zwickygirl
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Latest Posts by zwickygirl
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You are a villain famous for “killing” heroes. In reality, heroes come to you to fake their deaths.
I refuse to seek out Ryan Reynolds' Tumblr account. If it has any value it will find it's way into my dash naturally. This is how the Tumblr ecosystem is meant to work.
I didn't know that GothTwink/English-Lit Professor was a trope I needed but apparently it is and I would like to personally thank Neil Gaiman for giving me two.
At long last I’m excited to share my comic ‘Tinder’! I had so much fun on this project and it got me really excited to write more stories! I sincerely hope you enjoyed the comic and have a great day! <3
If you want to help support the comic you can help by: ~ !! Reblogging this post !! ( a big please and thank you! <3) ~ Give the comic an ‘ol follow over on Tapas
Or if you have some extra cash you’re welcome to: ~ Buy a digital copy of the comic ~ Buy a physical copy of the comic ~ Support me on Kofi
Kili was actually the first one to find the kitten. Bilbo would later take the kitten (which he named “Buttons”, which Kili thought was ridiculous) to show to other wounded dwarves to cheer them up, and Buttons became a healing cat. But at the end of the day it would always return to Kili.
more appreciation is needed for the absolute masterpiece that is the music in lotr— howard shore’s talent is truly unparalleled and continues to stand the test of time. never in my life have i been more in love with and inspired by one musical work; this is IT!
I’m incredibly happy to announce that FANGS will be a book collection and and it is now up for preorder.
The book features:
All FANGS comics found online
25 NEW comics!
Black tinted pages
Cloth “engraved” cover.
Preorder HERE.
I HAVE WAITED ALL YEAR TO POST THIS
i want to break free (1/1, 2237 words) Pairing: Aziraphale/Crowley Rating: General Tags: Human AU, Walk of Shame, First Meetings, Fluff Summary: In which Aziraphale does the walk of shame and meets someone special along the way. — If you enjoyed this, please reblog so others can as well! Thanks!
Sometimes a family is a lady detective, her lady’s maid, a child thief, a lesbian doctor, a butler, two communist ex dockers turned taxi drivers, a fussy old aunt, a Protestant constable and a long suffering inspector.
i’ve been obsessed with a series called The Murderbot Diaries, about a neurotic android that just wants to watch soap operas in between saving humans 😂 here’s some stuff from the first novella All Systems Red!!
Recently finished Ursula Le Guin’s The Left Hand of Darkness. I don’t remember the last time I read a book as quickly as I did this one.
we all deserve respect and dignity!!
to learn more, or to donate time/money to the cause, please visit freedommassachusetts.org
do you ever read a piece of fanfic that is just so fucking spectacular that makes you actually feel things?
boy, i swear to god, i’m so goddamn grateful for every single one of you writers, yall literally giving us entertainment for free almost every goddamn week; and this is not only for those gracious magnificent bastards that are practically gods because they’ve perfected (and keep developing) their craft, this is also to that little (and equally amazing) writer that is just starting and might not be the best at it, you my friend keep writing because practice makes perfect, don’t stop writing if that’s what makes you happy. i just want all of yall to know that i appreciate you so goddamn much and yall the fucking best
to every fanfic writer out there: i love you, u crazy motherfucker
boston gothic
- there is no grid system in boston. every street is a circle. you miss your turn and try to double back, but the asphalt is giving way to cobblestone. you can hear muskets just ahead.
- boston common always closes at 9pm. it locks from the inside.
- you walk out of mike’s pastry in the north end and the streets are deserted. there’s a rumbling beneath your feet. it smells like molasses.
- every time you crane your head to peek down the dark subway tunnel for the train, you can see two bright pinpricks of light in the distance. they’ve been there for 30 years, watching. you look away and try not to breathe.
- they’re always trying to fill the pot holes and the cracks in the sidewalks. it’s from the ice, they say. come morning, the holes always return. bigger. deeper.
- the next train will arrive in 5 minutes. days have passed; winter is setting in. the next train will arrive in 5 minutes.
- you arrive at logan airport and it’s empty. the intercom crackles, “this is the final boarding call.” no flight is specified. it’s time to go.
- the red line train pulls up, empty. you get on and it comes to a sudden halt in the tunnel. the lights go off. you hear the muffled sounds of ‘sweet caroline’ in the distance. it’s getting closer.
- the citgo sign looms above the brownstones. no matter how far you walk, it is always there.
