future captains

the irl captain america

My favourite thing about The Foxhole Court was how nobody questioned Kevin’s needing company at all times. 

Not once did someone ask about it, they never bet on when he’d stop needing Andrew or Neil along to the Foxhole Court, they never left him alone in Eden’s Twilight. The Foxes accepted it, and Andrew’s lot did their best to be there for Kevin all of the time.

Third Years Vs Second Years!!!

“Who will win?  What will the deciding factor be?  How will victory be obtained?  IT’S A MYSTERY!”  

Translated from Kouhei’s twitter.  

I can’t stop laughing over the racist neckbeards on the Marvel Facebook page upset about a completely innocuous illustration of Miss Marvel urging people to vote as being too politically biased towards Hillary (it doesn’t say anything about who to vote for, but apparently a Muslim superhero talking about the election is too much).

And the fuckboys in the comments trying to argue that freaking Steve Rogers would be an enthusiastic Donald Trump supporter. I’m fairly certain they’ve either never read a Captain America comic or watched one of the films, or they’re just misinterpreting the character to a BAFFLING degree.

Top Misconceptions People Have about Pulp-Era Science Fiction

A lot of people I run into have all kinds of misconceptions about what pulp-era scifi, from the 1920s-1950s, was actually like. 


“Pulp-Era Science Fiction was about optimistic futures.”

Optimistic futures were always, always vastly outnumbered by end of the world stories with mutants, Frankenstein creations that turn against us, murderous robot rebellions, terrifying alien invasions, and atomic horror. People don’t change. Then as now, we were more interested in hearing about how it could all go wrong. 

To quote H.L. Gold, editor of Galaxy Science Fiction, in 1952: 

“Over 90% of stories submitted to Galaxy Science Fiction still nag away at atomic, hydrogen and bacteriological war, the post atomic world, reversion to barbarism, mutant children killed because they have only ten toes and fingers instead of twelve….the temptation is strong to write, ‘look, fellers, the end isn’t here yet.’”

The movie Tomorrowland is a particulary egregious example of this tremendous misconception (and I can’t believe Brad Bird passed on making Force Awakens to make a movie that was 90 minutes of driving through the Florida swamps). In reality, pre-1960s scifi novels trafficked in dread, dystopian futures, and fear. There was simply never a time when optimistic scifi was overrepresented, even the boyish Jules Verne became skeptical of the possibilities of technology all the way at the turn of the century. One of the most famous pulp scifi yarns was Jack Williamson’s The Humanoids, about a race of Borg-like robots who so totally micromanage humans “for our own protection” that they leave us with nothing to do but wait “with folded hands.”


“Pulp scifi often featured muscular, large-chinned, womanizing main characters.”

Here’s the image often used in parodies of pulp scifi: the main character is a big-chinned, ultra-muscular dope in tights who is a compulsive womanizer and talks like Adam West in Batman. Whenever I see this, I think to myself…what exactly is it they’re making fun of?

It’s more normal than you think to find parodies of things that never actually existed. Mystery buffs and historians, for example, can’t find a single straight example of “the Butler did it.” It’s a thing people think is a thing that was never a thing, and another example would be the idea of the “silent film villain” in a mustache and top hat (which there are no straight examples of, either). There are no non-parody examples of Superman changing in a phone booth; he just never did this.

In reality, my favorite description of pulp mag era science fiction heroes is that they are “wisecracking Anglo-Saxon engineers addicted to alcohol and tobacco who like nothing better than to explain things to others that they already know.” The average pulp scifi hero had speech patterns best described as “Mid-Century American Wiseass” than like Adam West or the Lone Ranger. 

The nearest the Spaceman Spiff stereotype came to hitting the mark was with the magazine heroes of the Lensmen and Captain Future, and they’re both nowhere near close. Captain Future was a muscular hero with a chin, but he also had a Captain Picard level desire to use diplomacy first, and believed that most encounters with aliens were only hostile due to misunderstandings and lack of communication (and the story makes him right). He also didn’t seem interested in women, mostly because he had better things to do for the solar system and didn’t have the time for love. The Lensmen, on the other hand, had a ruthless, bloodthirsty streak, and were very much like the “murder machine” Brock Sampson (an attitude somewhat justified by the stakes in their struggle). 


