look at the way he looks down and to the right

My latest physician is a little hunchbacked man who I am dragging down into the abyssof pessimism. He sees me as an ’interesting case of depression.’ He says he is a psychologist and wants to help me in that way. He keeps me for an hour and a half every time. We sit there fencing with words and keeping a watchful eye on one another. One day when I was very tired, I said, ‘Everything is futile. 'Yes, that’s true,’ he said. But then he realized that was not the right way to treat a 'depression’, so he gave me a piercing look and said one had to look at life with a sense of humour.

Imagine Michael finding a old iPod and having the owner come back for it.

Michael is in the bathroom at a party, but he looks around and finds an old 2nd generation iPod touch. He scrolls threw all the music and wonders who it belong to. It not only has music he’s never heard of but some of his favorite songs. The screen has a small chip at the corner and he giggles thinking about how the owner must be a bit clumsy.
A knock at the door came, but it wasn’t like the others. It was softer. As if they didn’t want to disturb him. He opened it slowly. The person looked down at his hands. “That’s mines.” They said looking up.
The light Hitting their eyes in just the right way. Michaels face lit up in a blush as he silently handed the iPod over with a nod.
“Thank you.” They smiled and began to walk away and closing the door behind themselves. Michael sat down on the toilet seat.
“I’ve just seen the most beautiful person.” He collected his thoughts.
“I think I’m in love!” He says running his hands in his hair.
He stood in excitement. “I need to find them!” He said running out the bathroom.

If you have a lucid dream, do not commit any acts of violence against the things you meet

by reddit user professionalsuccubus

I had my first lucid dream at age nine.

I was in a decrepit neighborhood – rotting porches, peeling paint, Spanish moss hanging off dormers, the works. Mist swirled around my ankles as I walked slowly through the streets. Like an old video game, the horizon was both unchanging and unreachable.

I wandered around, in and out of the cobwebby houses. Although the streets were empty, the houses usually had a few ghosts floating around. There were a few children, but they were mostly old people, in various stages of decay. They never hurt me, nor did they speak. They just floated. Sometimes they’d follow me, but I never felt threatened.

Keep reading

“make the princess speak and you will have the crown of kings.”

my knees hurt, as usual, from scrubbing. technically i’m too high of Maid Station to help out with these things, but i like seeing what happens when you clean. the development of things. how a lot of effort can make something. i like learning and trying and working hard to get towards something.

and i’ve seen them, from the back of pillars, from behind cracked doors, from beside her (on the best days) the way they talk to her. oh beautiful won’t you just look at me. oh darling. if you speak i’ll be your prince. if you speak i’ll be your king. 

the princess, i know, finds the lines of suitors boring. it’s in the way her hands are always moving. she hides yawns, leaves early, we make her apologies. once, a man comes and tries to startle her into screaming. she rolls her eyes and looks directly at me. i have to hide my smile behind my sleeve. he is taken away while still screaming.

by accident, i find her once, crying. when we imagine princesses, they always cry daintily. hers is hoarse, angry, and something in it breaks me. in my station i should apologize and bow and leave. instead i am frozen, watching her shoulders heaving.

she looks up and spots me, her cheeks ruddy. i know i should go but instead i make a big show. i act as one of her princes. i make grand gestures and speak in deep voices. i frantically offer her handkerchiefs and trip over my own two feet. a smile crawls up over her, slowly. i dab my sweat away and offer her the used rag. i feign a fluster, turn a terrible cartwheel, make shadow puppets. the sound of her laugh, raw and rusty, sends shivers through me.

for a while, i do not see her after this. but then i am called to her chambers. she is crying again. i offer silly gifts, pebbles and dusting rags and a candlestick from her own kitchen, pretend to steal it, use it as a hat, rock it as a babe. she laughs more easily this time, gladly, and when she laughs i am taken by more important maids, thereby officially Excused.

it goes like this for months. the winter comes. i rarely see her. i spend my week thinking about ways to please her. i knick interesting cookies, show her shiny buttons, learn to cartwheel in a full skirt, and then promptly how to make it look foolish again. i learn how to juggle hot bread and dance as a man would, i learn how to balance on a ball and how to fall down without hurting myself, how to fake a fight with my own body, which colors she likes and which don’t please her.

i show up on a cold eve with a knotted line of scarves hidden down my sleeve, worried and breathless, wondering why she’s been crying. the door opens and she is sitting there, happy. at first i’m confused, but she waves me in. next to her is her small dessert, in two containers. i’m not sure how to respond, so i fake a fall to hear her laugh, and then sit at her feet. she gives me ice cream - so rare a treat. i know what went into making it - the hours of shaking. it’s smooth and tasty. i don’t feign my reaction, but she laughs anyway, kindly. 

it goes like this. i see her more frequently. she likes giving me new things, watching me discover i hate kiwi and love oranges and would die if it made her laugh breathlessly. i’ve made her keel over with cackling and she’s put a fire in me. sometimes we just sit there, quietly, enjoying each other’s company. 

it’s in her hands, always moving. little things i thought were just her, fidgeting. here’s how she says she’s thirsty, this is what her hands do when she needs a second to think, here’s how she shows she’s happy. this is how i learn to speak back to her. around her i spend much of my time smiling. i feel every visit is a gift. a new part to unravel. i find out she doesn’t respond to spoken things, that she needs to be looking in order to know you were speaking. sometimes she has me talk and she holds her hands to the base of my throat, her eyes wide and wondering. sometimes she just looks at me and i forget that i’m her jester in chief. i get caught up in her eyes, in how expressive they are when she’s happy, in how when she’s sad i feel like i’m drowning.

i never see the king or queen, but i know when she’s had a visit with them, because she never comes back happy. two winters i have known her, two winters and now we dine frequently. i am often called to stand beside her, to whisper translations of her desires into the ears of someone more important than i, someone who gets to be the voice of royalty. i can’t decide if i’m her friend or her plaything, but i don’t know i care much of the distinction. every moment i’m near her is a moment free of friction. i take stock of suitors and curtsy to them in daylight only to mock them in the candle’s eye later.

she asks me one night to stay. it has been a bad day. it’s completely not okay. i cannot say no but i cannot, by my station, stay. but she begs with her eyes and her hands and i know i’ll take the punishment. 

we lie beside each other. i make sure to turn to her when i speak. in the dark she can’t see me, so i move my hands in the way i’m learning. she asks if i am ever lonely. i cannot tell her that i am always lonely without her beside me, so instead i say i think all people are very lonely and just are pretending. she laughs a little at that and says she thinks her parents are the two most lonely people that ever met. her mother was like her; broke a fairy curse and talked, just once, although nobody knows what she said. well, excepting her father, who was the only one around, and who won her hand in marriage.

from her mother she learned the art of hands, of speaking without words - from her father she learned that who she was included a curse. that she just wanted someone who would make her open like a rose - someone who could fix her. how she stared out into the royal garden and wished on flowers to be what her kingdom needs.

she fell asleep pressed against me. i couldn’t breathe. i was still awake in the morning. 

the punishment never came. we spent nights like this. the handmaidens had grown to know me. whenever their princess was stubborn, i worked magic and made her lovely.

it was a terrible thing. i did too good a job, i think. the princess glowed too much or shone too brightly - or at least, i saw it that way, so who knows what the truth is. every day it felt like we were being rushed with princes. 

her father’s temper at hosting failed. it was the day before her twenty-first birthday and first time i’d ever seen him. he stormed in at the end of the session. “just speak!” he said, “it’s not that hard! do for others what your mother did!” 

“tomorrow is your last day of this,” he warned her, “either you pick a prince or i pick for you. i’m done with it.”

he stormed off. she was left shellshocked and trembling. that night she didn’t ask me to come, but i waited outside, just in case she changed her mind. i understood why she needed space. either she’d speak and be married tomorrow or she’d be married shortly. i heard her crying and it took everything in my power not to rush in and hold her, cradle her gently. but i cannot come into a room of a royal person without being invited. i stayed there, tears in my own eyes, thinking of treason.

the next day was a huge festival. what had been a birthday celebration was turned into a day about princes. i watched her shake her head. i tried to cheer her up. i tried everything. i frequently came inches from causing public humiliation, toed the line of mocking and failing to acknowledge my station. she wouldn’t smile. not once. not even for anything.

the day was long. the bonfire wore down. i watched her crumple into herself. i was out of ideas. i knelt at her feet. her eyes barely looked at me. just wait, i said to her with my hands, i’ll be right back. i took off running.

the price of stealing is losing my hands. these things that i spoke to her with. these things that mattered so much to me, that helped with my comedy and cleaning. 

i didn’t think of them. i bloodied my fingers when i ripped the royal roses from their stems. and then i ran, as fast as i could, back to her feet. i picked them to show you, i said, as she gasped, looking at my treason, they’re beautiful and nobody told them to open to reveal their secrets to the bees. they are unbroken. as you are. as you always will be. 

she fell off her throne and for a second i was beyond speaking, worried something had happened, or she’d fainted, or i’d said the wrong thing. but then she was on her knees, her arms around me, and i heard it. i heard the soft croak of her speaking. just one word, and it sent shivers down me. my name, in her voice, awkward and unwieldy, but full of love and passion, burning fire through me.

i felt a hand on my shoulder. i was pulled away from her. they already had me in handcuffs while i struggled to get back to her, to tell her i loved her, to beg her to run off with me or maybe just hold me around her, maybe just have her for a moment, because i couldn’t live without her for a moment longer.

they put me in the cells. i rotted in there, for a while or for no time at all, i’m not sure. the thorns scarred my palms. i watched the scabs build up and flake off. every time someone came down, i flinched, wondering if i would be the next to be taken and chopped into bits.

but one day the light was different. not the smoky torch of the jailer, instead a bright light in a lantern. at first when i saw her, my breath caught in my throat, mistaking her for my princess.

but she was my queen. at first we stood in silence. and slowly, i moved my hands to speak. is she married? is what came out, even though i should be more worried about me myself and me.

she is not. she bit her father on the arm when he tried to make her. then she fought him. and then ran away. it took us a bit to find her, i’m afraid. she threatened her own life and the life of everyone in this place. the queen was smiling. i was told there was a young woman who could make the princess speak, whom she would die to save, who brought roses to her feet. someone in a cell, rotting. are you her?

the memory of her voice rang through me. i’m she.

yes, her hands said, for even now, aren’t you speaking to the silent Queen?

she opened the door. come, she said, let’s get you cleaned up for the ceremony.

the crown of kings. when she wraps her arms around my neck and laughs next to me, i am royalty. when she smiles or makes a joke or asks to see my cartwheel again, i’m lost in her. i kiss her whenever i can, which is often. we have roses in a vase at the base of our bed, and for all of the kingdom, i’d give my hands if it would keep her laughing.

the next time she spoke was just once, at our wedding, where she said the two words i do to bind us for eternity. she had learned from me, from holding her hands over my voicebox, the way i learned from her how to use hands to speak. sometimes at night she says my name, just because she likes what it does to me.

i’m more blessed than a king. every day i spend with her is a day i spend happily. 

Joseph Christiansen Secret/Cult Ending Manuscript

I went digging through the Level 18 gibberish and sorted out all the dialogue into a manageable manuscript if anyone is interested in reading this secret wild ride. None of the dialogue is labeled so I did my best to interpret who was saying what so any mistakes are my bad. It took a few hours to put together but I felt like some people would like more than just a summary so here is the full text:

MC will be short for Main Character or your player.

** edit 07/26/17: minor text fixes, better formatting, the insertion of more images (courtesy of purpledragon42) , and insert of a working readmore **

Level 18- Joseph Bad Ending or True Ending ( Who knows? )

This appears to take place after MC and Joseph Christiansen engage in sex in the yacht, except you don’t wake up to what you expect. This takes place in Cult_Dungeon1.

