this turned out really good if i do say so myself

the princess stayed in the tower and read books about better girls, where their hands learned how to hold swords, where they rode in on horses. i gave her books as often as i could. she devoured them.

her princes saw her and pretended to be scared off by dragons. got too lost in the thicket. didn’t want to handle it.

“tell me what it’s like, out there,” she whispers to me for the millionth time. i take her from The Throne into her bed, tucking her in and making sure her feet are covered. 

“boring without you” i say as always, “but i did bring back a great story.”

i tell her about how the stars change beyond the equator. how there are places it looks like there are twin suns. how the desert crawls into you but so does snow. i talk about the taste of fruit and promise to bring her back some. she falls asleep while i murmur about rivers, and then in the morning i bring her from bed to Throne, even though she can do it on her own. sometimes she likes help, is all, and i’m happy to give it. 

she doesn’t want help getting dressed. the men come for me, blindfold masters i have almost befriended. the path we take away from her is always different, carefully manufactured so i don’t know exactly where she’s located. after all, a lady might get ideas about things.

they let me go in the queen’s room. i report findings, ask for fruit in the next week’s supplies, am told not to spoil the princess, that she must be kind and waifish and wanting when the prince comes. i spend an hour suggesting that fruit might turn the blood sweeter and am allowed six oranges.

in the next week, she marvels over them. turns them in her calloused hands. smells them. holds them until she can’t control her curiosity, devours them. i bring her books about rivers. i bring her books about deserts. 

“when is our birthday?” she asks me tonight. i’m knitting her a scarf for it.

“soon,” i tell her, “i’ll come by.”

she rolls onto one side, looks up at me in the dimming light. “I’m glad they chose you to be mine,” she says, and i drop a stitch. my heart sings against the inside of my wrists. i blow out a candle so she can’t see the blush and i can’t see her lips. i know what she means, i say. i know what she means.

it’s twenty-three for both of us. i bring her a cake we both eat, her on her throne and me on the floor. i am in the middle of laughing when she falls silent in the still night. “nobody else ever comes for me,” she whispers. i say nothing.

we have more cake, we go to sleep. i don’t know if she knows i’m awake, but i hear her crying.

the men come, the men take me. the one that smells like cedar always laughs at my jokes. the queen half-hates me because i remind her of “that nasty thing” they forced on their daughter. 

“the left wheel needs oil,” i mention, “she’s having trouble turning again.”

the queen’s nose goes up. she never reacts when i mention her daughter’s wheelchair by name - doesn’t find it funny we call it a throne, thinks it’s well enough to leave alone.

“well, she’ll have a prince in this next month coming for her,” says the queen, “i’ve arranged it all,” says the queen, “he’s … had the situation explained to him first this time. i thought it would be best,” says the queen. “we’re paying him…. quite a lot for his effort,” says the queen.

situation. she means that her daughter can’t walk very far. she means the situation of towers. i excuse myself. i find my girl books about turning down marriage. i’m not sure why. it’s all she’s ever wanted.

they blindfold me and take me. cedar laughs at my jokes. the sawdust one is here this time, even he chuckles at a few. we ride horses through places i’ll never see clearly. 

“so according to the queen this is the last time i’m needed, huh?” i ask them as they walk me blindly up too many stairs for my girl to make it down, “i’m sorry i never made your acquaintance.”

cedar laughs. he takes off my blindfold and for a second, lets me see his face. “it’s been an honor,” he says, shaking my hand, “you’ve been a perfect lady.”

i spend the day with my princess pretending i am not peeling apart from my bones. i just want her to be happy. to get to come home. 

it’s late. “do you think in a past life i was a mermaid?” she asks.

“almost definitely,” i tell her. 

it’s quiet for a while after. “what if,” she whispers, “i don’t want to leave?”

i sit up and look at her from across the room. 

“it’s just,” she says, “i have you here and all the books i need and nobody makes me walk too long and i don’t feel like… like i’m wrong here.”

i want to tell her she’s never been wrong. that she’s always fit into my heart like a puzzle piece. that, more importantly, the leadership i see in her glows like a fire - that, no matter her body, she’s always been kind and gentle and smart and sweet. a princess that could bring a nation to her feet and do so lovingly.

“it will be okay,” i say, “there’s more fruit to discover.”

she doesn’t say anything. i think i’ve ruined something by accident, but i don’t know what. i don’t really sleep. i don’t say anything when the men come take me.

the world outside without her is boring. no mermaids. i put my hand in a river once a day, just thinking about her. 

two weeks later i am awoken by my name, and a voice i recognize perfectly. cedar stands above me in the darkness. “i know two things in this world,” he says to me, “and one of them is about love.”

this time we make the trip without blindfolds. i see the squalor they keep her in. i see the waste surrounding her castle, the terrible place she’s in. rage fuels my footsteps even when they start flagging. 

the prince is already there. he has dropped her twice, cedar tells me. i am already running up the stairs even though i can barely breathe. i hear her crying through the door and i don’t need to get ready - the fire that starts in me burns so brightly.

i roar inside. turn dragon and beat back prince with girl made rage. the bruises on her body turn me into giant snake. i eat the man alive, or at least i chase him from the place, never to be seen again. later i will hear a rumor about a demon that stole the princess from him.

she cries into my arms. i take her down every single stair. i hear her murmur her thanks into my hair and then i kiss her, because i can’t handle it, because i have places to show her and she has my heart to lead.

my house isn’t much but it’s near a river. she likes putting her hands into it. i take her places when she is able, and otherwise i bring the places back. we read books together. cedar no longer works for the queen, but he’d rather live with the man of sawdust making tiny wooden figurines.

i lie in bed next to her, stroking her soft hair. “do you think i was a centaur in a past life?” she asks.

“definitely,” i tell her, and kiss her, gently. she holds my face and pulls herself closer to me.

“will i be a good queen? i mean, in this life?”

“i’m certain of it,” i reply. i can hear the truth ring in it. the bone-deep certainty.

she’s quiet for a moment. “you saved me,” she whispers, “and usually we’d end up married. but…”

i don’t know how to answer that. i feel ice down my spine suddenly.

“i’m not demanding, is all,” her voice shakes, “i’m asking this time. for you to choose me. for me to be yours, i mean. and for you to be mine. permanently.”

the next birthday we celebrate, we are both queens.

Liz’s Party l Peter Parker

Summary: Spiderman shows up at Liz’s party to impress everyone, mostly the reader.

Warning: some spoilers

Pairing: Peter Parker (Spiderman) x reader

Type: Alternative scene (what would have happened if Peter showed up at Liz’s party as Spiderman to impress the reader…)

Part Two Here / Part Three Here / Part Four Here / Part Five Here


It was gym class and Ned was currently holding down Peter’s feet as he did sit ups. Ned had recently found out that Peter was Spiderman and was constantly asking his best friend questions about being an Avenger.

“Hey,” Ned piped up. “Can I be your guy in the chair?”

“What?” Peter whispered, not wanting to be too loud.

“You know there is a guy with a headset telling the other guy where to go. Like if you were stuck or lost somewhere, I could tell you where to go because there would be screens and monitors around me. And I could be your guy in the chair,” Ned pleaded.

“Ned, I don’t need a guy in the chair,” Peter insisted.

“Looking good, Parker,” the gym teacher said. Peter paused momentarily before continuing with his sit ups.

“You see for me it would be…f*ck Thor, marry Iron Man, and kill Hulk,” Betty Brant said from the bleachers.

“What about the Spiderman,” Y/N voice piped up, making all her friends on the bleachers look at her.

“It’s just Spiderman,” Liz shrugged.

“Did you guys see that big security cam on youtube? He fought off four guys!” Peter and Ned watched Y/N as she practically praised the Spiderman.

“Oh my gosh. She’s crushing on Spiderman,” Betty joked.

“No way!”

