i think it had something to do with adventure time at one point

Why Ducktales is important

At least…If you like Disney Television Animation.  

Which I do.  Oh so much.  

If you’re a fan of Gravity Falls, or Star vs. The Forces of Evil, or Wander Over Yonder, or Kim Possible, or Gargoyles, or any Disney Television show, then gather ‘round because I’m about to teach you some history.  

“Never forget, that it all started with a Mouse,”~~Walt Disney.

Great things come from humble origins.  Never forget that Disney TV…All started with a Duck.  

It was the 1980s.  Disney Television Animation was a new department at Walt Disney Studios.  And Disney was suffering.  These days it’s easy to think of Disney as a mega-giant, but back then, Disney was suffering.  Movies were being produced on shoestring budgets, and animators (such as Don Bluth) were jumping ship to find work at studios that were paying better and producing better content.  The Little Mermaid hadn’t yet hit theaters, sparking the Disney Renaissance.  The fledgeling animation department had produced two shows prior, “The Wuzzles” and “The Adventures of Gummy Bears”.  

Disney was in dire straights from Walt’s passing in 1966 left the studio suffering up until the 80s, when they started to take a few risks.  Risks that paid off.  The studio gambled on the idea that investing more money into quality animation would pay off in the long run if the show went into syndication.  It was something that worked well with live action, but had yet to be done with animation to that degree.  Cheap animation with tons of shortcuts could be syndicated, but something high-quality had never been done before.  

Ducktales was the first show that attempted this, and it paid off handsomely.  Not only was the show a hit with audiences (and a merchandising cash-cow) but it changed the game.  It set the stage for the Disney Afternoon a few years down the road, and paved the path for every show I mentioned at the beginning.  Without Ducktales, there would be no Gargoyles, no Star vs. The Forces of Evil, no Gravity Falls.  

Heck, I take it even one step beyond that…Without the inspiration of proof-of-concept, I’d wager that even OTHER studios cartoon creations wouldn’t exist.  No Animaniacs, No Adventure Time, no Steven Universe (and don’t think I missed the shout-out to Ducktales in “Onion Trade”) 

Ducktales was important because it raised the craft of animation to another level, combining storytelling with good, non-repetitive animation to produce quality TV.  For a time, Ducktales was Disney’s Flagship TV series, waving the banner and representing the company in the realm of television animation. 

And even today, the classic Ducktales series holds up rather nicely.  Sure, some things are a little dated, but at the end of the day, I enjoy watching Ducktales without reservations.  That’s why I own the DVD sets.  

 And it’s why I’m so happy about this reboot.  

This isn’t just a revamp of an old show.  This is Disney returning to its roots, reclaiming a bit of it’s history and polishing it off for the next generation.  I’m a little misty eyed.  I had some initial misgivings when this was announced, but the cast announcement melted those fears away, and now, seeing the trailer that dropped less than 24 hours ago…I don’t think I’ve ever been this excited for a TV series ever.  

Breaking down this trailer, we finally hear David Tennant as Scrooge McDuck.  I’ve actually been aware of Tennant’s presence in the voiceover scene for a few years now (Most notably, he plays bit parts in the How To Train Your Dragon franchise from Dreamworks) But hearing him as Scrooge…I really feel it works.  He’s got a certain quality the echos the late, great Alan Young, and I feel like he couldn’t have been better cast without some of that good old fashioned Disney Necromancy (And as we know, they used up their allotment of Necromancy on Peter Cushing for Rogue One) 

I love that the Nephews are getting unique characterization and personality. I loved Russi Taylor’s performance way back when, but one Nephew was really interchangeable with another.  Dani Pudi, Ben Schwartz, and Chris Moynihan really bring an awesome chemistry to their roles, just from the trailer.

And then there’s Webbigail.  Oh my God, I love how they’ve rebooted Webby.  She was always the annoying load back in the classic series.   Making her a Donald Duck fangirl is freaking GENIUS (and Kate Micucci is perfect for this role too) Bonus points given for Webby’s infamous “Quacky-Patch Doll”  being used for dart practice in the background of her room.  Webby has gone from outright “The Load” territory, to one of the most fun-seeming characters present in the reboot.  

And all of this from one minute and a half trailer.  I can’t wait for this series, even though I know I must.  I know it’s gonna be something special, I can feel it.  Maybe even Disney’s Flagship show, once again.  Stay tuned to my Tumblr, for much, much more.

One thing I know for certain that I’m going to do when the pilot for this airs…A side by side comparison of the Classic Pilot and the new one.  

Peace out, 

Disney Wizard

The Time I Took On the Military (And Won)

Considering the staggering amount of votes this one got, here you go!

ok so it’s my sweet sixteen and i took two of my closest friends paintballing. We started off alone with just the three of us. Me and this girl formed a truce so we could take out her brother. He found a building with a roof to shoot from so i was criss crossing and sliding behind shelters.

Long story short with this guy i snuck up behind his building and shot him point blank in the ass while he was climbing a ladder.

Except now his sister is my enemy and a much larger threat.

I criss cross my way back narrowly avoiding being shot. I skid to a stop behind this bush with a really gappy fence and go GOOD ENOUGH BRING IT ON and poke my muzzle through. I cant particularly see but I remembered seeing her in a little chapel window. I aim that general direction and open fire. I immediately hear HIT. When she comes out i see where i hit her. Right between the eyes like I couldnt do that again if I tried. Ill take it.

We’re back at the base ops and these massive dudes come over like “yo wanna join us we need more players” and we’re like “oh ya bud the more the merrier” so we go over and everyone is freaking massive and there’s us three tiny lil teenagers. I over hear they’re a military team and just sigh because i know im dead this is just my luck

Apparently they wanted us so that they could simulate having civilian to protect, who were also armed. (They did a piss poor job of this seriously wtf)

So the game starts and im seperated from my friends. They’re on the opposite team.

Im sticking near the leader and just generally trying not to die. He’s giving me orders as softly and nicely as he can, thinking Im scared. I mean really who wouldnt be?

I wasnt. I was ready to kick butt. When I am silent, be afraid, im planning something.

Next thing i know he’s gone. Shot, running, hiding i dont know and i dont care i gotta move there are way too many heavily armed men in these woods for me to be comfortable

Im trekking through this woodsy area keeping as low as possible because the other team has a freaking sniper and im not dealing with that no thanks im just a tiny teenager leave me alone ok

Im doing my thing and trying to find people to shoot because everyone is mia when i see people ahead.

Not my people.

And they havent seen me yet. Im looking around looking for some decent cover or somewhere to take them by surprise and there is nothing. The entire area is just thistle bushes with massive thorns. And then my idea hits. A wicked, mischievous idea. I grin behind my mask and get ready to lay my trap.

I plop myself down right in the middle of these thistles and army crawl to the path their taking and just lay still.

These guys dont see me.

They’re not expecting someone to be in these bushes cause who is that dumb.

The one dudes boot is an inch from my hand and i spring up and yell SURPRISE before shooting him right in the chest and then the two behind him. Three down, way too many to go. I ran away cackling like a witch

Dont die dont die dont die

I head out again and meet up with some more of my group. They stick me at the back to keep me out of harms way. A valiant, if ineffective effort

Enter enemy attack.

We get split up into two groups to flank them and i end up alone again. I moving slowly, spinning in a slow circled because I am EFFED

I’m a tiny lil sixteen year old girl, all alone, with about 15 guns pointed at me. I was completely surrounded. My comrades who had fled to live and fight another day are now making haste towards me like WHO LEFT THE KID BEHIND HELP HER and im like

hell no i got this

I went absolutely ape shit on their asses.

Shots are flying around me like crazy and everyone is screaming. One of the enemies shouts FALL BACK WHAT THE FU–

I hear one if my partners like HOLY SHIT SHE’S ALIVE

I barrel over one of the attackers and side arm his gun away. I break out from the Circle of Doom and make a mad dash for cover.

I leap into the air and spin to fave them. Im not getting shot in the back I an a WARRIOR

I just start spraying with a battle cry to rattle the heavens

I smack back down to earth and land in a crouch

Every single one of the attackers were shot, usually multiple times, and i didnt get shot once. Frankly no clue how i managed but I am NOT questioning it. Luck or skill I dont care

Eventually it was down to two people. Me and the other teams captain.

He’s a big, scary dude. He had a custom gun that could pop off a frankly alarming amount of shots per second.

The odds arent exactly in my favour.

We find each other right in the middle with trenches and tiny little metal fences for cover. Im walking through like plz dont shoot me i am small be nice

The dude pops up from a trench and starts firing. No mercy here.

Fine then.

I duck behind a fence and it is the most pathetic thing i have ever seen.

I have barely enough room to crouch behind it because it’s so small. The other dude finds a nice big trench and big fence the lucky lil jerk.

So we’re poppin up like weasels trying to get a shot in. I cant hit him, he cant hit me. Up and down and up and down. My fence angles down ever so slightly so im tucked in as tightly as I could. My fence is rattling as shot after shot after shot hits. The shots stop, i poke my muzzle over the edge amd lay down some fire.

And the cycle repeats

I get tired of this little exchange so the next time he goes down i lay on some cover fire and sprint like hell for a near by trench like i am just bookin it thinking dont shoot me dont shoot me imma kill you

i slide in and pop up just as he rises to take a shot. Except im not where he thought id be.

I shot him right in the side of his bald lil head.

So i won. My team legit carried me on their shoulders back to base ops

And that’s the time I, a sixteen year old girl, beat a team of militarily trained behemoths

Like honestly, why is it such a big deal that Ron struggles and complains about his problems once in a while when all other times he is always does his best to be there for his friends with their problems? People who complain about him act like he’s super unsympathetic and never helps Harry when like, off the top of my head, things Ron has done:

-Would always either stay at Hogwarts so Harry wouldn’t be alone on Christmas, or would invite Harry to his family’s for Christmas. Was also super casual about it and would come up with excuses why he was doing this so Harry wouldn’t feel awkward.

-when Harry didn’t write back to him, he quickly became worried the Dursleys were doing something bad to him, told his family about it (SEVERAL TIMES, apparently)  (like as far as I can tell every single day Harry didn’t write back Ron was panicking about it to his parents and siblings and wondering what the hell was going on) and then he hatched a plan with his brothers to steal a car, break the law, fly all the way to Harry’s house, forcibly grabbed him from his screaming relatives and then took him to his house. 

-Generally acts super chill about his mum blatantly giving Harry more attention than him, because he knows Harry needs it. Like, aside from a few jokes about it, he never acted overtly resentful about that. I think the Horcrux revealed that it made him insecure about whether his mum liked Harry more deep down (I’d have to reread the seventh book it’s been a while) yet he never once mentioned this. The fact he never let that show out of empathy for Harry is pretty impressive.

-tried to call Harry on the telephone despite not knowing how to use it and was then worried that he got Harry in trouble.

-when Harry wrote that he needed food, Ron once again informed his entire family and got an entire truckload sent to him.

-He informed Harry that even if he had to kidnap him from the Dursley’s home again, he was going to get Harry to spend the summer with them his family and see the Quidditch World Cup. He worked with his family to get an invitation sent to the Dursleys, then immediately wrote Harry a personal note saying “btw if they say no we’re coming anyway I will beat them all up if i have to”)

-if anyone badmouths Harry or Hermione in front of him, even someone he likes (like Seamus), he will rabidly defend them and basically prepare to fight that person.

-this includes teachers

-if someone calls Hermione (or anyone) a slur he will have to be physically restrained from attacking that person.

-when McG wouldn’t let Harry go to Hogsmeade Ron was in deep despair over the unfairness of it all, got personally angry and called McG several curse words. He and Hermione got Harry ton of sweets while they were there and tried to downplay how fun it was.

-When Percy wrote him a letter telling him to drop Harry as a friend, Ron made a giant show of ripping the letter into pieces and throwing it dramatically into a fire (what a nerd, honestly)

-generally did his best to be patient and understanding with Harry’s depression and anger issues in fifth year, but would firmly point out to him when he was crossing a line without flipping out back at him.

(which, as previous examples demonstrate, Ron’s fuse is pretty short, so that likely required a lot of effort on his part) 

(like, he and Hermione never invalidated Harry’s feelings, but Ron would point out when he was getting angry at the wrong people in a pretty calm way.  He said something like “It’s not our fault Snape and Umbridge are like that. We think you should stop taking it out on us when we’re on your side.” He was able to set boundaries and make Harry realize his behavior wasn’t okay while also making it clear he knew he was dealing with a lot and he was here for him and supported him. Pretty good example of how to friend and a lot more mature than most 15 year olds could have managed.)

-when he found out about Umbridge’s abuse, he was visibly sickened, argued with Harry for a long time than he needed to tell an adult, was upset Harry hadn’t mentioned it and when he couldn’t convince Harry, apparently told Hermione so she could help out and give him healing stuff. 

-also just the general fact he gladly went along with all of Harry’s super dangerous adventures and literally said he would die for him and never acted resentful of nearly getting murdered on a regular basis due to association with Harry

-guys Ron even told Voldermort to shut up when he said something mean about Harry i mean. let’s just consider that. He yelled at Voldemort. I’m pretty sure he was the first one who started yelling too.

So I really don’t get why people focus on the few times Ron complained and the whole two times in their seven year friendship when he got so fucked up about his own issues that he fought with Harry and didn’t support him (and the second time probably would not have happened if it weren’t EVIL SOUL SHARD THAT AMPLIFIED NEGATIVE FEELINGS) when the entire rest of their friendship is unwavering support. It’s so weird to me. You don’t have to like Ron, but acknowledge characters can be flawed and human and don’t hold him to ridiculous standards.

post-emoji movie Trauma

WARNING: the following text contains spoilers and can be considered disturbing to some readers. especially my brain, because it’s leaking out my ears after typing this.

This is the first movie ever I’ve gone to see on opening night. And let me just say that, for the record, I’m glad I went to watch with friends. Without them, I would have most likely calmly exited the room, climbed up to the roof, and dived straight off.

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The One That Got Away

by reddit user bookshelfghost

Lily Harrison and I met at a graduation party when we were eighteen. As soon as I walked into the house, her bubbling laughter caught my attention. I couldn’t help but grin because it was so contagious, and she’d noticed. Already a couple drinks in, she pointed right at me and shouted, “Hey. You’re cute. Come be my partner.” 