(Photo Credits: Game Grumps)

START: You’re A Monster

MC:

Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaawn. What time is it? Must have been asleep for ages. I wonder what will happen now that Mary is gone? What about Joseph’s kids? And how will Amanda feel about all this? That’s what matters… . Well, we all have each other. I guess time will tell, right? Better get up and greet the day.

Am I tied up?! What the hell?! How did I get here? What’s going on?! Joseph? Anybody?

You’re probably just dreaming. Why would there be a… Don’t panic… . a dungeon. An evil dungeon. Why would there be an evil dungeon here? This can’t be real. Maybe I had too much Twilight Rouge. I’m dreaming, or something.

???:

Oh, I guarantee this is real.

Keep reading

The day after the battle, Hermione Granger got up before the sun did. The Lake was covered in fog, and she was used to having somewhere urgent to go, to be, to fight. 

She closed the tent flap up behind her. Hogwarts had something like enough beds, but Hermione hadn’t had it in her to climb those moving staircases, to step through the painting’s open frame and make her way to the Gryffindor girls’ seventh year dormitory. Her bed would have been there, months untouched except for the bras and scarves and bottles of sparkly purple nail polish Parvati and Lavender had strewn onto every open surface. 

The fog rolled in off the Lake and Hermione stood at the damp shore and shivered until the sun rose and burned it all away. 


-


The day after the battle, they buried their dead out on an island in the Lake, the day after the battle. Madame Pomfrey fretted and hovered, but every injured witch, wizard, and squib made it out to those conjured chairs. They might sit with assistance– with spells, with braces, with a friend’s shoulder– but they sat quiet and they listened to Flitwick read out the names. 


-


The day after the battle, Ron Weasley stood on tiptoe when he stepped back into the Great Hall, looking over a sea of bent heads to find a cluster of red. They’d brought the tables back. 

The cluster was only a tiny blip of three– Bill and their parents were flitting about, helping Flitwick float steaming bowls of pasta down onto each table. But Ginny and Percy were sitting on either side of George, keeping up a lively conversation about Gilderoy Lockhart’s hair. 

Ginny was sitting half in Harry’s lap, like if she didn’t he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from getting up to help, or to pace the castle, or to walk out to the Forest and not come back. She was holding his hand, her freckled thumb running over the words written into his skin. 

Ron thought about sitting with Luna, instead. Percy tried to laugh at one of Ginny’s jokes, and Ron didn’t know how to be kind like that. Ginny held Harry’s hand. Ron had thought for a long terrible stretch of heartbeats that he had lost two brothers yesterday. 

He could sit with Dean. He could walk out to the Forest and punch Aragog in his ugly eyes, because normally when he walked away from everyone he loved it was because he was scared and maybe change was good for the soul. 

Ron pushed his hands through his hair. He crossed the Great Hall, swung into a seat next to Harry, and filled his plate with lukewarm pasta. 


-


The day after the battle, Luna Lovegood climbed up to the Astronomy Tower, because it was the furthest she could get away from everything. She laid on her back on the cold stone and cast balls of light and enchanted birds to chase each other across the ceiling until she felt like descending down to the ground again. 


-


The day after the battle, Neville Longbottom went down to the greenhouses to see what the damage was there. He had sat all night and all morning in the infirmary, fetching water for Anthony Goldstein and holding Dennis Creevey’s hand and folding extra blankets down over Professor Sprout’s cold feet. Madame Pomfrey had banished him to go get a spot to eat and some sleep, so he walked down to the greenhouses to see what was salvageable. 

Whole panes of greenish glass stood jagged and shattered. Protective spells had put out any fires, but stray blasts of magic had killed beds of vegetables and flowers and taken almost all the silver-green leaves off an olive tree that twisted in the corner of Greenhouse 4. 

Neville went in through the door, even though there as a broken hole in the glass wall big enough for him, and almost fell back through it when Hannah Abbott stood up from the row of pots she’d been crouching behind. Dirt streaked every crease of her hands. “Hey,” he said, and let the door click shut behind him. 

“Hey.” When she saw where he was heading, she added, “The olive’s still alive.”

The bark was rough under his hand, gnarled from decades of slow growth. He could hear the green magic whispering down its xylem. 

“I was thinking I’d try to mend up the walls, close this place up again,” said Hannah. “But I wasn’t sure I could do it alone." 

"Alright,” said Neville. When Professor Sprout argued her way out of the infirmary and thumped downhill with the wind throwing her cloudy hair in her face, she found every pane of glass healed and Neville and Hannah asleep on the softest patch of moss in Greenhouse 2.  


-


The day after the battle, Parvati Patil sent an owl to Lavender Brown’s parents. 


-


The day after the end of it all, Hermione skipped lunch and found her favorite secluded corner of the library instead. The chairs stood silent and sober, all gouged dark wood. The high windows threw light gleaming across the polished table, catching on the dust motes drifting through the air above it. 

She dumped her carry-all down on it and reached inside– up to her elbows, her shoulders. She tried not to feel like it was eating her alive and she pulled out protein bars and unicorn horn and crumpled wanted flyers. 

She wasn’t sure when it had gotten so cluttered– sometime before the night in the ditch outside the little Scottish village with the awesome curry shop. Sometime after the time they hid out from a storm in an unknowing Muggle’s barn, wrinkling their noses at the itch of hay as they ate their dinner. Hermione had taken first watch, listening to the thunder roll over the shallow hills outside, and she’d gone through her bag pouch by endless pouch. Harry had twitched in his sleep with every flash of lightning, but everything in her bag had been where it was supposed to be. 

She summoned a wastepaper bin to hover beside her and got to work. Quills and ballpoint pens went in a neat heap to her left. Books she stacked by subject matter around her, except for the ones she flew back to their homes on Hogwarts shelves. She checked potions ingredients for decay, tossed the bad ones and wrapped the good ones back up in their oiled cloth and ziplock bags. 

She ate a protein bar while she piled duct tape and the radio and a travel-sized magnetic foldable Muggle chess set and a depleted first aid kit all up around her. She threw the wrapper away and wondered if the smell would ever come out of the bag’s insides, or if she should just buy another one.  


-


The day after the battle, they started putting the stones of the castle back into place. They put bones back together, first, skin and knit muscle and tendons. McGonagall escorted every statue and suit of armor back to where it belonged. 

Sue Li sat atop a pile of rubble and ate the biggest chocolate bar she’d ever seen her life. She thought she could still taste a film of Polyjuice on her tongue, but she told herself that was dumb. She dropped little pebbles down the ragged tumble of stones, counting their bounces and calculating averages, until Astoria Greengrass showed up with a glass of water and a pasty and put them down beside her. 

Astoria got her hands dirty every chance she got, put her back into sweeping up glass shards or hauling bandages or Wingardium Leviosa-ing stone blocks the size of a horseless carriage. She would stay in the castle as long as she could, finding odd tasks and errands and corners to lurk in. When she finally went back to the Greengrass family estate, it would be to pack her bags, kiss the old house elf on the cheek, and steal her dog away with her. 


-


The day after the battle, Ron went out to Hagrid’s cabin in the stubborn chill of the afternoon and sat in his pumpkin patch. He didn’t go knock on the rough-hewn door, and Hagrid didn’t come out, but after twenty minutes Fang trotted into the yard and patiently got slobber all over his shirt. 

Ron watched the sway of the shadows beyond the Forest’s edge. Buckbeak’s old tying post stood among the twining squash vines and their giant fuzzy leaves, the metal ring hanging empty against weathered wood. He thought about Ginny brushing her thumb over Harry’s scars and wrapped 
his hands over the pale marks that curled around his wrists. 

When the air started biting and the sky started darkening, Ron pulled himself back to his feet and climbed up to the library. He had never lived there, never really liked its labyrinth of stacks and dusty air, but he knew the way there better than he knew the way to the Quidditch pitch or the Room of Requirement or all those other places he liked so much more. 

It was empty, except for Hermione, and he was glad. She squeezed her last book into her bag and looked up at him, shoving her hair back off her forehead. 

“They doing dinner down there?” she said, her dry throat rasping on it. 

He shrugged. “Mum’s organizing, I think. It– helps, I think." 

She nodded, looking down to do the clasps up slowly, one by one. 

"I just wanted to go back to the tent,” said Ron. “Be alone. It’s quiet." 

"I won’t get in your way,” she said. “It’s still pitched down there." 

"I know,” he said. “With you, I meant.”

“That’s not alone,” she said. “I’m not quiet,” she said. She clasped and unclasped the bag. 

“Words. Accuracy. I never claimed to be the clever one." 

"But you are, Ron–" 

"Hermione,” he said. “Come with me? You shouldn’t be sitting here alone. Come home.”

They went down the grass through chilling air. Ron could hear his mother in his head, telling him to take her bag and carry it for her, but he just reached out for her hand. 


-


The day after the end of it all, Ron laid on the floor of the tent, counting stitches in the canvas, while Hermione read Hogwarts, A History like she didn’t have it memorized. She read her favorite parts aloud, stopping mid-sentence when the tent flap rustled and opened. 

“Ginny’s sitting on Neville until he agrees to sleep in a real bed and not a pile of shrubbery,” Harry said, stepping inside and shutting it up behind him. “She got Luna to help because she says otherwise Luna will just fade into a corner and not come out for food.” He hunched his shoulders. “I’m not intruding, right?" 

"Don’t be daft,” said Ron and patted a bit of floor next to him. “C'mon, join in, Hermione’s trying to bore me to sleep. I suspect it’s an act of caring concern.” Hermione threw a pillow at his head without looking up from the pages.  

The day after the battle, they fell asleep in a tangle in the center of the tent that they had lugged across their country, across these long, cold days of the war. They had danced here to the radio, had chewed protein bars, played chess and bled and yelled at each other. 

But the war was over and they were growing into it, slow, staying up too late as they leaned into each other and whispered on this threadbare rug. They meant to wobble to their feet and get to bed, but Harry was clinging to Hermione’s hand and none of them wanted to go. 

They would get too old for this– hard floors and the way Harry’s neck was cricked up on Ron’s bony shoulder. Hermione’s snoring would get worse and Ron would have to sleep with four carefully arranged pillows to stop his back from aching in the mornings, but Harry would always have a place here. He had slept on Ron’s bedroom floor at fourteen, leaned on Hermione outside his parents’ broken home. 

In the weeks after the battle, Hermione would track down her parents and move back home, and they would all help the Weasleys rebuild the Burrow. Harry would move in Andromeda Tonks’s spare room. “We’re almost like family, after all,” she’d say briskly, shooing him into the house and showing him where she kept the tea, Teddy’s diapers, and the whiskey. They’d come for visits and talk through the night in each of those homes, curled up under Molly’s quilts or out on the Granger’s back porch swing or over fingers of firewhiskey with Andromeda. 

In the months after the war, he and Ron would get a flat while they went through Auror training and Hermione would crash there five nights out of seven. Her university textbooks would take over their countertops, shelves, tables, and floor and Harry wouldn’t tease them (too much) for how hilariously long they tried to pretend it was the couch Hermione slept on. 

Every home Ron and Hermione lived in, for the rest of their lives, would have a place for Harry– a spare room or a patch of floor or an old sofa. He would know how Hermione took her coffee, and his favorite cereal and Ginny’s favorite oatmeal would always been in the cupboard, and their children would have giggly cousin-sleepovers in magical tents they pitched on the living room rug. 