“Kinda,” Y/N shrugged, a blush creeping up onto her face. Peter glance at Ned then turned his attention back to the group.

“Ugh. Gross. He’s probably like thirty,” Betty said.

“You don’t even know what he looks like. What if he is like seriously burned?” Liz suggested.

“I wouldn’t care. I would still love him for the person he is on the inside,” Y/N replied. “He’s a good man and its obvious he really cares about this city. That is something I really admire about him.”

“Peter knows Spiderman,” Ned blurted. Peter’s mouth dropped open and he turned towards Ned. Everyone in the room went silent and all their eyes were on Peter, even Y/N’s.

“Uh, no I don’t,” Peter said, scrambling to his feet. “No. I-I mean.” He turned and faced Y/N and her friends.

“They’re friends,” Ned added with a smile on his face.

“Yeah, like coach Wilson and Captain America are friends,” Flash teased, now walking over to his rival.

“I-I’ve met him. Yeah, a couple times but its uh…through the Stark internship,” Peter clarified, briefly looking at Y/N. Flash seemed to be enjoying this for a smirk was evident on his face. “Mhmm. Yeah but I am not really suppose to talk about it,” Peter turned around, glaring at Ned.

“Well, that’s awesome,” Flash replied. “Hey, you know what? Maybe you should invite him to Liz’s party.”

“Yeah, I am having people over tonight. You are more than welcome to come,” she smiled.

“You’re having a party,” Ned asked.

“W-Will you be there Y/N?” Peter stuttered. Y/N looked up and nodded her head.

“Y-Yeah. I’m going.” Peter smiled shyly at her.

“Yeah, its gonna be dope. You should totally invite your personal friend Spiderman,” Flash insisted.

“Flash,” Y/N warned. “Leave him alone.”

“Ah come on. He’ll be there,” Flash spat. The bell rang and everyone stood to their feet and made their way towards the door. Peter watched Y/N stand, the two of them briefly met each other’s gaze before she broke it. She walked with her friends out of the gym, Peter’s eyes following her form.

Peter groaned in annoyance and look at Ned. “What are you doing?!?”

“Helping you out,” Ned said. “Did you not hear her? Y/N has a crush on you!” Peter opened his mouth to say something but nothing came. He couldn’t believe his childhood crush had a crush on him…well Spiderman. “Dude, you are an avenger!” Ned said, snapping Peter out of his thoughts. “If any one of us has a chance with Y/N, its you.” 

Y/N and Peter had known each other since grade school and had become pretty close friends. Peter developed his first crush on her but never had the guts to tell her. And here she was, years later, having a crush on Peter’s alter ego. It almost didn’t feel real to Peter. Was he hearing this right? Was she really in love with Spiderman?


That night, May drove Peter and Ned over to Liz’s house. May stopped the car in front of the house and nodded her head. “A house party in the suburbs! Oh, I remember these. I’m kinda jealous.”

“It will be a night to remember,” Ned said with excitement.

“Ned, some hats wear men. You wear that hat!”

“Yeah, it gives me confidence,” Ned grinned.

“This is a mistake,” Peter said, suddenly feeling nauseous. “Hey, let’s just go home.”

“Oh Peter. I know. I know its really hard trying to fit in with all the changes your body is going through,” Peter furrowed his eyebrows. “It’s flowering you.” Peter bit his lip and laughed slightly. 

“Okay, yeah. I’m gonna go,” Peter said, unbuckling his seatbelt. He exited the car, Ned following his actions.

“Peter,” May called. “Have fun.”

“I will,” Peter smiled.

“Bye May,” Ned waved as the car drove away. The two of them turned around and began walking up the sidewalk, towards the house. “Dude, you have the suit, right?” Peter lifted up his arm sleeve and showed him the web shooters and red costume. “This is going to change our lives!”

They entered the house, music blasting in the background and kids walking around with drinks in their hands. “DJ Flash,” the announcer said, making both the boys look over at the Flash operating the music.

“Okay, we are gonna have Spiderman swing in, say you guys are tight and then I get a fist bump or one of those half bro hugs,” Ned whispered to his best friend.

“Can’t believe you guys are at this lame party,” Michelle said, standing next to them.

“But…you’re here too,” Ned insisted.

“Am I?” Michelle walked off.

“Oh my–. Hey guys,” Y/N said. “Cool hat, Ned.”

“Hey Y/N,” Ned said with a silly grin on his face.

“Hey Y/N,” Peter’s voice squeaked.

“I’m glad you guys came,” she smiled. “There is pizza and drinks so go and help yourself.”

“Wow, what a great party,” Peter added with a smile.

“I barely did anything. It was all Liz.” Someone called her name and she turned her head. “Oh, I should go.”

“Yeah,” Peter nodded. She walked away and Ned said goodbye to her.

“Dude! What are you doing? She’s here, spider it up!”

“No. No. No. I can’t. I cannot do this. Spiderman is not a party trick,” Peter said. “Look, I am just gonna…be myself.”

“Peter, no one wants that.”

“Dude,” Peter said hurtfully. He turned to walk away when Flash called out his name on the microphone.

“Parker! What’s up? Hey, where is your pal, Spiderman? Let me guess, in Canada with your imaginary girlfriend?” The crowd laughed and Peter clenched his fists in anger. “That’s not Spiderman. That’s just Ned in a red shirt.”


Somehow, through peer pressure, Peter found himself outside. He disregarded his regular clothing and underneath it was his red and blue Spiderman outfit. He knelt down on the rooftop and gazed down at Liz’s house.

“Hey! What’s up? I am Spiderman,” he whispered to himself as he took off his shirt. “Just thought I would swing by, say hello to my buddy Peter. Oh hey, what’s up Ned? Where is Peter anyways?”

He sighed, looking down at Ned who stood awkwardly in the middle of the room. Peter shook his head.

“I can’t do this.” Peter noticed Y/N walk up to Ned and ask him a question. In response, Ned shrugged and she nodded her head before walking away. As soon as she was out of sight, Ned yanked out his phone and dialed Peter’s number. Peter answered it immediately.

“Peter! Where are you? Y/N’s asking for you,” Ned said, desperately.

“I will be there in a second.”

Originally posted by over-et

Peter hung up and gazed down at Y/N’s concerned face. She fiddled with her fingers and her eyes continued to wander around the room. Peter put his mask on and stood to his feet before swinging down.

“Oh sorry,” he apologized to some people. Everyone turned around to look at him and all mouth’s dropped open. He maneuvered his way through the crowd of people until he made it inside. “Sorry, I just gotta…find my friend Peter.”

“Spiderman?” He turned around at the sound of Y/N’s voice. His robotic eyes dilated and his head moved up and down her body. His actions did not go unnoticed by Y/N. “W-What are you doing here?”

“Oh, you know. Peter called me and asked if I could show.”

“No way,” Flash said in disbelief. He pushed past the crowd and soon came face to face with the superhero himself. “You’re really him? Are you really friends with Peter Parker?”

Peter turned his eyes towards Y/N who stood behind Flash. He pushed past his rival and approached her. “Hi,” he said awkwardly.

“Hi,” she smiled.

“What’s your name? Wait. No. Let me guess. Y/N, right?”

“Y-Yeah, how did you know?”

“Peter talks a lot about you,” Spiderman said.

“H-He does?” 

“Spiderman!” He turned around and faced Ned. “Hi! It’s Ned. Remember me?”

“Yeah I do. How are you doing?” He gave Ned his fist bump and the boy nearly collapsed when realizing he was going to be popular for the rest of his life.

“Fine. I’ll let you get back to Y/N. She’s a big fan,” Ned laughed. Peter turned his head and eyed Y/N.

“Really?” He teased and she looked down at her feet. 

“Well, kinda,” she replied, blushing like crazy. 

“Well, I should get going. New York isn’t going to save itself,” Spiderman said.