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IT’S GETTING KINDA HOT IN HERE

*I wrote this with the sun and mars signs in mind*

Aries: It was a cool summer night. “You’re crazy.” I said as you pulled me towards an abandoned building. “Don’t be scared, I just wanna check it out.” We wandered through the decaying concrete, graffiti on every wall possible. I was so scared but I was trying hard not to lose my cool. After all you were absolutely loving this. There was a loud creak and I jumped, grabbing your arm. “Babe calm down, look at me.” You said soothingly, rubbing my shoulders. We made out there in the middle of the building; in the middle of the night. Your kisses enthralling, and for a moment I forgot about everything else. The creak came again but louder, “Okay, fuck this.” You laughed, grabbing my hand and we ran as fast as we could out of there and into the summer air.

Taurus: It was pitch black, our kisses growing more urgent as you fumbled around trying to undo my buttons. “I can’t see anything.” you chuckled. I sparked my lighter and you looked around for a candle, finding one and lighting it with my flame; never taking your eyes off me. You undid my pants quickly with a smirk on your face and threw them dramatically across the room. Your lips finding mine again, making up for the loss of contact. “You are so fucking hot” you whispered, running your hands down my body, a trace of goosebumps forming on my skin. You pushed in slowly, moaning as you felt my heat. You buried your face in my hair I lost all focus. I just held on for dear life as the candlelight flickered erratically on the ceiling.

Gemini: Your bedroom was covered with so many posters I couldn’t see what colour it was painted. You had not one, but two lava lamps, one purple and one orange. We were laying on your floor, listening to Frank Ocean on vinyl, “Sometimes I think about faking my own death, and leaving the parts I don’t like about myself behind.” you said somberly, drawing lazy circles on my stomach with your finger. “Where would you go?” I asked. You propped your head up, your adorable face flushed purple in the light from the lamp. “Anywhere but here,” you said pulling me even closer, “only as long as I could take you with me though.” I ran my finger across your bottom lip and you bit it, we giggled quietly, then sighed. You kissed me so deeply, like an ocean tide that ebbs and flows. We made love, slow love right there on your bedroom floor. Every now and then, when things are quiet, parts of that night come back in flashes when I close my eyes.

Cancer: Snow had been coming down like crazy all day and everybody was staying inside. We had made the heroic journey to the store to get the bare necessities. Popcorn, paprika Pringles and those fruity toffees. Now we were cuddled in an abundance of duvets and pillows watching Spirited Away. “Are you cold?” you asked softly. “No I’m actually really warm.” I said adjusting the pillows behind me. Your eyes shot around the room, you bit your lip as your gaze landed on me. “What?” I asked when I noticed you staring. You grinned, “I’m kinda cold.” I couldn’t help but laugh as I lifted my blanket and pulled you into my cocoon. Your hand slipped under my shirt as you got comfortable. “Oh my god, your hand is freezing.” I shrieked. “Warm me up then.” you teased as you kissed me gently.

Leo: “You are such a goddamn hypocrite, why are you being so possessive?” I yelled at you. “Because I fucking love you!” you screamed even louder. My eyes shot wide as the words left your mouth. I felt like I was about to faint. Like everything I’d known for the past two months had been wrong. I put my hand on my forehead and slowly sat down on the sofa. “Since when?” I asked warily. You sat down next to me, leaving a little space between us, not wanting to scare me away. “Since the day I met you.” you said more gently. I shook my head in confusion. All these months I’d been crushing on you, telling myself I was a fool for thinking you could ever feel the same. “Look, I should go.” you said standing up, I grabbed your arm quickly and pulled you to me. I kissed you with my eyes open, I didn’t believe it but my eyes couldn’t lie. You picked me up and put me in your lap. “We can’t do this.” I whispered into your neck. You grabbed me even tighter, not ready to let me go. “Tell me to stop,” you breathed kissing down my collarbone, your finger toying with the band of my panties, “just tell me to stop.” Your eyes searched mine for an answer. Your finger inching further, grazing down the lace in front. I moaned into your mouth, giving you the answer you needed. The one we both needed.

Virgo: My phone buzzed next to my laptop. It was almost midnight and my chemistry notes were making less sense than ever. “Hi baby.” I half sighed as I answered. “Where are you?” you asked. “On my bed, what’s up?” I could hear your breathing through the phone, “Nothing, just thinkin’ about you. ‘Bout us.” you said cheekily. I closed my eyes as that familiar lightness hit my stomach. “Oh really, what are we doing?” I teased. You half groaned on the other line, “Thinking about your skin, running my tongue up your spine, and swirling it around your-” Now I was the one who moaned. “Can you come pick me up?” I panted. You laughed, “Thought you’d never ask.”

Libra: It was my first birthday in the new city and I was feeling more homesick than ever. You knocked on my door and told me to get dressed while you poured two shots of tequila. You took me on an adventure, stumbling through a regal museum slightly tipsy. I was laughing at this modern piece, you asked why I didn’t get it, I said the shape was a bit funky. From behind you wrapped your arms around my waist, pressing yourself up against me, “I think it’s a quite stimulating.” you whispered with a sly grin, and my entire body shivered. Then you took me to dinner, your eyes staring into mine the whole time and I could hear my heart beating in my ears. It was like moving between worlds, reality changing from hour to hour. I don’t even remember what we talked about, only what I was feeling. We couldn’t even last until desert, our minds running away from us. As soon as I opened the door to my place your lips crashed onto mine, and for the first time that night I felt like I could breathe.

Scorpio: “Do you wanna wrestle?” I asked you with a wicked grin on my face. “I’m not gonna wrestle you.” You said not taking your eyes of the TV. I jumped on you and the Xbox controller went flying. “You asked for it.” You growled as you started fighting me back. I knew I had no chance, I just wanted to get you all fired up. Before I knew it I was on my back, hands pinned down above my head and your strong thighs straddling my torso. “Who’s the winner?” you demanded. “You’re the winner daddy.” I purred, reaching up and biting your lip. Your expression shifted, your eyes going from that watery blue to devilish dark in a split second, and I knew I was in for a ride.

Sagittarius: It was 3 a.m. I knew I had school in the morning but at this point I didn’t care. Cruising around the city in your parents BMW, the bass in the sound system making our blood vibrate. Like it hadn’t been already. We didn’t say anything, we couldn’t. We couldn’t afford to lose control. Then L$D by A$AP Rocky came on. My hands were shaking in my lap, your knuckles white from squeezing the steering wheel so hard. The engine purred as you drove faster, now with a purpose, pulling into the beach parking lot. The car came to an abrupt stop and I couldn’t take this any longer. You moved your seat back as I jumped over the console. You kissed me like you were drowning and I was air. All that tension finally snapping like firecrackers as the music pumped through our bodies. Your strong arms lifted me up and pushed my dress up my thighs, the windows fogging up. I could feel your biceps trembling under the palm of my hand, and thought how could something that felt so right be so wrong?

Capricorn: The whole day had had a weird, electrifying feel to it. Now I knew why. We were standing out there on the balcony, face to face in the middle of the crowd. “Kiss me.” you said nonchalantly. “You kiss me.” I incited. You took a long drag of the joint, gently pressing your lips to mine as you blew the smoke into my mouth. I just stared back at you, blowing the smoke out again calmly, your fingers still caressing the back of my neck. You almost smiled but stopped it midway by biting your lip. I grabbed your shirt and pulled you to me. I kissed you like it was the last time. You pulled back slightly to catch your breath, “Wanna get out of here?”

Aquarius: The night I first met you. I didn’t wanna go out but my friends convinced me. The bar was so packed but somehow I got to the front of the stage. There you were, and that cherry red guitar, in your own world. I remember I couldn’t take my eyes of your fingers when you played. I didn’t even notice you were looking at me until the song was over. You laughed and playfully tugged on your shirt. I didn’t get why but then I noticed we were both wearing the same Led Zeppelin shirt. When the show was over you found me so quickly I knew you had been watching me. “I feel like this was meant to be.” you said leaning up against the bar. I took you in, your knuckles had little cuts on them and your black jeans were splattered with green paint. “I’m not really in the mood to make friends tonight.” I said, taking a sip of my beer. You ran your hand teasingly through that dirty blonde DiCaprio hair, “How ‘bout we just stay strangers then?” I knew I’d already lost this fight. The next thing I remember is literally falling into your foyer, your lips on my neck as I moaned in your ear. You held me so tight, pulling my shirt up ever so slightly just to put your skin on mine. I pushed you down, taking my shirt all they way off while I straddled your hips, and you looked at me like I had just discovered fire. When it was all over you grabbed my face with both your hands, “What’s your name?” you breathed. I smirked as I put my clothes back on, “I thought we were gonna stay strangers.” I was halfway home when I realized that the shirt I was wearing wasn’t mine, it was yours.

Pisces: The record had finished all the way through. That needle scratch sound from the record player filled the silence in the room. I was in your arms, tangled in bedsheets and your sticky bodyparts. You grazing my back lightly with your fingers. “I need to pee.” I said trying untangle myself limb by limb. Your arms tightened around me, “No, you can’t go.” you pouted. I giggled and wiggled around in your embrace. “I have to pee, I’ll be quick.” You pressed your forehead against mine. “Promise?” you said softly. I pecked your lips three times. “I promise.”

exchanges (m)

Summary: In which Jeon Jungkook is that friendly neighborhood superhero, you’re the face in the hallway that saved his high school career, and he can’t ever seem to get a grip around you. Even when he makes you scream after a fated accident—not for the reason you may be thinking; get the thought out of your head! 
Pairing: Jungkook | Reader 
Genre: Fluff/Smut; Spiderman AU 
Word Count: 14,838
Author’s Note: Honestly though, it was only a matter of time before I got around to writing a story like this. I am obsessed with Spiderman, so this might just be the foundational guideline for many future Jungkook Spiderman AU drabbles to come in the future. 

The story was also heavily inspired by this photo that made me cry for seven days and seven nights. +photo credit !!!!!!!

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(the present)

If Jeon Jungkook is against anything in his life, it’s one’s ability to exaggerate certain situations or problems to make those things seem much bigger than they probably were. Well, actually, take that back. It’s not that he’s against it per say, it’s just that his peer’s daily struggles of pop quizzes and missing the morning bus aren’t exactly headliner news—especially in comparison to what he has to go through.

Jeon Jungkook is against exaggeration, probably because he can’t get away with it himself. It’s not that he doesn’t like to exchange his fair share of embellished stories or fabricated events weaved into true experiences, it’s that he can’t afford to do so. Sharing stories of his nightly routines and dashing superhero adventures may seem great, but only if he could manage the burden of a personal life and a masked life intertwining.

As an 18-year-old boy, he can probably say it’s safe to assume that he cannot. Manage the overwhelming, opposite pressure both of his lives take him, that is. It’s difficult enough being a college freshman, a tiny fish in an ocean of whales and sharks, but throw in his late night Spiderman facade would be too much of a tale to share with other people and peers who probably ask too many questions and know too much about him. He’s never liked the exposure that comes with being in the spotlight, and he can’t hide behind his mask if people knew who he was.

Oh. Right. Speaking of his Spiderman facade, that’s who is he. Haven’t heard of him? You know, the dashing hero of Seoul, red and blue spandex attire with a web shooter, fine tuned senses and amazingly quick reflexes? The boy who swings around the city, volunteering for trouble and always coming out right on top? The boy who constantly maintains that casual, slightly amused tone throughout a majority of his rescues?

Yeah, well, that’s Jungkook.

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Y’all I Think I Got Sonic Forces Figured Out

Okay so I know we are all over the moon about the trailers and game play videos that we have gotten these past few days, but I honestly think that we have been glaring over a pretty CRUCIAL detail from the classic sonic game play video 

Think about what we have heard from the Sega Officials, this is not a Sonic Generations sequel. But how can this be if classic sonic is in the game? How are Sonic’s past enemies here alive and ready to fight? How is it not akin to generations if classic Sonic is alive and here?

But what is he isn’t?

What if this classic sonic isn’t the one from generations at all? But instead, from another dimension? Now I suppose Dr. Eggman may just be referring ro another state of time, but I don’t think the connection stops there. For the most obvious question, how in the WORLD did Eggman take over the world without Sonic to stop him? Its the focus of the game but H O W? In colors, generations and lost world. sonic had made stabs at Eggman claiming “Its like its his job to stop him” because, well? It is. Eggman knows this. He knows it far too well. In generations he went back in time to try to right his wrongs, to redo his errors and end Sonic but time and time again it didn’t happen. So what if Dr.Eggman instead decided to look beyond his world, to another dimension, with another Eggman? But why stop there? Why not bring forth a dimension where Sonic failed? Not only that, but a universe where Chaos destroyed Station Square. A world where Metal Sonic won the race on Starlight Speedway. A world where Shadow never helped to defeat the bio-lizard. A world where the deadly six drained the world of its life? This would explain why Shadow has suddenly switched over to the dark side, why Metal Sonic is still functional, why Zavok is alive and why Chaos is in his earlier forms before he became perfect chaos. 

 Of course, like the Time Eater, Eggman wouldn’t be able to do this on his own, as we have seen with our new villain: 

Now as menacing as he appears, these cubes are so….out of place. It’s strange on why he has all these cubes, and why the trailer makes them look as dramatic as it can. Showing our new villain SURROUNDED by them and then ending the trailer with him hurling them at you. It’s odd. So what are they if the cubes are so important? Well to put it simply,

They’re different dimensions 

Whoever this guy is, he is in control of countless dimensions, more than enough to combine and design a whole new terrible reality. A whole new HORRIFIC dimension, where Sonic has failed, and Eggman reigns supreme. What is the name of this devious villain?

INFINITE 

As in..Infinite worlds?

