#Wrong Way Corrigan | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ufonaut · 4 months

Note

What are your favorite JSA designs ?

that's a very broad question given that you didn't specify which incarnation of the jsa but i'll go with a random assortment of some of my favorite members from all over :)

alan scott

there's just no beating paul reinman as far as i'm concerned! a couple designs have come close (paul smith in the golden age 1993 and eduardo barreto in all-american comics 1999 as well as mikel janin's current work on justice society of america 2022 all come to mind) but mr reinman had it all figured out all the way back in comic cavalcade 1942. the ideal alan is old hollywood handsome and just about the biggest guy in the room at all times but with rounded edges too, the kinda physique born out of physical work during his years on the railroad and later maintained by the starheart. james robinson certainly isn't wrong when he says "no one else's that tall" in tga '93 #2!

jay garrick

in contrast to alan, jay's gotta be all thin and lanky (and relatively short although he doesn't quite look it) and john byrne's the man for the job through his jsa arc in wonder woman 1987 #130-133. diego olortegui's work on jay garrick: the flash 2023 is also entirely ideal to me -- that's the jay i know and love!

jonathan law

the fantastic tarantula costume from all-star squadron is already a redesign of his original 1940s costume (which was a bit too kirby-era sandman for everybody's taste) but the gunfighter-esque look paul smith gave him in the golden age 1993 is beyond anything. so good it's unreal.

rex tyler

peter snejbjerg's hourman. perfection. something wildly deeply charming to me about the clean lines and the manic energy of his three-issue appearance in starman 1994 #77-79, perfectly in character for my ol' pal rexy. there's plenty of great hourmen out there, this one's mine :)

ted knight

it's not even worth pretending anyone has ever topped emil gershwin's work on starman or ever will. my god, it's extraordinary. it's something else entirely. emil's brief run on adventure comics 1938 was utter perfection, and that's saying something considering he followed jack burnley whose work on ted was already gorgeous!

johnny quick

mort meskin's sense of motion, his lithe lean playful impossibly dynamic johnny quick... that's the stuff of legends. it doesn't get better than meskin on more fun comics 1936, and the classics are classics for a reason.

jim corrigan

i mean, jim aparo's hard boiled detective throughout wrath of the spectre 1988. what else is there to say!

#asks #anon #alan scott #jay garrick #jonathan law #rex tyler #johnny chambers #jim corrigan #green lantern #the flash #the tarantula #hourman #johnny quick #the spectre #jsa

23 notes · View notes

watching-pictures-move · 5 months

Text

Movie Review | Superbad (Mottola, 2007)

This actually came out when I was in high school and was a pretty big hit, so the ideal time to have watched this would probably have been then. But in part because I wasn't going to the movies regularly at the time, in part because I didn't (and still probably don't) have much affection for the overarching comedic sensibilities of the era, and in part because this is one of those movies that some of the more annoying people I knew adopted as their personality, I didn't get around to it. But as I've seen two of Greg Mottola's movies over the past few days, I figured now would be as good a time as any to close this blind spot. It was unlikely I would ever again be in the same Mottola Movie Mood.

Now, this will be a shock to nobody except me, but given that I'm so so at best on a lot of beloved comedies from the era, I actually enjoyed this. Speaking from experience, this movie fundamentally understands the angst of being a loser in high school. It understands that losers don't want to be losers but are maybe a little more attached to their identities than they realize. It understands that there are different tiers of losers, and the losers in the higher tiers, perhaps due to their insecurities, will look down on the losers in the lower tiers, but are still closer to each other than with the rest of the population. And it understands that when you've internalized being a loser for a certain amount of time, it can be hard to read signals from those outside your social strata. The particulars of my exact experience are different (quite frankly, these guys are smoother than I was; McLovin at least told the girl what time it was, I would have just avoided eye contact and walked away without saying anything), but the overall sentiment rings true.

And most refreshingly, the movie is surprisingly gentle. The friendship between the heroes is well realized and acted with a certain amount of texture. The movie does not hold its female characters in contempt, and actually fleshes them out as individuals to the extent possible when filtered through the heroes' perspectives. There's a buildup near the end when one of the heroes prepares to hook up with the girl he desires that leads you to expect a cruel pull of the rug, but to the movie's credit, it does not play things that way. The results are raunchy but not mean-spirited. And most surprisingly, for a movie that came out before #MeToo, it's surprisingly sensitive around matters of consent.