When the kids came shrieking in to wake them at absolutely unacceptable, ugly hours, Ginny would groan curse words they’d repeat gleefully among themselves, but Harry would let them grab his hands in their little sticky ones and pull him barefoot and messy-haired out into the morning.

10

Truly among the most surreal of experiences was checking out the JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure the Real 4D attraction at Universal Studios Japan! I posted a recap about it on Twitter (albeit while very delirious from exhaustion~), I wanted to note some other things about it as well!:

  • JJBA the Real 4D takes place in the same theater as the DBZ 4D attraction, which shows earlier in the day before it changes to JoJo. Whereas the amusement park employees are dressed in Goku’s signature gi during DBZ’s showings, they change into the Speedwagon Foundation uniform once the JJBA 4D Experience begins for the day.
  • Ride attendees play as a special SPW operative whose mission is to help Jotaro fight Dio
  • Joseph seems to have jumped back in time because not only is he serving as your mission director, but he’s clearly doing so after Dio was trying to sell him a Ginsu knife since his neck is all bandaged up
  • You’re equipped with these special goggles that are supposed to let you dive into Jotaro’s mind, which in turn lets you see Stands/from his perspective and a UV GUN THAT LETS YOU SHOOT SUNLIGHT AT DIO
    • The UV gun also has a timing mechanism in which it needs to charge after each use~
  • Once these ORAORAs and MUDAMUDAs get to flying, so does the shaking of your seat!!!
  • YOU GET LIKE 6 SECONDS OF ZA WARUDO’S ASS IN YOUR FACE IN FULL HI-RES 3D GLORY
  • BEING IN THE CENTER OF DIO’S SUR LA TABLE KNIFE SET IS SO GOTDANG SURREAL AND COOL AS IS BEING IN S. PLAT’S POV WHILE DEFLECTING PUNCH AFTER PUNCH
  • When Jotaro gets shanked, he looks down to the knife and you can actually see the manga that’s tucked into his shirt *w*
  • When Jotaro starts glowing and levitating, he turns towards you and has you follow him (as you have a jetpack) to where he knocked Dio all the way back to Phantom Blood! He even makes eye contact with you as he flies, nudging his head and thumb over like “Yeah…this way…” as you travel along with him~
  • I felt genuine TENSION when Dio’s approaching you, asking if you wanna learn how to swing while he’s got a street sign in his hand along with LOOKING RIGHT UP INTO AN APPROACHING STEAMROLLER
  • When Jotaro finds a joke that Dio made to be an absolute knee slapper, you’re given the chance to deliver the final blast with your UV gun~!
  • Having checked out the DBZ attraction, the splash effect in that ride comes from when Broly pops out of the ocean and breaks through the protective barrier of a tournament. JOJO’S SPLASH EFFECT IS DIO AND JOTARO’S BLOOD SPLATTERING ONTO YOU!!!!!!!!
  • ; u ; The ride ends with Jotaro offering you his thanks before he and Star Platinum give you a thumbs up and a small smile
  • Once the show’s over, you’re led right into the Jump Shop, where there’s a PLETHORA of JoJo merch to be bought!
Just a thought...

So one of the things that I love about this season of Camp Camp, is that while it’s still pretty whimsical and hilarious, it’s shown some real character development in Max and David.

MAX:

Let’s face it, this kid was a die hard troublemaker and a fucking asshole all stuffed inside a tiny ten year old’s body.

Before now, you couldn’t pay him enough to enjoy anything, especially any of David’s crazy camp activities. Hell, he spent a majority of the first season either trying to escape, or trying to figure out how to destroy the camp from the inside. And he got close sometimes, it all could’ve been over when the FBI tried to arrest David for the stuff Max was looking up on his phone. But the small part of him that said what he was doing was going too far made him speak up and exonerate David. And when he thought he had gone to far in his mischievous act that David actually wanted to kill him, he was legitimately afraid and wanted to take back his actions, unlike when he was in the forest with the Quartermaster where it was more likely for him to be murdered and just accepted his fate.

And more importantly, Max was unwilling to accept that people like David existed anymore, and was willing to go to great lengths to break him. And he did. It took twelve episodes but in the end, Max won. David was utterly defeated.

And then Max had to learn the harsh lesson that sure, while life can sometimes be a piece of shit, people can choose too not look past it, but to live with it and still find the good in what’s left. Max was just too jaded by things we know not of, and so was David, and he still found the strength to be himself every day because if he didn’t, Camp Campbell would be even more miserable than Max already thought it was. And because of that, Max decided to help him just for the sake of preserving this optimism.

And now, Max has learned to kind of go with the flow. He’s no longer trying to escape or sabotage David’s every action, he’s just kicking back, relaxing, and enjoying the show.

More so, when Daniel invaded the camp, Max actually sought out David’s help rather than trying to figure out how to get rid of him on his own. And when nothing he did convinced David of Daniel’s murderous intentions, he entered the Purification Sauna, knowing full well he’d be hypnotized into loving Daniel, but had enough faith in David to remove his rose tinted glasses, finally see the truth, and save all the campers from certain death.

And when David got his heart broken by Bonquisha, he and the rest of the children went to great lengths to try and get them back together so he would stop being so depressed all the time.

That’s a lot of character development for a kid.

DAVID:

As for David, his transition has been a lot more subtle.

This happy go-lucky camp counselor is still pretty much the same, while at the same time completely different. The David of first season was optimistic to a fault. He out right refused to see the bad in people, especially Cameron Campbell, got bullied by the kids into leaving the camp for a day, had no clue how to discipline children, and had an unhealthy obsession with being the best camp counselor. And it killed him every day when he couldn’t figure out why none of the kids loved Camp Camp(bell) as much as he did.

There were even some points in the show where his mask slipped and he looked actually angry for once before going back to Happy David.

Until he was pushed to the edge by Max in the season finale of season one and he finally laid all of his cards on the table. He knew perfectly well that not everything was sunshine and roses all the time, but he had a choice. He could be like Max, pessimistic and down right bitter about the world, or he could try to see the good in the world every day and be the best version of himself he could be.

But he also learned a valuable lesson that day. It was okay to not be himself all the time. Sure, he could still be overly enthusiastic about everything, but he could still let go every now and again. Be it wanting to kick out the psycho cult leader you almost hired and may or may not have been after your job-

or sometimes fucking up and saying the wrong thing-

or being openly disappointed in the decisions other people make-

or admitting that you made a mistake that started off with good intentions-

or getting your heart broken-

needing to cry for days on end (even when it’s super awkward)-

and beating the shit out of some guy for something that wasn’t really their fault but only because you’re insanely jealous because they’re banging your babe now.

FINAL POINT:

So in the end, sure, they’re still pretty similar to how they started off in the show.

But the two of them have grown so much, I can’t wait to see where this show is going to take us next.

Stranger Things Season 2 trailer shot by shot run down

I do not claim or own any of these screenshots all rights to Netflix


aw look at my children doing normal children things can’t wait to see how long that’s going to last 

so, the way that Dungeons and Dragons was sort of the running analogy last season, my guess is that this game is going to be the overlying symbolism for this season.

my boys all back together and happy again can’t wait to see how long that’ll last :’)

so if this is the analogy I’m guessing the “sword” is going to be the key to slaying the monster

again, the dragon probably = the monster

and if so, the fact that Dustin seemingly LOST this game sort of worries me…

case in point

this trailer took approximately 15 seconds to get me to say “oh no”

AS I WAS SAYING (okay so obviously from what we left off on last season and the trailers/ teaser we’ve gotten. we now know this season is going to deal with the aftermath of the Upside Down for Will as well as the entire community as rifts have been opened to other worlds)

so i’m assuming Will’s main arc this season is going to be his struggle with being split between two worlds, and though I understand why they did it I wish we could see more of Will apart from that but oh well)

me too buddy, me too.

and thus, we have our big bad for the season *rubs hands together*

mike he is obviously not okay but thanks for being concerned

correct me if i’m wrong but is that Jonathan’s car? why is he leaving?

sooooo why isn’t Will at school?

stancy break up/ tension possibly? nothing good ever really comes from their meeting in this ally

aw…is this why he wasn’t in school? Joyce obviously knows something is up. (side note: is that Hopper behind them?)

oh come on-

these SOBs again?

so i guess maybe the Upside Down;s bleeding over to our world effect crops too???????

Hopper and Joyce as parents yes please (also Will is not okay)

“I felt it everywhere” wtf is that supposed to mean that’s terrifying

please just let the Byers family live someone give them a break

why do they look so suspect? who are they looking at?

honestly I’m loving the Halloween time theme I can’t wait for the aesthetics they’re going to be implementing

my connection/ insider I have previously hinted to me about a Steve/ kids dynamic that was going to be happening this season, but I’m actually very interested to see where this goes and the relationships that’ll come out of it

again with the aesthetics !!! yes !!! please!!! and !!! thank !!! you !!!

when the scientists are worried, it’s really time to get worried

uuuhhhhh yikes? blood is never a good sign?

ESPECIALLY AROUND DUSTIN NO DO NOT WANT THIS TRAILER IS MAKING ME REALLY CONCERNED ABOUT HIS SAFETY AS A CHARACTER

ah yes all is probably not well at the Wheeler household 

of course my dork sons all go trick or treating in matching Ghost Busters costumes I love them

it looks like he’s tracking something. buuuuut what?

HOP!! I MISSED YOU AND YOUR PERPETUALLY CONFUSED EYEBROWS

oooohhhhhh these boys look like they’re crushing on the new giiirrrllll 👀 (mainly Lucas and Dustin? maybe Will I can’t tell) (except for Mike because they really are doing everything they can to bury me in Mileven feels)

I can literally feel her angst radiating off the screen and I have a feeling I’m going to stan her unless the writers use her as a devise to cause tension or rivalry among the boys in which case someone is going to die

“Sometimes I feel like I can still see her” WHY DO THE WRITERS FEEL THE NEED TO HURT ME LIKE THIS GAH I MISS MILEVEN HE EVEN KEPT HER BLANKET FORT UP  (because also it’s important to note that this is the same shirt from the screenshot of them watching the girl walk in. so if Mike goes home and realizes he still misses I’m going to choke)

can’t wait for this to most likely just be a cat jump scare

they’re building something don’t ask me what

if I had to guess I would say some sort of device that picks up on signals from the Upside Down maybe? like some sort of crystal radio?

but why does Mike kind of look like hes going to smash it with the speaker?

new girl seems to be working with them/ part of the group now. but the box opened? idk this part is confusing

-EDIT/ UPDATE THANKS TO @disneyprincesskatherine apparently this is a reference to Ghostbusters! the box is similar to a device they use in the movies to catch ghost (i’m uncultured I’m so sorry). she also speculates this is the capture of the sort of “pet” Dustin gets that Gaten talked about (could also be why there is blood on Dustin’s chair)

okay but where is #4? they’re still in their Halloween costumes so we can assume it’s either the day of or the morning after, though on what looked to be Halloween night in one of the previous screencaps, all 4 were present soooo

more evidence of the world meshing

YOU BEST BELIEVE I SCREAMED OUT LOUD I MISSED THEM (they both looks so good I‘m loving the haircuts) (and is this them breaking into the lab?)

even though this is a gross slimy portal to another dimension, i’m still digging the aesthetics

Will is not okay part 87450507

this is either a drawing of a map of the Upside Down or all connecting tree roots. either way wtf Will?