The clues are right in front of us, and all we had to do was pay attention. The trailer certainly wants to get the point across

Now, I may be jumping the gun on this one, with my head of fan fiction type ideals, and perhaps this new villain will just be connected to whoever you create as your own character, (either it be an evil twin or something like that) but who would want to do this? Who would want to bring total destruction onto a world full of peaceful people? Who would want to see the world burn and fall apart right before their eyes because of their wrong doings? Who would want to see people of the resistance fail hopelessly, desperate to save their once beautiful world? Who would want to team up with Eggman to decimate the world? Who hates Sonic so much that he would want nothing more than to force him to watch as his legacy, friends,home,universe fall apart? WHO IS INFINITE? Well I may be wrong, but there’s only one person who can and will

From the timeline that was erased. From the universe you reversed in Sonic 06. From the world you fought so hard to save and redo, rewriting reality so you could get the happy ending. 

Now, its his turn 

On a side note, Sonic Team knows that sonic 06 was a disaster, and make reference to it in the Sonic story episode in Lego Dimensions. Pretty coincidental or foreshadowing? Some other things we can consider as well could be that in 2012 we first heard rumors of a Sonic game called “Sonic Dimensions” The rumor said that we would be traveling to other universes with different color Sonics that had their own personality. My personal favorite, is a promise of a boss fight of an evil Amy Rose, wishing for Sonic’s pain rather than love. Now the rumor as we know now is false and was debunked and this could very well be a coincidence. However, this rumor broke out in 2012, a year or so after Generations and 1 year before Lost world released in 2013. I think we can safely say that Lost world was at the very least in early stages of production during or sometime after Generations especially with its ambitious game play style. It would have taken more than 2 years to make, with the game play style and everything else. This means, Sonic Forces could had possibly be in the early stages of development a little before Lost World, playing on the idea of different universes.I think it’s also possible that Sonic Forces may had been delayed at some point because of Sonic Boom’s games and tv show, since its not being advertised at the 25th anniversary game. Also is a pleasant time to remember that this happened:

Due to Gravity Falls’s more dark story telling, I think its safe to assume that Alex had some kind of influence on Sonic Forces’s story. Either way, 

We are in for a long deserved fantastic Sonic Game my friends. 

Dead Fandoms, Part 3

Read Part One of Dead Fandoms here. 

Read Part Two of Dead Fandoms here. 

Before we continue, I want to add the usual caveat that I actually don’t want to be right about these fandoms being dead. I like enthusiasm and energy and it’s a shame to see it vanish.


Mists of Avalon

Remember that period of time of about 15 years, where absolutely everybody read this book and was obsessed with it? It could not have been bigger, and the fandom was Anne Rice huge, overlapping for several years with USENET and the early World Wide Web…but it’s since petered out. 

Mists of Avalon’s popularity may be due to the most excellent case of hitting a demographic sweet spot ever. The book was a feminist retelling of the Arthurian Mythos where Morgan Le Fay is the main character, a pagan from matriarchal goddess religions who is fighting against encroaching Christianity and patriarchal forms of society coming in with it. Also, it made Lancelot bisexual and his conflict is how torn he is about his attraction to both Arthur and Guinevere.

Remember, this novel came out in 1983 – talk about being ahead of your time! If it came out today, the reaction from a certain corner would be something like “it is with a heavy heart that I inform you that tumblr is at it again.”

Man, demographically speaking, that’s called “nailing it.” It used to be one of the favorite books of the kind of person who’s bookshelf is dominated by fantasy novels about outspoken, fiery-tongued redheaded women, who dream of someday moving to Scotland, who love Enya music and Kate Bush, who sell homemade needlepoint stuff on etsy, who consider their religious beliefs neo-pagan or wicca, and who have like 15 cats, three of which are named Isis, Hypatia, and Morrigan.

This type of person is still with us, so why did this novel fade in popularity? There’s actually a single hideous reason: after her death around 2001, facts came out that Marion Zimmer Bradley abused her daughters sexually. Even when she was alive, she was known for defending and enabling a known child abuser, her husband, Walter Breen. To say people see your work differently after something like this is an understatement – especially if your identity is built around being a progressive and feminist author.


Robotech

I try to break up my sections on dead fandoms into three parts: first, I explain the property, then explain why it found a devoted audience, and finally, I explain why that fan devotion and community went away. Well, in the case of Robotech, I can do all three with a single sentence: it was the first boy pilot/giant robot Japanimation series that shot for an older, teenage audience to be widely released in the West. Robotech found an audience when it was the only true anime to be widely available, and lost it when became just another import anime show. In the days of Crunchyroll, it’s really hard to explain what made Robotech so special, because it means describing a different world.

Try to imagine what it was like in 1986 for Japanime fans: there were barely any video imports, and if you wanted a series, you usually had to trade tapes at your local basement club (they were so precious they couldn’t even be sold, only traded). If you were lucky, you were given a script to translate what you were watching. Robotech though, was on every day, usually after school. You want an action figure? Well, you could buy a Robotech Valkyrie or a Minmei figure at your local corner FAO Schwartz. 

However, the very strategy that led to it getting syndicated is the very reason it was later vilified by the purists who emerged when anime became a widespread cultural force: strictly speaking, there actually is no show called “Robotech.” Since Japanese shows tend to be short run, say, 50-60 episodes, it fell well under the 80-100 episode mark needed for syndication in the US. The producer of Harmony Gold, Carl Macek, had a solution: he’d cut three unrelated but similar looking series together into one, called “Robotech.” The shows looked very similar, had similar love triangles, used similar tropes, and even had little references to each other, so the fit was natural. It led to Robotech becoming a weekday afternoon staple with a strong fandom who called themselves “Protoculture Addicts.” There were conventions entirely devoted to Robotech. The supposed shower scene where Minmei was bare-breasted was the barely whispered stuff of pervert legend in pre-internet days. And the tie in novels, written with the entirely western/Harmony Gold conception of the series and which continued the story, were actually surprisingly readable.

The final nail in the coffin of Robotech fandom was the rise of Sailor Moon, Toonami, Dragonball, and yes, Pokemon (like MC Hammer’s role in popularizing hip hop, Pokemon is often written out of its role in creating an audience for the next wave of cartoon imports out of insecurity). Anime popularity in the West can be defined as not a continuing unbroken chain like scifi book fandom is, but as an unrelated series of waves, like multiple ancient ruins buried on top of each other (Robotech was the vanguard of the third wave, as Anime historians reckon); Robotech’s wave was subsumed by the next, which had different priorities and different “core texts.” Pikachu did what the Zentraedi and Invid couldn’t do: they destroyed the SDF-1.


Legion of Super-Heroes

Legion of Superheroes was comic set in the distant future that combined superheroes with space opera, with a visual aesthetic that can best be described as “Star Trek: the Motion Picture, if it was set in a disco.” 

I’ve heard wrestling described as “a soap opera for men.” If that’s the case, then Legion of Super-Heroes was a soap opera for nerds. The book is about attractive 20-somethings who seem to hook up all the time. As a result, it had a large female fanbase, which, I cannot stress enough, is incredibly unusual for this era in comics history. And if you have female fans, you get a lot of shipping and slashfic, and lots of speculation over which of the boy characters in the series is gay. The fanon answer is Element Lad, because he wore magenta-pink and never had a girlfriend. (Can’t argue with bulletproof logic like that.) In other words, it was a 1970s-80s fandom that felt much more “modern” than the more right-brained, bloodless, often anal scifi fandoms that existed around the same time, where letters pages were just nitpicking science errors by model train and elevator enthusiasts.

Legion Headquarters seemed to be a rabbit fuck den built around a supercomputer and Danger Room. Cosmic Boy dressed like Tim Curry in Rocky Horror. There’s one member, Duo Damsel, who can turn into two people, a power that, in the words of Legion writer Jim Shooter, was “useful for weird sex…and not much else.”

LSH was popular because the fans were insanely horny. This is, beyond the shadow of a doubt, the thirstiest fandom of all time.  You might think I’m overselling this, but I really think that’s an under-analyzed part of how some kinds of fiction build a devoted fanbase.  

For example, a big reason for the success of Mass Effect is that everyone has a favorite girl or boy, and you have the option to romance them. Likewise, everyone who was a fan of Legion remembers having a crush. Sardonic Ultra Boy for some reason was a favorite among gay male nerds (aka the Robert Conrad Effect). Tall, blonde, amazonian telepath Saturn Girl, maybe the first female team leader in comics history, is for the guys with backbone who prefer Veronica over Betty. Shrinking Violet was a cute Audrey Hepburn type. And don’t forget Shadow Lass, who was a blue skinned alien babe with pointed ears and is heavily implied to have an accent (she was Aayla Secura before Aayla Secura was Aayla Secura). Light Lass was commonly believed to be “coded lesbian” because of a short haircut and her relationships with men didn’t work out. The point is, it’s one thing to read about the adventures of a superteam, and it implies a totally different level of mental and emotional involvement to read the adventures of your imaginary girlfriend/boyfriend.  

Now, I should point out that of all the fandoms I’ve examined here, LSH was maybe the smallest. Legion was never a top seller, but it was a favorite of the most devoted of fans who kept it alive all through the seventies and eighties with an energy and intensity disproportionate to their actual numbers. My gosh, were LSH fans devoted! Interlac and Legion Outpost were two Legion fanzines that are some of the most famous fanzines in comics history.

If nerd culture fandoms were drugs, Star Wars would be alcohol, Doctor Who would be weed, but Legion of Super-Heroes would be injecting heroin directly into your eyeballs. Maybe it is because the Legionnaires were nerdy, too: they played Dungeons and Dragons in their off time (an escape, no doubt, from their humdrum, mundane lives as galaxy-rescuing superheroes). There were sometimes call outs to Monty Python. Basically, the whole thing had a feel like the dorkily earnest skits or filk-singing at a con. Legion felt like it’s own fan series, guest starring Patton Oswalt and Felicia Day.

It helped that the boundary between fandom and professional was incredibly porous. For instance, pro-artist Dave Cockrum did covers for Legion fanzines. Former Legion APA members Todd and Mary Biernbaum got a chance to actually write Legion, where, with the gusto of former slashfic writers given the keys to canon, their major contribution was a subplot that explicitly made Element Lad gay. Mike Grell, a professional artist who got paid to work on the series, did vaguely porno-ish fan art. Again, it’s hard to tell where the pros started and the fandom ended; the inmates were running the asylum.

Mostly, Legion earned this devotion because it could reward it in a way no other comic could. Because Legion was not a wide market comic but was bought by a core audience, after a point, there were no self-contained one-and-done Legion stories. In fact, there weren’t even really arcs as we know it, which is why Legion always has problems getting reprinted in trade form. Legion was plotted like a daytime soap opera: there were always five different stories going on in every issue, and a comic involved cutting between them. Sure, like daytime soap operas, there’s never a beginning, just endless middles, so it was totally impossible for a newbie to jump on board…but soap operas know what they are doing: long term storytelling rewards a long term reader.

This brings me to today, where Legion is no longer being published by DC. There is no discussion about a movie or TV revival. This is amazing. Comics are a world where the tiniest nerd groups get pandered to: Micronauts, Weirdworld, Seeker 3000, and Rom have had revival series, for pete’s sake. It’s incredible there’s no discussion of a film or TV treatment, either; friggin Cyborg from New Teen Titans is getting a solo movie. 

Why did Legion stop being such a big deal? Where did the fandom that supported it dissolve to? One word: X-Men. Legion was incredibly ahead of its time. In the 60s and 70s, there were barely any “fan” comics, since superhero comics were like animation is today: mostly aimed at kids, with a minority of discerning adult/teen fans, and it was success among kids, not fans, that led to something being a top seller (hence, “fan favorites” in the 1970s, as surprising as it is to us today, often did not get a lot of work, like Don MacGregor or Barry Smith). But as newsstands started to push comics out, the fan audience started to get bigger and more important…everyone else started to catch up to the things that made Legion unique: most comics started to have attractive people who paired up into couples and/or love triangles, and featured extremely byzantine long term storytelling. If Legion of Super-Heroes is going to be remembered for anything, it’s for being the smaller scale “John the Baptist” to the phenomenon of X-Men, the ultimate “fan” comic.

The other thing that killed Legion, apart from Marvel’s Merry Mutants, that is, was the r-word: reboots. A reboot only works for some properties, but not others. You reboot something when you want to find something for a mass audience to respond to, like with Zorro, Batman, or Godzilla.

Legion, though, was not a comic for everybody, it was a fanboy/girl comic beloved by a niche who read it for continuing stories and minutiae (and to jack off, and in some cases, jill off). Rebooting a comic like that is a bad idea. You do not reboot something where the main way you engage with the property, the greatest strength, is the accumulated lore and history. Rebooting a property like that means losing the reason people like it, and unless it’s something with a wide audience, you only lose fans and won’t get anything in return for it. So for something like Legion (small fandom obsessed with long form plots and details, but unlike Trek, no name recognition) a reboot is the ultimate Achilles heel that shatters everything, a self-destruct button they kept hitting over and over and over until there was nothing at all left.


E. E. Smith’s Lensman Novels

The Lensman series is like Gil Evans’s jazz: it’s your grandparents’ favorite thing that you’ve never heard of. 

I mean, have you ever wondered exactly what scifi fandom talked about before the rise of the major core texts and cultural objects (Star Trek, Asimov, etc)? Well, it was this. Lensmen was the subject of fanfiction mailed in manilla envelopes during the 30s, 40s, and 50s (some of which are still around). If you’re from Boston, you might recognize that the two biggest and oldest scifi cons there going back to the 1940s, Boskone (Boscon, get it?) and Arisia, are references to the Lensman series. This series not only created space opera as we know it, but contributed two of the biggest visuals in scifi, the interstellar police drawn from different alien species, and space marines in power armor.

My favorite sign of how big this series was and how fans responded to it, was a great wedding held at Worldcon that duplicated Kimball Kinnison and Clarissa’s wedding on Klovia. This is adorable:

The basic story is pure good vs. evil: galactic civilization faces a crime and piracy wave of unprecedented proportions from technologically advanced pirates (the memory of Prohibition, where criminals had superior firearms and faster cars than the cops, was strong by the mid-1930s). A young officer, Kimball Kinnison (who speaks in a Stan Lee esque style of dialogue known as “mid-century American wiseass”), graduates the academy and is granted a Lens, an object from an ancient mystery civilization, who’s true purpose is unknown.