“Pulp Era Scifi were mainly action/adventure stories with good vs. evil.” 

This is a half-truth, since, like so much other genre fiction, scifi has always been sugared up with fight scenes and chases. And there was a period, early in the century, when most scifi followed the Edgar Rice Burroughs model and were basically just Westerns or swashbucklers with different props, ray guns instead of six-shooters. But the key thing to remember is how weird so much of this scifi was, and that science fiction, starting in the mid-1930s, eventually became something other than just adventure stories with different trappings. 

One of my favorite examples of this is A. Bertram Chandler’s story, “Giant-Killer.” The story is about rats on a starship who acquire intelligence due to proximity to the star drive’s radiation, and who set about killing the human crew one by one. Another great example is Eando Binder’s Adam Link stories, told from the point of view of a robot who is held responsible for the death of his creator.

What’s more, one of the best writers to come out of this era is best known for never having truly evil bad guys: Isaac Asimov. His “Caves of Steel,” published in 1953, had no true villains. The Spacers, who we assumed were snobs, only isolated themselves because they had no immunities to the germs of earth.


“Racism was endemic to the pulps.”

It is absolutely true that the pulps reflected the unconscious views of society as a whole at the time, but as typical of history, the reality was usually much more complex than our mental image of the era. For instance, overt racism was usually shown as villainous: in most exploration magazines like Adventure, you can typically play “spot the evil asshole we’re not supposed to like” by seeing who calls the people of India “dirty monkeys” (as in Harold Lamb). 

Street & Smith, the largest of all of the pulp publishers, had a standing rule in the 1920s-1930s to never to use villains who were ethnic minorities because of the fear of spreading race hate by negative portrayals. In fact, in one known case, the villain of Resurrection Day was going to be a Japanese General, but the publisher demanded a revision and he was changed to an American criminal. Try to imagine if a modern-day TV network made a rule that minority groups were not to be depicted as gang bangers or drug dealers, for fear that this would create prejudice when people interact with minority groups in everyday life, and you can see how revolutionary this policy was. It’s a mistake to call this era very enlightened, but it’s also a mistake to say everyone born before 1970 was evil.


“Pulp scifi writers in the early days were indifferent to scientific reality and played fast and loose with science.”

 FALSE.

 This is, by an order of magnitude, the most false item on this list.

In fact, you might say that early science fiction fandom were obsessed with scientific accuracy to the point it was borderline anal retentive. Nearly every single one of the lettercols in Astounding Science Fiction were nitpickers fussing about scientific details. In fact, modern scifi fandom’s grudging tolerance for storytelling necessities like sound in space at the movies, or novels that use “hyperspace” are actually something of a step down from what the culture around scifi was in the 1920s-1950s. Part of it was due to the fact that organized scifi fandom came out of science clubs; Hugo Gernsback created the first scifi pulp magazine as a way to sell electronics and radio equipment to hobbyists, and the “First Fandom” of the 1930s were science enthusiasts who talked science first and the fiction that speculated about it second.

In retrospect, a lot of it was just plain obvious insecurity: in a new medium considered “kid’s stuff,” they wanted to show scifi was plausible, relevant, and something different from “fairy tales.” It’s the same insecure mentality that leads video gamers to repeatedly ask if games are art. You’ve got nothing to prove there, guys, calm down (and take it from a pulp scifi aficionado, the most interesting things are always done in the period when a medium is considered disposable trash). 

One of the best examples was the famous Howard P. Lovecraft, who published “The Shadow out of Time” in the 1936 issue of Astounding. Even though it might be the only thing from that issue that is even remotely reprinted today, the letters page from this issue practically rose up in revolt against this story as not being based on accurate science. Lovecraft was never published in Astounding ever again.