“Yeah,” Y/N added, dreamily admiring the superhero.

“It was nice to finally meet you. Oh and tell Peter that Mr Stark needs him at the internship at four thirty tomorrow,” Spiderman added. “Can you do that for me?”

Y/N nodded and Spiderman winked at her with his big eyes, making her smile. Spiderman used his web shooters and swung away from the party. He made his way back up to the rooftop when everyone had lost interest and began to change back into his normal clothes.

“I can’t believe he actually showed,” Flash said to Y/N.

“What’s the matter, Flash? Jealous of Peter or of Spiderman?”

TO BE CONTINUED…

Go Yuuri Go!!! staff comments

Translated by the amazing aki_the_geek on Twitter!

Please visit her account for more!

Katsuki Yuuri

Yamamoto: Many of YoI’s skaters were inspired by real-life people, and Yuuri is no exception.
In Yuuri’s case, I’ve heard about someone who is usually timid, lacks confidence and believes to be mentally weak, but once he steps on ice, turns into a competitive skater who wants the audience, the judges, and the viewers from all over the world to   look only at them. I found it to be a really interesting mentality and that’s where I got my idea for Yuuri from.
This Yuuri stands at the edge of the proverbial cliff - and then changes through his meeting with his hero and rival, Viktor. Thanks to this meeting, Yuuri himself starts reaching for more and more, grows stronger.
I find relationships with labels like “lovers” or “family” to be stifling, so I came up with these two characters that are not bound by names like that, who hold each other dear and who share a bond that would be difficult to replace.
As a skater Yuuri has an individual sense of rhythm, his steps his unique weapon, but even on a solid ground, he’s a great dancer. When he was young, Minako-sensei taught Yuuri the basics of ballet, and, as Viktor praises him highly, his skating feels like he is creating music with his body - it moves into dance on its own as he charms his audience.

Kubo: Yuuri is the kinda type of a glass-wearing character I draw often. (laughs) Many skaters have bad eyesight, and Yuuri too skates without his glasses. I though people would love the narrow-eyed, uneasy face he makes when trying to read his score, so I added that element, too.
I aimed for a design that would be easy for Hiramatsu to draw, so instead of deciding every detail, I drew a base that would later spring to life under Hiramatsu’s hands.
“Change” is an important aspect of Yuuri, so I gave him a seemingly ordinary appearance instead of making an easy-to-get pretty boy.
Yuuri is slightly taller than a typical Japanese person - that’s because both the director and I are around 165-170cm, and we though it’d be nice if he was taller than us. Yuuri’s eyebrows are in a  slanted ハ shape, but turn sharp when he competes. Things that are easier to explain via animation, like Yuuri’s hair growing longer as the show progresses, are also present.

Hiramatsu: I made sure he looks different during his chubby and slim phases. His best body shape would be right after “Onsen on Ice”.
We based Yuuri on a typical Japanese body: he doesn’t have long legs, wide shoulders or a spectacular butt, but going with Kubo’s drawings, I gave him long arms and bony hands. Yuuri grows about 10cm taller when he dons his skating shoes, which makes his legs look longer. Yuuri’s Japanese silhouette was influenced by Yasuhiko’s style, who was in charge of many of his scenes.

Viktor Nikiforov

Yamamoto: I think, surprisingly, there are many people like Viktor in the skating world (laughs). Viktor doesn’t care about what people around him think of him, he thinks it’s obvious that he is the center of all the attention. Viktor acts as he pleases and through it, he believes he brings joy to others.
I love it when characters like him appear out of the blue. In this case, Yuuri is the cause of Viktor’s sudden appearance. Yuuri barged into Viktor’s world that he closed himself in without noticing, believing he has to create all the new surprises. Yuuri offered Viktor a possibility he hadn’t thought about - becoming someone’s coach.
Unconsciously, Viktor is lonely, without anyone of similar circumstances, without anyone he could empathize together with. Viktor didn’t yearn for someone to understand him; he didn’t see it as a problem, but also didn’t realize how lonely he was. Yuuri is not the only one who became stronger by experiencing love - through Yuuri, Viktor learned new feelings and grew stronger.

Kubo: I challenged myself to create a character everyone would look at and find handsome, moreso than in my previous works. Viktor’s hair is silver, with some lighter streaks. At first I also thought about giving him a hair that looks silver, but once you see it from up close, turns out to be blond hair with many streaks of white hair. However, I couldn’t find enough information on how white hair grows on blondes so I gave up (laughs).
Thinking of balancing his height with Yuuri’s when they stand next to each other, I made Viktor slightly taller. I wanted Viktor’s face to be recognizable in gag scenes and so gave him a heart-shaped mouth. This is something straight out of the shojo manga era of “Tokimeki Tonight” or “Ohayo! Spank” (laughs).
I wanted there to be something unexpected in contrast to Viktor’s usual handsomeness. That aspect of him where he worries about his receding hairline, you know, where it goes slightly above the sweet spot? I wanted the viewers to watch it with a beating heart and confuse that feeling with falling in love. A suspension bridge effect. (haha)
I took heaps of inspiration for Viktor’s sexiness from Stephane Lambiel.

Hiramatsu: I paid attention to the flow and quality of his hair - and same goes for Yurio. Viktor’s eyebrows are straight, rarely ever turn into a mountain-like shape. Viktor’s posture is beautiful and adds to his brilliance; he sports a magnificent butt and long limbs.
Viktor has a confidence of an adult, but as someone still in his 20s, he can be quite childish. Viktor’s heart-shaped mouth was there in Kubo’s storyboards, which influenced the staff to emphasize that in the show.

Yuri Plisetsky

Yamamoto: Russia is a country where skating can change your life - the country supports its strong skaters. When I learned that some families bet on their children or grandchildren becoming famous and make them learn skating  I thought there must be many children with unrelenting spirit and a will to climb up - and created a deformed version of that in a form of a Russian badboy.
Yurio has many lines with swears, but there’s one in ep 10 that angered Viktor when Yurio implied he is now looking after a “pig”. This line goes back to my 20s - whenever I saw a pair wearing matching rings I’d think, “A pair of pigs tied with rings” (laughs). When I mentioned it to Kubo, she was like “Pigs! That’s good!” and we decided to put it in. Yurio is the only one with a potty mouth in the series, so coming up with his bad boy lines was fun.
Many growing skaters probably understand what Yurio said when he mentioned his time in his current body grows short. Girls change a lot during that period, but boys too have their muscles grow - it’s a big burden on the body that makes it impossible to perform some moves. We tried to put as many things that Yurio can only do now as we could into the show.

Kubo: There are many elements to Yurio’s design that make him popular, such as blond hair and blue eyes. He really does stand out. Looks-wise Yurio is probably most similar to Rabi from Madō King Granzort.
To quote the director, there are many elements from different skaters in Yurio. The base inspiration was Yulia Lipnitskaya. When I saw her at the rink, I realized there are many different kinds of skaters and that a more mischievous character could work too.
Yurio’s visuals were decided on early, earlier than Yuuri’s, as he is very anime-like, easy to animate. As story progresses, Yurio’s hair grows longer. I wanted to express how, when you haven’t seen him for a while, Yurio grows more and  more beautiful. Is it Lilia who styles his hair, or is it Yurio himself?

Hiramatsu: Half of his face is covered with hair, which strengthens his expressions. It was fun to give emotions to that slightly visible eye. Yurio’s body is slim, girlish, with long limbs and not much muscle.
I draw him as I would draw a girl. His looks were heavily influenced by Tatenaka’s style, who was in charge of many scenes as well as the skating of our model Honoka Kawanishi. Yurio has a potential to grow, outgrowing Yuuri and reaching 180cm or so.