This time on: OTPs With Unreal Height Differences 

it kind of looks like the same “tree roots” on the ground as there were at the gas station shot so yeah, I think Will was drawing a giant root system

🎶 you’re my daaad, you’re my dad, boogie woogie woogie 🎶

DREAM TEAM (Mike, Nancy, Jonathan, Joyce) (also can we laugh at the fact that Mike is armed with a candle holder while he stands next to his sister literally holding a shot gun)

Hop digging my grave for when I finish the season

*cues classic 80′s teen movie party montage*

my girl wildin out (and Steve’s there too I guess)

TELL ME WHO HURT YOU (this is a different outfit from the party though, so it’s not the same scene)

a new weapon? perhaps the “sword”?

!!!!!!

OH GOD TELL ME HOP IS OKAY

everyone in this trailer looks as shook as I feel watching it

Will Is Not Okay: The Saga Continues

same shirt so most likely what he’s experiencing on the other side. I’m almost certain he’s going to play a big role in Eleven being able to come back to the other side

Journey To The Center of the Earth (2008)

well well well, Samwise Gamgee, what’s poppin’

why does Steve have Jonathan’s bat?

as far as I can tell this treck into the Upside Down consists of Mike, Dustin, Joyce, and I can’t tell who the others are 

“ABORT ABORT!!!” (this is a different scene from the one above so I wonder what this is in reference to)

another shot of Will being scared out of his mind, this kid doesn’t ever get a break (though the background looks almost like the lab as opposed to the upside down. I could be wrong)

…well that’s concerning (kind of looks like that giant monster is chasing him)

“If you’re out there, please just give me a sign”

so this looks to be back in the Upside Down equivalent to the classroom where Eleven defeated the Demegorgan. and based on the look on her face and the previous shot above, it seems she JUST woke up

YES MY BADASS CHILD I NEVER DOUBTED YOU FOR A SECOND

yES HER RETURN IS ABOUT TO BE ICONIC

YALL MIND IF I WILD OUT OVER THESE AESTHETICS AGAIN

I’m so freaking happy for her return to Mike us

Lord almighty this season looks amazing.

11:57 PM - Peter Parker

request - alright i fuckin love tom holland so please like a smut where you catch peter sneaking in after dark and he tells you about his whole spider thing while you take care of wounds and such, and he’s like super scared your gonna leave him and so you reassure him and take care of him in another way if you catch my drift, this was real long but yeah thank you 

a/n - yes finally i post a smut fic on this blog and tbh it was kind of fun and interesting to write so i hope it isn’t a flop like me but don’t forget to request a peter parker/spider-man fic if you want and follow!

10:46 PM. Nearly 4 hours ever since Peter left me alone in his room. We were doing our Calculus homework with one another until he claimed he got an emergency phone call and ran out the door before I could say anything, taking his backpack with him.

The only thing that kept me company was my textbook and the sound of the falling rain from the outside. May was fast asleep in her room while I was far from that, my heart becoming a mix between anger and fear. I bounced my pencil against the pages of the math book, staring at my calculator as time went by.

I checked my phone again, 10:50 PM. Still no texts, no calls, nothing. I stared at my lockscreen for a few seconds before shutting off my phone and pushing it to the side, growing more frustrated by the minute.

“Dammit Peter.” I muttered, throwing my head back in a fit. I listened to the sound of the raindrops to try to calm me down, but nothing was working at this point.

I huffed and got up from the desk, beginning to pack my things up and call it a night, being more than prepared to give Peter the silent treatment for the next week. Just as I was about to zip my bag up, I heard the locks on the window become undone.

Keep reading

Movie night

Pairing; Park Jimin x Reader

Words; 3.2k

Genre; Angst (if you squint), PURE SMUT, Fluff (if you look real closely)

Summary; You and Jimin have been in a 6 month long relationship and the most you’ve done is make-out. During a movie night you deicde to push the boundaries but things don’t go as planned.

A/N; I’m still low-key sick so this isn’t perfect but I tried!

Keep reading

MORNING AFTER WITH BTS || Friends version

waking up next to your best friend after a drunk one night stand can’t be good… right?

Seokjin:

★you and jin had shared a bed many times

★so waking up next to you wasn’t something that bothered him

★he was used to waking up with a dead arm because you were laid on it

★what did bother him was that the two of you were naked

★he’d scrunch up his face trying to piece the small bits of memory he had together

★the panic would rise slightly as he tried to remember if he was protected

★that would soon be quashed when he saw the foil wrapper on the bedside drawers

★he’d then begin to panic over what would happen when you woke up

★would you leave and never talk to him again?

★over something the two of you couldn’t even remember?

★he decided to just treat it like any other time you two wake up together

★he carefully moved you from his arm and onto a pillow

★pulled on a pair of pyjamas

★and went to cook breakfast for the two of you

★when you finally woke and went to find him in the kitchen he’d offer you a small smile

★’you’re making omelette?’

★’it’s your favourite’

★’no egg pun with that?’

★’my egg puns aren’t craking today’

★’oh thank god. i thought you were going to be off with me’

★’why would i do that?’

★’you might see me different after last night’

★’i do see you different’

★’oh’

★’i see you as a god/goddess. now sit down and have your breakfast’

★the two of you ate while talking about the last thing you remember from last night

★'it isn’t as bad as they make it look in movies. we haven’t screamed at eachother, nor do we regret it’

★’you don’t regret it?’

★’i got to sleep with the most handsome man in the world, what’s to regret?’

★’you’re such an idiot’



Yoongi:

★more like afternoon after 

★you woke before him

★and decided it would be best to let the poor guy try get as much sleep as possible

★when you move to get off the bed to dress and leave, he’ll groan as his sleep was disturbed

★he’d watch you pull on your clothes then clear his throat

★’so that’s it? you’re not even going to tell me how i was?’

★’how do you not know how you were?’

★’i was drunk’

★’so was i’

★’well we’re just gonna have to do it again’

★when you threw a piece of clothing at him he’d laugh and sit up

★’you want to go get breakfast?’

★’it’s two in the afternoon’ 

★’we’re breaking the fast, Y/N. therefore it’s breakfast’

★’here’s me thinking i would have breakfast made for me’

★’i’m just as disgusted about last night i deserve compensation in the form of food also’

★when you frowned at his words, he’ll reach to pull you back onto the bed

★’it’s called a joke, love’

★he’d wrap the covers around you along with his arms

★he’d nuzzle his face into you

★and his hands would come to rest on your stomach under your shirt

★’i was serious about the doing it again thing. i’d like to do it again many times’ 

★’is that your way of asking me to be your friend with benefits?”

★’no, that was my way of asking if you’d be my girlfriend/boyfriend’

★’will i get breakfast in bed?’

★’no’

★’then it’s a no from me’

★’you little shit’

★you’d both stay laid in bed until your stomach growled

★he’d order food from his phone

★’i could cook’

★’it would require you getting out of bed’

★’we can’t stay in bed forever’

★’not with that attitude you can’t’

★he really loves to play with your hands???

★he’ll trace shapes, lyrics, his shopping list

★when it’s time for you to leave, he’ll kinda just stretch out on the bed 

★and pout

★’take me up on my offer of going out with me’

★’why should i?’

★’because i never want to wake up without you again’


Hoseok:

★softest gentleman to ever live

★when he got out of bed, he’d wrap the covers over you so none of you was exposed

★he’d go and start breakfast and make you both coffee

★when he returned to the room to see you waking up he’d turn to mush

★’breakfast is cooking. do you want to join me for a quick shower?’  

★’that would be lovely’

★’i’ve only got shower gel for me, so you’ll have to smell like me for a while’

★he’d help you out of bed and walk you to the bathroom  

★when under the water, he’ll massage your shoulders and back 

★’i could get used to this’ 

★he’d laugh and pull you back to him 

★’do you want to get used to it?’

★he’d sway with you in his arms

★’we should go eat’

★helps you get dried 

★let’s you wear something from his wardrobe

★gushes over it

★is a big ball of mush for you

★sits you on the sofa and spoon feeds you breakfast



Namjoon:

★he’d warm with joy when he wakes up to see your naked form curled into him

★though his smile would quickly fade when he saw the bruises that decorated your skin

★his fingers would run over one slowly

★you’d give a groan in response and he’d move away quickly

★’why did you stop?’ 

★you moved to look up at him

★a frown of your own on your face when you saw his expression

★’do you want me to leave?’

★’no! no, it’s just that I made a mess of you’

★you’d look down to your chest and giggle at the purple spots you now adorned

★’it’s not funny! you should’ve stopped me!’

★’why? it obviously felt good’

★’it looks painful’

★’i think it looks pretty. a souvenir, if you will’

★his mood would lift back up at your laughing 

★he’d move to hover over you and kiss all over the marks  

★he’d help you get dressed 

★would try his best to brush you hair

★but ends up getting the brush stuck

★so he gives up and lets you take over

★this poor pup can’t cook for his life so out to mcdonalds you go

★he’d wrap his arm around you while you walked 

everything happens for a reason, you know’

★‘yeah, it was always destined for you to take me to mcdonalds for lunch’



Jimin:

★jimin took good care of you as your friend

★but after you’d been intimate hot damn be prepared to be treated like royalty

★you’d wake up on your own

★but a few seconds after you’d see him walk through the door with a tray in his hands

★’you’re not leaving until I’ve fed you’

★’who said i was planning on leaving?”

★you’d both giggle alot

★after eating breakfast together in bed, you’d flop next to him and sigh

★’tell me how much you liked it~’ 

★’it was alright’

★’alright? alright wouldn’t have made you moan like that’

★’how do you remember that?’

★’you don’t forget the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard’

★’shut up’ 

★he’d lay over you to stop you from getting up

★’are we still friends?’

★'you wanna be friends after i had you a quivering mess beneath me? i don’t think so. we’re walking away at least friends with benefits. but me being your boyfriend would be ideal’

★soft bub would turn red when you agreed to the whole dating thing

★he’d move to pin your arms on the bed and straddle your stomach

★’tell me you love me’

★’i don’t’

★’then why’d you say yes?’

★’you got a nice butt’

★would attack you with kisses



Taehyung:

★if you think you could sneak out of bed think again

★he’d have his limbs wrapped around you so tight while you slept

★so when you woke up, you’d try to shimmy out of his grip

★but gave up shortly after 

★so you just laid and waiting for him to wake up

★and when he did you’d be smothered in kisses

★he’d be so happy that you’re still here

★’you didn’t leave?”

★’how could i leave when you’ve got me in a death grip?’

★’oh, sorry’

★he’d free you from the cage his limbs made 

★so you can finally stretch

★upon stretching you finally feel the numbness in your lower half

★b/c my boy goes h a r d 

★when he hears you wince, he frowns and pulls you close to him

★probably says ‘sorry’ 2343223 times

★will run a bath for you to ease some of the throbbing

★but ends up joining you 

★hums while washing your hair

★when you’re dried and dressed he’ll cook for you

★and by cook i mean make toast for you

★he’d sit opposite you, watching you eat

★’is there something on my face?’

★’you’re glowing’

★he’d giggle as your cheeks turned red

★’you look very pretty in the morning’

★’you’re very greasy in the morning’

★he wouldn’t let you out of his sight

★for some reason he thinks you’re ten times more fragile after sex

if another member comes near you he’ll wrap you close to him


Jungkook:

★one huge misunderstanding

★you’d had to leave for whatever reason

★so when he woke up to find your side empty he frown

★and kinda just lay there

★trying to remember as much from last night as possible

★he thought you regretted it because you left

★so he wouldn’t text you

★he didn’t want to feel uncomfortable

★and you thought he didn’t text you beause he was ashamed 

★the two of you would just mope around

★the other members would be upset by the shift of mood

★they’d plan to lock you in a room until you sorted things out and things could go back to normal 

★’so’

★’so’

★’you alright?’

★’missed you a bit, but i’m good’

★’you missed me?’

