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fancyschmancyopinions · 11 months

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MARGOT ROBBIE at the premiere of “Babylon” on January 16th 2023 in Australia wearing VERSACE

While I'm not a huge fan of the pairing of red lace and baby blue satin, I think the dress is mostly a success. I think the blue is a really pretty color, and I liked the style and silhouette of the dress.

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bilbobagginsomebabez · 10 months

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there's like 16 essays sitting in babylon 5's telepath arcs and i’m like. I am twitching my fingers above a keyboard and not writing a word

#babylon 5 #fred.txt #meat filled gourd #babe bagged

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echoofawind · 2 months

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I think Mars Resistance Number 1, Tessa, may be the prettiest woman on Babylon V.

#she makes me sigh shes so pretty #it doesn't hurt that she could kick anyones ass if they tried to cross her #a boss and a babe #babylon v #babylon 5 #babylon five #b5

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very-feral-lesbian · 1 year

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it happens in march of 1997.

eddie and steve walking down the road in boston, eddie's arm carrying a small bag of groceries and steve carrying a large bag of cat food to bring home to sabbath and babylon. they were bundled up in coats, still not used to the harsh winters in boston.

their grocery store was only a few blocks from their house, good for times like these when they came home from work to their cats empty bowls and an equally empty pantry, not ideal for the get-together they were hosting tomorrow night.

boston had been kind to them, living merely blocks from robin and nancy, and the kids were able to come and visit frequently. they got away from the upside down and all of its accompanying instability.

it also had the benefit of being gay-friendly. they had formed a close-knit group of several other neighborhood queers alongside nance and robin. and while they personally weren't super big fans of pda, it did allow them to walk down the streets holding hands, as they were now.

so it was usual thursday, until it wasn't.

"no way, steve harrington in the flesh?"

tommy fucking hagan here, in boston. god hawkins just does not let up.

steve becomes increasingly aware of eddie hand in his. it feels like it weigh 100 pounds. eddie must pick up on this as steve feels eddie drop his hand, going to tuck into his jacket pocket.

tommy looks older, he aged just like his dad. he doesn't look bad, he just aged. it's like steve is in a time warp, his brain truly comprehending for the first time that it's been twelve years since he graduated high school and ditched behind king harrington. since he was the steve that tommy knew.

"wow tommy, i uh- never would have, i mean what are you doing in boston? last i heard you were down in dallas "

tommy smiled, "yeah im here on vacation for a couple days with my," there's a pause "... with my partner."

he and eddie glanced over at each other, picking up on that word but no, he couldn't be.

"what a small world. i mean we- i," pause, grabbing eddie's hand, part of him hoping tommy doesn't notice and the other part begging him to, "we live just down the street. had to pick up some food for the girls," gesturing down to the cat food in his left hand.

tommy smiled wide, "it's so cool how walkable boston is. it's been so nice for the last few days, not sure michael could handle this weather year 'round though."

michael? not michelle or michaela? michael.... michael.

he felt eddie's hand squeeze his, clearly aware of steve's train of thought at the moment.

after 11 years together, eddie practically has a window into steve's brain which is why he speaks up for the first time, "yeah we love boston, despite the cold. if you and michael aren't busy, we are having a few friends over tomorrow night if you two want to join? i'm sure i'd be nice for steve and you to catch up."

steve was thankful for his boyfriend in this moment, "yeah that would be great tommy, it'd be nice to meet michael."

tommy smiled, "yeah we'd love to."

eddie rattled off their address and the time, tommy bidding his goodbyes, leaving steve and eddie walking back the short distance to their apartment.

steve still hadn't said much, eyes looking forward.

"you okay, babe?"

steve looked over at eddie, "is every fucking person from hawkins gay?"

eddie laughed at him, "valid point. although to be fair, as much as i love him, hopper is just about the straightest man i've ever seen."

there is now a part two here

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sixhours · 2 months

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Chapter 1 - The Ghosts of Babylon

Series Chapter Index | Read on AO3 | Complete

Rating: Explicit, 18+, here be smut and violence Series tags: Joel Miller x You, Joel Miller x Reader, Joel & Ellie, mostly follows canon, LGBTQ+ characters, y/n is bi/pan, y/n is ~45, violence, pregnancy, abortion, medical trauma, emotional trauma, panic attacks, sex work, suicide, smut, slow burn, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, romance, no use of y/n, reader has longish hair, Joel can lift you, smallish age gap (~11 years), I've probably forgotten some so please let me know <3

~*~

Portland, Maine September 26, 2003

“Fuck.”

