After The Bad Days

There has been a recent (significant) spike in my area of anti-trans activity, and I’m not sure if that is specific to my area or if it is a trend in the world at large, but either way, that is unacceptable and I want to reiterate that bigotry of any kind is not acceptable, tolerated, or welcome on this page.

real homies respect trans people!

My thoughts on Supernatural if it were on different networks/platforms.

ABC: No gore. No brutal murders on screen. So much melodrama. A lot more characters. Many love triangles. Maybe Destiel, but if it was leaning that way they would have had a complicated on and off thing. It would probably play second fiddle to an over complicated romance for Sam.

HBO: More gore and darker themes. More explicit content (lots of seggs). Also F-bombs. Mostly from Dean. Dean’s alcolism and Sam’s demon blood addiction would have been highlighted more and it would be way darker. Destiel would be a thing and they would probably get together pretty early on.

Amazon: So much more blood. Like all the blood and all the gore. Hard core seggs. Also SO SO SO many f-bombs and other taboo curses not allowed on network television. Again, most of them from Dean. Just watch The Boys. It would basically be that, but switch the supes for monsters.

NBC: imagine if supernatural had a baby with a procedural cop/hospital/fire-fighter show. It would basically be monster of the week all the time, with some more romance. Destiel is like a fifty-fifty chance (in the later seasons when the general viewers are less afraid of gay people), but if they were together they wouldn’t get as much attention as Sam’s romance, which would probably be Eileen and everyone would love them, but still.

FOX: It would have gotten canceled after season three.

Netflix: Possibly better VFX, depending how popular it is. Shorter seasons, so way less filler episodes. I feel like it would be way more dreary or way more action packed. They would certainly queer bait Destiel, but I feel like they would be more into it than the cw (Byler vibes yk). Seeing as it is a mostly male show with mostly white leads and no sapphics in the leading role - it would not have been canceled after one season. Also seeing as Netflix wasn’t making their own shows in 2005, the time-line would have been pushed WAY up.

CBS: Less gore. It would be a procedural, monster of the week thing. It would still have its long run time. Way more drama and more suspense. Probably less humor. The only humor would come from some flat jokes or like a beloved comic relief character. Probably lots of copoganda.

Disney channel: No gore at all. Also no death, except rarely mentioned things in the past. John would probably be written as a better father. Dean and Sam would be high schoolers. They wouldn’t kill the monsters, they just put them in monster jail or some shit. Think Wizards if Waverly place (there would probably be a cross over tbh). Sam would definitely be a monster fucker dater. Him and Madison would probably be endgame. Destiel would 100% be a thing, but that’s because they’d make Cas a girl. Cas would still be an Angel, with fluffy white wings and white clothing. Also, no demons, just vampires, ghosts, and goblins and shit like that.

Nickoldian: A) An incredibly overdramatic show on teennick. Think soap opera for teenagers. They would probably make Cas a girl and there would be a love triangle with Sam and Dean. They go to like a private school for monster hunters or something. Horrible ratings. Would barely make it to 2 seasons, but it would a have a very small, but devoted fan base. B) Deeply unserious. It would probably involve Sam and Dean befriending most of the supernatural creatures. It would involve minor comical injuries mixed with mild adult humor (like Icarly and Victorious). It would be Dan Sch*ender era, so, you know, f**t.

Cartoon Network: it would be a cartoon (duh). No blood or onscreen deaths. Either a spin off of Scooby-Doo or very reminiscent of it. Either way, it would have the vibes of Mystery Incorporated. They would definitely lean more into the “Sam is a nerd” thing. If it was made during recent years, they would incorporate more magic, and Dean and Cas would be together and sickeningly adorable.

Freeform: It would be during the ABC family era technically. They’re teenagers but they’d be played by people in their late 20s. So much melodrama. Way less gore. Lots of dead bodies, but no gory deaths. PLL but instead of stalkers it’s monsters. A lot less humor. Inappropriate relationships.

BBC: it would probably be pretty much the same, except they’re, you know, British.

Just know, if I see that little boop icon, Idc who you are, or if I know you, you best BELIEVE my unruly ass is booping you!!!!

Shout out to all the Black ppl that can no longer participate directly in the fandom they love because of the stresses of racism 👍🏾 you contain multitudes of value and I'm sorry that the color of your skin and the power of your voice makes people not want to acknowledge that.