You can compare this to something like Revenge of the Nerds, which is probably the '80s equivalent of something like this. Both movies have arguably lovable nerds, but the earlier movie frames the proceedings through a snobs vs slobs conflict and paints clear enemies, while this presents a story of introspection and self growth without many overt villains. And more importantly, the earlier movie is more cavalier about violating consent and has you root for its heroes as they commit straight up sex crimes. This one realizes that sex crimes are bad. That said, I must confess I enjoy the earlier movie more, in part because of the better rounded cast, in part because of the musical number, and in part because I prefer '80s boner comedy sheen to 2000s boner comedy sheen. So I'm afraid I'm on the wrong side of history with this one.

Anyway, I remember people had McLovin fever when this came out, and even I admitted that the bits in the trailer were pretty funny. But seeing the movie now, the extent to which he's transparently pushed as a breakout character felt a little clumsy. And while Mottola in general likes to structure his movies around detours from what I've been seeing, I think the scenes with McLovin and the cops grind the movie to a halt. The rest of the movie has moments of exaggeration (one of the heroes getting into a fight with Kevin Corrigan thanks to an incriminating menstrual bloodstain on their pants), but these scenes totally break the reality of the movie and feel like something out an SNL sketch. They are not free of laughs, but feel much too broad for the overall tone of the movie.

#film #movie review #superbad #greg mottola

9 notes · View notes

wiredaughter · 2 months

Text

day one = depression;

Corrupting

b.p.r.d. // abe sapien×ofc // unresolved angst // first person pov // amoral oc // ao3

Grief. What an alien word. So often associated with loss, and loss I know, but whatever this is I don’t. I’m more prone to anger and avoidance, but there’s nothing left in me at this, at Sapien’s… Abraham’s motionless body suspended in a test tube of sorts. It's like those directories have been overwritten, leaving me to crash. And crash I do. Anger would be easy, at Devon and Manning and Corrigan and the whole bureau, since I’ve never cared about precision in my wrath. At Hellboy for leaving and Sherman for disappearing, even at the homunculus for dying off.

Only Johann Kraus joins me in my watch, when he's not away on a mission. You'd think they'd given that up, world going to shit and all. You’d think he’d say more encouraging things, as a ghost psychic, but I don’t have it in me to resent him his uselessness. I think he thinks I appreciate the company, but I’m beyond caring. I join him as he leaves now, figure I could use a shower, only to run into Andrew Devon in the hallway. He was there when Abraham got shot, like as not he did it himself. I’m reminded I’m alive by the loathing that bubbles up my throat.

‘You’re dead, Devon!’ Not my brightest, but I’m bereaved if you’ll allow it.

He mutters some smart reply or other, but I only barely hear it. I’m sliding off Kraus’ preventative hold on my shoulder, even if he doesn't know my suspicions he knows there's no love lost between us with the way he bought into the Black Flame's assertions, and shoving my way past Devon and, were his mates here all along? And the gutter psychic? Unimportant. Everyone’s so irrelevant. I just notice her because she was there too when it happened, they could all be here or in hell like I care.

It’s all the same when I go back in, alone now. I don’t know what I’m doing, but there’s no other place for me here. And next to him, much to Manning’s chagrin, I spend my days. I lay my hands on the glass, step away, reach out with my thoughts trying to make any contact. Trying to find anything to make contact with. I stare. At some points I even trick myself to think I’ve seen his fingers twitch, his eyelids flutter. No use.

Just like I'm no use now. I don't forget the entire planet is under attack, it's more like a secondary thought for me. To hell with the bureau and the country and the entire earth. There's outbreaks, giant bat beasts or whatever it is this week, my father writes from safety. It's only that last one I spare a thought to, but can't bring myself to reply. I've ran into an unhandled exception and I'm, for once in my life, unable to debug.

It’s over, eventually. His vitals crash, and the whitecoats suspect extensive brain damage. Even Kraus says his soul is fighting to leave. Well and good, so should I. I don’t make an attempt to hold my tears back, I let them out freely for I won’t need them where I’m going. And I'm going; I feel the code of my life corrupting, line by line. I wasn’t able to save Abraham from his own bleeding heart, but I’ll still make sure those who pushed him to this pay.