The air in the bathroom is thick with moisture, making it hard to breathe. You wipe at the condensation on the mirror and stare at the face reflected back at you, pale and drawn in the yellow light.

“Fuck, fuuuuck,” you mutter, holding the pregnancy test up and squinting, tilting it this way and that, hoping the extra line is just a trick of the light, but it doesn’t go away. You groan, internally vacillating between panic and rage.

Fuck.

There’s a knock at the door. Your girlfriend, Joanna, probably wondering what’s taking so long.

“Hey, you done? We just got called into the hospital again.”

“What?” You drop the stick onto the counter, but you can’t stop staring at it, the two clear blue lines taunting you. Outside your shared one-bedroom apartment a siren begins to wail. “I just got home.”

“That’s the job, babe,” Jo says. The doorknob creaks, breaking your reverie.

“Shit, just a sec,” you mutter, shoving your foot against the door and fumbling for some toilet paper to wrap the test in before tucking it at the bottom of the garbage can. You swallow the urge to vomit as Jo pokes her head in.

“You’ve been in here forever–”

“Jeez, privacy,” you snap, clutching the towel to your body more tightly, suddenly keenly aware of how flimsy it is, how exposed you are.

Jo’s eyes widen with hurt and you immediately soften, guilt stabbing at the gentlest swell in your abdomen. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…it’s just been a long-ass day.”

You soothe her with a quick kiss, hoping she can’t taste the hint of bile under the mint of your toothpaste and mouthwash.

“I’ll be right there,” you say, ducking around her, headed to your room in search of fresh scrubs.

“You want something to eat? I made sandwiches to go.”

Your stomach turns. “No, I ate at the caf after my last shift,” you lie. “Is this an all-hands thing?” you call over your shoulder as you dig in the hamper. Nothing is clean, there’s never enough time to do laundry.

Plenty of time to fuck an old buddy and get knocked up, though , you think, setting your lips in a grim line and smoothing the wrinkles out of some navy blue slacks.

“Yeah, Dan says they’re calling everyone in,” she confirms. “Something about a virus, flu season’s starting early, they’re expecting a full house. It’s bad.”

“Mmm,” you say, pulling on the freshest top you can find and tying back your hair in a ponytail. You meet Jo at the door where she hands you a brown paper sack, presumably your sandwich.

“You okay?” she asks as you walk the four blocks to the hospital, grateful for the crisp fall air. You hope it hides the flush in your cheeks, hopes she didn’t hear you retching before you stepped into the shower. She reaches for your hand and takes it, but your fingers are numb. “You’re quiet.”

“I’m fine,” you say automatically. “Just…tired.”

“Okay…hey, I had an idea for our anniversary next week.”

“Hmm?”

“There’s this new place on Congress Street, they do a great brunch with free mimosas? Since it’s on a Sunday I thought we could probably sneak in a date after your shift–”

“That’s fine,” you say automatically, squeezing her hand in weak reassurance; just the word brunch makes your stomach turn. “I mean, great, sounds great.”

She stops you outside the hospital’s employee entrance and holds fast to your hand to pull you back before you can go in.

“Babe. Are you sure you’re alright?”

You blink back tears, swallow hard, and it almost comes out. You open your mouth to speak, but the sound of a siren interrupts as an ambulance screams out of the nearby garage, lights flashing, and the moment is gone.

You pull her into a tight hug. She smells soft and warm and familiar, like oranges and vanilla. You press a tight kiss to the nape of her neck in an unusually public display of affection.

“Whoa,” she says softly, taking an unintentional step back as if to catch you.

“I’m okay,” you murmur into her neck. “We’ll be okay.”

~*~

The smell of antiseptic barely registers as you enter the building, so familiar to you now it’s like a second home. Joanna gives you a quick wave before being intercepted by her attending, who drags her off to the ICU to check on a patient.

By the time you drop your bag off at your locker, shoving the paper satchel with your sandwich at the back, you’ve almost put the pregnancy out of your mind. It comes naturally, this tight compartmentalization of your feelings, this easy decoupling from your emotional state.

