably going to be your nemesis has shredded your costume. You bring the agreed-upon price, and you bake cupcakes to share with them. There’s a third woman there, and you don’t recognize her, but the way she moves is familiar somehow, and the air seems to sparkle around her, on the edge of frost or the edge of flame. She’s carrying a wrapped brown paper package in her arms, and she smiles at you and moves to depart. You offer her a cupcake for the road.
The two seamstresses go into transports of delight over the cupcakes. You drink tea, and eat cookies and a piece of a pie someone brought around yesterday. They examine your costume and suggest a layer of kevlar around the shoulders and torso, since you’re facing off with someone who uses claws.
They ask you how the costume has worked, contemplate small design changes, make sketches. They tell you a story about their second wedding that has you falling off the chair in tears, laughing so hard your stomach hurts. They were married in 1906, they say, twice. They took turns being the man. They joke about how two one-ring ceremonies make one two-ring ceremony, and figure that they each had one wedding because it only counted when they were the bride.
They point you at three pictures on the wall. A short round man with an impressive beard grins next to a taller, white-gowned goddess; a thin man in top hat and tails looks adoringly down at a round and beaming bride; two women, in their wedding dresses, clasp each other close and smile dazzlingly at the camera. The other two pictures show the sanctuaries of different churches; this one was clearly taken in this room.
There’s a card next to what’s left of the pie. Elaborate silver curlicues on white, and it originally said “Happy 10th Anniversary,” only someone has taken a Sharpie and shoehorned in an extra 1, so it says “Happy 110th.” The tall one follows your gaze, tells you, morning wedding and evening wedding, same day. She picks up the card and sets it upright; you can see the name signed inside: Magneto.
You notice that scattered on their paperwork desk are many more envelopes and cards, and are glad you decided to bring the cupcakes.
*
When you pick up your costume the next time, it’s wrapped up in paper and string. You don’t need to try it on; there’s no way it won’t be perfect. You drink tea, eat candies like your grandmother used to make when you were small, talk about your nights out superheroing and your nemesis and your calculus homework and how today’s economy compares with the later years of the Depression.
When you leave, you meet a man in the alleyway. He’s big, and he radiates danger, but his eyes shift from you to the package in your arms, and he nods slightly and moves past you. You’re not the slightest bit surprised when he goes into the same door you came out of.
*
The next time you visit, there’s nothing wrong with your costume but you think it might be wise to have a spare. And also, you want to thank them for the kevlar. You bring artisan sodas, the kind you buy in glass bottles, and they give you stir fry, cooked on the wood-burning stove in a wok that looks a century old.
There’s no way they could possibly know that your day job cut your hours, but they give you a discount that suits you perfectly. Halfway through dinner, a cinderblock of a man comes in the door, and the shorter lady brings up an antique-looking bottle of liquor to pour into his tea. You catch a whiff and it makes your eyes water. The tall one sees your face, and grins, and says, Prohibition.
You’re not sure whether the liquor is that old, or whether they’ve got a still down in the basement with their photography darkroom. Either seems completely plausible. The four of you have a rousing conversation about the merits of various beverages over dinner, and then you leave him to do business with the seamstresses.
*
It’s almost a year later, and you’re on your fifth costume, when you see the gangly teenager chase off a trio of would-be purse-snatchers with a grace of movement that can only be called superhuman.
You take pen and paper from one of your multitude of convenient hidden pockets, and scribble down an address. With your own power and the advantage of practice, it’s easy to catch up with her, and the work of an instant to slip the paper into her hand.
*
A week or so later, you’re drinking tea and comparing Supreme Court Justices past and present when she comes into the shop, and her brow furrows a bit, like she remembers you but can’t figure out from where. The ladies welcome her, and you push the tray of cookies towards her and head out the door.
In the alleyway you meet that same giant menacing man you’ve seen once before. He’s got a bouquet of flowers in one hand, the banner saying Happy Anniversary, and a brown paper bag in the other.
You nod to him, and he offers you a cupcake.
Have you read The Tailor? It’s a Batman fan comic by TerminAitor on Deviantart and it’s a fantastic little piece about the tailor who makes some of the costumes for the criminals of Gotham… whether he wants to do it or not. Great stuff.
The costuming thing in general seems like it would make for a great one-off or miniseries. Or a book of shorts including stuff like kyraneko’s seamstresses. Someone has to be making this stuff… and not breathing a word of it to anyone.
There actually was a comic in one of the Spiderman titles about the 90-years-older-than-dirt Jewish tailor who makes all the superhero and villain costumes, telling them how to update their look as he does so. So, yeah, it’s canon.
It’s also canon that every superhero and villain except for Spider-man (who yes, did painstakingly teach himself how to sew and mend spandex) knew about him. He sees villains and heroes on alternating days, and no one dares to break that truce or show up on the wrong day looking for a fight because they’re all afraid of losing his services.
(via allgreymatters)
based on this post
some superheroes just don’t handle airport securities well
(Source: shorelinewaves, via starwarsisgay)
marvel ladies meme: 2/4 Traits
↳ Kindness#marveledit #mcuedit #marvelladiesedit #peggy carter #darcy lewis #pepper potts #felicia hardy #angie martinelli #natasha romanoff #jane foster #gwen stacy #sif #marvel ladies meme #marvel #gif #quotes #my stuff #i had to do this cause they’re seriously so kind and compassionate and the men only have to do one half decent thing to be ‘Nice Guys’ ™ #but when the women show the same trait they’re generic flat boring or god forbid marysues or it just goes completely overlooked #i mean peggy’s ‘you are better than you think you are’ line to steve i love it #god maria seeing to it that nat sees fury’s alive was the most heartwarming thing to me when i first watched the film #darcy taking the time to rescue an animal when everyone’s running away so precious #pepper reassuring maya and even saying that stark industries used to pull similar shit she’s very much aware of it #and is glad that they’ve turned things around but doesn’t forget or consider herself above others who haven’t yet just encourages them to #felicia’s when she decides to help harry so he can find a cure for his disease like i’ve seen her classified as ‘dark chick’ and?? #i feel that sometimes angie’s niceness gets overlooked for her massive sass but she’s such an attentive friend seriously #NAT’S FUCKING BLEEDING OUT IN THAT SCENE AND SHE’S STILL TRYING TO COMFORT HER FRIEND #gwen’s speech encouraging her classmates to never give into the despair she knows will come because she’s felt it herself #and lastly sif presenting her condolences to frigga like for all we were shown she might have been the only one to do it
(via fuckyeahdarcylewis)