★’yeah, not having you to talk to is awful’

★’i thought you were ashamed’

★’and i thought you were embarrased’

★’we didn’t speak for two weeks because of a misunderstanding?’ 

★’well when we’re done here you’re coming to the dorms and staying until further notice. I have two weeks to catch up on’ 

Inked - Part 1

Peter Parker x Reader

soulmate au: you and your soulmate have tattoos that represent the others interests that tingle when you two are close to one another

word count: 2,273

Originally posted by hardyness

A/N this is honestly written for @parkerbpete, since she inspires me to write so much, like i love her work and ugh, she is my writing senpai. i love her and yea, hope you all like

——————————

Ink stained across your arm forming an intricate sleeve, a tattoo filled with things your soulmate was interested in, that would fluctuate from time to time. You remember that before it was filled with electron diagrams, pi and other math symbols, chemical structural formulas, and things you couldn’t recognize, all coming together to form a science themed tattoo sleeve, but now all that changed. Some tattoos fading to make space for your soulmate’s newest interests, which mainly consisted of the newest superhero to join the scene, Spiderman. Spidey’s logo was now on your bicep, a small avenger’s logo on the base of your wrist, a crest that matched the iron man suit, and spider webs lacing the new tattoos with the old. But the one thing that never changed was the writing that surrounded your wrist that was written in their writing, “always be yourself”

You had the vague idea that your soulmate attended Middletown with you, since the only time the writing on your wrist seemed to tingle, was walking down the corridors of school. But you always thought against finding them, having the idea that they were better off without you. Plus after spending hours staring at your tattoos, you felt that you two would have nothing in common. You may have been smart enough to attend Middletown; however your interests were more inclined to herbs and plants, not science.

So you made the decision to not look for your soulmate, because if they didn’t bother looking for you, then it only proves they didn’t need you in their life. So you would just continue walking down the halls, knowing that someone at school could also feel the tingling sensation on their arm.

You were gathering your supplies to tend your rooftop garden before you headed to sleep, however the last thing that you expected was to see Spiderman on your rooftop. The red and blue hero was resting against the brink ledge, as he clutched his arm, seeing a few gashes on the suit.  

“Spiderman are you ok?” setting down your supplies.

A groan escaped his lips, his body trying to become alert, but couldn’t with how tired he felt. He shook his head, “no, but I’ll be fine in a bit” trying to sound heroic but failing in the process.

You quickly went over to the small first aid kit, knowing that although it wasn’t built for serious injuries, there were still supplies for simple cuts and injuries from when you would nick yourself while tending your garden, “I seriously doubt that.”

As you approached Spiderman, small tingles ran up your arm, as the writing on your wrist started to feel warmer with each passing step. Your heart sped up knowing the reason why your arm was tingling, but right now his injuries mattered more than asking him if he was your soulmate. You gently set your supplies down, being mindful of where he was hurting and ignoring his intense gaze. Your hands were slightly trembling, anxious of being so close to him that you started to question if you could do this. You weren’t sure if you were nervous because you were near Spiderman or near your soulmate. Your licked your lips and emptying your thoughts, reaching out for his right arm, and the moment you touched it, you felt the warm spark run across your arm, confirming the small doubts in your mind, this really was your soulmate.

You didn’t do anything to call attention to it, and focused on the gashes on his suit, seeing the scarlet liquid staining not only the suit but the pale skin underneath. You reached for gauze and peroxide, “this may sting a bit,” the bottle still trembling in your hand, reminding yourself to keep calm.

You looked up at Spidey, wanting some sort of confirmation that he was ok with this. He nodded, and you started to pour the liquid over his wound. A hiss escaped his lips, as the water met the raw skin. You gently started to pat the area dry, making sure that the wound was clean before you moved on to the next. Your whole right arm never stopped sending the small sparks, that you wondered how he could keep his composure, when you were almost a nervous wreck. You looked up at him, meeting the visors that covered his eyes, but it didn’t lessen the speed of your heart or the warmth that was spreading across your face.

“That’s a nice sleeve,” his voice finally filling the silence that surrounded both of you.

“Thanks…it’s based on my soulmate,” your voice coming out as a whisper.

His gloved hand traced over the writing, before he started to travel up the rest of the sleeve, making your heart go into overdrive and your skin so sensitive to his touch, making you bite down on your lower lip, but you didn’t dare ask him to stop. “I know,” his voice no longer sounding hurt, “my arm is filled with flowers,” his hand now tracing over one spider webs.

Keep reading

smile ✦ peter parker

summary : as the adopted daughter of none other than tony stark, you have a myriad of responsibilities. babysitting peter parker probably wasn’t supposed to be one of them. not that you’re complaining.

word count : 4.7k (also known as the longest thing I’ve ever written)

author’s note : ur adopted b/c not everyone is white and i don’t want anyone to feel excluded from reading this due to the fact tony is white (and yes ik there are interracial couples i just want everyone to feel included i want to make sure whoever wants to read this can without feeling weird about it b/c i know it is something that bothers people in the fanfic community okay bye enjoy my loves.)

   Tony Stark was a lot of things to a lot of people. He was the billionaire, he was the genius, the philanthropist, and the notorious playboy in his younger years. Most notably, however, was that he was Iron Man. He was marveled at by the entire world, him and the group of heroes that stood beside him; the Avengers, as they called themselves. To you, however, he was your father. 

   A terribly overprotective one, at that. 

  Of course, this was only to be expected of a father, even a foster one, but the lengths the man went to in order to keep his only daughter out of whatever he deemed trouble were rather extensive. You rarely ever left the Avengers tower, and if you did you were accompanied by a team of people you could only describe as rip off Secret Service men. Sometimes, Natasha would replace them, or Steve, but that was a rare occurrence. You were homeschooled by the best tutors his money could pay for- this particular move was less about refining your education and more about keeping you away from any boy in the five boroughs. 

   You chose to spend majority of your time reading in your room and training, always wary of anyone who approached you about being a friend. Your surname meant everything to people, especially the girls that wandered around Manhattan desperate to become the bestie of the daughter of the richest man in New York. You loved your dad with all your heart, but the stigma that ran with the Stark name would never stop irritating you. 

   That, and the impromptu plans he threw at you on a regular basis. 

   “Miss Stark, your father is requesting access to your room. He knows you hate it when he barges in.” Vision drifted into your room without warning, making you jump. You yanked your earbuds out of your ears, giving him a look. 

   “I hate when anyone barges in, Vision. That includes you, too.” You pushed your chair away from your desk, placing your pen on the desk and shutting your notebook. “Tell him he can come in if he lets me become an Avenger.” You raised your voice at this, knowing he would hear you. 

   “He says that he’ll consider it if you let him in.” 

   You raised your eyebrows. “Touché.” You motioned for the door to open, and your father walked into the room, immediately taking his pristinely polished shoes off and lying down on your bed. You stared at him.“Dad, it’s not cool to wear sunglasses inside. You look lame.” 

   Tony Stark rolled his eyes at you. “It’s called a look, sweetheart.” You laughed, pretending to nod in agreement. He placed his hands behind his head as you spun your chair back around to your desk. “What are you working on?” 

   “Something for Bruce,” you muttered, pen cap between your teeth as you continued to jot down important points from his numerous lab reports. You were going to have to hand in a full analysis of his findings for your end of term science paper, and he was more than willing to aid you. “Science report.” 

   “My daughter, beautiful and intelligent, my flesh and blood,” Tony declared proudly. 

   “Dad, I love you to the death, but I’m still not your biological kid,” you smiled all the same, though, and he knew behind the tough exterior you were happy to hear his expressions of admiration. 

    “Who needs a biological kid when I’ve got this great, wonderful adopted one right in front of me.” 

   Not looking up from your notebook, you said, “You’re really laying it on thick today. I’m all of those things, obviously, but I know you want something. So, what is it?” You paused, then said, “Thank you, by the way.” 

   “You sure we’re not related?” He sat back up, clasping his hands together. “What do you say about Germany?” 

   “Nice enough place I guess, interesting history, why?” 

   “I kind of need you to go there for two weeks with me.” 

   With a groan, you dropped your pen and held your face in your hands. “Another surprise trip? Dad, I have school. I have homework! Do you see this?” You held up the thick stack of reports from Banner’s lab, waving them around. “This is gonna be, like, my life’s work.” 

   Tony shook his head. “Kids these days and their homework. Seriously. When I was at school I would have taken any opportunity to shirk my responsibilities.” 

  “You did do that.”

    He waved his hand. “Technicalities. Anyway, as you know the Avengers have been disassembled. Sokovia Accords and all that bullshit. I assume you’ve been keeping up?” 

   “Hard not to.” It was true. Anything in the news was about the great split of the infamous team, Captain America vs Iron Man. It was impossible to turn on the television without hearing about it. And, considering you lived underneath the same roof as half of them, it was quite literally not an option to be ignorant to what was going on. 

   “Good,” he grinned proudly again. If there was one emotion that the man felt whenever he was around, it was proud. Nearly everything you did made him beam with pride, and if you had been placed into an actual high school, there was no doubt in his mind that the person at the top of every single class would be you. You excelled no matter the circumstances. “So, to sum up, there’s gonna be a big showdown in Germany. Western style, naturally. Guns blazing and everything.” 

   Your eyes lit up and you nearly flew out of your chair, rushing over to him. “Oh my god, are you finally gonna let me fight? You’ve seen my training, right? I’m getting so good. I’m like, practically Natasha level good. She’s been showing me that move where I can snap people’s necks with my thighs and-” 

   “First of all, your thighs are not going around anyone’s neck, so jot that down,” he interrupted. Your enthusiasm visibly deflated. “I need you to kind of watch over this kid who’s coming with us. He’s from Queens. You love Queens.” 

   “You’re making me babysit?” You flopped down on your bed, staring up at the ceiling. “C’mon, dad, I’m sixteen. That’s practically an adult. I think I should be allowed to fight this time. I’m Avenger worthy.” 

   “Practically an adult is not the same as literally an adult, as in over eighteen.” You groaned again. “Don’t call it babysitting, anyway. He’s your age. Well, he’s a few months younger, but that doesn’t matter. Just call it… hanging out with a good kid that’s fighting for your dear old dad and making sure he doesn’t get into trouble in Germany or annoy Happy too much.” He patted your knee, standing up. “We leave in the morning, kiddo, so pack up.” 

   “How come he gets to fight if he’s younger than I am?” 

   “’Cause he’s not my daughter. Goodnight, light of my life.” He kissed your forehead before leaving, giving you another encouraging smile.

   “Goodnight, pain my ass,” you grumbled as he left. He popped back in, a stern expression on his face. “If I watch your new protégée can I become an Avenger?” Tony rubbed a hand over his eyes. Teenage girls were exhausting. 

   “We’ll talk about it.”


   You’re sitting at your breakfast table with suitcases piled next to you when Peter Parker strolls into your life with happiness in his every footstep because he is just so, so glad to be there. You’re spooning cereal into your mouth when he sits down directly across from you, a video camera cupped in his soft looking hands and the little red button clicked on, meaning that he is recording you. You place your spoon back into the bowl of milk that is dusted with cinnamon sugar from the Cinnamon Toast Crunch you’ve been eating for the past ten minutes. 

   “Do you mind?” 

   “Mind what?” He asked, peeking up from behind his camera. You gestured toward it, wiping your mouth with your sleeve. 

   “The camera. I’m kind of still in the middle of eating breakfast in my pajamas,” you leaned forward, switching it off. “You must be the Spider-Boy.” The chestnut haired boy feels a blush creeping up his neck and settling along his cheekbones when you say that. 