The on-call attending physician looks no worse for the wear, and in the back of your mind, you wonder if someone higher up is overreacting to the news out of Indonesia. Your limited knowledge of virology knows the flu can’t jump that quickly. You’re over a hundred miles from the nearest major airport. It will be several days before what’s happening there crawls its way to this tiny state. It’s true, the waiting room is busy, but that’s not unusual for a Friday night.

You fight off a wave of nausea and take a clipboard from the wall.

~*~

Several hours later, at about the time a man named Joel Miller is holding his dead daughter in his arms somewhere in Texas, you are beginning to understand that this is not influenza.

Reports out of Boston and New York City are fragmented and, quite frankly, unbelievable. There’s a federal emergency warning on the screen of every television in the lobby and a growing sense of unease as nurses, doctors, and assistants dash between rooms, weaving between gurneys, calling out orders for beds, antibiotics, IVs. The thrum of the waiting room only grows louder and more insistent. The sirens are a constant, frenetic wail in the distance.

But all of that is a dim clamor in the background because your latest patient has a bite. A distinctly human-mouth-shaped arc of angry red impressions in the crook of their neck. The patient also has a sudden fever and a rash that is rapidly spreading up the side of their head.

Rashes don’t move like that, rashes don’t fucking undulate …

If you didn’t know better you’d think it was blood poisoning, but you’ve never seen sepsis like this. You watched the bite happen, watched a troubled man in the waiting room lurch from his chair and fly toward his victim, sinking his teeth into the flesh of her neck before being restrained by an orderly and the receptionist. That was maybe five minutes ago, and you’ve never seen an infection spread so fucking fast . By the time you’d helped the patient into a cot, they were already shivering, skin clammy and burning at the same time.

The patient is your partner, Joanna.

“What…the fuck,” she murmurs, chest heaving. Her neck twitches and jumps under your careful, probing touch. Her skin is already dewy with sweat, hot under your fingertips.

“Hold still,” you hiss, unsure if you’re talking to her or your trembling hands. You douse the bite in antiseptic, wiping away the blood with a clean square of gauze, leaning in to examine the rash again. It’s crept up from her collarbone to her ear, and it has to be your imagination, but you can almost see it…move. Joanna is shivering, whether from the fever or shock you don’t know, but you don’t have time to process before a shriek rings out from the hall.

“Need some help out here!”

Joanna grimaces, hissing softly through her teeth. “Go.”

“Jo–”

“Go. I’ll be fine,” she says, even as her eyes roll back in pain.

You give her one last desperate look, squeezing her hand, whispering, “I’ll be right back,” before ducking out of the room.

A woman is seizing on the floor, spasms jerking her limbs from side to side. A nurse looks up at you with wide eyes as he attempts to stabilize the patient’s head and neck. The seizing woman’s head turns sharply and her teeth make contact with his wrist, ripping a gash in the tender flesh.

“Shit!” he cries, jerking his hand away, blood running in rivulets down his arm.

“Go, I’ve got this,” you bark. He doesn’t wait, doesn’t ask if you’re sure, just backs away and runs down the hall.

A hot hand on your shoulder spins you around before you can figure out what to do with the writhing woman on the floor. It’s Joanna, her eyes cloudy. The heat radiates off her body in waves, the rash–

Not a rash.

–has spread up her neck, already red and raised welt-like lines are slithering–

Rashes don’t slither.

–around the sunken sockets of her eyes.

“Help…” she croaks. Her fingers pulse and twitch against your collarbone, gripping too tight, too close.

“Jo, it’s–” you start to soothe, intending to send her back to bed, but she’s staggering toward you in sharp jerks, her mouth glistening, and some deep, primal urge makes you recoil from your lover’s embrace. You stumble backward, heels catching on the woman on the floor, and you land on your tailbone behind her.

Joanna follows like a moth to your flame, pitching forward, crawling, oblivious to the woman on the floor who is also moving underneath her, rolling over in a jerky, twisting, impossible way. Both women lock onto you and you can almost feel their need, their–

Hunger.

From down the hall comes a rising chorus of shouts, a crash. Someone bursts through the doors from the waiting room, one shoulder soaked with blood. From between the swinging doors, you see glimpses of chaos, hear more screams.