I’m in every computer here, should have thought of that before they made me head of R&D, I know of the correspondence between the higher ups and the Zinco frauds. As fate would have it, I’m also in their system, thanks to a polymorphic I piggybacked through Manning’s emails. They’re, as only I understand it, the enemy. Now I’ll be the enemy too. Sapien thought honesty would win this, get the bureau to actually work with the special agents instead of working them. He’d be horrified if he knew I’m to defect for the frog terrorists, but that’s just a distant consideration to me. He was wrong and now he’s as good as dead. He’s as good as dead, and now I’m going to make them sorry.

#marchofpain2024 #depression #abe sapien x ofc

2 notes · View notes

dailyhistoryposts · 2 years

Text

On This Day In History

July 17th, 1938: American aviator Douglas Corrigan, set to fly from Brooklyn to Long Beach, California, flies the wrong way across the Atlantic Ocean to Ireland due to a claimed 'navigational error'. He is since remembered as "Wrong Way" Corrigan (he almost certainly did it on purpose, but refused to admit it).

#history #aviator #aviator history #us history #irish history

62 notes · View notes

ewanmitchellcrumbs · 11 months

Note

I think alot of people look at the notes of your posts and equate it to follower count.

not taking into consideration that not every person who interacts with your work is a follower or consistently is exposed to your work.

Love your advice, it's honestly the best to give.

Don't do it because you want fame, the people who interact are just bonuses.

My follower count is something I've never felt comfortable sharing. To quote Mark Corrigan from Peep Show: "don't flaunt your wad, Jeremy, it's unbecoming."

Don't get me wrong, I am incredibly grateful for every person that goes out of their way to follow me and interact with me, and I've always strived to make my blog a welcoming space for people, but the day I stop writing will be the day my enjoyment of it begins to fade, not when the notes and followers begin to dip.

Chasing engagement is the quickest way to suck the fun out of writing, as you will drive yourself crazy seeking validation. I choose to focus on improving my craft and making sure I become a better writer with each piece that I finish. Anything else is arbitrary.

#asked and answered

11 notes · View notes

murderousink23 · 10 months

Text

07/17/2023 is World Emoji Day 🌏, World Day for International Justice ⚖🌏, Korean Constitution Day 🇰🇷, National Peach Ice Cream Day 🍦🇺🇲, National Yellow Pig Day 🇺🇲, Wrong Way Corrigan Day 🛩🇺🇲, National Get Out of the Dog House Day 🐶🏠🇺🇲

#world emoji day #world day for international justice #korean constitution day #national peach ice cream day #national yellow pig day #wrong way corrigan day #national get out of the dog house day

0 notes

unravelingwires · 8 months

Text

Zyga

“You can’t even say his name, can you?” He stepped forward, smirking. “The Uncrowned King, Narayana. You can be pithy about it, but you sully our nobility, and in a year’s time, I’ll be able to pay back every blasted insult with interest.”

Jaya twisted her head up to bare her neck properly. “And why, precisely, don’t you start now?”

Theodore twitched. Jaya triggered the knife, shattering the cuffs chaining her to the wall.

Theodore flailed a hand, sending splinters of rock forwards. Jaya turned her stumble into a roll, ducking under the shards and hiding her knife up her sleeve. She gathered mist with her right hand, freezing it and shooting it towards him.

The spike froze in midair, a hair from Theodore’s neck. The rocks froze. Jaya smirked before flicking her fingers, letting the ice inch forwards. Theodore jerked backwards before smoothing his stride into something deliberate, finally dropping the dramatic mist.

Jaya recalled the ice. “Corrigan.”

Theodore exhaled. “Narayana.”

The two turned simultaneously to walk away.

---

“Jamie, I don’t care how much of a pratt you are,” Priya said. “I loved you before you were born.”

---

Katie groaned. “That’s so long!”

“We have been apart for centuries in the past. Now you’re complaining about three months?” Vidya asked.

“We weren’t roommates before!” Katie slumped against Vidya, pouting. “I’m going to be so lonely without you.”

“I’m just going to see what Artemisia is so ruffled about,” Vidya said. “You know it’s unwise to say no to her.”