Christophe Giacometti

Yamamoto: I wanted to create a character who would share popularity with Viktor, a character overflowing with masculine charm. I wanted Chris to have this showy sexiness in him like an ice dancer, so he’s one of the taller single skaters in the series. It was so difficult to show a sexy man type of a character, as there aren’t many visual symbols associated with it. I am hoping to one day establish a new frontier of male sexiness.

Hiramatsu: Chris has a sturdy body, and the most emphasized butt in the whole series. I poured all of my drawing skills into that scene where Chris grabs and lifts his butt while skating. (laughs) Until halfway both his arms and butt are raised, and then arms go up, butt goes down, which is how I showed the butt’s bounciness.

Phichit Chulanont

Yamamoto: Yuuri is friends with Phichit because even if Yuuri doesn’t go to him, Phichit will come to Yuuri on his own. Yuuri doesn’t have to be suspicious of Phichit’s motives and he doesn’t show customary concern over him like Japanese people do which in turn is less stressful for Yuuri.

Jean-Jacques Leroy

Yamamoto: I created JJ because I wanted a character type that falls into a “mentally a musclehead” category. JJ entered Toronto University as a top student, off season participates in charity activities. His girlfriend is his HS classmate, but as a devout Christian, premarital sex is a no-no - they’re in a pure relationship.
He often says JJ this, JJ that in conversations and in general only talks about himself. Even if he nods with understanding as someone speaks, he soon butts in and changes the topic to himself.
JJ talked to Otabek in ep10 because he found it sad that his old rinkmate was alone - couldn’t leave him out of kindness of his heart. Even when people find him overbearing, JJ believes he is doing a good deed, so it doesn’t bother him.

Hiramatsu: JJ could be considered a good catch if he just shut up. (laughs)

Otabek Altin

Yamamoto: First, I wanted a Kazakh skater to be a dark horse of the GPF and that’s how Otabek was born. There are many Russians in Kazakhstan and Russian is the official language so I thought Otabek could easily be friends with Yurio. Some Kazakh skaters are known to train in Russia, so the bit where Otabek participated in Yakov’s camp and became fascinated with Yurio came to me naturally. We created many qualities that Yurio finds cool in Otabek outside of skating  - such as riding a bike and DJing. 

Lee Seunggil

Yamamoto: All Seung-Gil does is training, and has no interest in things beyond skating. To create a contrast with his personality, for his SP, I went with a passionate mambo. The idea to have him count his score as he skates during competition came from Kubo.

Hiramatsu: Because of his personality, I always draw him alone in the back of group images, but he still looks into the camera. (laughs)

Michele Crispino

Yamamoto: To protect his sis, Michele tries to be threatening to scare off others. This doesn’t work on Emil, so they’re on good terms. 

Kubo: As an Italian who cares about appearance, I made him look like he visits a hairdresser once every two weeks. But I also wanted to add something non-Italian to him, hence the pretty dark personality.

Hiramatsu: Michele also would be a good catch if he shut up.

Emil Nekola

Yamamoto: Emil is rarely scared and there is nothing two-faced about his personality; he doesn’t feel too down when he makes mistakes which means he can still grow and become strong.

Kubo: I googled “Czech, male” and based Emil on one of the first pictures I found. At the beginning Yamamoto was talking about making Emil the most handsome out of the European skaters, but I completely forgot. (haha)

anonymous asked:

MORE HEADCANONS!!! please?

You guys are lucky I have like, a mega list of these lol.

  • Lance sleeps like a corpse.
    • It was something he sort of trained himself to do, mostly because the first time he tried using a face mask at night it got everywhere and his mother nearly skinned him alive
    • so yeah, he’s a log, and will tend to stay in one place on the bed from dusk to dawn
    • Keith on the other hand, tosses and turns like the rugrat he is
    • He’ll wake up with his sheets halfway off the bed and his pillows thrown across the room wondering why he has a huge kink in his neck.
      • oh yeah, because he slept with it hanging over the edge of the bed (-_-)
    • Needless to say their first night sleeping in the same bed starts off great, with Lance relishing in having Keith curl up into his side like a little koala, and they both fall asleep fairly easily
    • but then Keith happens.
      • Lance wakes up in the middle of the night wondering groggily why Keith’s fucking foot is on the pillow and where the hell is his other half?!
      • And, Oh there it is. On the floor. 
      • Like seriously Keith how is that even comfortable you human slinky.
    • so Lance hoists him back up, shifts so that Keith is on the inside of the bed facing the wall, and wraps his limbs around the boy to keep him secure
    • It works, for the most part, but Lance wakes up the next morning without any feeling whatsoever in his arms and legs
      • he doesn’t mind too much though, because goddamn Keith is really cute in the morning
        • Plus Keith feels super bad about waking Lance up and sort of..coddles Lance all day afterwards.
      • so yeah, Lance doesn’t mind at all.
  • Keith is really good a naming smells
    • Like…scary good
    • The team will be walking around on some weird ass planet and Keith will just, without batting an eye, drop a line like:
      • the air smells like wet cotton candy mixed with spit.
      • And the others can’t even be mad because what the fuck it actually does?! 
    • It’s like his superpower or something, and there has yet to be an odour Keith can’t name, or at least relate to something else
      • K: Lance your hair smells like pine tree sap and wet dirt
      • L: …is that a good thing?
      • K: yeah.
      • L: Oh! Okay then!
    • Shiro is actually the one that asks him to stop the most
    • mostly because he grew up with this shit and so many things have been ruined for him
    • like, one time Keith said his hair gel smelled like freshly opened packaged meat, and he’s never recovered
  • Keith is also hella good with kids
    • No one really knows why, but youngsters just flock towards him
    • Hunk calls him the Pied Piper of Children and it would be cute if it wasn’t so goddamn true
    • Every planet they visit that has kids on it immediately run up to Keith, or else hold his hand or cling to his legs.
    • he’s just as confused as the others because I’m not even fun! I just stand here!
      • Lance was super jealous at first, because I have the siblings, so I should be the one who these children worship. and I’m more experienced, why do they love Keith?!
        • It must be the mullet.
      • But after they start dating Lance just finds it adorable, and has to stifle a part of him that really wants kids of his own one day each time he sees Keith bend to pick up a young’un
    • The others tease him relentlessly whenever they see him watching Keith interact with babies. 
      • Lance you’re making the face again
      • L: What face?
      • The ‘I’m so madly in love with Keith’ face
      • L: I’m not!
        • He is.
  • Lance speaks Spanish around the castle
    • At first it was just for fun, singing lyrics and what not
    • but after having a reoccurring nightmare about never seeing his family again, he sort of does it now to try and keep his language alive
      • The other’s don’t really know why Lance has suddenly started speaking strictly in Spanish to Blue, but don’t question it
      • Keith does, because he’s curious, and Lance tells him the reason behind it
        • After that Keith makes an effort to learn some Spanish phrases that he surprises Lance 
        • Lance cries.
          • He denies it, but he did.
        • Keith comforted him, and there was a lot of cuddling involved.
  • Lance’s favourite colour, despite popular belief, is not actually blue
    • It’s grey
      • Like the colour of thunderstorms and rain
      • Or waves as they lap the beach when it’s overcast out
        • Or Keith’s eyes in certain lighting…
      • Not many people know this, except Hunk and Keith, simply because it’s not something he tends to share
      • But Keith makes a point of beginning to collect pictures of storms and oceans from Earth specialty shops whenever they visit alien malls 
        • Lance keeps them all pinned up by his headboard, where he’ll sit and stare at them on days when he’s feeling extra gloomy about missing Earth
        • And if Keith’s with him, he’ll turn off the light and just gaze into his eyes, watching as they shift from a dark indigo to a heavy grey as the shadows play with his irises
      • That usually doesn’t last long though, since they end up making out, both thinking god why is he so attractive! as they let their lips do the talking

Again, stopping myself here. Some of these made their way into one of my fics….

Reaper: Chapter Two

His hand was warm.

Isa pulled me to my feet. “Just a second,” he said, scanning the area.