No. No. Not Jo. Not–

Something inside you breaks; you scramble backward, barely stifling a moan. You feel a hand tighten around your ankle and you kick it away, the tile floor slippery against your sweaty palms. Another hand grasps, scrabbles, another kick; a bloody palm print gleams on the crisp white leather toe of your sneaker.

No! No! Get out!

By some miracle you find your feet, feel yourself turning, running down the hall, deeper into the hospital. A dim part of your brain reaches for a reprimand, but you can’t make yourself stop, driven by panic, passing lines of gurneys and bodies slumped on the floor. You’re acutely aware of the thick smell of blood, drowning out the familiar antiseptic wash. You push your way through crowded halls over a chorus of groans and screams.

Out get out get out out out–

You burst through an emergency exit at the back of the hospital gasping for air, pressing your back to the weathered brick. Your heart lurches in your chest, wishing for this to end, for you to wake up in your bed after a bad dream.

A pregnancy dream , you think, barking a manic laugh into the night, recalling that your biggest fear this morning had been a little nausea and a missing red dot on the calendar. You taste hot bile and feel yourself swaying, ready to empty the meager contents of your stomach next to the dumpster, but a blinding light freezes you in its glare.

“Stop right there!”

You blink, stunned. Then you see the gun.

A figure in Army fatigues is pointing a rifle at you. The trembling of the muzzle makes you understand he’s just as scared as you are. If you get sick now, you’re a dead woman.

You raise your shaking hands in surrender. “Don’t shoot, I’m a…I’m a doctor.”

He doesn’t lower the weapon. “Are you bit?”

“I’m not–I don’t know what–”

His voice rises, panic creeping in as he gestures with the rifle, jabbing it at you. “Are you bit?!? Are you sick?”

“No!” you say, trying not to let your voice shake. “No, I’m not sick.”

He swallows hard, appearing to take this in. You close your eyes in the endless seconds between breaths, waiting for the crack of the rifle.

You open your eyes at the sound of the gun being lowered to his side.

“Ma’am,” he says shakily. “I think you should come with me.”

#the last of us #the last of us hbo #fanfic #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you

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autisticshadowthehedgehog · 1 year

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i think it would be really funny if they made wave/rouge canon in like the most basic way possible. like during one of the fuckin side-games the babylon rogues show up and rouge is like “oh hey babe” “hi babe” and the others are just “???? YOU’RE DATING WAVE???” and she’s like “yeah” and they’re like “WHY DIDNT YOU TELL US” and she’s like “i never tell you anything. you all think my name is rouge” and doesnt elaborate

#rouge the bat #rave #wavouge #wave the swallow #mine

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arabidoll · 3 months

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The image the west painted about arabs and SWANA ppl centuries ago, how is it still used today, and why is that image harmful to SWANA group

First of all, what is Orientalism? based on the definition by Edward Said, orientalism is a "created body of theory and practice" which constructs images of the Orient or the East directed toward those in the West.

Representations of the East as exotic, feminine, weak and vulnerable reflect and define how the West views itself as rational, masculine and powerful. These can be seen in paintings as well as media.

The painting were obsessed w the idea of the Harem women, which affected all SWANA ppl, including Persian and Turkish women as well. Stereotypes and orientalist depictions of arabs and SWANA ppl are still used till this day.

Le Corsaire (1856), takes place in Turkey and focuses on a love story between a pirate and a beautiful slave girl. Scenes include a bazaar where women are sold to men as slaves, and the Pasha's Palace, which features his harem of wives.

Petipa's The Pharaoh's Daughter (1862), an Englishman imagines himself, in an opium-induced dream, as an Egyptian boy who wins the love of the Pharaoh's daughter, Aspicia. Her costume consisted of 'Egyptian' décor on a tutu.

Fatima (1897) and Fatima’s Dance (1907), which were the very first portrayals of Arab woman as a veiled belly dancer. These sexualized and objectified Arab women.

Sheherazade (1910), involves a shah's wife and her relations with a Golden Slave. It includes an orgy in an oriental harem. When the shah discovers the actions of his numerous wives and their lovers, he orders the deaths of those involved. Also based on One Thousand & One Nights.