   “Oh, did Mr. Stark tell you that?” He rubbed the back of his neck, laughing awkwardly. “Um, it’s Spider-Man, actually.” He mumbled the man part, knowing fully well that he didn’t look like much of a man in the eyes of anyone, his eyes casting down as he fidgeted with the strap on his camera. 

   “Oh good,” you nodded. You took another spoonful of cereal. “I like that better. Nicer ring to it.” You grabbed your box of sugary breakfast and pushed it toward him, an offering. 

   “Huh?” He was a bit dazed. He stared at the box in front of him and then realized he had been doing that for far too long of a time to be considered normal. “Oh, right, um, sure, thanks!” He opened the box and took a handful, shoving it in his mouth. You kept eating your cereal, silently staring at the bowl and willing yourself not to laugh at the boy in front of you. With all his nerves, he was still a bundle of energy and cheerfulness, and, well, let’s face it, he was sort of adorable. “So, you think my name’s cool?” He tried to sound suave, charming, as he said it, tried to smirk at you, but he stopped when he realized that he looked stupid.

   You gave him a half smile. “It’s pretty good.” His face positively lit up with happiness to be taken seriously, and you knew the feeling too well. You stuck out your hand. “Oh, forgot to introduce myself-” 

  “Y/N Stark, adopted daughter of Mr. Stark, probably the smartest girl in all of New York and, uh, correct if I’m wrong but… Black Widow’s best student as well as Bruce Banner’s apprentice.” 

   You gaped at him. The blush he had been sporting crept up to his ears and made his nose turn the shade of a strawberry. “Well, uh, yeah,” you said, flustered. “Should I creeped out or flattered?” 

   “Flattered, please.” The genuine worry in his eyes as he leaned forward made you laugh. He had an endearing personality. 

   “Flattered it is.” You watched the slow sigh of relief leave his mouth, his hands flying up the mess of hair atop his head and fixing it distractedly. Your dad walked into the room, and Peter practically fell out of his chair trying to stand up and seem presentable. Your slouch was indicative that you didn’t care much. He was just your dad. “Morning, pops,” you slid the box over his way.  

   He frowned at it.” Y/N, that stuff is crap. I don’t know why you eat it.” 

   “Wanda and I like it,” you said defensively, a slip of the tongue. You knew your dad was going to get annoyed at the mention of the Scarlet Witch, who had evaded and ignored his attempts at keeping her powers under control. “It’s good. High quality. Right, Peter?” You whipped your head toward him. 

   He felt his heart give a little tug. He grabbed the box out of your hand and shoved more cereal in his mouth, the cinnamon sugar sticking to his lips. “Yeah, Mr. Stark. Best stuff ever,” he said through a mouthful of it. Tony gave them an amused glance, picking up your two heaviest suitcases and beckoning you both to the landing strip. Peter swallowed his food. 

   He didn’t even like Cinnamon Toast Crunch that much. He was just thrilled that you knew his real name.


   Everything about this kid was infuriatingly dorky in the cutest way possible. You came to this conclusion as you boarded the jet with ease, sitting in your usual spot by the window and greeting Happy with your typical friendly smile and idle chitchat. Peter stumbled onto it with awe written across his features as he stared around the place, touching nearly everything much to Happy’s dismay. 

   “Haven’t you been on a plane before?” The man asked, growing irritated with the way the kid was filming everything. You saw Peter zoom in on Happy’s face and grinned out your window. 

   “Nope, never!” Peter exclaimed, his video camera still in front of him as he captured every detail of his trip. 

   “Well, sit down so we can take off,” Happy said gruffly, grabbing Peter’s shoulders and forcefully placing him into a seat. 

  Peter sat still for a moment, then hopped over to the seat next to you. He placed his camera in front of him on the tray table. “Y/N, smile for the camera. I’m recording.” You looked at him, then turned to the camera and gave it a deadpan stare. You even threw in a slow blink. “Good enough,” he shrugged. He kept it recording as he shifted in his seat so that his entire body was facing you, his chin resting in his hand and his elbow on your armrest. His gaze was sort of nice. “So, Miss Stark, I have a few questions.” 

   “Um, okay, shoot,” you closed your book that you had open on your lap. “I’m not that interesting, just so you know.” 

  “I think you’re interesting,” he assured you. You heard Happy let out a choked laugh at Peter’s flirting attempt, but it was just another thing you found sort of lovely. It was a genuine compliment. “What’s your favorite subject in school?”

   You’d been expecting the typical what’s it like being Tony’s daughter spiel, and you were pleased to get an actual question about yourself for once. “I like everything, I guess. I kind of love school, but I don’t go to a conventional school, so. Training is cool, I like that a lot.” 

   “You train with Black Widow, I have to ask- can you show me some moves? I need to refine my technique before the fight,” he explained.  

    “Do you wanna learn how to crush people with your thighs?”

   “Wow! Do you think I could? Could you teach me? That’s so cool,” he beamed, turning to the camera for a split second with an overexcited look. 

   You pursed your lips, staring out your window for a minute. You were up in the air by now, and there was long flight ahead of you. “Maybe. If my dad is okay with it. I have to check.” Peter looked confused, 

   “Why wouldn’t he be?” 

   “He’s, you know, really overprotective.” You put your first against the cheek, leaning the same way that Peter was. You sighed. “I don’t have a lot of friends. Which is fine, but I can’t even attempt to go make any because I have a whole freaking SWAT team on my ass the minute I step out of the tower because he’s so worried about my safety.” You let your head hit the window, your eyes rolling skyward. “And that makes no sense because-” 

   “You’re really strong and stuff. You can protect yourself,” Peter finished. 

    “I think you know me a little too well, Peter,” you said, poking him lightly in the arm. “But… yeah, exactly. I don’t really get to do anything fun. I don’t have adventures. Sure, reading is fun and studying is fun for me and training is great and I love hanging out with everyone in the tower but I’m still a teenager. No fun for me, though. My life is pretty boring, sorry if that makes your little video diary suck.” You stuck your tongue out at his camera.  

   “No worries,” he said, taking it off the tray table and turning it toward you. “Tell me every boring detail, Miss Stark.” 

   “As long as you stop calling me Miss Stark.” 

   “You’ve got a deal.” 

   It was a seven hour trip, and you both passed out by the three hour mark after Peter had pried every excruciating detail from your life out of you. You hated sleeping on airplanes, but your head was slumped against his shoulder and his arm was knocking against your own and his sweatshirt was as soft as pillow. You remembered the shy glance he had given you just before you knocked out on his shoulder for the remainder of the flight. He had a sweet smile. 


    Peter filmed absolutely everything. He filmed himself getting off the plane and then filmed you getting off the plane and nearly shoved the camera in Happy’s face until he threatened to break it and Peter backed off. He radiated enthusiasm. “Look at this, and this, and this, oh shit wow that’s so cool look at this! Oh man this is good stuff!”

   “Peter this is literally just the airport how am I supposed to take you around the actual city?!”

   “OH WOW Y/N have you seen this!” 

    “Yes, Peter!” 

     He zoomed in on your face, your devoid of emotion look appearing again. “Are you ever gonna smile for the camera?” He gave you a pout, doe eyes and all. You turned away. 

   “No. I’m supposed to be babysitting you, please be behave.” You touched your fingers to the bridge of your nose, dragging Peter to a couch. “Please sit. We’re getting the hotel reservations checked.” 

   “Do they juice boxes? I’m really thirsty.” He was just trying to make you laugh at this point, and annoying you was kind of funny for him. You let out an involuntary chuckle when he pretended to claw at his throat, throwing himself on the ground. 

   “I’ll make sure they have juice boxes for you, Petey. You’re such a seven year old, geez.” You pretended to gag. 

   Looking offended, Peter replied, “I’m actually twelve.” 

   Jokingly, you said, “You’re a twelve year old that’s going to get a punch in the face if you don’t settle down right now.” He stood up, directly in front of you with his light eyes and little grin, another feverish looking heat burning at his face. Nevertheless, he still said, “It’d be an honor to get beaten up by you.” 

  His voice, the sincerity he carried within it despite the ludicrous statement, made you feel those famed butterflies fluttering inside you. Maybe it was the way he looked into your eyes as he said it. Maybe it wasn’t. But something within you was starting to like Peter Parker, and you’d barely known him for twenty four hours. 

   Then again, it was hard to not like Peter. The kid was just so damn likable. 


   He had known it from the moment he first set his eyes upon you that day in the tower that he was a goner. If he had known it then, just from sitting down across from you with nothing to him but his lanky figure and a suit that resembled a onesie more than it did a costume fit for a hero such as he, he was sure of it now, a week and a half later. 

   Every day had been the same routine. He’d be up bright and early in the morning so you could help with him his training, teaching him how to utilize the suit your father had given him with ease rather than his usual tactic of jumping into everything blind. You’d been the one to help come up with nearly all of the web shooter combinations. He didn’t know all of them yet, or close to half of them, but he was progressing wonderfully. 

   After training, you’d give him the tour of your favorite places around Germany, close enough to where you’d both be able to get back to the hotel before dark. He filmed the both of you constantly, but you shied away from the cameras every time without fail. He couldn’t understand why, but he didn’t push. He just liked filming in general, and would accept you not smiling in any of his clips as long as you were still in there. 

   There was a beautiful sense of normalcy that came with hanging around Peter. You reveled in it. No one had ever made you laugh so hard with his ridiculous attempts at jokes or made you smile so much at his shy flirting skills that clearly needed to be revisited. 

   It was okay. You didn’t mind. And the fact that you didn’t tease him for it made him so, so happy. 

   Then, came the day of the fight. Peter had his camera out, he was dressed in his spidey suit, and you were standing there next to him dictating who he should and shouldn’t go after. 

   “Don’t go after Wanda ‘cause she could obliterate you in two seconds and Cap could crush you, too, but he won’t ‘cause he’s really nice like that. Bucky won’t care as much, though, so don’t do that- Ant-Man seems pretty cool and harmless but I don’t have as much intel on him and Peter if you get hurt you have to go hide somewhere-” 

   “I’m not gonna get hurt,” he said confidently. 

   You ignored him. “I’m gonna be in your earpiece, figuratively speaking, so I’ll hear everything you do and if you talk I’ll be able to hear you and you can hear me. So, just… keep me updated.” Peter took off his mask for a second, hair sticking up everywhere from the static. You leaned up, smoothing it back into place. Everything about him was soft. You wanted to curl up in it and stay there for as long as you could. 

   “I’ll be fine, Y/N, don’t worry,” Peter placed his hand on your shoulder. You felt your face heat up. 

   “I- I’m not worried.” You totally were. “I know you’ll be fine.” You didn’t want him getting hurt. “I just want you to be careful.” You didn’t want him to fight. 

   You could’ve sworn his face fell a  bit when you said you weren’t worried, but he squeezed your shoulder anyway. Without a moment’s hesitation, you threw your arms around him, your nose pressing against his neck as you took a deep breath. He stood there for a second without doing anything until he realized that if he didn’t hug you back, he’d be the dumbest person on the face of the Earth. You felt his surprisingly defined arms hug you back. 

   You didn’t look at him when you pulled away. You stared at the spider emblazoned on his chest, gave him a quick good luck, then departed from the room. You sat on your own hotel bed with a rapidly beating heart.

    The nerves were killing you. Ten more minutes. You opened your laptop and pulled up the system that would allow you to communicate across Team Stark. You were more focused on your dad and Peter. You tapped into your dad’s earpiece after placing the headset on. “Dad?” You spoke into the microphone. 

   “Hey, kiddo, everything okay?” 

   “Y-Yeah I just-” you took another breath. “Be safe. I love you.” 

   “I love you too, Y/N. Are you sure everything is okay over there?” 