Lensman Kinnison discovers that the “crime wave” is actually a hostile invasion and assault by a totally alien culture that is based on hierarchy, intolerant of failure, and at the highest level, is ruled by horrifying nightmare things that breathe freezing poison gases. Along the way, he picks up allies, like van Buskirk, a variant human space marine from a heavy gravity planet who can do a standing jump of 20 feet in full space armor, Worsel, a telepathic dragon warrior scientist with the technical improvisation skills of MacGyver (who reads like the most sadistically minmaxed munchkinized RPG character of all time), and Nandreck, a psychologist from a Pluto-like planet of selfish cowards.

The scale of the conflict starts small, just skirmishes with pirates, but explodes to near apocalyptic dimensions. This series has space battles with millions of starships emerging from hyperspacial tubes to attack the ultragood Arisians, homeworld of the first intelligent race in the cosmos. By the end of the fourth book, there are mind battles where the reflected and parried mental beams leave hundreds of innocent bystanders dead. In the meantime we get evil Black Lensmen, the Hell Hole in Space, and superweapons like the Negasphere and the Sunbeam, where an entire solar system was turned into a vacuum tube.

It’s not hard to understand why Lensmen faded in importance. While the alien Lensmen had lively psychologies, Lensman Kimball Kinnison was not an interesting person, and that’s a problem when scifi starts to become more about characterization. The Lensman books, with their love of police and their sexism (it is an explicit plot point that the Lens is incompatible with female minds – in canon there are no female Lensmen) led to it being judged harshly by the New Wave writers of the 1960s, who viewed it all as borderline fascist military-scifi establishment hokum, and the reputation of the series never recovered from the spirit of that decade.


Prisoner of Zenda

Prisoner of Zenda is a novel about a roguish con-man who visits a postage-stamp, charmingly picturesque Central European kingdom with storybook castles, where he finds he looks just like the local king and is forced to pose as him in palace intrigues. It’s a swashbuckling story about mistaken identity, swordfighting, and intrigue, one part swashbuckler and one part dark political thriller.

The popularity of this book predates organized fandom as we know it, so I wonder if “fandom” is even the right word to use. All the same, it inspired fanatical dedication from readers. There was such a popular hunger for it that an entire library could be filled with nothing but rip-offs of Prisoner of Zenda. If you have a favorite writer who was active between 1900-1950, I guarantee he probably wrote at least one Prisoner of Zenda rip-off (which is nearly always the least-read book in his oeuvre). The only novel in the 20th Century that inspired more imitators was Sherlock Holmes. Robert Heinlein and Edmond “Planet Smasher” Hamilton wrote scifi updates of Prisoner of Zenda. Doctor Who lifted the plot wholesale for the Tom Baker era episode, “Androids of Tara,” Futurama did this exact plot too, and even Marvel Comics has its own copy of Ruritania, Doctor Doom’s Kingdom of Latveria. Even as late as the 1980s, every kids’ cartoon did a “Prisoner of Zenda” episode, one of the stock plots alongside “everyone gets hit by a shrink ray” and the Christmas Carol episode.

Prisoner of Zenda imitators were so numerous, that they even have their own Library of Congress sub-heading, of “Ruritanian Romance.” 

One major reason that Prisoner of Zenda fandom died off is that, between World War I and World War II, there was a brutal lack of sympathy for anything that seemed slightly German, and it seems the incredibly Central European Prisoner of Zenda was a casualty of this. Far and away, the largest immigrant group in the United States through the entire 19th Century were Germans, who were more numerous than Irish or Italians. There were entire cities in the Midwest that were two-thirds German-born or German-descent, who met in Biergartens and German community centers that now no longer exist.

Kurt Vonnegut wrote a lot about how the German-American world he grew up in vanished because of the prejudice of the World Wars, and that disappearance was so extensive that it was retroactive, like someone did a DC comic-style continuity reboot where it all never happened: Germans, despite being the largest immigrant group in US history, are left out of the immigrant story. The “Little Bohemias” and “Little Berlins” that were once everywhere no longer exist. There is no holiday dedicated to people of German ancestry in the US, the way the Irish have St. Patrick’s Day or Italians have Columbus Day (there is Von Steuben’s Day, dedicated to a general who fought with George Washington, but it’s a strictly Midwest thing most people outside the region have never heard of, like Sweetest Day). If you’re reading this and you’re an academic, and you’re not sure what to do your dissertation on, try writing about the German-American immigrant world of the 19th and 20th Centuries, because it’s a criminally under-researched topic.


A. Merritt

Pop quiz: who was the most popular and influential fantasy author during the 1930s and 40s? 

If you answered Tolkien or Robert E. Howard, you’re wrong - it was actually Abraham Merritt. He was the most popular writer of his age of the kind of fiction he did, and he’s since been mostly forgotten. Gary Gygax, creator of Dungeons and Dragons, has said that A. Merritt was his favorite fantasy and horror novelist.

Why did A. Merritt and his fandom go away, when at one point, he was THE fantasy author? Well, obviously one big answer was the 1960s counterculture, which brought different writers like Tolkien and Lovecraft to the forefront (by modern standards Lovecraft isn’t a fantasy author, but he was produced by the same early century genre-fluid effluvium that produced Merritt and the rest). The other answer is that A. Merritt was so totally a product of the weird occult speculation of his age that it’s hard to even imagine him clicking with audiences in other eras. His work is based on fringe weirdness that appealed to early 20th Century spiritualism and made sense at the time: reincarnation, racial memory, an obsession with lost race stories and the stone age, and weirdness like the 1920s belief that the Polar Arctic is the ancestral home of the Caucasian race. In other words, it’s impossible to explain Merritt without a ton of sentences that start with “well, people in the 1920s thought that…” That’s not a good sign when it comes to his universality. 


That’s it for now. Do you have any suggestions on a dead fandom, or do you keep one of these “dead” fandoms alive in your heart?

The Dragon Angus Theory

I don’t know how many people know about this particular TAZ Theory but I discovered it last night in the TAZ Subreddit. There are thread discussions about this here and here. There could be more but these were the two I found.

In summary, the theory in general pertains to the fact that Angus might not be all that he seems, and that he might be a dragon in disguise. Specifically a Silver Dragon. Under the cut because this came out really long! (Don’t worry there’s a tldr at the bottom)

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My First One Star Review on AirBnB

Story by shawk11/reddit

Buckle up boys and girls. My buddy and I just experienced some grade-A Creepyshit while on a trip to Red Rocks in Colorado. I write a lot of things down anyway and so I figured I might as well post the story here and see what you guys think.

So who here has used AirBnB? raises hand. I think I’ve used it no less than twenty times. All great experiences up until this point, seriously.

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anonymous asked:

so, um. if you have any particular feelings about labyrinth--specifically Sarah--uh, go wild.

WILD PEACHES  [AO3]

.

The morning after Sarah Williams defeats the Goblin King, she gets up and makes toast. She has to brush some glitter off the toaster—it withers and vanishes at the brush of her fingertips, and she stares at her hand for a long time. 

It mostly just looks like her hand. Even when she turns it over, and sees where she scraped her knuckles against the oubliette, where the shattered mirror cut the back of her wrist. It looks like she fell, or was playing in the street. That’s all.

The toast comes out burned, and Sarah stares at that too. Eventually, she slumps down against the cabinets and cries, wracking sobs that send her dad and Karen rushing into kitchen. They check her forehead for a fever, put their hands on her, and keep asking, “Are you okay? Sarah, please, tell us what’s wrong…”

Eventually, her dad drags her into his lap and cradles her against his chest, like he did when she was little. Her legs are too long to really fit anymore, but Sarah hugs him around the neck anyway. “It’ll be okay,” he says, keeps saying. “You’ll be okay.” And Sarah—doesn’t laugh, because she can’t, and doesn’t have the words to express what—how—

(None of her stories ever talked about this. What did Sir George do, the morning after he slayed the last dragon in England? Did Tam Lin eat breakfast, or did he sit there, shivering, wondering if his hands were different, having been claws and wings and scales?)

Afterwards, she leaves the burnt toast outside on the back porch. Not an offering. Maybe a reminder.

.

It’s Didymus she sees the most often, mostly because he’s the one who invites himself rather than waiting for an invitation. He comes for tea, but even if there’s no tea—which there isn’t, usually—he comes to tell Sarah stories. She learns to love poetry because there’s no escaping it with him. (She won’t read Idylls of the King until Brit Lit in college, but she ends up scrawling a lot in the margins; Didymus’ telling of events had been much more interesting.)

Once, she falls asleep like that, her hands tucked behind her head with Didymus curled up and sleepily reciting from the crook of her elbow. “So tender was her voice, so fair her face—though I don’t think he was looking at her face, my lady, pardon me for saying so—”

Sarah buries her nose in his fur. Didymus always smells of rosewater, and a crispness she thinks is just…the Labyrinth. She falls asleep trying to place it.

She wakes up with a wild fox in her bed, animal-black eyes frightened and flat, teeth bared. The fox is whining, and she’s tempted to throw herself across the room, to get away from this wild thing and its teeth. It takes a monumental will to keep herself still and her breathing slow, even; like she’s still asleep and unafraid. 

It takes her longer to swallow, and start humming one of the songs he taught her—a knight’s round, he’d said. She’s shaky at first, but the fox’s ears flick forward. It cocks its head, and slowly, the teeth disappear behind its lips. 

She almost laughs when noses at her throat curiously, butting its head against her jaw like a cat might.

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Mixtapes (Richie/Eddie)

Summary: Both Richie and Eddie are very fond of each other and often tease each other affectionately, especially Richie to Eddie. So Bill and Stan both play cupid, which results in swapping mixtapes for eachother.

Warning(s): Bad language, 13 year olds kissing (don’t read if you think its fucking weird?? bc its not), if you think this is me sexualising these cuties-don’t bother

Richie’s Mixtape to Eddie

Eddie’s Mixtape to Richie

A/N: Look at my children in love, PLEASE I highly recc listening to either of the mixtapes that are linked above^^? They are both very 70/80′s. btw I do requests? If anyone wants to hit me up an x reader or a ship in IT 2017 (or IT in general) I’ll be glad to do so?? don’t be shy

“Awe, Eds. Look at you.” Richie cooed teasingly, pinching Eddie’s slowly flushing cheek.

Eddie quickly began swatting at Richie’s hand, his eyebrows furrowed heavily and a frown on his lips, “Don’t touch me with your rotten hands, asshole!”

Richie ignored his protests and flinched away from his swats, moving his hand to now over his shoulders and pulling the smaller boys frame into his own side, a grin on his lips.  “You’re such a cutie, Eds.”

“No, No I’m fucking-”

“Both of you, shut up.” Stanley grumbles after rolling his eyes several times at the two.

Richie snapped his eyes at Stan, glaring through his coke bottle glasses, which only enhanced his eye size even more. He held Eddie closer, even with Eddie’s flushed cheeks he still squirmed lightly.

Stan sighs in relief and folds his arms as the group goes back to its usual discussion about the new random comic book of the week. Eddie couldn’t help but allow his heart to beat faster at Richie’s touch against his form, making him feel protected in his stronger grip. He couldn’t help but zone out as Richie begun to bicker that his comic book that he found was better than Stan’s.

Bill tilted his head, analysing Eddie as his eyes would flicker all over the place with his mouth gaping before closing every now and then and gulping. He knew that how he was acting wasn’t the norm for Eddie whenever Richie was like this, something was different. Not to mention that he had stopped struggling against Richie who wasn’t even holding Eddie tightly or forcing him in place.

Bill smiled a bit, as something clicked inside of his head- a plan. But he was going to need Stanley to help out.


That night, on the way home from their adventurous summer day- Bill was walking Eddie home as Stanley had taken Richie to a different route. Bill hummed a tune as he walked alongside his friend, grinning as he turned to look at him.

“So…”

Eddie looked at Bill, tilting his head, “So?”

“So, y-..you and Richie?”

“Yeah?” Eddie was confused, almost disgust in his voice- but Bill could see past the faux disgust.

“I saw how you were t-today, Eddie. Y-you were blushing.”

This again, only caused Eddie to heat up as his form became a flustered mess and he glared at Bill. “You would blush too if someone touched your arm!”

“N-no, I’d only b-blush if Bev touched my arm there.” Bill pointed out, “but in this instance, you blushed when Richie had his arm around you- as well when he pinched your cheek and called you a ‘cutie’, it’s quite obvious.”

Eddie snapped his head away, patting his fanny pack for reassurance for himself. “Whats your point?”

“My point? M=my point is that he’s flirting with you; y-you like him.”

“I don’t like him! And he isn’t flirting with me! He acts like that with everyone-”

Bill cuts Eddie off quickly, “E-Eddie, do you see him pinching any of our cheeks and calling us a ‘cutie’? He doesn’t put his arms a-around us or any of the shit he does for you, not to mention he calls you E-Eds and doesn’t have a nickname for any of us.”

“Okay Bill-”

“N-n..not to mention, he carries an extra i-inhaler around just incase you lose yours.”

Thats when Eddie’s breath hitches, feeling butterflies go crazy in his abdomen, adoration swirling and tugging at his heart strings. He could practically hear his heart in his ears loud and clear.

“He… he does?” Eddie whispers, his voice quivering a bit.

“Yeah, even though he knows that you don’t even need it anymore, because you know, gazebos and your Mom making your illness up and shit but- yeah.” Bill smiles, watching how the young boy was falling more and more in love.

Eddie then quickly holds his wrist, feeling his pulse; resulting his fingertips quivering from feelings how his heart was beating with happiness.

“Oh… I-I never knew that. He’s never told me…”

“That’s b-because you’ve never needed it, but he always has.”

Eddie bites his lip, “What a fucking, what- he’s a fucking dick.” Eddie protests, blushing bright as ever.

“Sure he is,” Bill chuckled, “But l-look, I wanna help you. I know when someone is in love when I see it.”

“How?” Eddie asked, neither denying his feelings or admitting.

“Well.. It i-involves music.”


Meanwhile, Stanley was grumbling to himself in annoyance and cursing Bill’s name for getting him into this situation with Richie Tozier. He didn’t want to do this, but Bill had promised to give him some candy as a reward if it goes well.

“So, Richie. I’m gonna make this quick as possible so I can just go home.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Richie asked with pure confusion, a single eyebrow furrowing and one raising.

“You like Eddie, Eddie likes you.” Stan started, his face full of boredom, “Can you just hurry up and tell him?”