I didn’t feel dead. I could feel the wind on my skin and my heart hammering in my chest. My hands were trembling with adrenaline. That had to be a good sign.

“Kat,” Isa said, startling me. I had been staring at my hands so intently that I hadn’t noticed he was holding out his hand to me again.

“I’m not dead,” I informed him a bit giddily, taking his hand again.

Isa didn’t smile, but the corners of his eyes crinkled. “This way,” he said, pointing with his free hand. I looked, but he seemed to be pointing towards thin air.

He led me away from the broken highway and my silver car, wading through the faded brown grass. After about twenty yards he stopped and turned to me.

“I need you to think of a place,” he said, “Any place.”

My mind went blank. “Any place?”

“Anywhere. Visualize it in your mind. Got it?” I hesitated before nodding. “Good. Now we’re going to take one more step together.”

I looked at the grass before us. It didn’t look any different from any other patch of grass we’d passed. I drew a deep breath.

“Okay.”

“And go.”

As we stepped forward together, the air went…soft. Like a deep, thick mattress. Like holding an overripe peach in your hands and slowly pressing in your thumbs, letting them sink into it. Not hot or cold or anything like that. Just soft.

Less than a moment passed before the softness was gone; I didn’t even have time to blink. We were still standing in the grass by the highway. I could see my car close by and the mountains looming in the distance. But the edges of the mountains were vague and unclear, and the light that filtered through the clouds was tinted red, almost as though it was shining through rose-colored glass. More telling was the quiet. The wind had disappeared, and the grass was silent and still.

“You know,” Isa commented, “I think people usually choose somewhere other than the place they’re currently standing.”

“I panicked,” I responded, taking in everything around me, “Which seems to be my basic state of existence at this point.”

Unlike everything else, Isa seemed more real than ever. The basics were still the same: pale, ashy skin stretched tight over his body, white hair, and jet black eyes set deep in their sockets. His fingers and limbs were overly long for his body, and he was wearing a black hooded coat with loose sleeves, grey pants, boots, and a t-shirt with a vintage ad for spam.

However, his skin lacked the translucent quality it usually had, and his shadow -

“You have a shadow,” I blurted out, “You have a - the grass. You’re actually crushing down the grass.” I knelt down and confirmed for myself that yes, the grass could be pressed down, and then I turned around and thrust out my hand. The softness was waiting just feet behind me. “Where are we?”

“This is an inbetween place,” he replied, watching as I shuffled a few feet to the side and stuck out my hand again, “We needed somewhere safe to talk.”

I pulled my hand from the softness and tried again. “And the deserted highway wasn’t cutting it?”

Isa pressed his lips together. “It’s not humans that I’m worried about overhearing us.”

I paused mid thrust. “Oh.” The fear which had almost been forgotten in my wonder flared up.

“Here,” Isa said, and he took my hand again, leading me around whatever invisible portal we had passed through. Almost mindlessly I walked towards the car.

“Are we safe here, then?”

He shrugged. “Should be. I don’t think I was followed - there’s no good reason anyone would, really, I’m not a major player. But it’s not wise to talk about these things in the open on principle.”

We reached the car, and I stretched out my hand to touch it. It was solid under my fingers, but the numbers on the license plate were scrambled, changing every time I blinked. 

Isa stopped me as I went to open the driver’s side door.

"I just wanted to see if it would start,” I said.

Isa shook his head. “It might, but it’s not wise to go through any doors here. There’s no telling where you might end up.”

A little disappointed, I perched on the trunk instead, pulling up my legs and wrapping my arms around them. Isa stood before me, hands shoved in his pockets.

“So…” I started, Isa looking at me expectantly, “Are you an angel?”

Isa burst out laughing. It was an odd sound, out of place in the unnatural silence of the inbetween.

“No, and I wouldn’t let an angel hear you say that if I were you. Actually, it would probably be fine; most angels I’ve met are quite nice. But trust me, if you ever meet an angel, you’ll know it. People tend to fall over when they show up.”

“Okay, not an angel.” There went half the theories I’d ever read. “Then what are you? And don’t say a reaper.”

“I never really liked that name anyway,” he replied. He kicked the ground for a moment, thinking. “I’m the guardian of your soul. I’ve been with you since your soul first joined your body. I will ensure no one touches it until your life is complete.”

“…And when my life is complete?”

“I take your soul,” he answered nonchalantly, “ - Kat?”

I rolled off the car, running into the field, running towards the softness.

Maybe he wasn’t an angel after all. But there were other theories about the reapers.

“Kat?” he called after me, “I’m not taking your soul here and now.”

I stumbled to a stop in a panic. The grass all looked the same. Whatever gateway we’d walked through wasn’t marked by any kind of visual cue. I was effectively trapped.

“Maybe you’re not taking it now,” I said as I turned, arms tight by my sides, hands clenched, “but you’re going to.”

Isa walked towards me slowly, “That probably wasn’t the best way for me to phrase that.” I shrank away from him instinctively, and he sighed. “This would be easier if I was an angel. They’re good at explaining things. Can I try again?”

He waited until I nodded hesitantly.

“I’m the guardian of your soul. I was bound to you the moment your soul entered your body. While you live, I’ll protect your soul from harm. When your days are complete, I’ll carry your soul to its rest. I’m not going to kill you, consume your soul, drain your life force, steal your corporeal form,  keep you in a tortured disembodied state devoid of all sensation, or anything else of that kind.”

I stared at him. “That’s…really specific.”

“But you’re not running this time,” Isa noted.

“If you’re lying, I’m screwed anyway,” I retorted.

“Ah.” Isa’s body seemed to droop ever so slightly. “I liked it better when you just trusted me.”

“And I liked it better when I wasn’t afraid I was going crazy,” I snapped. I shut my eyes and paused, willing myself to breath deeply. “I’m tired. I’m stressed and exhausted and I have no clue what’s going on. You disappeared for two weeks and I didn’t even know reapers could do that, and now you’re talking and you touched me and I’m somehow not dead and we’re in a freaking alternate dimension or something and it’s just a bit much.”

“I didn’t intend to let things get this out of hand,” Isa admitted, “I only thought I’d be gone for a few hours at most.”

Finally, the question that had been burning in my chest for weeks. “What happened? Why did you leave?”

“There was a reaper who needed help. He and his human were being targeted, and they weren’t going to make it.”

“Are they okay?”

His face brightened a bit. “They are. The woman died and he was able to deliver her soul safely.”

“Your definition of a happy ending and mine are a little different,” I muttered, “What did they need protection from?”

Isa looked grim. “There are many beings who would want to misuse a human soul,” he said softly, “And there are others who would like nothing more than to see a reaper give into the temptation to take advantage of their charge. Some of these were attacking this reaper in the hope of either claiming the soul for themselves or, if nothing else, forcing the reaper into a position where he drew on the soul for power. I thought they’d back off once I came to his aid, but they fought until the end.”

Behind Isa’s shoulder, I saw something like a dark smudge on the horizon where the mountains met the sky. A horrible sense of wrongness settled in my gut.

“I didn’t mean to leave you for so long,” he continued, “And it shouldn’t -”

“Isa,” I interrupted, pointing urgently, “There’s something here.”

Isa turned to look. The smudge was getting larger. “No,” he said, “No no no no!” He grabbed my hand.

“We need to move now!” He took off across the field, dragging me behind him. We passed through the softness and the world shifted, the rosy light turning grey. We sprinted back to my car.

I looked back towards the mountains. I couldn’t see anything.

“Get in the car,” Isa ordered, and I hurried to do so. After buckling myself in, I looked up to see Isa pull out a gun.

“Drive home as fast as you can,” he said, ignoring my shock, “And don’t stop until I say so.” With that, he swung himself onto the roof of my car.