If you ever wanted to find out what Star Wars would be like if they were bigger hardasses about scientific plausibility, check out E.E. Smith’s Lensman series. People expect a big, bold, brassy space opera series with heroes and villains to play fast and loose, but it was shockingly scientifically grounded.

To be fair, science fiction was not a monolith on this. One of the earliest division in science fiction was between the Astounding Science Fiction writers based in New York, who often had engineering and scientific backgrounds and had left-wing (in some cases, literally Communist) politics, and the Amazing Stories writers based in the Midwest, who were usually self taught, and had right-wing, heartland politics. Because the Midwestern writers in Amazing Stories were often self-taught, they had a huge authority problem with science and played as fast and loose as you could get. While this is true, it’s worth noting science fiction fandom absolutely turned on Amazing Stories for this, especially when the writers started dabbling with spiritualism and other weirdness like the Shaver Mystery. And to this day, it’s impossible to find many Amazing Stories tales published elsewhere.

In Sickness and In Health

Based on a prompt request from @like-waves-on-the-beach for some sick!Killian.

Summary: Emma is sick and tired, literally. As always, she perseveres by pushing through her bout of the flu because only Emma takes care of Emma. When Killian comes down with the same flu, how will he handle it? Is he a cut above the average ailing male, or will Killian manage the man flu the same way he does most things… with panache?

Thank you to my beta @xhookswenchx. I appreciate you knocking this out so quickly!!

Rated M

7.7K words

Read on ao3         


Emma’s head was pounding, she felt as if it might pop like a balloon at any moment, and her eyes actually hurt. Sitting at her office desk with her eyes closed she softly rubbed her temples.  Who messed with the goddamn heat, it’s freezing! She groaned aloud when she realized even her internal voice sounded whiny and sick. She didn’t dare verbalize any of her complaints, of course; she couldn’t have people thinking she couldn’t handle something as simple as the flu.  This was the third day, and although she wasn’t running as high of a fever anymore, she still felt like shit. The past two days she’d gritted her way through work, not wanting to shirk her responsibilities. This morning she had decided enough was enough. She put on her favorite new blouse, a pair of ultra skinny jeans, and opted to leave her hair down, curling it. She was determined to at least look good if she couldn’t feel good.

“Emma, why don’t you go home and rest? Your father and newest deputy are more than capable of holding down the fort in your absence.” Killian had walked up behind her and was gently massaging the base of her skull.

It felt like heaven as Killian rubbed her aching neck. “Newest deputy, I like that,” she mumbled.

“I’ve heard he’s quite dashing, and rather well endowed,” he whispered into her ear.

Emma laughed then grabbed her head, “It hurts to laugh.”

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Bygones of the Sun | 01 (M)

Originally posted by hobismole

Genre: Angst/fluff/(future)smut || dance captain!hoseok, bad boy!au, uni!au

Pairing: Reader x Hoseok

Length: 10.4k

Summary: Jung Hoseok was once the sweetheart of the school, the dance captain whom every girl, including you, can’t help but fall head over heels for. But like the force of the ever-glowing sun, everything that rises must also set. A year of inactivity later and he’s now the school’s resident bad boy. You’re a firm believer of allowing the past be the past, and yet you can’t help but wonder where the risen sun has gone into hiding—because perhaps its shadows have out-shined its own radiance.

01 | 02  

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CS FF: Why Can’t We Have Pancakes, Too?- Part 1/1

Summary: Emma and Killian’s children have no idea why their parents laugh every time they request pancakes for breakfast.  (Smutty future pancakes.)

Rating: Explicit

Note: So I’ve been loving all of the smutty fics that have come from that pancake scene.  This just came from thinking about how this pancake euphemism for sex might live on for years and what would happen when Emma and Killian had children of their own who want pancakes.  I originally didn’t intend to make it smutty, but I just couldn’t help myself.   Hope you enjoy it! ~Steph

…Why Can’t We Have Pancakes, Too?- Part 1/1…

Killian wrapped his arms around his wife’s waist as she poured a cup of coffee.   His lips moved to her ear.

