i see ppl already hating on dna and how it looks ‘cheap’ and theyre entitled 2 their own opinions n’ all but honestly bts’s next mv could be 4 minutes of jk playing the bongos recorded on an iphone 4 and made w windows movie maker and i’d still eat that shit and be fed for the next year tbh
Fuck this, Harry thinks, listening to the
rustle of Malfoy’s sheets as the insufferable git rolls over for what has to be
the fifth time in as many minutes. And fuck McGonagall for assigning Draco Malfoy,
of all people, to be his roommate. No wait, Harry immediately takes this back.
Even in his internal monologue he isn’t comfortable disrespecting McGonagall.
Still Malfoy is a nightmare to dorm
with. Merlin, Harry would much rather be having
a nightmare – at least then he’d actually be sleeping! Malfoy tosses and
turns all night. He gets up and
visits the bathroom two-three times every
night. What, does he have a
bladder the size of a peanut? It’s ridiculous.
All Harry wants is to sleep. All
Malfoy seems to do every night is make as much noise as possible. Harry
mentions it to Ron once at breakfast. Even though all the eight years have been
given new shared “houseless” dorms, thankfully they’re still allowed to sit at
their house tables. Harry is incredibly grateful for this. It’s bad enough
staying awake all night listening to Malfoy, he’d hate to have to put up with
him in the daylight as well.
“What the bloody hell are you
talking about?” Ron asks.
“He makes noises, Ron, in his bed. All night!” Harry explains, desperate for
someone to understand his frustration. It’s constant, night after night. Rustle rustle rustle.
Ron looks at Harry like he’s lost
his mind, a faint blush on his cheeks. Harry doesn’t bring it up again.
tired. So very tired. He can’t remember ever not feeling tired. It’s been so
long since he’s been able to really sleep. At least two years, maybe more.
Probably more. He thought things would change after the Battle of Hogwarts.
That Voldemort’s death would give him peace. But it hasn’t. Nothing seems to.
He doubts anything ever will.
night it’s the same. He lies in bed desperately willing himself to sleep, for
his body to give in and relax. But the relaxation never comes. Sure he gets
bits of rest here and there but it’s always fleeting, never enough. The morning
takes a lifetime to arrive and yet, somehow, it’s always too soon.
he studies late in the library. He pushes himself to remain for as long as
possible. What’s the point in going to bed anyway? Finally the exhaustion
becomes too much for him and he heads back to the dorm, all the while knowing
the exhaustion isn’t enough to grant him sleep. It never is.
is dark. Potter must already be in bed. He is surprised by how early all the eighth
years go to bed. In Slytherin lights out was always well after midnight.
Unfortunately, not many others from Slytherin have returned to Hogwarts to back
him up on this. So everyone seems to retire by 10pm every night.
stumbles around the dark room, trying to be quiet, his arm reaching out in
front of him searching for his bed pole to grasp, while his eyes adjust. There.
Using the bed post as a guide, he lets himself fall into bed.
Ah. His body crumples inwards,
pleased. It takes all Draco’s determination to keep his body upright throughout
the day when all he wants to do is collapse. His body craves for sleep all day
and then when he finally gets to bed, nothing. Yet another restless night.
Except today something feels different. His pillow is
softer somehow, his blanket warmer. There’s something else too. A strong, commanding scent he’s never noticed
before. He breathes in deeply and lets it wash over him. Grapefruit. Honey. Ginger. It’s comforting. And familiar. He takes
another breath. And another. His eyes close.
i lack self-control and there’s other shit i should be doing so it’s time for the first installment of
Let’s Read: Kraven the Hunter
Kraven the Hunter’s first appearance is The Amazing Spider-Man #15 from August 1964, written by Stan The Man himself, which is how you know it’s gonna be batshit. Every comic writer has strengths and weaknesses, and in many cases you kind of have to overlook those weaknesses to really enjoy the strengths.
Stan’s strength is also his weakness, which is that none of his plots ever make any goddamn sense and all his characters come off as weird assholes, and whenever you finish a comic you are left with a vague sense that literally everything that happened in that issue could have been avoided if they’d just stopped being weird assholes for five seconds.
Some writers attempt to remedy this later. Those writers are wrong.
Stan Lee still writes the newspaper comic strip version of Spider-Man, as far as I know, and for years I thought those strips were just nutso because Stan Lee was old and out of fucks to give. Then I read some old-ass comics and realized that Stan Lee is just Like That, and always has been.
He also writes credits like these.
If there is a space where a man can reasonably fit more words, Stan Lee will find more words to put there.
Early Spider-Man comics feature a lot of weird old-timey bank-robbing gangsters? Like, straight-up Dillinger Gang motherfuckers. So anyway the issue starts with some old-timey gangsters, bla bla bla, the Chameleon bla, curse you Spider-Man, etc. We don’t care about that part. What we care about is that the Chameleon (who is also, to be clear, kind of an old-timey gangster) decides he’s gonna call in Kraven the Hunter to solve his Spider-Man problem.
Here are the first things we learn about Kraven, in order:
He’s been in Africa, where he defeats terrorbeasts single-handed and with his bare hands.
He’s a fucking hunk.
“You know what the ladies love? Rectangles. I’m gonna build a man entirely out of rectangles. For the ladies.” - Ditko, presumably.
I was walking through a solid gold hallway and it opened up to this massive corridor where Yoda was playing the bongo drums to rave music and Lion king characters were dancing with Katniss everdeen. I walked to the solid gold fridge, high-fiving captain America in the process, and discovered that the only thing in the fridge was strawberry gogurt.
I feel bad for Steve, he’s probably minding his own business practicing playing the bongos or whatever and these two men pull up to his bridge and one of them’s shouting obscenities and the other’s threatening him with a water gun, and on top of that they get salt all over his bridge like christ dudes
- when keith was younger, shiro use to let him ride around on his shoulders
- they do the creepy thing where they talk at the same time
• lance: (yawns) morning everyone
• keith and shiro in unison: good morning, lance.
• lance, having a stroke: whwwayag
- they also share? thoughts????
• keith: hey shiro have you seen my tangle?
• shiro, at the same time: oh yeah btw keith i found your tangles earlier
• lance, on the floor: i hate this
- keith lent shiro his ipod for the kerberos mission and one day shiro finds it and is like “holy shit. guys, you have to listen to keith’s old music.” (lance, in the background: jesus christ is this sleeping with sirens)
- they started a band when keith was 7 and shiro was 16 but they broke up because even though shiro was the lead singer and keith played the drums (plastic bongos from toys r us), keith wanted to call it “keith and the cadets”
- keith can’t zip up jackets or button clothes up, shiro can’t tie his laces. they help each other. (neither can fold laundry, hunk freaks out about this)
- they have a secret handshake (i know this is a Bad example but think the handshake from the sister trap) but haven’t really done it since shiro got rescued. one day, after a really good mission, they just do it out of nowhere and everyone (including them) is like “holy shit” (hunk and lance try to learn it in private later on)
- they speak for each other. like allura will ask shiro if he wants to try something “similar to earth peppers” and before shiro can answer, keith says “depends. shiro hates green peppers, but loves anything spicy.” without even looking up. allura is confused, but shiro just nods.
- they’ve binge watched all of naruto at least three times together
(DONT TAG AS S/HALADIN OR SH/EITH YOU GROSS FUCKS)