Richie was shocked by his friend’s words at first, before smirking. “Hell yeah I like him, I tell him all the time.”

“I mean genuinely, you asshole.” Stan sighed, “Not as a joke or some shit, literally confess your fucking feelings to him or something.”

Richie rolls his eyes, not being fazed by the situation, “What makes you think I like him seriously? I’m not fucking gay-”

“It’s pretty fucking clear you like girls, after you telling us for the full day about the first time you ‘tickled your pickle’ to a random magazine that had huge boobs all over it. But you like guys too, there’s nothing wrong with that.” Stan spoke with a monotone voice, managing to not let any voice cracks slip.

Richie scoffed, “I don’t like him, he’s a friend and I like to tease him.”

“You tease him by calling him ‘cute’ and you give him a nickname, you don’t do it to anyone else. You like him, just admit it- no one is judging you.” 

Richie frowned, huffing a bit and rolling his eyes. “Well, what if I did? Whats your point and where are you going with this?”

Stan smirked, patting Richie’s back forcefully, causing him to stumble forward.

“What’s your taste in music like?”


The next day, both Richie and Eddie were walking to school together in perfect unison, both of them holding a tape in their pocket that held a variety of songs that the one had imagined for the other.

Richie gulped, for once actually nervous around Eddie. What would Eddie think of him? It was a fucking mixtape, it was Richie’s music taste. Would he even like it? Would he-

“Richie, here. I want you to have this.” Eddie cut off Richie’s thoughts, holding up a tape alike to Richie’s.

Richie blinked twice, stopping in his steps. The tape was all black and what seemed to be painted on with nail polish ‘Sucks to Suck’ on top of the tape. 

“I-it’s a mixtape.” Eddie mumbled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as he felt flustered.

Richie stayed silent, slowly taking the tape, analysing it with soft eyes before looking up with confusion. He turned over the  mix tape to see ‘to Richie’ painted with the same shade of white but in smaller writing.

“You made one too?” He spoke quietly, his head tilted to the side which caused his dark brown hair to tilt too.

“What?”

“Look…” Richie dug into his pocket and pulled out his own black tape which had a sticker on it, saying ‘Gimmie head til’ I’m dead!’ on it, with writing scribbled onto the back saying ‘to Eds’ with a cheeky smiley face, “I made one too, here.” He handed it over.

Eddie’s eyes widened, blushing a bit as he took it from the glasses wearing boy and read over it- mentally scoffing at the sticker but he was in awe of the idea that both of them had somehow made a mixtape for the other.

“You too?” Eddie whispered in shock.

“Well, yeah- but it wasn’t my idea.”

“It wasn’t mine either.” 

Richie quickly smirked, rolling his eyes, “They fucking set us up.”

“Who? Bill? Because it was Bill’s idea for me-” Eddie began to ramble on.

“It was Stan’s idea for me.”

Eddie then stopped, sighing with a grin- poking his tongue in his cheek. “Fuck, that makes sense.”

Both look at each other with grins slowly spreading over their chapped lips, soon the two boys were in a fit of giggles due to the realisation of the sweet situation. Both never taking eyes off one another, blushes spreading to their ears and down their necks.

“I, I guess I’ll listen to this tonight?” Richie’s voice broke, still calming down from his fit of giggles.

“Yeah, me too… I-i uh, I picked out the songs carefully and put them in order a certain way, so..” Eddie trailed off, becoming a little ashamed incase Richie would tease him for his effort.

But Richie only felt love swell inside of him at those words, he grabbed Eddie’s hand with his free one and leant forward, bending down slightly, whilst pressing their lips together for the first time. Eddie’s eyes widened in shock, before melting and wrapping his free arm around Richie’s neck with the mixtape in his firm grip. Both merged together in sync and harmony, with their lips swelling and becoming saturated in colour. Richie wrapped his other arm around Eddie’s waist and too held his mix tape tightly as they both kissed in the middle of the street, hand in hand, with no shame at all.


Eddie sat down at his desk, placing his headphones over his head, pressing play as quickly the flood of Richie vibes swirled into his eardrums. Finally, after many aching hours at school he had time to listen to this mixtape.

I don’t want to know your name

Cause’ you don’t look the same

The way you did before

Okay, you think you got a pretty face

But the rest of you is out of place

You looked alright before…

Eddie chuckled at the familiar song, it often played in arcades that the Losers club all went too. It went under the title ‘Fox on the Run’ and it was by ‘The Sweets’.

Fox on the run!

You scream and everybody comes a running!

Take a run and hide yourself away…

Foxy on the run!

F-foxy!

Fox on the run…

And hide away!

Eddie listened to every song intensely, capturing the vibe of Richie Tozier perfectly. He had even picked out songs that they both loved and favoured. Eddie really adored Richie’s music taste and everything about it, it perfectly described him as a person and he loved that.

Soon, the last song came on. By the instrumental, Eddie recognised it to be ‘Can’t Help Falling in Love With You’ by Elvis Presley. HIs heart hammered quickly.

Wise men say,

Only fools rush in

But I, cant help, falling in love with you…

Shall I stay?

Would it be a sin?

If I can’t help, falling in love with you…

Eddie’s breath hitched in his throat, feeling his pulse echo throughout his system. This was not part of Richie’s vibe at all, but part of Eddie’s. Eddie loved Elvis Presley whilst Richie wasn’t a big fan of him. 

But this song was magical and made for someone special, so Eddie was shocked and swooned. Very much so captivated.

Eddie Kaspbrak was falling in love with Richie Tozier.


Later that night, Richie laid down in bed with his cheap headphones, before plugging them into the mixtape and pressing the button to get the songs going.

The first song started; it was of course one of Richie’s favoured artists as well as Eddie’s. From what he knew, this was one of Eddie’s favourite songs from David Bowie, it was called Heroes and it was a truly beautiful song.

I, I will be king.

And you, you will be queen.

Though nothing, will drive them away

We can beat them, just for one day.

Oh we can be heroes!

Just for one day.

And you, you can be mean.

And I, I drink all the time.

Because we’re lovers, and that is a fact.

Yes we’re lovers, and that is that.

Though nothing, will keep us together

We could steal time, just for one day.

We could be heroes, forever and ever.

What’d you say?

Richie felt his heart pump faster and swell as the mixtape carried on, each song having Eddie’s vibe to it. But Richie could tell that they matched him in a way that made Eddie pick it for him to listen to. Everything was intentional.

After a good 50 minutes, the final song was starting to play. Yet Richie wasn’t prepared for what he was about to hear.

Hey Jude…

Don’t make it bad,

Take a sad song, then make it better.

Remember, to let her into your heart.

Then you can start to make it better.

Richie’s eyes widened as his thoughts wandered back to Eddie’s simple words. ‘I picked out the songs carefully and put them in order a certain way.’ This meant that Eddie had intentionally wanted Richie to hear this song last.

Hey Jude…

Don’t be afraid.

You were made to go out and get her.

The minute you let her under your skin

Then you begin to make it better.

Richie felt the tears prick at his waterline as this was the first time of him being emotional at a song. Eddie was the only person that knew about Richie’s home life, how he was neglected by his parents constantly and was alone. He knew that the reason why Richie was so loud and out there was because he didn’t receive the attention he deserved at home, so he wanted it from friends. He wanted to make people laugh, Eddie knew this.

Eddie’s key words lingered in his brain, as it stuck out to him that this single song revealed that Eddie’s whole mixtape was set up in a way to help Richie throughout dark times or whenever he felt alone, so he could remember that Eddie had cared enough to set up this mixtape in perfect order to make Richie stronger in that given moment.

And anytime you feel the pain,

Hey Jude, refrain

Don’t carry the world upon your shoulders.

For well you know that it’s a fool,

Who plays it cool

By making his world a little colder.

Richie’s tears finally fell, making him take his glasses off to refrain any of the tears staining the lenses. Eddie had purposely picked this song as if to say that Richie was in fact his Jude, he wanted Richie to get better and hopefully have a better mindset besides his life at home.

Nah, nah nah, nah nah, nah nah, nah nah…

His breaths shook, as he held the mixtape to his chest with the headphones still placed perfectly on his head. He was thankful to have someone like Eddie who would even bother to do this, as something as simple as this with so much thought put into it only made him fall in love with the small boy even more.

malec-go-to-hogwarts  asked:

hi cassie :) i've been a fan of the books since 2010 and it's been amazing to see how much they've grown in terms of popularity and audience. I would love to know whether you came up with the idea to write the eldest curses because of how popular Magnus became and the reaction to him or was the idea in your head from the beginning and you decided to finally write it :) also could i be cheeky and ask for a snippet from the lost book of the white preferably featuring Alec....

I was excited to write the story of Magnus and Alec Having An Adventure and Falling More In Love for a very long time, but my ability to do so was limited by the way publishing and distribution worked back in 2005, when I was initially trying to sell City of Bones. There was a lot more resistance to gay characters in YA at that time. A couple of publishers turned the book down because Alec, a gay character, was in it. The Barnes & Noble website page for City of Bones included a review from Commonsense Media where they gave it a content warning for “sexual content” just because of the presence of a gay character even though he never did anything sexual. A lot of big box stores refused to carry the book, and major children’s book clubs passed it over. 


I always hoped for systems to change. As the books grew more popular, and as times changed, I was able to include more of Magnus and Alec as the series went on. In fact, their presence in the story and on the page made a big jump starting in CoFA, at which point I received a surge of criticism from those who were upset that I was writing about Magnus and Alec more prominently. I remember having my books pulled from libraries; foreign translators cut scenes with Magnus and Alec in them; once I was standing in the middle of the street about to get into a car to take me to a school where I was going to do a talk about my books when my publicist came up and said we were no longer invited: the school had read about Magnus and Alec and they didn’t want me there. Or often, if I was at a school, I’d be asked not to talk about Magnus and Alec while speaking to the students.


I tried to walk a careful line, including Magnus and Alec (and later, Aline and Helen) as significant and meaningful characters, but still managing to keep schools, libraries, and reading groups from throwing the books out or locking them up where the kids who most needed to read them wouldn’t be able to access them at all.


I held onto the hope that attitudes would continue to shift, to allow for more freedom to write characters who accurately represent the population of the world we live in (and represent my own friends and family, on whom Alec and Helen specifically are based). Hope that I’d be able to expand roles for characters like Magnus and Alec, and over the past twelve years — partly as I’ve carved out my career in a way where I can take the sales hits that sometimes result from major LGBT+ inclusion, and partly because of so many brave writers, readers, editors and publishers who’ve pushed for change — I’ve been able to do so more and more. 


When I was writing CoFA, I purposefully left a gap where Magnus and Alec go on vacation, with the idea that someday I could go back and fill in that gap with a story focused on them. For a long time that wasn’t something that companies wanted to buy and publish. I could have self-published the series, but I wanted the books on the shelves in stores, on the “bestsellers” rack with every other book I’ve written, making a statement about how much people want this kind of book and these kind of characters. I chose to write the story now when I did because Simon and Schuster, my publisher, opened Saga Press, an imprint dedicated to expanding what you can do in YA and cross-publishing with adult fantasy/sci fi. It’s Saga that will be publishing The Eldest Curses.

I thought a lot about what to say here because of two things: one, that people don’t like to hear about pushback against writing non-straight characters — it’s depressing (it is), it seems distant, unreal, how can these old systems and thought processes still exist? We’ve had successful books with gay characters in them! We’re done, right? I guess all I can say is that I think there’s a value to illuminating the pushback because it underlines how important it is to keep supporting books with LGBT+ characters because we are not there yet; we’re not where those books are give the same budgets and marketing and push as books with straight casts, and it takes the support of readers and reviewers and bookstore and library buyers to get us there.

I’d also say that I know I’ll get criticism for saying I was careful in my portrayal of Magnus and Alec until I felt like I’d gotten to a place where even if the fact that they were in love, lived together, even had sex was shown or even just implied (as it is in CoFA) it wouldn’t mean the books were locked up in libraries and slapped with warning labels. I guess I can only say it’s hard to navigate a situation where you fear the very kids who need to read about Magnus and Alec won’t be able to. When you meet kids who say “This book saved my life” so many times, and you think “But what if you couldn’t get to it? What if your school wouldn’t carry it, or your library, or your Walmart, which in small towns is sometimes literally the only source of books?) I accept that criticism. We all face hard choices in life and we make complicated decisions we think are for the best, and being criticized for those decisions is part of living and learning.

I guess the only other thing I’d say is whatever shitty things were said to me over the years about Magnus and Alec, they pale in comparison to the shitty things said to writers like Malinda Lo and Scott Tracey who were writing their own lives and experiences in the form of LGB characters on the page — and as Malinda says, their pain at confronting homophobia/biphobia will always be more visceral and personal than mine.

If you go out and buy The Lost Book of the White of course I’ll be thrilled, and a lot of that will be because it’s a way to show publishers that this kind of media and these protagonists are wanted and desired by readers. But I’d be just as thrilled if you picked up any fantasy by an LGB+ writer with LBG+ characters in it. There’s a ton of wonderful stuff and I hope you’ll explore it.

“JUNHUI SENT A VIDEO” ੭ JUNHUI

Contains :  bestfriend!junhui, SMUT !  

Group : SEVENTEEN

Member : Jun/Wen Junhui

Words : + 2,8k

Summary : Junhui was a cocky guy, that was for sure, but you never thought that he was that cocky, as you glare at your phone screen, a shaky finger pressing on the imagine of his smooth torso, his hand wrapped around his cock.

Originally posted by indigyu

A/N : For all my babies suffering from the lack of seventeen smut, there you go ! + I’m writing this now instead of after my exams because I was revising and my friend sent me the video of Jun dancing to Who and yeah I couldn’t.
+ someone told me it was similar to other smuts and yes it is, I red other writings with the same plot so this smut is inspired by them


[11:06] you : jun, leave me alone

A sigh left your lips as you placed your phone beside you, trying to focus on the papers all over your desk. Fingertips rubbing your temples, you closed your eyes, trying to remember the things you were reading a few moments before. You hated it, you hated having to learn things by heart, just to recite everything like a robot in front of a teacher, as if it would prove that you were intelligent or something.