I turned on the car and made a U-turn, pressing the pedal to the floor. A minute later gun shots rang out, and I looked into the mirror to see something burst through the portal and hurtle down the broken highway in pursuit.

Imagine your boss, Dean Winchester, flirting with you every time he can.

“And last but far from least-” you let a small sigh, looking at the door in case someone was coming “Mr Fury asked to see you.”

“Fury? As in Nick Fury?” Dean raised and eyebrow, his interest peaking.

“Exactly. It either has to do with the damage you and Mr Stark caused on your small trip around town or-”

Dean chuckled, leaning back in his chair “Come on (Y/n), we were drunk!”

“That does not justify it. On the contrary, it was reckless to go take his suits while being drunk.” you said with a pointed look and his smile turned into a softer one.

“You know-” he leaned forward so that he was closer to you “I love it when you care so much about me.”

“Mr Winchester.” you scolded softly, not meeting his eyes but still unable to hide a small smile from your face.

“I thought that by now we had agreed on that, sweetheart. It’s Dean.” he said, sounding a little disappointed.

“You know that can’t happen, Mr Winchester.” you mumbled, starting to place all of his files in place. Anything to keep you occupied from looking him in the eyes “I’m your assistant.”

“Well then we can arrange that. I could always fire you.” he gave you a cheeky grin as with wide eyes your head snapped to him.

“What?” you stood there frozen for a second until he started laughing at your expression.

“Just kidding. There’s no way on Earth I would fire my most trusted worker.” he shook his head “Besides, this enterprises would crumble down without you here to be honest.”

“Glad you appreciate my job then, Mr Winchester.” you chuckled with a small sigh of relief, shaking your head at your boss.

He rolled his eyes for a moment “That’s just not going to go away easily, is it?” he huffed, almost disappointed and you bit the inside of your cheek; still not looking at him.

“Wish it could.” you mumbled and saw him from the corner of your eye get up and walk towards you.

“You know it can-” you almost jumped at how close he had gotten without you realizing it, his breath only fanning over your cheek and his hand on your back “It’s all up to you.”

“Mr Winchester please-” you glanced at the door nervously “Someone might walk in. I just- I don’t want them to think I am taking advantage of-”

“Of who? Me? Sweetheart by all means, do so.” he gave you a boyish grin and you couldn’t stop a chuckle at his words, shaking your head.

“No. Of the time I spend with you. I- I worked hard to get this position.”

“I know, I saw it for myself.” he frowned slightly “That’s why you got the promotion.”

“Yeah, well if they see us like this they’re not going to think exactly that Mr Winchester. I don’t want people to assume I am here because I am sleeping with my boss.” you placed a hand on his chest, regretting it but still pushing him away. You couldn’t even dare look him in the eyes, you couldn’t take the heartbroken look on his face.

“But they don’t have to see us, if that’s the problem.” he suggested after a long pause and you frowned.

“What?”

“I mean if that’s what you’re most scared of- we don’t really have to tell everyone. Let them find out on our wedding day.” he added with a wink and you couldn’t help but giggle at him.

“Mr Winchester-” you started with a small whine but you knew you didn’t have an excuse good enough. Honestly you were mostly trying to convince yourself that you couldn’t be with him than him in the first place. Besides, it was your own feelings you had been battling with mostly these days than your boss’s advances and flirty remarks.

“Come on, just give me a chance. You’ll see I’m not that bad!” he threw his arms in the air and you bit your lip.

“Mr-” you stopped yourself “Dean, I know you’re not.” you confessed looking him in the eyes “And I know that if the circumstances were different- I wouldn’t have hesitated for a second. Especially after such a surprise.” you added with a chuckle and he grinned.

“You like them?” he remembered the flowers he had sent to your apartment. One of his many attempts in getting you “Took my brother’s advice in it.”

“The flowers were amazing, really.” you admitted “But I was mostly referring to the sweets, especially the pie.”

“Well, that one was my idea actually.” he confessed, full of pride and you giggled.

“Oh I bet!” you shook your head with a laugh.

“Say-” he spoke up, a hand again being placed on your back “How about I take you out… for pie and burgers and we can make a fresh start?”

“Dean” you sighed “You’re not going to give up, are you?”

“Hell to no.” he confessed.

“May I ask you- why are you so interested in me? Up until a few months ago I was just one of the secretaries until I became your personal assistant. But still- nothing more.” you dared look him in the eyes, only to see confusion written all over his face.

“I think we’ve made it clear that you got this position because you are the only one that actually puts effort into their work. Plus, you’re the only one that knows me so well and doesn’t dress up on purpose to show off and turn me on.” he shrugged, before pressing you close to him “That happens either way.” he added and you rolled your eyes at his cheekiness.

“I’m only wearing a white blouse and pencil shirt.” you mumbled.

“As I said- too fucking hot.” he growled almost in your ear and for the first time you let him kiss your cheek without you pushing him away.

“Dean” the way his name left your lips was definitely something you weren’t planning on.

Dean grinned widely “See? Already getting there-” he licked his lips “Do you really want to know why I am so interested in you?” he said in a low rough voice “Because you’re special. Because every morning you have walked in my office, hair a mess, no make up on and clothes a little a little wrinkled with a few buttons undone-” he paused for a moment, his eyes roaming your body “I can only think of how gorgeous you look, and how I’d love to see this sight every fucking morning. Especially after an intense night of-” he paused grinning up at you, only to see a hint of red on your cheeks.

“Gosh I would so love that.” he breathed out huskily, his breath tingling your lips as his face stood only a few inches away from yours.

“I’m- I’m not that-”

“I swear to god, if you complete that sentence I am just going to grab you and prove you wrong right here and now in any way you can imagine.” he said with a slight growl and you swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling yourself shiver when his hands started traveling. You couldn’t deny you liked it a little too much.

“Do you even know the things you do to me when you lean over my desk?” he whispered, resting his forehead on the side of your head; his lips brushing past your ear “With those tight, black skirts. I’ve had such a fucking hard time concentrating during meetings just because of you. You don’t even have to touch me, hell not even say something and I know I am a goner. I can’t think straight when you are in the same room. And gosh, you’re not even doing it on purpose. You’re so clueless.” he grinned “So adorably clueless.”

“Mr Winchester” you whispered, fisting his suit jacket in your hand.

“And the way you say that- I hated it so much at first, it felt like you put a wall between us. I still do but at the same time-it sounds so innocent, so unintentional that you can’t realize how cute and hot it sounds at the same time.” he chuckled and you bit your lip.

“And as if all of that is not enough you- you are such an amazing woman. You actually listen to me when I need it, you try to understand me and you- you love rock too. You listen to me ramble about my car when my own brother always tries to make me shut up when I do. You actually know so much about me, every side of me, that no other woman I’ve been with has ever known. And that’s only because you are the one interested.”

“I can’t help it you know.” you whispered, looking at him through your eyelashes.

“I know. Trust me baby, I know.” he breathed out, cupping your face and before you had the time to react he crashed his lips to yours.

Insecure (Peter Parker x Reader)


Authors note: this was requested by the lovley @signethatsmelol, also I hate myself bc I turned my precious babies against each other for the sake of fiction

Warning(s): some swearing, violence, angst BUT DW BC FLUFF AT THE END

Something was wrong. Seriously wrong. Maybe it was the unusual silence of the school halls after class or the fact that Peter hadn’t come to find you but something was definitely up.

You frowned as you made your way to your locker, your boyfriend of a year nowhere to be seen.  Opening it up, you loaded in your calculus textbook and a few other things before heading your academic decathlon club. You often found yourself looking forward to your team meets as you’d get to spend more time with your boyfriend, Peter and best friend, Flash.

You’d actually met Peter through Flash, when you’d first joined Midtown high. Flash had been your ‘tour’ guide as such, and he was extremely sweet towards you, he’d made you feel comfortable with the move to a new high school and even invited you to the team’s first meet of the year, although he was very flirtatious and you weren’t into that. Peter had joined the meet a little later than it had started because of his Stark internship and it was pretty much love at first sight from then on.