“Last night was amazing, love,” he whispered.

Emma giggled as his lips trailed down to her neck.  

“It sure was,” she breathed, as she threw her head back onto his shoulder and closed her eyes.  

Killian’s hand moved to the belt on Emma’s robe.  He quickly undid it and slipped his hand underneath.  His fingers trailed under her camisole until he was stroking the soft skin of her stomach.   Emma let out a contented sigh as his hand began to trail down to the lace of her panties and his hook slid up to circle her nipple.

“I don’t know about you,” he muttered, as he used his teeth to pull back the robe to reveal her bare shoulder and move his mouth to it.  “But I’m really craving pancakes this morning.”

“We can’t,” she managed weakly, as he kissed her shoulder.  “The kids will be up any minute.”

Killian sighed against his wife’s skin, as he heard the pitter patter of little feet coming down the stairs.  Emma jerked her head up and elbowed him in the ribs so he would remove himself from her.   She quickly tied her robe.  Killian bit down hard on his lip and ran his hand down the front of his jeans, just as the kids made their way into the kitchen.  

“Good morning,” Emma said, dropping a kiss on their heads.

“Morning, loves,” Killian said.

The two stepped back to admire the products of their true love, as they commonly did.  It still amazed them sometimes that their love had created them.  They were like looking at miniature versions of themselves.  Ruthie blonde and fair skinned and Liam dark haired and blue eyed.   

“What’s for breakfast?” eight year old Ruthie asked, as she sat down at the table.  

“I want pancakes!” six year old Liam said.

“Me too!” Ruthie agreed.

Emma and Killian stared at their children.  They turned to look at each other and then burst out laughing.

Ruthie crossed her arms over her chest. “Why are you laughing?”

“Why do you laugh every time we ask for pancakes?” Liam asked.

Emma stifled another laugh.  “Sorry.  No time for pancakes today.  You’ll be late for school.”

“We never get to have pancakes!” Ruthie pouted.

“Yeah, you two get to have pancakes all the time without us.  It’s not fair!” Liam shouted.

Killian’s brow furrowed.  “What do you mean we get to have pancakes all the time without you?”

Ruthie shrugged. “We hear you guys talking, you know.  You don’t think we’re listening but we are.  Just last night when we walked by your bedroom, we heard you say you were having pancakes for dessert.”

“Yeah, we like pancakes and we like dessert,” Liam said. “But you didn’t ask us if we wanted any.  And you guys always tell us we should share.”

Emma and Killian shot each other a glance.  Pancakes as a euphemism for sex had become a frequent inside joke between them.  They didn’t think their children had noticed, but apparently they had.  

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We’ve Come So Far, My Dear

I’m not sure if this is the result of me trying to cope with yesterday’s news or taking advantage of the fact that I’m done with school for now and actually have time to write…either way, have some excessively cheesy CS morning fluff. Unedited, so please don’t hate me for mistakes.

Rated T | Word count: 816


She wakes up to the smell of coffee brewing and the sound of some sea shanty that’s vaguely familiar coming from the kitchen downstairs. Their bedroom door is closed, but he’s singing loud enough that he might as well be in the room with her. It’s a regular habit of his in the morning that she often wakes up early because of, but she loves him too much to complain about it.

Sitting up in bed, she stretches her arms out over her head and glances at the clock on the nightstand. It’s just after seven; she’s surprised that Killian just now seems to be up and getting ready for the day. Despite it being Saturday, he was a true sailor, and this morning routine of his should have started at least an hour ago.

As tempting as it is to lie back down and pull the sheets up over her head, she gets up and pulls on a thin black robe over the T-shirt she’d slept in. (Both Killian’s; he’d made the joke once that he didn’t realize getting married would also equal giving her free reign of his wardrobe.)

Married. The word lingers in her mind as she leaves the room and heads downstairs to see just what he’s up to. Their wedding was just over a month ago, and Emma still has trouble some days believing that this is her life now, that she has a home, a family, a husband that she falls a bit more in love with every day.

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