On top of that, your best friend was texting you non stop. You were already a pretty distracted person, but with him making your phone buzz every minute, it was even worst. He was a year above you, and didn’t have to pass any exams. His school year was over, and he was celebrating it tonight, in a party thrown by someone from his class.

But apparently, the party wasn’t that amazing, since it seemed like he wasn’t leaving his phone to go grind on some girl.

 [11:07] junhui : talk to meeeee :(
[11:07] you : omg jun why are you like this, leave me alone
[11:08] junhui : its boring without you :(

A laugh escaped your lips, he was probably at least a bit tipsy. See, Jun was your best friend, but you both had this thing were you acted like you hated each other. But when alcohol was running in his system, Jun was the first to spill his feelings, and it was always so rewarding to see his face the day after when you red him his drunk texts.

[11:08] you : you know i have my last test soon
[11:08] you : are you already drunk ? its not even midnight omg
[11:09] junhui : no shit i fucking know you have a test
[11:09] junhui : i cant believe you left me like that

You rolled your eyes at his text, before typing. Yeah, you could understand him. You two were ready to leave, because you were supposed to go with him, but you decided to stay at the last minute, quickly leaving your tight dress for your large pyjama shirt.
Jun had tried to convince you to go with him, after all, the test was only in a week, but you didn’t want to waste time partying while you could use this time to work.

[11:10] you : dont be like this, you know its an important test
[11:10] you : go dance or something, we’ll have all summer to party together
[11:11] junhui : i dont want to dance :( :( :(
[11:11] you : yOU’RE SO ANNOYING JUGNDHGU
[11:11] you : im gonna study byyye

For a moment, the boy stopped texting you, and you thought that maybe he was finally dancing and having some fun. Going back to your notes, you tried to memorize everything, repeating the important points to yourself.
A tired smile stretched your lips when you finally got everything right, moving to the next text. Rolling your eyes, you groaned, seeing how long the plan you had to memorize was, and how depressing the text was, talking about how Humans were damned no matter what.

You took a deep breath, sitting comfortably before starting reading every point, then, your phone buzzed again.

[11:25] junhui : hi
[11:26] junhui : answer me
[11:27] junhui : y/n
[11:27] junhui : :(
[11:28] junhui : i wont stop until you answer
[11:29] junhui : thats the worst party ive ever seen
[11:30] junhui : and i cant even leave because mingyu is the one driving
[11:30] junhui : plus im kind of drunk
[11:30] junhui : wow i cant believe you did this to me
[11:31] you : omg wen junhui ill kill you

You sighed, he wasn’t going to leave you alone, you had to navigate between answering him and revising, rolling your eyes, maybe going to the party was a better idea.

[11:31] junhui : i like when you call me by my full name thats hot
[11:31] you : wtf you have weird kinks
[11:32] junhui : wow cant believe my best friend is shaming me for my kinks !
[11:33] you : find mingyu, maybe he will drive you home
[11:33] junhui : nah i saw him going upstairs with some random girl
[11:34] you : gross
[11:34] junhui : i cant believe u did this to me
[11:35] you : omfg junhui how many times are you going to say that ?
[11:35] junhui : until you apologize ???
[11:36] you : fuck you this exam is more important than an obviously shitty party

You breathed, all your focus now on the coversation with your best friend. He would distract you anyway, and you wouldn’t be able to get any work done, so what was the point. Giving a last look at the pile of paper, you moved from your desk to your bed, trying to find a decently cold spot.

[11:37] junhui : ohmy god your test is in a fucking week
[11:38] you : fuck its just a party why are you getting mad about it ?
[11:38] junhui : because
[11:39] you : you’re a child
[11:39] junhui : whatever
[11:40] you : omg

You growned, dropping your phone on your side, your arm resting on your eyes. He didn’t respond, and it was for the best, when Jun was drunk, he could either be super whiny for nothing, or super angry for nothing, and you would rather stop talking to him for the night than have a conversation with an angry stubborn guy.

The summer night was growing hotter, your shirt starting to stick to your body. Tugging at it to let some air hit your skin, you thought for a moment that Jun finally gave up, maybe finding someone to drive him home.

[11:55] junhui : im in the bathroom
[11:57] you : k
[11:57] junhui : i have a boner
[11:58] you : dID I ASK

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, drunk Jun could be either way super whiny, super angry or super horny, yeah you forgot about that.
See, another thing in your friendship was how comfortable both of you were when it came to sex. Junhui was already super comfortable talking about it, and so, you grew more and more confident talking about it with him. That was one of the few things you were grateful for.

[11:59] you : go get some girl to grind on i’m studying

You lied, hoping and praying god that you couldn’t have to deal with a drunk and horny Junhui.
A few moments passed, and again, you thought that he was out of the bathroom dancing on some girl, because you knew that a lot of them were willing to do it. It wasn’t news that Junhui was pretty popular, his delicate features and sweet voice were enough for a lot of girls, but he also had amazing hands, and those thighs, god, the result of years of dancing.
In addition to all of this, the way his hips moved was sinful. You remember seeing him dancing to one the songs he made with his friends, his hips moving slowly, his hand resting on his thigh, so close to his crotch.

Yeah, these were one of these days where you asked yourself, how the fuck do I even contain myself. 

After moving his hips, you remember his eyes finding yours before he started body rolling, his shoulders broad, toned stomach moving.
And it wasn’t all, the choregraphy continued again until his hands made contact with the floor, supporting himself as he fucking grinded on the floor, powerful thrusts over the floor, and you cursed under your breath.

You couldn’t admit it to yourself, but you couldn’t stop thinking about how his body moved, and you blamed it on sexual frustration, yeah that was it.

But more and more, your breath strated inching everytime he got closer, or when his hands got too adventurous, because he also wasn’t helping it.
But soon, you convinced yourself that you couldn’t think about your best friend in such ways, it was weird. You were making it weird at least.

[00:05] junhui : sent a video

Your thoughts got cut by the sound of your phone, your hand grabbing it before tracing your password, and your fucking mind went blank.

Your eyes stayed glued to your screen, blinking a few times, before checking again the name of the contact, yeah that was Jun.
Your troath was dry, and you tried to swallow the built of saliva.

The thumbnail was enough to leave you breathless, and even more sweaty.

Fuck, what was that for ?

You unconsciously licked your lips, your eyes fixed on the image.

Jun’s was sitting in what looked like a bathroom, his black jeans tugged to the middle of his muscular thighs, his black shirt riding up, revealing a parcel of his skin. His hand was wrapped around his cock, tip already red, several rings hugging his fingers. You couldn’t see his face, the image cut to his sweaty neck, but you could understand that his head was thrown back.

You cursed under your breath, a shaky finger pressing on the message, the image filling your screen before starting.
And it started right away, the boy’s hand slowly pumping up and down, his thumb stopping to collect the drop of precum. Touching his sensitive head, you heard a hiss, your mouth falling agape, waiting for more, and it stopped.

Your eyes widen, still locked on the screen, before catching the small three dots on your phone.

[00:06] junhui : fuck, im so hard
[00:06] junhui : help me

You looked up from your screen, as if someone would suddently appear at the end of your bed to help you in this situation.
Your heart was pounding, what the fuck were you supposed to do ? He sent it like it was the most normal thing to do.

And fuck, you wanted to run away from your phone and hide, but on the other hand, your eyes were still glued to the small picture, your mind replaying the faint hiss.

[00:07] junhui : y/n
[00:08] you : you can’t send things like that omg
[00:08] junhui : omfg its okay youre my best friend
[00:08] junhui : just help me
[00:08] junhui : please

“Best friends”, was that a common thing to send nudes to your best friend ? You took a deep breath, before typing again, what the fuck were you getting yourself into.

[00:09] you : what the fuck do you want me to do
[00:09] you : you have a fucking boner its not my fault youre a horny fuck
[00:10] junhui : sent a vocal

You rolled your eyes, taking your headphones before playing the audio, and your heart sank. It started with a clear, deep moan, you could hear that he was trying to stay quiet, before muffling it, the sound of his hand moving in the background was faint, and he started talking. God, his voice was raspy, low, breathless, “What do you mean it’s not your fault ? I have a fucking boner because of you, fuck- That dress looked so good on you.”

Your breath grew uneven, catching your lip between your teeth. A breathy moan fell from his lips, probably picturing you in the dress you were wearing earlier, “And fuck- d-did you really have to start taking it off in front of me ?” You couldn’t help but smile as you remembered taking the straps off in front of him, letting him see a bit of your bra, but you couldn’t imagine that it had such and effect on him.

“God, please, send something, a picture, anything, I don’t care.”, he moaned, before ending the audio. You eyes widen, a picture ? Fuck, you wanted to continue whatever was going on, feeling the familiar discomfort between your legs but you really didn’t know how to take it.

Eventually, you moved your phone, stretching your arm above your head, opening the camera. Your moved to lay on your back, bending your knee up as your other hand tugged your shirt upwards, enough to show the right of your bra and your panties.

It was the exact same bra that Jun saw as you took your dress off earlier, the lacy black bra un panties hugging your body. You quickly took the picture, cutting it after your lips, your lower lip rosy after biting it, and you sent it.

[00:14] you : sent a picture

Biting your lip, you waited for his responce.

[00:15] junhui : fuck, you look so good
[00:16] junhui : sent a video

And this time, you didn’t hesitate to open the video, your breath stopping. Fuck, if he was touching himself while looking at a picture of you, you could to that too, right ? Your hand traveled down your stomach, letting your finger press on your clit, a gasp leaving your lips.
Keeping your eyes open, you watched as the video opened on your phone, Jun’s hand moving faster this time, and holy shit, he looked so big.
His tip was red, a groan coming from his chest as he moved the phone and,

“Oh my god.”, you cursed under your breath as you took your panties off, your digit spreading your wetness. You gasped as Jun moved the phone so you were able to fully see his hand pumping his cock and his face, and god, he look amazing.

His lower lip between his teeth, looking straight at his camera through the locks of his back hair. His mouth suddently fell open with a silent moan as his head fell backwards, letting you see his Adam’s Apple bobbing and the video ended.

Fuck, you were keeping those videos, for scientific reasons.

[00:18] junhui : are you touching yourself ?

Your finger started rubbing your clit, trying your best to reply, but you didn’t even know how, so you took another picture. Quickly opening the camera, you took another one in the same position, your hand clearly visible in the shot.

[00:18] you : sent a picture
[00:19] junhui : i knew it
[00:19] junhui : fuck, i wish you were here

And then, out of nowhere, your phone rang.

You didn’t hesitate long before you accepted the call, placing your phone on your pillow beside your head.

“Y/N.”, he breathed as your finger started to work faster.

“Jun.”, you wanted your voice to be as quiet as his, but it came out in a moan.

“Fuck, why did you have to stay home.”, he gasped, breathless.

“Why did you have to go to this party.”, you replied.

“Whatever, be fucking prepared when I come home.”, a broken moan fell from his lips as you cursed under your breath, your imagination running wild. You allowed a finger to enter your heat, your digit easily sliding in. You moaned, your other hand gripping your sheet.

“God, I couldn’t stop thinking about you in that dress.”, the sound of skin clapping grew quicker as he continued, “I wish I could feel your lips around me.”, he gasped, before continuing, “You’re going to let me fuck your mouth when I come home, won’t you ?”

You moaned, his words hitting your core, but he wasn’t having it, his cocky self coming back. “Words.”

You opened your mouth, breathing heavely before answering, “Yes.”

“Yeah.”, and he laughed out of pleasure, the sound ringing in your ears, adding another finger.

“I’ll make you feel so good.”, he purred, a long moan tumbling from his lips. “You’re touching yourself, right babygirl ? Fuck yourself with your fingers, curl them, imagine my fingers instand of yours.”, he rasped, clearly reaching his climax as he was finding it hard to talk.

And you did, curling your fingers and moving faster, picturing your best friend between your legs, your hips bucking against your hand.
Your moans grew higher, more and more frequent as you moved your hips.

“Are you gonna cum ?”, he asked, breathless, groaning as he tried to wait for you.

“Jun.”, you moaned, unable to give him an answer, feeling the knot in your stomach ready to explode.

“God, I can’t wait to be inside you.”, he cooed, a broken moan filling your ears. “Come for me.”

And that’s all you needed, moaned, your back arching, a clear layer of sweat near your collarbones. Collapsing, you tried to catch your breath, closing your eyes, trying to focus on what was going on on the other side.

A series of curse words mixed with your name tumbled from his lips, before he came on a long moan, gasping every now and then.

“Fuck, fuck.”, he cursed, trying to process everything, before letting a long sigh.

Both of you stayed silent for a moment, before Jun moved the phone, before speaking in a breathless voice.

“Wait for me, I’ll be here soon.”

OFF THE CUFF HOMESTUCK THOUGHTS #3: THE SELF PILE DOESN’T STOP FROM GETTING TALLER OR: THE PROBLEM OF DEAD MARIOS

DISCLAIMER

IMPORTANT THEORETICAL FRAMEWORK

[CHECK THE TAG FOR MORE THOUGHTS]

So, a long-ass time ago, Rose and Dave had a conversation like this:

TT: After you go, what do you think will happen to me?
TT: Will I just cease to exist?
TG: i dont know
TG: i mean your whole timeline will
TG: maybe
TT: Maybe?
TT: Is there a chance it’ll continue to exist, and I’ll just be here alone forever?
TT: I’m not sure which outcome is more unsettling.
TG: the thing with time travel is
TG: you cant overthink it
TG: just roll with it and see what happens
TG: and above all try not to do anything retarded
TT: What do you think I should do?
TG: try going to sleep
TG: our dream selves kind of operate outside the normal time continuum i think
TG: so if part of you from this timelines going to persist thats probably the way to make it happen
TT: Ok.
TG: and hey you might even be able to help your past dream self wake up sooner without all that fuss you went through
TT: I think the true purpose of this game is to see how many qualifiers we can get to precede the word “self” and still understand what we’re talking about.

This is the most important sentence in Homestuck.

I am dead serious.

Well, OK, I mean, it’s pretty important for understanding some major Homestuck themes and shit or something like that.