   “Can you just make sure Peter gets out okay? If he gets hurt, bring him right back, please. That’s it.” Maybe it was a stupid request in someone else’s eyes, but you needed Peter to make it back in one piece. Tony Stark looked over at Peter Parker, crouching in his hiding spot and fumbling around with the gloves of his suit and gave the kid a knowing smile. Of course that was the one his  daughter fell for in the end. Perfectly fitting. 

   “I’ll make sure.” You knew your father couldn’t see the grateful smile on your face, the sigh of relief that fell past your lips when he spoke these words.

   Peter Parker, I swear if you make it out of this, I will smile like an idiot in every single one of your stupidly adorable video diary things. I swear. Just be safe.


 “Your black eye is awful,” you told him, dabbing at it with more cream. “Totally ruins your face.”

   “I think I look manly.” 

   “You think incorrectly.” You stepped back, your fingertips tilting his chin up so you could examine it further. “I think I got the worst of it. You did really well, Peter. Exceptionally well.” His face was glowing from your compliment. 

   “Can I get on that tape?” He asked excitedly, ducking under his hotel bed for his camera. You nodded, and he switched the camera on. He held out his arm so that you were both in frame. And you smiled. He forgot all about what you were supposed to say the moment that beautiful smile appeared there. “I- wow, Y/N.” 

   “What?’ 

    His stare was kind as it usually was. “You just-” he paused. “Your smile is really, really beautiful.” There was no way for you to turn away from the camera this time and you were left grinning like a lovestruck idiot at the boy in front of you, leaning up on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek. 

  “Thank you.” 

  You slept the entire plane ride the way you had the last time, curled up against Peter. This time, it was intentional. One of your arms was flung across his waist and his was wrapped around your shoulders, the sweatshirt he had came in now swaddling you cozily. There were two separate cars waiting for you. You stood in between them when the flight got off, the sleeves of his sweater hanging off your hands as you reached out to grab his. He felt you push a piece of paper into his hand. “You better call me, Peter Parker. I’ll be really upset if you don’t.” 

   He wrapped you suddenly in an embrace that lifted you off your feet just a little bit, his lips pressing against your temple. “I’ll call you every day.” 


   He kept true to his word. Every day without fail, your phone rang with a call from Peter, and you fell asleep on the phone with him more often than not. If you weren’t on the phone with him, you were texting him, and if you weren’t doing that, you wished that you were. The consistent communication was better than nothing, but regardless, you missed his presence. You missed the way you felt walking next to him as he explained why chocolate ice cream was so clearly better than vanilla. You just missed him. 

   “Peter?” You held the phone to your ear, nestled in your blankets already even though it was barely nine o'clock. His sleepy voice mumbled out a yes? “Would it be stupid if I said that I missed you?” 

  She could practically hear his wide smile through the phone. “Of course not. I miss you, too. So much. Probably more than you miss me.” 

   “That’s so not true!” She scoffed. 

    “Wanna bet?” His tone was mischievous, no longer the hoarse, pretty voice of a boy just waking up from his nap. “Open your bedroom door.” 

    “Are you joking?” 

    You hung up the phone, throwing back your covers and not caring one bit that your hair was a dripping mess from your shower or that you were wearing  a terrible set of hello kitty pajamas that weren’t meant for anyone over the age of ten based on the size of the top. You nearly tackled him to the ground when you saw him standing in your doorway, a happy squeal escaping your lips. You were surprised he even got in, considering your dad wasn’t home, but you figured Vision had let him in. Vision always had a way of knowing. 

   “Have I ever told you that you have a really pretty smile?” Peter’s lips hovered over yours, almost hesitant. You took the initiative to kiss first, your hands delving into his silk-like hair. There was no point in waiting anymore. Your noses bumped together clumsily when he tilted his head back, admiring. You could feel your whole being light up when he gazed at you the way that he did, in that admiring, careful, Peter way of his. 

   “Careful, Spidey,” You warned, hands on his chest as you stared right back up at him. 

   “Careful of what?” He quirked an eyebrow. 

   “You’re going to make me fall in love with you one of these days if you keep looking at me like that.” It was only the truth, and you were a honest person.

   “That’s sort of the plan,” he shrugged in a seemingly careless way, but he couldn’t hide it. He was an open book. An open book who loved you, and the way that you smiled at him when he pulled back his sleeve to reveal a web shooter, a strange glint in those brown eyes of his as he said, “You up for an adventure?” 

Just Risk It

Summary: Trying to convince you to go to your high school reunion, Steve exposes himself.

Word Count: 855

A/N: Idk, this happened when I was trying to see if I could start a drabble series. But then the reader took charge and I kinda like it lol.

Originally posted by talkinboutmyimagination

Steve walked into the living room, hands full of envelopes, magazines, and coupon books departments usually sent. He lifted them up as everyone looked at him. “Mail’s here.”

The pile was dropped right in the middle of the coffee table, and as usual, everyone began to shuffle through the contents until they found the envelopes addressed to them. Bucky took the coupons and magazines.

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Confession - Peter Parker

request -  hey! I love your blog and the writing’s are great and super fluffy and so cute AHHH. Could you please write a fic in which peter and the reader have been friends for a long time and when they finally go to Liz;s party peter confesses his feelings for the reader and could you make it super fluffy? THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR RUNNING THIS BLOG!

a/n - i’m so sorry if this fic seems rushed i went back and forth so many times with different ideas and hopefully it turned out okay :) thank you so much for all the love, don’t forget to request a peter parker/spider-man fic if you’d like!

The bass of the speakers boomed around the house as I poured some soda for Michelle and I. The continuous chatter of teenagers was the only sound I could hear from the music, almost running around the kitchen to collect snacks. I gathered a plate and was ready to share with Michelle, but she seemed to have a piece of toast in her hand, spreading butter on it.

“Where’d you find that?” I asked, eating a pretzel.

“Second cabinet from the left.” She answered, turning to me. “Want a bite?”

“No thanks.” I took a step back, chuckling. She shrugged and continued to eat the bread, taking a sip of her soda. We both continued to talk with one another until we heard Flash’s voice echo off the walls.

“When I say Penis, you say Parker!” He yelled into the microphone, attempting to start the mediocre chant that got really old after five minutes. But, in an unfortunate way, it let me know that Peter arrived. I headed to the door to look for him, catching him in a heartbeat.

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YOI Fan Rec Friday

Thank you for all your recs this week, I’m so excited to read (and reread) them all! 

Rec’d by anonymous:
The Unknown Unknown
by opalish, Teen, 7.4k
Yuuri never meant to become a supervillain. These things just happen to him. 

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
S.L.O.B
by simplydrasticvoldy, Mature, 2.4k (WIP)
Versace-clad, Gucci shades atop his head, his silver-hair fringe always on fleek, Victor Nikiforov has never been a slob in his life.Naturally, one doesn’t expect him to be drunk off his ass, half-covered in chipotle sauce the moment he first locks his eyes with the new, endearingly oblivious neighbour Katsuki Yuuri.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
Imprisoned
by Linisy, Mature, 26k (WIP)
For the past two years, Yuuri has been endlessly tormented by malevolent spirits. Just as he finds himself at the end of his rope, he meets Victor, an enigmatic man who possesses the ability to relieve him.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
My Boy Builds Coffins
by ken_ichijouji (dommific), Explicit, 9.5k (WIP)
Yuuri’s always dealt with a lot of (pun not intentional) grief about the family business, so much so he’s given up on making many friends or finding romance.But during one morning Starbucks rush, he meets a light-haired, blue-eyed man in dark colors and manicured nails who just might prove him wrong that no one will be able to get past his job.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
And Miles to Go Before I Sleep
by Orchids_and_Fictional_Cities, Mature, 10k (WIP) 
Katsuki Yuuri has been cursed to spread misery and grief to those who dare to come close to him. Viktor Nikiforov has been sentenced to wander the earth, unable to die, granting wishes to mortals in the hopes that one of them might give his life meaning in exchange.They meet in a tempest of April snow. (Mod note: can I just say that the art in this fit is incredible, wow!)

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
cadillacs in our dreams
by neuroticmango, Gen, 5.9k (WIP)
The role of Japan’s Imperial Family is purely ceremonial nowadays, but that doesn’t stop the Imperial Household Agency from making archaic decisions affecting Katsuki Yuuri’s dime a dozen life.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
To the Moon
by JMonCheri, Teen, 21k ***Major Character Death
Viktor Nikiforov’s last, literal dying wish is to get a gold medal. Yuri and Otabek figured it would be an easy goal to accomplish, until they figure out that Nikiforov was an Olympic figure skating champion with already a truck ton of other golden medals.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
Pigeon Alley
by DiAnna44, Teen, 31k
What’s meant to be will always find a way. Victor and Yuuri? They’re meant to be.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by @littleladykokomos:
The Blue Rose
by shadhahvar, Teen, 72k (WIP) ***Graphic depictions of violence
It all started with a rose. Victor’s playful request from the Feltsman Troupe leader, Yakov, was a familiar refrain every time he was off negotiating for contracts in the Southern Cities. He’d never once returned with a blue rose.Until Yakov returned home half frozen one winter night on the back of a strange black pony, clutching a blue rose in hand. The rose’s owner had made one infuriated demand of the troupe leader: a life for a life. Now Victor will accept the geas on the rose and face down the Beast in his castle, even if it cuts him off from most his old life. Yet both Beauty and Beast may find there’s more to magic, enchantment, and love than either of them knew.

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Rec’d by anonymous:
of poodles and human babies by thishasbeencary, Teen, 5.5k (WIP)
Logically, Viktor knows that an animal for a gift is a Bad Idea. Okay? He knows. He’s heard the talks about how people might not commit to something they didn’t pick out, they won’t be planned in advance to have the time and commitment to it, they wouldn’t be able to cover the costs… The list went on and on, and Viktor knew that that list existed, so he wasn’t going to do it. He wouldn’t get Yuuri a puppy for his birthday.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous, @omgkatsudonplease, and @vityanikiforova:
Raison d'Être by cutesudon (elfoftheforest), Explicit, 12k
President Nikiforov of Russia has a few weaknesses: premium rye vodka, an attention span of 30 minutes, and a torrid love affair with the Japanese Prime Minister.

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Rec’d by anonymous and anonymous:
Soon We’ll Be Found by lilithsins, Explicit, 130k (WIP)
When Yuuri’s life is unintentionally turned upside down, he and Viktor are thrown onto a path in their relationship that neither of them could have foreseen. The future is a vast, uncertain cavern before them, and if they’re going to get through it, they’re going to have to lean on each other, to trust each other more than they ever have before… …and it isn’t always going to be easy.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
Dissonance by Mats, Explicit, 71k
Yuuri takes it for granted that Viktor will always meet him where he is. So when his coach and lifelong idol suddenly plants a very public kiss on him at the Cup of China, Yuuri takes it as a signal that his and Viktor’s relationship is about to undergo a major (and welcomed) change. But he may be wrong, and that might change everything, too. Viktor has a strategy. Had a strategy. But he got too ahead of himself and deviated from the plan… and it blew up in his face spectacularly, just like he knew it would. Now he’s back to square one and although he’s committed to starting over and doing it right this time, he can’t shake the feeling that he’s always only one misstep away from watching it all fall apart again.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
counterclockwise by viktyuuri (Empress_Arisu), Teen, 6.9k (WIP)
Life after retirement, Yuuri thinks, is quite a nice change of pace. Although, not so much when he finds himself thrust back into the past. In which married husbands Viktor and Yuuri somehow end up 5 years in the past without knowing how or why.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
Katsudon for Gold by cROAissant (RoamingShadow), Gen, 4.5k
Somewhere along the road, “I might never like you” morphed into “I would die for this child”, and Yuri Plisetsky would be six feet under before Victor fucking Nikiforov would lay his thirsty hands on his precious student.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
Gololyeditsa by QueenSabriel, Mature, 22k (Read the tags!)
While on a road trip to Moscow the trio finds themselves in an abandoned Soviet mining town, but something they brought with them will not let them leave.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by @kawaiiusagi2:
Gubraithian Fire by IdunAurora, Teen, 39k (WIP)
Seven years have passed since the end of the Second Wizarding War, and with the world turning a little brighter in the aftermath, the wizarding world has grown a little closer. Mahoutokoro might be the logical school of choice if you live in Japan, and Uagadou if you live anywhere in Africa, but if Hogwarts just so happens to have a more intriguing curriculum, why not go there instead, now that they actually accept students from outside the UK and Ireland? With worry gnawing in the back of his mind and his heart attempting to hammer itself through his rib-cage, Viktor plunges himself into studies, Quidditch, too many towers, friendship, and… wait, who’s that guy with black hair and glasses that suddenly set the world aflame by breathing in his general direction?