“God—”

“That’s a little blasphemous—”

“It’s not like it’ll be serious. She’s going to say ‘it’s a threat to our entire family,’ you’re going to say ‘vampires don’t make up a family,’ she’ll try to convince you otherwise, you’ll roll your eyes and walk out. Why even make the trip?”

“It’s easier to respect the elders,” Vidya sighed, “even if this will most likely be an inconsequential waste of my time.”

“You agree with me!”

“It’s not like I like her lording authority. It’s just not unjust enough to fight properly.”

Katie straightened. “But we can subvert.”

“Katie…”

“No, this will be great. I’m coming with you.”

---

Nila groaned, put her head in her hands. Lexi laughed semi-hysterically.

---

“Dr. Campbell just had a word with me,” Luke said.

“I imagine it was similar to the word they had with me.” Lakshmi licked a bit of strawberry froyo off her hand. Luke snorted. “Was it enjoyable?”

“Oh, yeah, I love being chewed out by someone who isn’t even actually my boss about something that’s barely a problem.”

Luke went deadpan. “How dare you endanger this mission with slight passive aggression. Dr. Kumari is a fragile flower, and she will jettison you into space if you step wrong.”

Lakshmi tipped her head, considering. “We’re all 15, so none of us can handle the slightest amount of social tension!”

“I hate sociable competition and friendly teasing.”

“No money-talk at the dinner table!”

“I have the biggest stick up my ass of anyone on the team, including Rosenberg.”

Both of them laughed. “I don’t understand Rosenberg,” the Lakshmi mused. “I mean, I get that she wants respect, but why she thinks being cold will get her there…”

Luke snorted. “Of course, the correct way to obtain respect is to insult the person disrespecting you constantly, in public.”

“Hypocrite.”

“That was about me, actually. But if the shoe fits…”

Lakshmi scraped the last bit of froyo from her cup. “This wasn’t about getting you to respect me, I don’t think. It was about getting everyone else to. You’re right, though. It was bad tactics, and I’m sorry for bringing you into it.”

The Chemist paused, looking at her. “I cannot tell if you really mean that.”

“This is the part where you apologize back so we can both move on with our lives.”

“I’m sorry my superiority at everything we’ve tried bruised your ego.”

“Fuck you.” Lakshmi laughed, again. Her tone turned saccharine and she fluttered her eyelashes. “Don’t you want to be friends?”

“Do not lecture me about friendship. I remember Fae.”

“Oh, you can’t remind me of her. That’s way too low a blow.” Lakshmi leaned back. “Okay, what do we do about this.”

“Do about what?” At her expression, Luke said, “Alright, alright, how’s this. We’ll stop talking to each other except when we need to. We’ll be extremely professional to the point where it makes Cambell uncomfortable. You won’t call me ‘Luke’ again. We just need to get through another half-year. After that, we’ll be too far into space for them to remove us from the project.”

“That works for me.” Lakshmi swung to her feet. “We should do this again sometime, Chemistry.”

“Chemistry?”

“Like fuck am I calling anyone ‘Lucian.’”

The Chemist got up, then hesitated. “Were you serious about doing this again sometime?”

Lakshmi gave him a look. “What, are you—no. Good day, Dr. Whittemore.”

She was halfway out the door before he managed, “Good day, Dr. Kumari.”

#A musical zyga refers to a connection between tones and chords #parallels #creative writing #my writing #library of babel #space romp #jayaverse #the crossovers #vampire heist #unedited

2 notes · View notes

storiesofsvu · 2 years

Text

Brazen Qualities Ch 5

Warnings: language, smut, dirty talk, guided masturbation.

The Dunbar campaign team was fully back in D.C, furthering their work and planning the next stages of the tour, prepping for the caucus in Iowa the following month. During this time frame you spent more of your time wrapping up the few Supreme Court cases that you had on your plate and meeting with the attorney who was reopening your old investigation.

The Underwood’s were overseas in Russia, working through a handful of deals and negotiations, including getting John’s husband back home. You were keeping your ear open to the conversations going on, taking a little bit off of Heather’s plate while she focused on what was going locally. To be completely honest, you were a little bored, there was a lot less for you do than your old job at the moment and in those downtimes you definitely missed the fire of the courtroom.