Also, I totally should have said: Pre-Retcon Doomed Timeline Non-Dreamself Rose but ultimately about to become Dreamself Rose who semi-merged with Pre-Retcon Alpha Timeline Rose and Doomed Timeline Dave aka Davesprite AKA future Davepetasprite^2 or as we all call them around the office, Davepeta, had that conversation.

Maybe you begin to see what I’m going to talk about here.

One of the major frustrations a lot of people had with the retcon was that the characters we ended up with at the end weren’t the ones we’d come to love and know throughout the story. Was it even worth it, to lose the characters we loved to the tyranny of Game Over? The victorious kids, with the exception of John and Roxy, were other people, with other histories, other goals, and other choices.

Allow me to submit that that may be the whole point.

SBURB is cruel. We’ve known that for a long time. It’s cruel not as Caliborn is cruel, but as the cosmos is cruel, as a supernova is cruel. It wants what it wants, and doesn’t care about how that intersects with the needs of humanity. It wants to make universes through a complex game-playing method, and drags hapless, vulnerable adolescents along for the ride. And most of the time it doesn’t even succeed, leaving its champions to rot in a doomed timeline or similar! Skaia’s victory is an amoral creation myth where individual human beings are just the carved pieces on the chessboard. (I mean, the other ones. Not the carapacians.)

Again, let’s consider the theme of VIDEO GAMES vs. REAL LIFE.

Homestuck, let’s be real, is basically some postmodern horror timey-wimey Jumanji. For a generation way more familiar with pixels than cute little tokens It’s easy for teenagers and in fact, basically everyone, to fantasize about escaping their life and slipping into some game world forever, where they get to do awesome things and be a heroic person.

Homestuck makes that literal. Congratulations, everything you ever knew is dead. You will never see it again, except your internet friends, who turn out also to be your family and other important people. I mean, from a distance, SBURB sounds like an awesome game, right? You figure out who you are and get to wear a cool costume displaying that identity. You get to make anything you want and enjoy this hyperflexible mythology tailored to YOUR CHOICES. HS fans talk all the time about how cool it would be to play a real version of SBURB. That’s a big part of the appeal of SBURB fan adventures. They put you and your friends in the story. Or your favorite characters! It sounds like a fantasy come true.

The thing is, as fantastical as it is, it’s also really fucked up, and ultimately you and your friends are being used. By a giant frog to let it have its babies. By the universe. By a smug blue cloud thing that doesn’t care about you at all.

SBURB does not care about you at all.

The funny thing, SBURB features a mythology with so many layers and nuances and seemingly human motifs about growth and self that you might search for some grand ultimate meaning behind it, but it’s not even human enough to have a personality, to be something you can argue with or fight. It just is. It’s all the cruelty and power of a god without any of the dazzling personality. It’s empty. It just wants to make universes all day long, or fail trying. It is a great, weird tadpole-making machine that eats children.

One of the big ways it doesn’t care about you is its attitude toward the self. Humans and trolls and whatnot prefer not to be relentlessly duplicated. SBURB says, oh yeah, let’s make tons of copies of the player characters and use them for a lot of different purposes.

There’s the dreamself, an essential bifurcation of identity (you are now and were always the dream moon princex) that sometimes gets merged into god tier but sometimes doesn’t. There’s doomed timeline selves, who exist ultimately to augment an Alpha timeline whose Alphaness is decided very arbitrarily and frequently by Lord English. There’s the you who exists before a scratched session and the you who exists afterward, who are two different people but started as one baby in an act of ectobaby meteor duplication, your player self and your guardian self. Dead timeline yous fill up the dreambubbles made by the horrorterrors and get endlessly confused with each other. Any one of these could be the you experience being at any given moment, and which one it is entirely arbitrary. Don’t like being Dead Nepeta #47? Tough hoofbeast leavings, kiddo.

To top it all off, in Terezi: Remember, we learn that every single time we thought someone changed from one self to another, was resurrected or something like that, it was another act of duplication. For every time someone’s died, there’s another version of them waiting in the Dream Bubbles, surprised that they’re not the main character anymore. And we have no way of knowing which is which. Even John, good old everyman John, may or may not be the person who died three or four times. It’s really impossible to say whether we’ve been following the same person throughout our story, or just the illusion of the same person, like a horrifying cosmic flipbook.

The retcon is a return to this same theme. Ultimately, there’s very little new in the changes John makes to reality except that they drive the point home.

John’s friends all died. John and his friends won the game. These things are both true at the same time, except those things may not have happened to the same people. There was a happy ending. Hooray! For, um, some folks who may or may not be the ones we care about. In fact, it’s very confusing, because from Rose’s perspective, Roxy is dead but came back to life, and from Roxy’s perspective Rose is dead but came back to life, except also she came back to life as a weird tentacle catgirl of pure id and self –indulgence. So there’s that. Um. Which Rose are we rooting for again?

Or wait: is it none of them, because the first Rose died in a doomed timeline, hundreds of panels and a number of years ago?

There’s a tension here which one experiences between saying it’s okay because it’s still the same people, and saying it’s not okay, because it’s not the same people at all. This tension is exactly what we’re meant to wrestle with. To put it another way, Homestuck asks if identity can work in aggregate. Are all Johns John, all Roses Rose, and do they all share in what they accomplish? Or are the final victors only accidents created by the whims and needs of the frog baby machine?

What I’m saying, basically, is that the retcon, in the sense that it pointed out our confused relationship with these characters, was already here.

In interviews and questions put to him over the years, Hussie constantly compares HS and SBURB to other video games, particularly Mario, which he frequently returns to as a baseline of comparison that most of his readers will know. One answer, from a recent Hiveswap interview, is particularly revelatory. To the question of “Why do you kill off all your characters?” Hussie replies:

[…]HS is supposedly a story that is also a game. In games, the characters die all the time. How many times did you let Mario fall in the pit before he saved the princess? Who weeps for these Marios. In games your characters die, but you keep trying and trying and rebooting and resetting until finally they make it. When you play a game this process is all very impersonal. Once you finally win, when all is said and done those deaths didn’t “count”, only the linear path of the final victorious version of the character is considered “real”. Mario never actually died, did he? Except the omniscient player knows better. HS seems to combine all the meaningless deaths of a trial-and-error game journey with the way death is treated dramatically in other media, where unlike our oblivious Mario, the characters are aware and afraid of the many deaths they must experience before finally winning the game.

The big man hass the answer.

Homestuck is the story of those dead Marios.

Other works, like Undertale, have engaged with this topic as well. But one of the major differences between Undertale and Homestuck is that in Undertale, between “lives,” one’s consciousness is preserved. In Homestuck, it’s discontinuous, and the value of the overall trial-error process is called into question by the fact that you, the player, may not even get to experience the victory. What meaning does victory hold if that is the case?

So, to put it in a nice thesis format:

One of the central themes of Homestuck is the challenge of reconciling an arbitrary and destructive pattern of growth and victory with the death and suffering you experienced along the way. Homestuck asks: is victory worthwhile if you’re not you anymore? And would you be able to know?

What even is the self? Is there such a thing?

If you were left feeling somewhat disconcerted by our heroes’ tidy victory and departure to their cosmic prize, or by how which Rose gets the spotlight is so deeply, deeply arbitrary, there’s a good reason for that. You’re supposed to be.

The philosophical problem of Wacky Cat Rose is insignificant next to the bullshit of SBURB.

And don’t forget—John and Roxy’s denizens helped them achieve the retcon. Ultimately, the victory they achieved was mediated by the same amoral system of SBURB, and was a victory over an enemy, Caliborn, whose power was created, perpetuated, and ended by that same system.

Okay, so here’s where it gets contentious. There’s an argument to be made, which I’m not sure how I feel about, that some of the character development that could have been in post-retcon Act 6 was left out precisely to push this feeling and play up this tension. Note that this is not the same thing as saying that they were deliberately badly written, but that they’re deliberately written to make us uneasy.That Hussie deliberately played with the balance between making these retconned characters feel familiar and making them feel eerily different to leave us feeling uneasy with the result.

I’m not sure I like that idea. It smacks a little too much of that “everything is perfect” thinking that comes sometimes from the far Metastuck camp. Some of the differences may also be the result of flawed writing. (See: Jane and Jake’s character arcs, which I might talk about later.) And I want to be able to critique those flaws. Ultimately, I think we still needed more time and development to figure out who these new people were—even if our goal was ultimately to compare them to their earlier selves. And again, more conscious acknowledgement of the problem from our heroes—especially John, the linchpin in this last and biggest act of duplication—might have helped drive this theme home.

Still, I think the Problem of Dead Marios is one of the most fundamental questions of Homestuck, maybe THE biggest question. It’s essential to understand it to understand what Hussie’s doing—or attempting to do— in the retcon and the ending.

I don’t know that Homestuck offers us a clear answer to that question. There are some confusions around the issue, too. Where do merged selves fit in, exactly? Clearly they’re a big part of the discussion, because Hussie spends some time in Act 6, especially near the end bringing the identity-merging powers of the Sprites to the forefront. (See also: the identity-merged nightmare that is Lord English.)  Can we even come up with a clear answer to what it means when a dead Mario returns to life grotesquely fused with Toad? How does he beat the game? Does he tell himself that the princess is in another castle? Or what if he merges with Peach? Are they their own princess? How do they know if they’re in the right castle?

Um. Anyway—

Interestingly, it’s not all grotesque—spritesplosions suggest that personalities that are too different don’t stay together long, so a fusion might rely on some inherent compatibility between the two players. Erisol’s self-loathing, sure, but also Fefeta’s cheerfulness. Davepeta seems to be a way of bringing out the best in their players, a way of getting Davesprite past his angst and Nepeta past her fear. Honestly, I know a lot of people don’t like Davepeta as the ending of these two characters’ arcs, but I can’t help but love it. They’re the ultimate coolkid. Cool enough to know they don’t have to be cool. Regular Dave got there, too, of course. But was his retcon assist from John ultimately any different?

Then, of course, we come to Davepeta’s speech to Jade in one of the last few updates before Collide. Davepeta suggests that there is such a thing as an ultimate self beyond the many different selves one piles up throughout the cosmos. A set of principles that describes who you are that’s larger than any individual instance of you. Your inherent Mariohood. (Maybe this is comparable to your Classpect identity, which attempts to describe who you are?) Davepeta even tells Jade, strikingly, that one might learn to see beyond the barriers between selves. Be the ur-self, in practice, rather than theory. This would be incredible news for Jade, who wrestles with the issue of different selves perhaps more than any other character. (There’s a lot to say about Jade.)

Honestly, I wish this ur-self idea had been developed more, and I honestly expected it to be. It doesn’t fully come to fruition, I feel. (Same goes for Davepeta’s character. Ohhhh, ZING!) I’m not sure it entirely makes philosophical sense, especially with fusion—I mean, doesn’t Davepeta themself disprove it? Or at least complicate it? Like, are they part of the ur-Dave or the ur-Nepeta? They seem to imply they’re BOTH? Does that even work? Does that mean that Marieach is all the Peaches and Marios at once?

(In fact, Bowser/Peach/Mario are but the three manifestations of one eternal principle. Also, Bowser/Peach are the true power couple. Read my fanfiction plz.)

And what, say, of Dirk, who ultimately ends up rejecting aspects of his other selves? It feels like there’s a lot more you could say here, and I wonder if Hussie would have said more, if he’d had time. What’s weird is, none of our victorious kids never reach an ur-self (though to their descendants, they become archetypal to some degree), which one might have expected. They’re just individual selves who happened to get lucky. Does that make them representative of the whole? It feels like something’s missing here, or like something got dropped at the last minute.

Same goes for the idea of the Ultimate Riddle. You’d be forgiven for missing it, but there’s been this riddle in the background lore of SBURB that seems to have something to do with personal agency in this overwhelming, overarching system. Karkat called it predestination, saying something like “ANY HOPE YOU HAD OF DOING THINGS OTHERWISE WAS JUST A RUSE.” But others have interpreted it more positively. My favorite interpretation, from bladekindeyewear: the answer to the Riddle is that YOU shape the timeline through your existence, personality, and choices, even when it looks like it’s all predestination. Ultimately it’s your predestination, your set of events, based deeply on your nature, that you are creating. Someone like Caliborn can use his innate personality to achieve power; someone like John might be able to use it to achieve freedom.

I definitely expected something like that to be expressed more explicitly. Like, a big ah-ha moment that helps John or Jade or whoever understand how to escape Caliborn’s system. Something like that would have been very helpful for a lot of our heroes, actually, who’ve been pushed around by Skaia and SBURB together, in finding a cathartic ending.  Once again, I wonder if something was dropped or rushed because there wasn’t time to put it all in. There’s places where you can see hints of that Answer being implied, maybe? But it’s kind of ambiguous.

You can see how the Answer to the Ultimate Riddle ties into some of Davepeta’s ideas. If your personality, the rules of your behavior are a fundamental archetype that goes beyond each individual self, then the answer to whether it matters if one self of yours makes it through to victory is an emphatic YES. You are all of those people, and by winning one round with Skaia, you’ve won the whole game, despite all the arbitrary challenges and deaths it heaps upon you along the way.

This may strike some as too positive for Skaia’s brutality, or again, some way of excusing flaws in many characters’ arcs, or unfair things that happen to them. To be fair, I don’t know that Davepeta’s necessarily meant to be taken as authoritative or the voice of Hussie. They may simply be offering a purrspective.

Hussie not choosing to come right out and engage with the Ultimate Riddle leaves the question of Dead Marios and what they mean for the victorious versions of our cast very open. I like that in some ways—let the reader decide—but I can’t help but wish we had more to work with in making that decision. Plus, it might have brought the thematic messages of Homestuck all the way home to tie them more closely to our characters and their experiences—character development being one of the things most people found most lacking in the ending.

NEXT TIME: All that wacky gnostic stuff probably

abs and algebra - peter parker

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Summary: Prompt List- #20. “Arguing with you is always at the top of my list.”

Y/N never thought that the fitness room would make such a great study place. Peter never thought working out instead of homework was such a good excuse.

Requested: yes

Warning: language, slight teen angst, lol teen hormones

Word Count: 2339

Here’s another Peter one! I did a slight angst one bc I never really do those so here ya go! Lol hope you all enjoy!