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
He never ceases to surprise me by Farato, Gen, 660 words
Victor want’s to surprise Yuuri, so he settles with something he knews Yuuri loves.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
Treasure by m00n_rabbit, Teen, 25k (WIP)
Yuuri is a disgraced knight looking for a way to redeem himself. Victor is a cursed prince living alone in an enchanted castle. The dragon complicates things.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by @ms-cocoa:
Yuri, the Vampire Slayer by Wynn, Teen, 20k (WIP)
One month after the death of his Watcher, Yakov Feltsman, sixteen-year old Yuri Plisetsky struggles to deal with the grief he feels at Yakov’s death as well as the burden he bears at being a vampire slayer, particularly keeping his secret from his best friend, Otabek Altin. Yuri’s brother, Viktor, struggles as well, having traded ballet and the Bolshoi for lawnmowers and suburbia following the death of their mother two years prior. Into both of their lives walks Yuuri Katsuki, a walking knot of contradictions, with his ugly tie and slicked back hair, bearing the news that he, now, is Yuri’s new Watcher.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
Anteros by nanotrance, Explicit, 5.6k
“Like what you see?” he said, propping his chin on one hand, the other ghosting across his angled leg to draw attention to the fluid curve of his calf. Victor’s eyes, pupils blown wide, followed loyally. God, he could get used to this. “Well? You are going to answer me, right?” “Yes, yes, it’s amazing, you’re amazing—” Words tumbled from Victor’s mouth without reserve until Yuuri’s entire body flushed. “That’s enough,” he said, lifting a foot to gently close Victor’s jaw with the toe of a shoe. “I changed my mind. Show me how quiet you can be. Can you do that? Can you be good for me?”

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous and anonymous:
let it burn fast by jjdez, Teen, 13k (WIP)
Yuuri doubles over in laughter, effectively cutting off the man next to him. Victor looks down at the sticky countertop with red cheeks. “No, wait,” he gasps. “I’m s–sorry. I’m not laughing at you, I swear.” Yuuri wipes at his eyes before continuing. “It’s just, I’ve been asked to go home with so many sleazy old men tonight and the one man I would actually go home with just asked me to get out of here for milkshakes. I was just surprised, is all,” he looks at Victor with an unbelievably fond smile.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
Dreams and Reality by mitsui_tsuru, Not Rated, 5.7k (WIP)
The journey this time, he might have to do it alone. But as Yuuri begin to realize, he might never was…

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by @domokunrainbowkinz :
First Born by RoseusJaeger, Teen, 4k (WIP)
Victor Nikiforov is a lonely wizard who just wants a companion. Feeling he should find an excuse to retire from skating, Victor offers to heal Katsuki Yuuri’s ailing mother in exchange for his first born child.However… Yuuri turns out to be just as gay as he is and is now on a mission to find a woman to that will agree to help Yuuri keep his promise. (Mod note: I am grateful to live in an area that is not affected by the wildfire, thank you for your concern! <3)

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
Twitter War by KasumiChou, Gen, 21k (WIP)
Victor wakes up one morning to find that he lovely, beautiful fiancé, Yuuri Katsuki, had gone on a twitter rant the night before. A twitter rant about how wonderful he was. God, he was head-over-heels for this man.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by @mmeishi:
we’re after the same rainbows by missmichellebelle, Gen, 16k (WIP)
Summer camp is supposed to be sleeping bags under the stars, ghost stories around a campfire, overturned canoes in the lake, hikes that last all day, and friendships that last for a lifetime. Summer camp is not supposed to be finding your best friend and falling in love with him, but the summer after Yuuri turns 12, that’s what it becomes.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
under the starry sky i sing my love for you by vityuu (nanahoney), Gen, 1k
“And look - that’s the Little Dipper.”
“Where?” Yuuri squinted his eyes at the sky, shuffling about on the blanket they were laying on. Viktor was pointing somewhere up in the sky, at a patch of stars, that twinkled above them, but the more Yuuri squinted, less he could see what Victor was getting at.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
learn to love the skies I’m under by LinneaKou, Mature, 11k (WIP)
The day after the Sochi GPF banquet, Katsuki Yuuri disappears without a trace. The day after the Sochi GPF banquet, Viktor Nikiforov finds a stray poodle and takes it home with him.These two events are, oddly enough, connected.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by @frozencalamari:
Where the Cliff Greets the Sea by RobotSquid, Mature, 31k (WIP)
For years, Victor and his crew of pirates have been the bane of the coast, unmatched and elusive. With little left to satisfy him, he visits the small seaside town of Hasetsu, drawn by its simple charms. Yuuri lives a quiet life sewing and tailoring dresses with the unattainable dream of designing gowns of his own. Victor sees him working through the window of the dress shop, and decides to stay.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
Bad Apple by Multiple_Universes, Mature, 83k (WIP)
An AU were Yuuri is a very sarcastic bad boy and Victor is his very flustered and innocent coach.


Thank you for all your recs! ₍₍ (̨̡ ‾᷄♡‾᷅ )̧̢ ₎₎

The amazing “YOI Fan Rec Friday” banner was created by @omgkatsudonplease! I love them a lot, check out their blog!

Descendants 2

Descendants 2 had a lot of strong points but what this post is going to focus on is the character development in all of the characters.

Mal -

Obviously this movie focused a lot on Mal. She has grown a lot from the first movie but not in a healthy way. She developed some bad habits (spelling things and people) and developed some self image issues. This is a vast difference from our defiant and confident Mal from the first movie. While I don’t like the softer Mal that was shown, even closer to the end of the movie, I like that they explored these identity issues. By the end of the movie Mal has reconnected with her roots, her group and what made her want to change in the first place. I think it leaves us with a strong Mal with more room to grow in the right direction.

Evie -

THIS IS MY GIRL! Gonna be honest, I disliked her in the first movie cause she was a ditz but my girl has come a lonngggg way. Evie grew from a superficial girl into an incredibly smart, talented and confident lady. She has a booming design business and doesn’t take crap from anyone, and right beside her for these changes was her supportive boyfriend Doug. I love the dynamic they have because they are equal to each other, she is the strong one but he will still defend her to princes, he manages her business finances and supports her dreams. BUT she is not a dainty princess and he know he isn’t her “prince” but he is her knight. I will defend this ship with. My. Life. Also, she has a big heart and is fighting for the kids that she grew up with. She is going to be a great advocate for the isle.

Jay -

Jay came a long way from his rule breaking enthusiastic lifestyle. He even obeys the smallest (and more sexist) of rules. We also saw that he became less aggressive than before. It was curious to see him as a responsible captain, and it was very fitting. Through out the rest of the movie we got to see him step up as a leader when Mal was lacking or when something needed to be said. Like when everyone was arguing he calmed them down and when Mal and Evie were chatting about her hair, he took initiative to bring them together. Jay is a born leader and is doing the one thing his father, jafar, could not. Being successful and compassionate in a leadership position. In the end when he forfeits his title as captain to Lonnie(?) so she can join the team that is him doing what is best for the team. She is strong and they needed her. He sacrificed his title for the greater good and I hope that doesn’t go unnoticed.

Carlos -

Our shy boy came a long way as well. Carlos is a more outspoken and confident person. I don’t think he lacked confidence in the first movie but I believe he was more introverted, now we see a more open Carlos who stands his ground. For example, kicking Chad out of his room repeatedly. He is dismissing a prince and gives 0 cares. We also have a slight mention of how he programmed his 3D printer to have really cool hacks and such which references his special abilities with computers. Jay can be physical, Evie can be smart, Mal can be sly and Carlos can hack. This is important. Finally we see our boy finally ask Jane out. Tbh, I didn’t see it. BUT I am not against it. The little dorks make each other happy and they make each other stronger, for Carlos he has someone to protect and for Jane she has someone who makes her feel beautiful which is not to be under-estimated.

Jane -

Jane grew in a few notable ways. She became a more involved and outspoken person than the shy, squeaky girl from the first movie. Now she is coordinating big projects and making sure the schedule is kept to. BUT she is still insecure about herself and you can tell, even the way she thought Carlos wanted to go to the party as friends until he spelled it out for her is a sign of the insecurity. Carlos makes her feel beautiful and while that isn’t the best place to get a confidence boost it is still a wonderful development for a young girls self esteem to have someone like that.

Duke -

well, he/she learned English so that is pretty impressive.

Ben -

Ben was a goodie two-shoes in the first movie. While he developed a wicked streak in the second one, he NEVER abandoned his big heart, which is what truly makes him King Ben. He was trying to tackle the life struggles of ruling a kingdom, dealing with an engagement, helping the project areas and maintaining his grades. We know he had to quit his different sports teams because he didn’t have time, the time he spent with Mal dwindled to near nothing and we know he was overwhelmed. He never complained though. Ben is a strong character who is taking care of business and while he might not be the first to throw a punch he is powerful with words before fists, and he doesn’t let his girlfriend fight all his battles for him. In the end when he still trying to seek peace, preventing what could have been a catastrophic battle, he was doing his duty as a king. He put his life on the line. His biggest development in this movie was seeing the other side of things and understanding just how abused these kids were. It is one thing to hear about it and think you know, but he never really knew.  And Uma abusing his kindness and spelling him didn’t scare him away from continuing to seek justice for these kids. Ben is a good leader.

Lonnie -

In the first movie we never really got to explore her character. We saw that she wasn’t afraid of our lil’ villains and that she was still compassionate towards them but that was it. In this movie she is introduced as a threat. She is powerful and smart just like her mother, and she may be a love interest for Jay which is a perfect math. Talk about power couple, am I right?! I look forward to seeing more of her.

NEW CHARACTERS -

Uma -

You can see the results of abuse and bullying in her personality. All she is looking for is validation. This is the entire point of “Say my name”, she wants to be acknowledged. Her dwarf rats don’t really obey her, they still challenge her constantly and call her “Shrimpy”. While she has issues, there is room for change. I really hope Disney takes the opportunity to properly show kids/people how to interact with someone who comes from that abusive background.

Harry Hook -

Dang.. Uh, not gonna lie, I am so weak to this little out law. I was practically drooling over him, and when he tickled Ben my heart skipped a beat. I could ship that, I wont cause I will be lynched, but I could. I could see him being a bigger problem in the future. He has more of a cutthroat attitude than Uma and it is clear that him and Jay have bad blood. I hope we see much more of that delectable pirate. Gil - I bet you are one that gets to leave the isle. You don’t seem inherently bad, just kinda a dunce. Definitely room for improvement.