Through your political connections over the years you did have a couple of contacts who either resided in Moscow or were among the Underwood’s staff that were with them. It wasn’t a surprise to you when you got the text, you’d been expecting drama from the trip but you hadn’t expected this. Double checking the time, you grabbed what you needed and headed down to the Dunbar campaign office, slipping in the back donor unnoticed by anyone. Heather was behind her desk and much to your distaste, Doug was in a chair across from her,

“We’re kind of in the middle of something.” He stated as you came through the back doorway.

“Yeah, I really don’t care.” You replied, “and chances are she’ll tell me whatever you say anyways.”

“Did you-“ Concern and slight anger flashed over his face as his gaze shot back to Heather and you knew he was worried about whatever the fuck was in that journal.

“No.” Heather replied sternly, which, technically wasn’t a lie. Sure, she’d been about to tell you, but you had stopped her before she’d gotten into any kind of details, not that she was against lying to Doug. “Did you find something?” She asked you. You dropped down a tray of coffee on her desk that she thanked you for and you swatted Doug’s hand away when he reached for one.

“Michael Corrigan killed himself in his cell.”

“What? How?” You pursed your lips, pulling up the address to the nation.

Claire was supposed to say some condolences, but instead went off about how she was in the cell (asleep) when it happened, that he hadn’t wanted to lie and repeat the speech the government had demanded for his release. You could tell by the tenseness in Frank’s voice alone that he was not happy with her.

“Give us a minute.” Heather said to Doug, moving from her desk, pulling you into the back hallway. “What does this look like to you?”

“Political negotiations gone wrong, and trouble in paradise…for starters. If you wanna go after Underwood, I’d do it now, kick ‘em while he’s down kinda thing.”

“You think we should use this to our advantage?”

“To a point, yeah. Make a statement about Michael’s death, you’ve had John with you on multiple stops, it looks irresponsible if you don’t. Once I find out more info on how the deals were altered I’ll send them your way and you can make statements about how you’ll be trying to do things differently, especially with Russia involved. And then…use social media to enunciate the fact that you have what Underwood doesn’t at the moment.” Heather cocked a brow, prompting you to continue, “a family, a loving and stable marriage? Hell get your kids to throw up something on Instagram about the fun summer they’re having with their parents.”

“So we’re ignoring Iowa?”

“What happened in Iowa stays in Iowa.” You fired back.

“I guess it’s a good thing we’re going back to Iowa then.” She smirked and you felt your cheeks blaze substantially, nearly stuttering as you tried to change the subject.

“Do you really trust him in there alone?” You asked, gesturing toward the closed door.

“It’s not like we’re keeping national secrets in there or anything.” Heather laughed, “thank you for the info.” She gave your shoulder a soft squeeze, “I’ll call you later if I figure anything out.”

“Course.” You gave her a soft smile before you turned down the stairs, heading out the way you’d came.

A few hours had passed since you’d gotten home, you’d showered, changed into comfier clothes and tucked into a glass or two of wine with dinner while you kept a wary eye on the evening news. Realizing you’d left your phone in the bedroom you returned to grab it and were incredibly thankful you’d gotten there in time, Heather’s name flashing across the screen.

“Hey-“

“You have your call feature voice activated don’t you?” She asked and you could practically hear the smirk through the phone.

“What?”

“Your phone automatically calls a contact when it hears a name…” your brows furrowed, still confused, “you called me about twenty minutes ago…left quite the voicemail…”

Oh fuck.

You nearly dropped your wine glass, realizing exactly what activities you had been involved in twenty minutes ago, you felt the flush creep up your neck, flubbing over words in an attempt to explain yourself.

“I-uh-“

“We’re you using that ridiculous little pink thing?”

“Uhm…” your gaze dropped to your bed where said toy was still lying. “Yes…”

“I want you to use your hands this time.”

“What?” Your heart jumped into your throat, the thudding building heavier in your ears…among other areas beginning to flutter, your brain eventually pulling through before your pussy did, “wait. Are you at home?”

“No.” Heather replied with a soft sigh, “still at the office. Cynthia just left. I was wrapping up paperwork but this seemed like a much more enticing idea.”

“Oh…”

“Now I don’t want to have to tell you twice kitten…get comfortable, put the phone on speaker.”