Years have passed, and you no longer write letters to Santa, but still the peculiar, one of a kind gifts keep arriving. The gifts range from opulent jewelry that has a tendency to grow warm, and sometimes even white-hot, at random intervals to small seemingly custom-made stuffed animals of nightmarish creatures turned cute and cuddly. Every year, six gifts come, wrapped in a glowing, reddish paper that was always warm to the touch, just for you, labeled in number order: 60-66. And every year, you and your family ponder who the gifts are from, and if your family should be concerned. This year, as you sit around the tree, the gifts arrive, as usual, but something is different. This year, each parcel of unknown origin is still wrapped with care in the same, ever warm, glowing wrapping, but this time, the boxes are numbered differently. The first is labeled 66.1, and they follow in order with the last labeled 66.6, and that one has a key tied into the center of the large box with a lavish bow. The key is an intricate skeleton key, forged in a reddish metal, blackened by either time or design. Its artfully carved handle looks alive, with its winding serpent-like design, and the gems inlaid at the center of the winding mass, that form an eye. As you go about your Christmas morning traditions, the eye seems to follow you as you bask in the joyful holiday, the ever-present gaze of the key blanketing you in a strange sense of security. Eventually, you get to the special, almost reverent, moment of privacy that you partake in every Christmas morning. You collect the six warm boxes, and bring them into your room, settling onto the lush rug that you had received from your unknown proprietor in a Christmas long since past. You murmur your thanks to the kindness of whatever stranger offers you these gifts, and sit staring at them all at once unnerved by the change, and oddly comforted by the key’s watchful eye. As you sit, your feelings about the strange gifts at odds with one another, curiosity leaps at its chance to take the reins. So, you reach out, and carefully lift the first box, drawing its warmth into your awaiting lap, fighting the urge to draw the familiar warmth into you, much like a child would with a teddy bear. Running your hands across the familiar wrapping, you find the tapeless edge, and slide your fingers under the lip. With a gentle tug the warm paper gives way, and you find the same wooden frame, carved by deft hands into arching landscapes of a far off land that no amount of research can locate. A smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you see the artistry, your fingers reliving the comforting texture of each stroke of the craftsman’s blade. Opening the box, you find the gift, as thoughtful and unique as ever, and murmur your thanks to your anonymous friend. You repeat the process, each gift just as unique and ornate as the last, until you get to 66.6. This box was different from all the others that had come before it. This box's carvings were just as unique as all the others, but the landscape on each side arched and twisted until it gave way to a castle. One with a threatening throne, and a several devastatingly gorgeous men and women perched about the thrones on each side. The box itself felt… different. Something about it made your chest ache, like a fresh heartbreak, but that pain was mixed with a yearning for something you couldn't quite place. Before opening the box, you survey the gifts bestowed on you by your mysterious benefactor.

Should I continue this? Because I definitely have more planned… (read written) I just hit the text limit hehehe…

When you were a child, you accidentally wrote a letter to Satan instead of Santa. Now, every year for christmas you get presents from the lord of hell himself.

THIS SAVES ME SO MUCH GRIEF OMG

So, let me guess– you just started a new book, right? And you’re stumped. You have no idea how much an AK47 goes for nowadays. I get ya, cousin. Tough world we live in. A writer’s gotta know, but them NSA hounds are after ya 24/7. I know, cousin, I know. If there was only a way to find out all of this rather edgy information without getting yourself in trouble…

You’re in luck, cousin. I have just the thing for ya.

It’s called Havocscope. It’s got information and prices for all sorts of edgy information. Ever wondered how much cocaine costs by the gram, or how much a kidney sells for, or (worst of all) how much it costs to hire an assassin?

I got your back, cousin. Just head over to Havocscope.

((PS: In case you’re wondering, Havocscope is a database full of information regarding the criminal underworld. The information you will find there has been taken from newspapers and police reports. It’s perfectly legal, no need to worry about the NSA hounds, cousin ;p))

Want more writerly content? Follow maxkirin.tumblr.com!

i wake up thirsty and i think of palestine. i go to the doctor’s office and i think of palestine. a sign in the corner of the waiting room says ‘this is a place of healing, disruptive behavior will not be tolerated’ and i think of palestine. they probably weren’t thinking of bombs and snipers and mass graves in parking lots. i call my parents and i think of palestine. i drive to the grocery store and i think of palestine. i look at the clear blue sky and i think of palestine. i put the dishes away and i think of palestine. i feed my cat and i think of palestine. i listen to music and i think of palestine. i read poetry and i think of palestine. i text my friends and i think of palestine. i think of palestine and i think of palestine and i think of palestine

iwaizumi's favorite shirt is a faded old oversized godzilla tee that he's had since high school. the navy blue fabric has gone nearly threadbare in some places, the neck has certainly seen better days. and there's a finicky hole that needs to be re-sewn in one of the armpits before it gets too out of hand again.

oikawa, mattsun, and makki all learned the hard way at one point or another that one does not borrow iwaizumi's godzilla t-shirt—not even when one is camping and "iwa-chan, you're the only one who has a spare dry shirt left, and it's freezing out, you stingy bastard!"

so when you pad over to the front door early one fall morning to let the boys inside while iwaizumi finishes packing for their hike, you're met with several curious and somewhat dumbfounded stares when they see the shirt you're wearing as pajamas.

“IWA-CHAN, YOU FINALLY DID IT?!” oikawa calls out suddenly.

“does this mean i don’t have to keep it a secret anymore?” makki exhales in relief, fist-bumping mattsun.

“let me see the ring, he wouldn’t show me,” oikawa gestures impatiently toward your hand. “he’s had it for months.”

you blink in confusion. oikawa looks down at your very empty ring finger and also blinks in confusion.

“out. right now. all of you with your big, dumb, giant ugly mouths, get out,” iwaizumi barks from somewhere behind you.

it’s only once the front door swings shut and the entryway goes quiet that you finally turn around.

—and you find your boyfriend on one knee, his shirt halfway on and toothpaste smeared on his cheek.

“i did have this entire thing planned out for later tonight,” he sighs, smiling up at you, the diamond in his hand reflecting in the soft morning light.

(at the wedding, oikawa’s speech is a 5-minute monologue about how a 14-year-old iwaizumi once told him—after punching him in the face for trying to steal that very shirt from his closet—that the only other person he’d ever let wear it would be his future wife.)

Quietly restarts JJBA for *ahem* research.

Hi 😅​

I haven't been posting a lot here.

Honestly the struggle I have finishing the TF2 child comic kinda bummed me down.

Losing my progress... TWICE !

I'll try to go back to posting tho.