The sheik (1921), takes place in Algeria, where Lady Diana disguise herself as a dancing girl to become one of the prospective brides, yet is unable to go through with the deception bc the sheik liked her. the sheik later abducts her, intending to make her fall in love with him.

The movie didnt even have the accurate Algerian traditional clothing and Algerians dancing clothes arent the “belly dancing inspired” clothes. The stereotype that a SWANA man would abduct a white women to make her fall inlove w him too…

Lalla Fatma N'Soumer, an Algerian anti-colonial leader during 1849–1857 of the French conquest of Algeria and subsequent Pacification of Algeria. She is an Algerian national hero. The pictures show the Algerian traditional wear, which isnt close to the ones in the movie.

Here is an Algerian woman wearing a Haik, again not dressed as the movie shows.

Mickey in Arabia (1932) by Disney, taking place in the Arabian Desert, where Mickey and Minnie are exploring the area I assume. Later, Minnie gets kidnapped by a Sultan. Again, portraying men from SWANA or arab men in this case as predatory and barbaric.

Abdullah the Great aka. Abdullah’s Harem (1955), about an Arab sheikh and a European model. He’s always with the Arab women he bought, along with belly dancers. He still tries to seduce Ronnie. He then attempts to drug her in order to sleep with her, but fails and gets dethroned.

So far all these movies continue to have the same narrative, continue to sexualize Arab and SWANA women, always portraying them as belly dancers and/or harem women. The Arab and SWANA men as barbaric and predatory. Themes that will continue to exist till this day.

Babes in Baghdad (1952) Arabian Nights princess goes on strike demanding equal rights for women, to the frustration of the caliph. Aided by the caliph's godson, she enables the caliph to see the error of his polygamous ways, and he eventually settles down with his wife.

The Queen of Babylon (1954), about a king's concubine that loves a Chaldean rebel in ninth-century B.C. Assyria. I Am Semiramis (1963), in ninth-century B.C. Assyrian Queen Semiramis loves an enslaved Dardanian king. mind u assyrians dont dress like egyptians

Fast forward to the 90s and early 2000s, the same stereotype surrounding SWANA ppl persisted Aladdin(1992), Aladdin meets Princess Jasmine, daughter of the sultan of Agrabah. They both have to deal with evil sorcerer Jafar from overthrowing Jasmine's kingdom.

Jasmine was sexualized (even tho shes a minor), she seduces Jaffar, and was put in a harem/belly dancer fit. the same portrayal of Arab women. The movie also features harem women. Jaffar w big nose, painting arab men as ugly, sinister and ruled by sexual desires, again.

Braceface (2002), the harem thing again. Totally spice (2002) with harem inspired fits Around the World in Eighty Days (2004) by Disney, Arab sheikh his wives that were objectified through the scenes.

After 9/11, “Arabs are terrorists” and xenophobic remakes towards arabs increased. Air Marshal (2003), The stone merchant (2006), The kingdom (2007), and many more all portrayed arabs as terrorists. Family guy(?) and shameless (2012, S2) with jokes about k!lling iraqis

Bratz: Desert Jewelz (2012) and Aladdin (2019) had the same orientalist themes as the 1001 Arabian nights (1959) and as well as the older movies.

Today, inaccurate and offensive Arab/SWANA representation is still the same. Arabs are either rich sheikhs, terrorists, or exotic belly dancers. not only that, u rarely see any arab or SWANA actor/actress get good roles, its always reduced to the terrorists role.

Whats mentioned in the thread isnt only harmful to how SWANA ppl are viewed, but how they’re treated as well. In 2002 to 2005, Philippe Servaty engaged in sex with over 80 Moroccan women, promising to take them to Belgium.

He asked them for sexual photos and photographed them in poses that could be seen as degrading. They included ejaculating on the face of a veiled woman and having another woman kneel, bound, and gagged while he urinated on her. After returning to Belgium, he published the photos.

with assyrians and persians ppl still use the same harem belly dancer clothing and its not even accurate. egyptians are always portrayed as belly dancers, also inaccurate.

SWANA ppl are still treated as fictional characters. Dune (2021) uses orientalist themes and is inspired by SWANA cultures. many offensive media made ab arabs, but wont i b able to fit all here. racism/xenophobia against ppl in SWANA didnt start with 9/11 and its not over either.

twt original thread here!