Not wanting the idea to go to waste, you did as she said, placing the phone on speaker and tossing it onto your bed. You slipped out of your pyjama pants, climbing onto the bed and settling against the pillows. Heather could hear the slight rustling, the near shaky sigh as you let out as you laid down on the bed, the sound of the duvet crinkling as you spread your legs.

“Are you still wet?” God her voice was like fucking silk, you felt your pussy twitch before you’d even gone anywhere near it. A hand snuck down, swiping easily between your folds. Your last orgasm had been more than powerful, the thought of Heather between your legs again overtaking your senses.

“Yes..”

“Good.” She smiled to herself, hearing the way your breathing had already began to increase and she’d barely started. “Play with yourself, get that beautiful pussy nice and drenched for me.”

“Yes M’am….” Your hand began to toy with the leaking juices, spreading your lips apart, flicking against your clit ever so softly, a light whine coming from your lips.

“I only wish I was there with you kitten, getting to mark up that gorgeous neck of yours…suck on your tits, I know how much you like it when I do that. Play with your tits for me, will you?”

You whimpered out a yes, your free hand sneaking under your shirt, cupping at your chest, rolling your nipple between your fingers, gasping as you pinched at it, hardening the peak. You repeated the actions on the other side, the hand between your legs beginning to circle at your clit. Your hips rocked up, you could feel more juices leaking out onto the sheets, your pussy simply begging to be fucked. Heather listened as you let out a breathy whimper, picturing the way you must be thrown back against your bed, all pretty and on display just for her, head thrown back into the pillows, neck exposed and ready for her to mark up. She clenched her thighs together when you let out a moan.

“You nice and wet for me?”

“Yes…” you whined.

“Then get to it kitten. Start fucking yourself. I know how good you are with your hands.”

“You’re better…” you murmured, causing her to chuckle.

“Slide those fingers in, I know you know how.”

Your hand toyed briefly at your entrance before plunging in, the feel of your wet walls tightening around them fucking heavenly. A moan bounced off the walls as you started to pump your hand, a cry escaping your lips into the phone when you curled, brushing right against your g-spot.

“Oh God…”

“That’s it…just like that.” Heather could hear how wet you were, the sopping sounds coming through the phone as your fingers thrusted into your pussy, hips rolling in time with the motion. “That feel good for you?”

“Yes…” you moaned out, “oh fuck Heather..” to be completely honest, she wasn’t sure what was hotter, hearing you moan her name when she was coaching you through it, or when you had no idea she was listening.

“Harder kitten…play with that clit with your other hand. I want to make you feel as good as you made me last time.” You groaned out in response, your fingers pinching at your clit, the praise that you’d made her feel incredible turning you on more. Fuck did you ever want her hands on you right now, and her next words had you wantonly moaning out her name, “can’t wait to taste you again kitten. That pussy’s so fucking delicious…”

“Oh fuck…oh fuck!” Your hands furiously fucked your cunt, wetness seeping out, the squelching sounds much louder than you’d expected. You were still relatively sensitive from your earlier session, your thighs beginning to shake as the hand on your clit rubbed harder, moving faster against the little nub.

“You’ve been so good, come for me…”

The strangled cry leaving your lips was louder than you’d expected, your body shuddering against the mattress as your juices dribbled out around your fingers. A string of whimpered swears left your lips and all Heather wanted was to be able to see you as you hit your peak. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair and started to think about getting herself off before she went home. She could hear your panting, picturing your flushed cheeks and heaving chest, your fluttering eyelids, and the thought made her weak.

“Wasn’t that better?” She quietly asked. You softly giggled, your head rolling to look at the phone.

“Yes…but still would’ve preferred you..”

“Mmm…Iowa’s not that far off.” Her phone beeped and she swore, the sultry ness in her voice suddenly vanishing, “I’ve got a call coming in on my other line. You’re coming to that meeting tomorrow, yes?”

“Yeah. Two fifteen, right?”

“I’ll see you there.”

“Yup.”

With that, the call was cut short. You let out a heavy sigh, your body still vibrating in the slightest from the intensity of your orgasm.

It appeared what happened in Iowa didn’t actually stay in Iowa.

#heather dunbar #heather dunbar x reader #brazen qualities #house of cards

21 notes · View notes