- you hear rustling. it’s just the turkeys, you say. you hear screams echo in harvard square. it’s just the turkeys.
sleeping with you (1/1, 3618 words) Relationship: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield Rating: General Tags: Canon Divergence, Sleeping, Fluff and Angst, Falling in Love Summary: In which a coat is shared and love is found. — If you enjoyed this at all, please consider reblogging so others can too!
we found love (1/1, 19811 words) Relationship: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield Rating: Teen Tags: Modern AU, Mafia AU of sorts, Romance, Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending Summary: In which Bilbo meets Thorin and life takes unexpected turns. —- Hey, if y’all enjoy this fic at all, please reblog this so more people can too!
Title: Collard: Chapter 12: Eyes Wide Open Rating: PG Genre: AU, master/slave (though we’ve kinda left that behind at this point) Pairing: Roy/Ed Warnings: blood, injuries
“We’re still getting reports from Yousewell that are … somewhat suspect,” Grumman said as he moved his bishop to block the path of Roy’s rook. “But Central doesn’t seem concerned. I don’t think they’ve even read the last two memos I sent.”
Roy took his time considering the board. “The last unit they sent out that way never made it.”
“Yes, and we know how that worked out.”
Ao3
Massachusetts Driving Gothic
You don’t know what street you’re on. Every intersection, there’s a street sign, but it only tells you the name of the other street. Perhaps your street has no name. Perhaps it doesn’t exist.
The road has two lanes. You thought it had three, but suddenly there are two. Now three again. Now one.
Construction workers close down a street. They work for years. No one says what they’re doing, but machinery moves back and forth and great clouds of smoke go up into the sky. When they finally leave, the street looks as if they were never there.
Roads were named, back in the old times, by the city they went to. A road that went to Boston was Boston Road. But many roads lead to Boston. So there are many Boston Roads. They do not connect to each other. They are all Boston Road.
You have forgotten what a parking space looks like. You have forgotten what it means to park. You simply drive forever, in circles. It feels natural enough.
Blue lights flash in front of you, the street swarms with police; an accident? A crime? Some kind of disaster? But at the heart of the blue-clad swarm there is nothing but a single man in a yellow vest, digging a small hole by the side of the road.
You have to be in the left lane to turn right, the sign says. You have to be in the right lane to turn left. The sign that explains this is hung directly over the intersection.
The pedestrians lurch out in front of your car, heedless of the danger, of their own soft bodies and the hardness of steel. They may think your car would simply pass through them. They may be right.
You are on I-93, at rush hour, going one mile an hour. You have always been, and will always be, on I-93, at rush hour, going one mile an hour. In the neighboring cars, babies are born, old people are dying, small tribes are forming.
You are on Storrow Drive. Somehow, you do not die.
When the sorcerer found the dragon, it was attacking a grape.
This was only possible because the dragon was not much larger than a grape itself, but she still had to do a double take to be sure the object it was fighting with such animosity was in fact inanimate.
She crouched so that her eyes were level with the top of the table and squinted at it. The dragon sank its tiny fangs into the grape’s skin and gave a great tug, succeeding only in throwing it and the grape into a backwards tumble. The tiny green reptile rolled to a stop with its whole body wrapped around the grape and shook its head ferociously, managing to pull its teeth out but also launching the grape across the table. It gave a mighty roar of anger (about as loud as a human clearing their throat) and stalked after it, tail swishing dangerously.
“Do you need help?” she offered.
The dragon froze mid-prowl and whipped its head around to look at her, looking so offended she almost apologized for asking.
“I mean, I could peel it for you, if that’s the problem.” She wasn’t sure it was getting the message. One could never tell how much human language these little creatures picked up by hanging around the magic labs. Some understood only such essentials as “scat!” or “oh fuck, that sure did just explode”, while others could hold entire conversations — if they deigned to interact.
This one looked like it was deciding whether she was worthy. Finally, it sniffed daintily and flicked its tail, scales clacking together. “Little monster is my prey, and you can’t have it. Found it first. Will devour it!”
“Oh, sure,” she agreed. “But you know it’s a grape, right?”
This was the wrong thing to say. It glared at her and then bounded away to the other end of the table, where it slithered up to the grape and pounced on it.
Grape and dragon promptly rolled off the edge of the table.