#orientalism #threads #swana

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fairysluna · 4 months

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List your top 10 albums and your fav song from each:

thank you for the tag babe! @aemondsbabe . after evermore there's no particular order and i usually listen to the same 4 artists all the time, so...

Evermore by Taylor Swift — cowboy like me / tis the damn season.

Harry Styles (album) — meet me in the hallway.

Ultraviolence by Lana del Rey — shades of cool.

Sour by Olivia Rodrigo — favorite crime.

Youngblood by 5 Seconds of Summer — babylon.

Midnights by Taylor Swift — labyrinth.

Norman Fucking Rockwell! by Lana del Rey — california.

Cry Baby by Melanie Martinez — training wheels.

1989 by Taylor Swift — you are in love.

Fine Line by Harry Styles — she.

NO PRESSURE TAG — @bucknastysbabe @aemonds-holy-milk @aemonddtargaryen @aemondtarqaryens @marthawrites @autumnhymns

#tag games #moots🤍

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oldsargasso · 2 months

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: พิษเบ๊บ | Pit Babe (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dean/Winner (Pit Babe) Characters: Dean (Pit Babe), Winner (Pit Babe) Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Knotting, Barebacking, Biting, Consent Issues Series: Part 2 of bad habits Summary:

Winner's rut brings him to Dean's door. (Dean was not aware Winner knew where he lived.)

(explanation for consent issues tag in author's note if needed)

#pit babe #winnerdean #my fic

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fancyschmancyopinions · 1 year

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MARGOT ROBBIE at the WSJ Innovator Awards on November 2nd 2022 wearing PROENZA SCHOULER

Margot Robbie’s contract with Chanel recently ended, so she’s been making a lot of new and exciting fashion choices. One of her first events free of Chanel was the WSJ Innovator Awards where she stunned in this Proenza Schouler suit.

Margot just looks fabulous. I love the hair and simple makeup. I think it was the perfect compliment to this suit. I really loved how feminine and girly the entire look was, but it still managed to feel very elegant.

I really loved this suit. I think the flared bottoms look absolutely fantastic and is such a gorgeous look. I loved the mix of white and black, along with gold details. It’s a great kickoff look to what I’m sure will be a style evolution for Margot.

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leupagus · 1 year

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Director's Commentary

I saw this post about how fanfic should have more behind-the-scenes info, and it reminded me that there used to be a mildly popular thing of director's commentaries for fanfics — authors would literally edit an existing story with their thought processes behind certain scenes or characterizations, etc.

And since I'm in a bit of a writing drought at the moment, I thought it might be fun to do one of these, but I have no idea what story folks would be most interested in hearing all the various and sundry shenanigans around writing. So here are some of my most popular/beloved AO3 fics, with the 10th option being something you tell me in replies or something that's not on this list! You can find all the fics here, so hit me up babes.

#I've never had a drought this long which is admittedly concerning but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯#ficcage of interest

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shesnake · 6 months

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king i would do anything for a full stream of consciouness thought on babylon i watched it yesterday when i was procrastinating midsems and the first thing i saw after getting back was ur post and im losing my mind a bit i want to hear all ur thoughts n chew on them a bit

hey babe this is kind of a vague prompt so I'm not sure how much I can do for you but I willlll say from my rewatch today I'm in even more awe with the script and the way it manages to comment on the persisting and/or currently existing issues with today's film industry, particularly in relation to production and post-production, by using the encroachment of the hays code/introduction of "new tech" to parallel the worsening conditions of filmmaking, and on minority filmmakers, in the present day!! also tobey maguire's pit of horrors the only truly unique and unsanitised form of entertainment left and the way that literal hell-hole can represent so many things! like you could look at it as the desire for/rise of exploitation cinema and/or anti-conservative genres like horror in general or about the lack of protection you have when you step out of the box and how that is deliberate because the "safe" system is what created this non-space for outcasts in the first place. this guy will do anything for money including eating a live rat, do you think he'll say no if he's paid to eat you? "we were going to make movies together" but the money is fake

#replies #cin #babylon #film

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jetsetmeido · 6 months

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spent the entire day on fgo and sped through babylon past the part 1 finale and got my babes to 100, i shouldnt grind like this again oughhhh