You’d grown to love his little stammer every time he talked to you, and that blush that spread from his cheeks to his neck every time you held his hand in public. You could even say you loved Peter Parker . That’s why you were so worried when he hadn’t come to meet you, the pair of you were inseparable so you knew something was wrong.

You were pulled out of your thoughts as your friend Michelle came running towards you, panic etched across her features. “Michelle?” You asked, turning from your locker to face her, concern stitched into your voice. She was hunched over, hands gripping  her knees as she struggled to catch her breath.

“I-it’s Peter” she began, drawing herself upwards. “He’s gotten into another fight”

Your eyes widened as she spoken, you slammed your locker shut as the curly haired girl lead you towards the fight. Within a matter of minutes, you found yourself behind a large gathering of people, formed into a circle. People were cheering and filming the ordeal. Hurriedly, you pushed your way through the bands of people, trying to get a better look at the scene.

“Excuse me, sorry. Pardon me”

What you saw after weaving your way through the crowds made your heart drop. Your friend, Flash and your boyfriend Peter.

They were currently standing opposite each other, faces swollen and bruised. Flash had clearly gotten the brute end of it, and looked like he was on his last legs. Peter on the other hand looked significantly less injured and you knew in that moment he had been the one to start the fight. You knew Flash had picked on Peter, that’s what made it hard to maintain your friendship with him but you never thought Peter would lash out on him like this.

“Say that again, I dare you” you heard Peter spit, bouncing his fist up and down menacingly. Through the pain, you could see Flash draw his lips into a cruel smirk.

“She doesn’t want you, she never has. She’s only with you to get back at me”

That was all it took for Peter to launch himself at Flash, you covered your eyes and bit your now quivering lip, as you heard the pair’s grunts of pain. You knew know that this wasn’t some stupid spat between boys.

This was about you.

Opening your eyes, you rushed out into the circle, the cheers from the crowd only sky rocketing. At this point, both boys were at either side of the circle, you rushed between them in an attempt to stop the violence. “Stop it!” You yelled breathlessly, looking between them. “Just stop it! You’re hurting each other!”

Both boys fixed their posture before looking at you. You stared Peter down, meeting his gaze with a confused look, you could see the guilt swirling in his eyes. Your attention was stolen, when Flash begun to speak up. “Get outta the way (Y/N), I gotta let this punk have it

Don’t talk to her like that” Peter seethed back. You shook your head, begging yourself not to cry as the two boys you cared about glared and growled at each other. You could see that Peter was tired and could tell that he was feeling guilty.

“Leave it Flash” you called out as he tried to advance. You turned to your boyfriend and grabbed him then by the wrist trying to get him out of there. You pulled him into a guest toilet and locked the door behind you. You sat him down on the lid of the toilet,  grabbing some tissue and running it under some cold water before pressing the compress to his bruised knuckles.

“What the fuck was that Peter?” You said, as you worked in silence. Peter could only watch as you moved about, making more compresses for his cuts before they bruised.

“I’m sorry” the brunette boy whispered, not meeting your eyes as you inspected his face. You paused, looking into his chocolatey orbs, anger swirling in them.

You’re sorry?!” You yelled, your calm facade breaking down. This wasn’t the first time Peter had gotten into a fight over you, in fact, they’d been happening a lot more recently. You’ve never mentioned it to him before, at first you thought he was being over protective, but now you could tell it was much more serious. “Sorry doesn’t cut it Peter! Do you know how many times I’ve had to pull you out of these situations? Do you know how many times I’ve had to save your ass from being beaten into the ground? Do you know how much that scares me? I don’t know what’s going on with you Peter but you need to sort this out.”

Your boyfriend flinched at every word you spoke, as if he was being

sprayed by acid. He knew what you were saying was true, but he couldn’t help it.

“Peter, I love you!” You cried out, as he gazed at you intently. “But you can’t keep fighting people over me! Flash is one of my best friends, and to see you both almost kill each other out there breaks my heart! I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but if it keeps happening, I don’t know if I can stay”

This time, Peter’s head snapped up, looking you directly in the eyes. “W-what are you - are you saying?” he whispered, voice low and uneven. He was standing now, and you could see his body shaking.

“I’m saying that maybe…” you sighed, backing away from Peter. “We should…take a break?”

“No!“Peter practically screamed, his voice cracking as he did so.

In the dim light of the bathroom, you could see his eyes glaze over as his body begun to shake. “P-please”

Peter…

“I meant it when I said I was sorry” he tried, his voice betraying him. “I don’t know what came over me, F-flash was just saying these awful things about you, a-about us and I began to doubt myself”

You neared your sobbing boyfriend, immediately feeling guilting for suggesting that you end things. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling his head down to rest on your shoulder as he cried. “T-they say I don’t deserve you, all the guys. T-they say you’re too good for me… and it’s true”.

You stroked his hair softly as he let out his emotions. You never knew that he’d felt this way, that this could have ever been the reason for his outbreak. That Peter Parker was insecure.

Baby no” you whispered but he didn’t stop there.

“You’re the kindest and sweetest soul and I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you. You’ve been with me through everything and I-I’m just… Peter” he hiccuped, pulling away from you with bleary eyes. “P-please don’t leave me, you’re everything I have”

“Peter…” you sighed, holding him close until he’d calmed down. “I-I’ll never leave you, I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry”. You clung to him, trying to tell him that you were there and that you weren’t ever going to let go, you cursed yourself for being such a terrible girlfriend. When you both pulled away, you looked up at Peter, feeling his love for you radiate off of his body. You stood on your tip toes and slowly pressed your lips to his, the taste of his cherry lip balm invading your tongue. His warm and familiar hands snaked their way around your waste, pulling you closer to him. You gripped the collar of his plaid shirt from under his jumper and tugged him towards you, wanting to be as close to him  as possible, wanting him to feel the love you had for him. All of Peter’s insecurities melted away in that moment, he knew that you would never leave him, he knew that you loved him and that none of the other guys meant anything to you, not even Flash.

When you’d both come up for air, a small smile graced your lips. Peter returned your smile, going to bury his head in the crook of your neck again. “I’m so in love with you” he whispered against the  skin of your neck.

“I love you too Pete”

You both stood in silence, holding each other, the only sounds being made were your giggles as Peter pressed kisses to your neck. “I really am sorry about Flash though, I know how much he means to you” Peter spoke, after a few moments.

You rolled your eyes, before ruffling Peter’s hair. “He was an asshole anyways, you’re all that I care about”

You both laughed before you pressed a quick kiss to Peter’s lips, making him blush. “Now we should probably get out of here before people think we’re up to something” you winked at him playfully , as he shook his head at your antics.

Peter only let out a laugh as you pulled away to unlock  the door. You  grinned back at him, admiring his smile, and the way it reached his eyes. You really loved Peter and god help anyone that tried to make your baby insecure again.

Yet another from this long list of prompts, completely unprompted.

Number Twelve: “I’m pregnant.”


The text came in at 7:17am, and in the mean time, Stiles had made his way through four and a half breakdowns, all of them for different reasons.

Number One: Male werewolves could get pregnant, and tying into that:

Number Two: Derek had never found it relevant to their two year relationship to share this fun fact. That didn’t say much as to his thoughts on their future together, which stung.

Number Three: Stiles was going to be a father at twenty-four.

Number Four: Just the night before, with Derek in Argentina visiting Cora, Stiles ate a dinner of Cheetos, plain microwaved hotdogs wrapped in bread, and four beers before passing out on the couch with the tv remote in his hand. He was not ready to be a father.

Number Five (still ongoing, more or less halfway through): They were going to have to move because no amount of corner guards or stupid little outlet plugs could childproof the loft. The door to the kitchen was literally a jagged hole in a brick wall. Stiles caught his shins on it regularly, they were always a mess of scabs and bruises.