The sorcerer quickly went around to that side, alarmed that it would be stepped on. The labs were bustling with shoppers stopping by to watch demonstrations this time of day, and a small dragon wouldn’t be easily visible on the blue and green tiled floor.
“Horrible! Dirty!” The tiny dragon was screeching at the top of its lungs, holding onto its prey for dear life. It would have been hard to hear anyway, with all the noise of the labs, but with the sorcerer’s diminished hearing it took several seconds to locate the screaming creature.
She scanned the pattern of the tiles for it and sighed. “Oh, hold on, we mopped this morning.” She cupped her hands around it and deposited it into her skirt pocket, an indignity the dragon endured only with more screaming.
“An outrage! Put me down!”
“Shh,” she advised. Lab workers were strongly discouraged from bringing creatures into the back rooms, which was where she was heading, picking her way through the crowded front lab.
“Fuck pockets!” her pocket responded.
“Oh, you can curse. Wonderful.”
The dragon seemed to take this as an actual compliment. “Am multitalented. Can also compose poetry.”
“Really? Can I hear some?”
“No. For dragon ears only.” It sounded viciously pleased to hold this over her head. The bulge in her pocket rearranged itself, and she thought it might be trying to gnaw on the grape.
She felt herself smiling even as she tried to squash her mouth into a straight line. She liked this little bad-tempered thing, even though its spiky feet were digging into her thigh.
In the much quieter kitchen of the back rooms behind the lab, she transferred the wriggling, scaly handful from her pocket to the table. The dragon hissed out a few more insults as it got up and straightened itself out, but its jaw fell open when it finally took in its surroundings. She’d set it down next to the fruit bowl.
“There you go. Food mountain.”
The dragon’s shock didn’t last long. Abandoning the grape, it scraped and scrabbled its way up the side of the bowl and from there onto an apple, its claws leaving tiny puncture marks as it hiked to the top of the arrangement. “Food mountain!” It repeated, its gleeful crowing much clearer and almost sing-song without having to compete with the noise of the crowd.
She watched it turn in a circle, surveying the feast. “But… cannot eat it all,” it observed after a while, crestfallen. “Human-sized. Big shame.”
“Don’t you have nest-mates who can help you with it?” she asked. She had assumed not, from the way it had apparently been foraging for food on its own, but she needed to be sure she’d found a loner.
“No nest. No mates. No nest-mates. You’re rude.” It flopped down ungracefully, wings spread out flat on the apple like it was trying to hug the entire much-larger fruit.
She gave it a moment to be dramatic, and then offered it the grape, minus the peel. “You seem to have a good grasp on human-speak.”
It grabbed the grape without so much as a thank you. “Yes. Have composed poetry in both Dragonese and Humanese. Not for humans to hear, though.” Bragging cheered it up a little.
“You mentioned. I can’t hear very well, anyway.” She pulled up a stool and sat down. “Actually, I’ve been looking for a helper.”
“An assistant,” it said, apparently showing off its Humanese. “An attendant. An aid.”
She watched it bury its snout in the grape, juice dribbling down onto the apple it sat on. “Yes. A hearing aid. How would you feel about having a job?”
It smiled craftily. “Would feel positively, if job comes with chocolate chips.”
“It could,” she said, grinning. She had some friends who employed bird-sized dragons as messengers, but this was the first time she’d heard of one negotiating its salary for itself. “It certainly could. What’s your name?”
“Peep,” said Peep. “It is self-explanatory.”
“Don’t worry, I got it.”
Peep expressed its doubt that humans ever got anything, but she thought the tiny, prickly creature might be warming up to her.
Anyway I miss Peggy Carter violently beating the absolute everloving fuck out of dudes with any object within her reach while upbeat jazz music is playing in the background
Reblog if you ARE a woman in STEM, SUPPORT women in STEM, or ARE STILL BITTER about Rosalind Franklin not getting credit for discovering the structure of DNA and the Nobel prize going to Watson and Crick instead.
Okay nerds, y’know what? Money where my mouth is time, literally. I have just purchased two Patty Tolan Funco POP figures and & I will give one away to someone who likes or RTs this post, and the other who likes or RTs the link I will post on Twitter. I will pay for shipping in the US or Canada! #loveforLeslieJ
As a sidenote, haters and racists are ALSO giving the fucking TOYS negative reviews for ugly, racist reasons, so dropping by Amazon to give the Patty Tolan action figures and POPs some love would be awesome.
Giveaway ends Friday, July 22nd at 6PM CST!