Tagged List: @sigh-whoami @imsecretlyromanburki

MASTERLIST

_____________________________________________________________________

Why does he act like he knows absolutely everything? Why is always wearing that stupid blue sweater? Didn’t he know that it was a like eighty degrees outside? And why is he staring a hole through you right now, with his lips turned up like that, god that annoyed you so much. Oh god, and why are you blushing, uneasy mess right now? Snap the fuck out of it!

You quickly snapped your intense yet annoyed gaze at Peter and focused back on your homework. You still felt the burning feeling of his eyes on you as you continued to finish your Algebra homework. Why wasn’t he doing his homework? Great question, he should be finishing his homework. This was yet another one of the millions of qualities you didn’t care for about Peter Parker. It wasn’t that you hated him per se it was just, he acts like- well he thinks- okay fine. You really, really didn’t like him.

It was just almost everything about him ticked you off in such a way it made your eyes roll into the back of your head every time something cocky rolled off his tongue, or when he proved how much he could actually lift in the gym room, and when he acted as if he was the biggest superhero to roam the streets since Tony Stark.

He wasn’t.

I mean, neither were you. Sure, you couldn’t catch a bus with your bare hands. Or hang upside down from walls like a complete idiot, but you still had powers too. Yours weren’t trapping people in webbing, but they were pretty powerful. But, that’s besides the point. The point was, Peter Parker would find his way around a fucking mountain just to piss you off.

You didn’t to say it was personal, but it was. At school, he was a completely different person. His usual loud, rowdy, and arrogant persona you saw almost every day at the base was flipped into a shy, quiet, and polite teenage boy around his schoolmates and teachers. His superhero tactics and attitude must of paved the way for his ego to grow immensely around you outside of school. You didn’t even speak to him in Algebra class, it was as if you two didn’t know each other. He was low on the social radar at school, but you, you were even lower.

That didn’t bother you, knowing that as long as Peter kept your secret from everyone, you would keep his. But, this whole “teammate guidelines” book wasn’t even established beyond the boundaries of missions. Around the base, he would do anything to piss you off, and he knew it. He knew how angry you would get when he yanked your glasses of playfully as you worked vigorously on your homework. Or, when you would have to go on missions with him, he acted as if you were there to observe and he was sent to complete the job.

This was one thing you never grew tired of, and you attempted to tell Tony, but then decided against it, due to the fact Tony would just believe it was the two teens on the team who wanted to start drama.

So, you tried to keep your fiery comments back to Peter very slim, but that was on a good day.

Today was not one of those days.

Your mind had been attempting to focus its full attention on your Algebra homework for the past hour, but everywhere you traveled to try and get some peace and quiet, something disrupted you. So, you decided to land your final destination in the Fitness Room, somewhere you never went (lol). You typed in the pass code on the pad next to the door and walked in, the sound of absolute silence hitting your eardrums instantly. The sound was music to yours in a way as the silence settled you down and kept you calm.

Finally. There’s no arguing Tony and Steve, no loud Bucky and Sam, and then best of all, no bickering, egotistical Peter.

You sighed heavily in victory before making way to the only table in the Fitness Room. Sitting down at the white table, you pulled out your Algebra book and spiral, turning directly to the page you had stopped on when you heard Thor yell from behind you, “Neither of you are worthy!”.

You place your hands in your tangled locks, slipping on your glasses before looking down at the book to continue your studying in hopefully, silence.

Okay, if the four is squared then there’s no way this could work. The problem has to be undefined, I just don’t understand how-

You obviously spoke way too soon. Your thinking was stopped midway of the problem once your ears perked at the sound of the door swinging open and the footsteps of the last person you would want in there with you at the moment.

“Hey! Y/N! What are you doing studying in here?”

The voice that made your head ache and your veins pop out of your arms rang through your ears in a loud, uneasy echo throughout the seemingly vacant room.

Your Y/E/C eyes shut themselves tightly, fists matching them as you reached up to yank your glasses off your head and slam them down on your book in annoyance. Turning around to lock gazes with the prick behind you, you feel the peak of your complete and utter luck drop to the bottom of the line.

“This was the only quiet place in the entire building,” your pink lips open in a scowl as you made sure to emphasize the ‘was’ in your statement.

Peter’s brown eyes rolled into the back of his head as he tossed his towel across the room, landing on a weight bench. His shoulders shrugged in a careless manner, “Well, now it isn’t.”

A deep groan emitted from the bottom of your throat at his comment. Why can’t you just do one thing? One thing, Without Peter worming his ass into it. Whatever, you’ll just ignore him for the time being. You could do that, right? Of course you could.

Another sigh emits from you before you turn back around and attempt to focus on the problem that’s been eating your energy our for minutes. Slipping your glasses back on, you pick up your pencil and begin to work the problem form the beginning, seeing if you could start over and maybe, finally solve it.

As you began to write the four transitioning from the other side of the equation, your brain realized that wouldn’t work and mentally erased the idea from your mind. Minutes passed, and after five tries, your mind starts to get antsy and annoyed with the erase marks and X’s scattered all across your paper.

“I just don’t understand why you can’t subtract it from the-but wait. Then you would have to add, but no. That doesn’t make any sense either…” you muttered yourself, grumbling as you trailed off your incorrect thought and filed it with the others. You bit your chapped lip and tugged on it as your eyes lifted from the book to wander around the room in thought.

Your eyes shifted from towards the left corner of your eye and your intense, diligent gaze shifted from cloudy numbers scattered around your brain to a site that you hate to admit it, made your mind wander from math to an entirely new adventure. As you thought your eyes would meet a vacant workout bench, they instead met a very sweaty and very shirtless Peter Parker lifting weights before you.

What even was, Math?

Your thoughts vanished of immediate hatred every time your eyes met his figure. This time, your mouth went from ‘opened wide to scream something cursing at the boy in front of you’ to ‘close your damn mouth, Y/N, drool is starting to form at the boy in front of you’. His slightly tanned bare chest glistened with sweat dripping down to this stomach area. Obviously, Peter had yanked off the fully covered sweater that adorned his apparently, toned ass body underneath. You silently and guiltily prayed to the gods for the sight before you.

You continued to stare heavily at the sweaty, ripped boy lifting weights before you. Your eyes then trailed up to his bulging biceps, flexing every time the weight would come up above his sweaty head of hair. You felt your breath become heavy and your chest rise up in nervousness each time his body flexed in a new and fucking incredible way.  Your eyes then made way to Peter’s hair, he usual slicked back hair was ruffled in curls, due to the fact the wetness made his true hair type become evident.

Okay fine, you knew Peter was very, very attractive. But this? This was something you definitely didn’t need in your life. This was going to make everything ten times harder in an argument with the ripped boy next to you. Why god, why? But at the same time, thank you god, thank you.

“Are you done?”

The sound of Peter’s raspy and slightly high voice range through your ears, snapping you out of your guilty Peter stare down. You veins pumped with nerves and your eyes greeted Peter’s right brown orbs in an entire new kind of look. The clouded anticipation of Peter’s body was no longer evident in your eyes, it was now the usual annoyed glaze over your orbs. Your brain wracked for something smart to say back, knowing you’d been caught.

God, he is never going to let you live this down.

“What are you talking about?” you faked reality and acted as if he was the crazy one. You narrow your lids in seemingly displeasure and throw your pencil down, which had almost broken due to your fist squeezing it into oblivion.

Peter then jumped down from the slightly high step that supported numerous types of workout equipment. His wet towel was grasped in his right hand as he walked to right next to you, bare body leaning against the pole, “You’ve been checking me out for the past three minutes,” he interjected, arms folded across his chest cockily.

Your heart was beating quickly at his sudden confession, the truth obviously being told. You attempted to think of something fast before your major contemplative actions became too obvious. So, you thought of the most clever response you could come up with on a whim.

“Ew, no I haven’t.”

Wow, Y/N. That was genuinely so clever, you dumb ass.

“Uh, yeah you were,” he pushed back, leaning himself of the pole and inching closer to you.

“NO, I haven’t.”

“Yes, you have.”

“Nope.”

“Yes!”

“NO!”

“YES!”

“Peter it’s called thinking!” you sassed back, now standing up as aggravation swept your entire demeanor. Your own arms folded over your chest in a heated daze as your eyes never took themselves off Peter’s.

“Really, 'cause the last time I checked, biting your lip and staring at someone’s chest isn’t called thinking.”

Your body was so close to Peter’s you could feel the hot breath roll off his lips and hot your face as he fired back another comment. The body proximity of you two was nearly close to passing the 'too close’ line, but you didn’t care. You weren’t about to let Peter have this hanging over your head for the rest of your life. No matter how fucking good he looked sweaty and shirtless, you had to win.

Your eyes searched Peter’s in an intent stare as you popped out a question that had been lingering in the back of your mind for months, “Why do you always want to argue with me?”

You watched as Peter’s pink lips turned up into a playful smirk before stepping across that proximity into dangerous territory. Your pulse quickened at your state, your body instantly responding to a glorious hot and sweaty boy standing so close to you. Your cheeks flushed as the thoughts of this ran through your brain. Your teenage hormones didn’t give a shit whether it was Peter Parker or not standing this close to you in this state, they just knew how to play you.

Peter’s lips inched closer to yours, and the closer they got, the farther your brain got from the feeling of dislike and annoyance with the boy in front of you.

“Because, arguing with you is always at the top of my list,” he daringly whispered against your lips, the breath from his comment hitting your mouth slyly. Your eyes bounced from Peter’s bright brown eyes down to those egotistical lips numerous times before you had no idea what the hell you were doing. Your hormones were in drive.

The next thing you knew, your hand wrapped itself around Peter’s neck and yanked him forward to meet your mouth in a hot, fiery, and searing kiss. The word hatred meant nothing to you as his slightly chapped lips pushed themselves back onto yours and his arms wrapped around your frame. One hand was placed on the back of his neck and the other reached down and ran up and down his glorious abs. You felt him moan slightly at your soft touch and pulled you even closer to him, if that was a possibility. Your body ignited with sparks at his touch, and your knees shook as his tongue attempted to slide itself past your lips.

With no sense of manner or care in the world, you allowed him to and your body almost fainted at the feeling. You could tell it was getting hot and heavy a little too soon, so you shut your lips back together and took your hand off the back of his neck and sighed against his lips.

Peter took this as a signal and kissed you one last time softly before pulling away. Both your bodies breathed heavily near each other in need for instant air. Your eyes met in a warm daze and you reached up in delight to faintly touch your lips.

Faces burning with sudden realizations and passion, you drew apart and for the first time, smiled genuinely at the other.

accidentally?

Based on this prompt I said I’d fill a few days ago:

boss: “know why I called you in here?”
me: “because I accidentally sent you a dick pic”
boss: “accidentally?”

yup.

(on ao3)

“You need to stop pining after people you haven’t even spoken to,” Lydia says one day, probably because Derek—er, Mr. Hale, their boss—has just stepped through the front door of the cafe where they’re having lunch, and Stiles has trailed off mid-word to watch him walk up to the counter. In Stiles’ defense, he’s never seen Mr. Hale outside of the office before, let alone Mr. Hale wearing a leather jacket over his dress shirt. God, and Stiles thought the tailored suits were bad enough…

Anyway.

“Uh, I have too spoken to him,” Stiles says indignantly, tearing his eyes away from Derek’s broad back across the room. “One day I was coming out of the break room and I almost walked right into him and he said, ‘Excuse me,’ so then I said, ‘Oops,’ and he smiled at me. Kind of. A little bit. I mean, I interpreted it as a smile. There was some prolonged eye contact.”

Lydia abruptly stops stirring her fat-free latte to stare at him—one of those Oh god, it’s worse than I thought kind of looks. “That’s it?”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

I don't know why, but for some reason I've always had the head canon that a little bit after petals to the metal Taako got sick. Mostly because their so freaking high up and it was turning to winter. How long do you think it would take for Magnus to notice all his sweaters are occupied by a shivering elf?

(There was a cold going around the base at that point so yes this is a quality headcanon, good work!)

It takes two passes through the main living room of the new apartment for Magnus to notice the pile of sweaters heaped on the couch. It takes a third pass before he realizes that at least one of those sweaters is his.

Upon closer inspection, all of the sweaters are his.

He figures he must have left one of his boxes in Merle or Taako’s room when they moved over here and this was their way of giving him his stuff back, but when he peels a sweater off the top of the stack to fold, a single elf ear pokes out. The rest of Taako’s head follows soon after, looking annoyed and flushed. “What the fuck, my dude,” Taako rasps.

Magnus stares while Taako’s head lists ever-so-slowly to one side. “You feeling okay, Taako?”

“I’m fine, fuck you.”

Taako is not fine. By that night his fever has gotten worryingly high and Merle and Magnus have replaced the sweaters with blankets. He hasn’t moved from the couch. Neither of them know how to take care of a sick elf, and Taako isn’t helping, choosing instead to ignore them as much as possible and bury himself under the blankets instead of answering questions or taking medicine. He makes some kind of annoyed, whining sound every time they try to talk to him.

It’s not until late that night while Magnus is absently carving a duck in the living room (too nervous to go to bed in case Taako needs anything) that he catches Taako watching him.

It’s a hazy stare, obviously unfocused, so the fever hasn’t broken yet. He’s watching Magnus’s hands move. “Wha’s that?” He almost sounds drunk.

“Carving a duck.” Magnus holds up the duck for emphasis. Taako’s gaze lifts a little and his eyes slide over the duck.

“Where’s Lup?” Taako’s voice is small and it sounds strange; Magnus isn’t used to Taako being anything but loud, ridiculous, and dramatic. His voice now sounds… more real, somehow, and Magnus is about to stand up and go looking before it registers that he doesn’t know who Taako wants.

“Who’s Lup?”

Taako thinks about that for a moment. “Not sure.” He glances around the room. His expression doesn’t change, but his ears droop a little. “Oh, right, she left.”

“She did?” But Taako is already burying himself in the blankets again.

The next morning, Taako’s fever has broken and when Magnus asks about their conversation, Taako laughs. “I don’t even remember saying that - must have been one hell of a dream. But hey, if you find a ‘Lup’ somewhere let me know, maybe she owes me some money or something.”

Magnus laughs, and promises that he will. He doesn’t know why, but something about the exchange feels wrong.