Actually his entire body was a mess of scabs and bruises, because that was his life now, had been since sophomore year: fighting off the forces of supernatural evil.

Too bad he couldn’t childproof his life.

Oh god, they were going to have to move out of Beacon Hills. Away from the pack.

Nothing was stable in Beacon Hills, it had been eight years of panic and anxiety and near deaths and actual deaths. They couldn’t bring a baby into their current lives, Stiles wouldn’t even bring an adult into this hellhole. Who was trained in firearms. With combat experience.

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The Tumblr Poetry Aesthetic, or: the stars, the sea, Icarus, dark suburbia, and the (un)intentional pandering and ungrowth of the well-established

this conversation was initiated for me (madina) personally by giana @syrupbrat and stefan @travelingsalesman. epoch discussed this extensively in our discord chat, and the content of this post is mostly pulled out of that discussion.

When browsing through the usual tags used to promote one’s own writing on Tumblr, such as #inkstay, #spilled ink, #poets on tumblr, etc, we seem to drown in the sameness of everyone’s writing styles that it all is indistinct. It boils down to a haze of blah blah blah stars, blah blah blah yet another comparison to a Greek mythology figure, more love poetry, girl as dangerous, boy as god, alcohol is the only way we’ll survive.

These themes originated in what one might call the heydays of Peak™ tumblr poetry (this is starting to sound like a school essay & smh I can’t let this post go that direction), circa 2013(?)-2015. Most of it was documented in @nosebleedclub‘s “Memories of a Certain Spring: A Workbook” – Nosebleed Club was, in fact, what you would point at if you were asked in 2014 what “Tumblr writing” is (cue the emphasis on was, the evolution of NBC continues until now & I feel like a proud daughter about it). Multiple networks and groups have then spanned from that model, some which are still going until now, some abandoned and left to the dust – just so that you could be part of that “elite cool kids club”, whether the original one or not. the writers in the original collective also had their writing styles copied and/or plagiarized to capitalize off how prevalent and popular this aesthetic is but nvm that’s not my place to extensively rant about

I do love the stars. The sea, mythology, dangerous teenage gods, I love them all and I honestly would die for them (yes, the planets, ocean, and those tragic myths included) – but when people write about them just because they think it’ll be popular, just because it fits into the predefined box of what is proven to be well liked – an aesthetic that has since consumed us – exploration and experimentation dies, and that’s when it becomes dangerous. Everything posted will only be the product of rehashing and emulating what has been written and consumed before – shallow imageries without anything to say, without anything to make it yours. It got over-commercialized fast and crumbled. Let’s not even mention those who made a fake persona to make their poetry feel more “real” and authentic, those who write about drugs and alcohol w/o experiences backing them up and only stereotypes & what other people have written about it.

This phenomenon is further supported by Tumblr itself being a bad site in general bad platform for writing on its own – those notes, those likes and reblogs, really do shape up to define you, whether you’re conscious of it happening or not. We all crave for that feeling of being noticed because that’s just how it is. I myself can’t even say I never wrote something just for those notes, and I’m sure others that started out writing in Tumblr can say the same. If you don’t realize it yourself; if you don’t become self-conscious of the fact that really, Tumblr is a bubble, and do not actively seek out for anything new because you don’t see the need for it – you get stuck in it. Even if you wrote with the aesthetic that we all fell in love with, there’s a chance that you won’t get the recognition you think it deserved – it crushes you, and the cycle repeats again.

(this aesthetic, in turn, bled and drenched almost every tumblr roleplay until they all became the same and unrecognizable individually, whether with the usual tropes of characters: Sad Rich Girl With A Heart Of Gold. Bad Rich Boy With A Heart Of Gold. Gay Guy With A Bad Past So He’s Hypersexual Now – or situational: your edgy Welcome To This Small Suburban Town Where Everyone is a Supernatural Creature, or perhaps your This Is A Simulation of a Real Life Town for People Who Have No Lives)

Personally, I do believe in the existence of Bad Poetry – though “underdeveloped” is the word I prefer to use (maybe it’s just because I’m a softie and I can’t say outright that it’s bad, but let’s be real, bad poetry is bad poetry). No soul and nothing else to offer than just a few pretty words and fleeting concepts. Pseudo-profound bullshittery. u wanna get off it?

  • internalize the fact that we unconsciously seek for approval
  • get off tumblr for a while and write in your solitude 
  • consume more than u write.
  • explore & experiment upon different themes and structure. get out of your comfort zone in writing
  • write about your own memories and experiences, whether good or bad or interesting or not interesting, not what is deemed is consumable
  • turn to your culture and read up those local myths

– Honestly, I don’t know how because it cannot be forced. But recognizing that this exists will in turn make you think even more critically about your writing.

oh, that’s it – be critical. To the words that surround you & the words that come out of you.

To close this off: “its Everywhere like i get it . u wanna be a vampire cheerleader with a smile too big. i Get it . lets do something else” - @arckhaic

How to Write a Novel:  Tips For Visual Thinkers.

1.  Plotting is your friend.

This is basically a must for all writers (or at least, it makes our job significantly easier/less time consuming/less likely to make us want to rip our hair out by the roots), but visual thinkers tend to be great at plotting.  There’s something about a visible outline that can be inexplicably pleasing to us, and there are so many great ways to go about it.   Here are a few examples: 

  • The Three-Act Structure
    • This one is one of the simplest:  it’s divided into the tried-and-true three acts, or parts, a la William Shakespeare, and includes a basic synopsis of what happens in each.  It’s simple, it’s familiar, it’s easy to add to, and it get’s the job done. 
    • It starts with Act I – i.e. the set-up, or establishing the status quo – which is usually best if it’s the shortest act, as it tends to bore audiences quickly.  This leads to Act II, typically the longest, which   introduces the disruptor and shows how characters deal with it, and is sandwiched by Act III (the resolution.)  
  • The Chapter-by-Chapter
    • This is the one I use the most.  It allows you to elucidate on the goings on of your novel in greater detail than the quintessential three act synopsis generally could, fully mapping out your manuscript one chapter at a time.  The descriptions can be as simple or as elaborate as you need them to be, and can be added to or edited throughout the progression of your novel.
    • Can easily be added to/combined with the three-act structure.
  • The Character Arc(s)
    • This isn’t one that I’ve used a lot, but it can be a lot of fun, particularly for voice-driven/literary works:  instead on focusing on the events of the plot, this one centralizes predominantly around the arc of your main character/characters.  As with its plot-driven predecessors, it can be in point-by-point/chapter-by-chapter format, and is a great way to map out character development.  
  • The Tent Moments
    • By “tent moments,” I mean the moments that hold up the foundation (i.e. the plot) of the novel, in the way that poles and wires hold up a tent.  This one builds off of the most prevalent moments of the novel – the one’s you’re righting the story around – and is great for writers that want to cut straight to the action.  Write them out in bullet points, and plan the rest of the novel around them.
  • The Mind Map
    • This one’s a lot of fun, and as an artist, I should probably start to use it more.  It allows you to plot out your novel the way you would a family tree, using doodles, illustrations, and symbols to your heart’s content.  Here’s a link to how to create basic mind maps on YouTube.

2.  “Show don’t tell” is probably your strong suit.

If you’re a visual thinker, your scenes are probably at least partially originally construed as movie scenes in your head.  This can be a good thing, so long as you can harness a little of that mental cinematography and make your readers visualize the scenes the way you do.

A lot of published authors have a real big problem with giving laundry lists of character traits rather than allowing me to just see for myself.  Maybe I’m spoiled by the admittedly copious amounts of fanfiction I indulge in, where the writer blissfully assumes that I know the characters already and let’s the personalities and visuals do the talking.  Either way, the pervasive “telling” approach does get tedious.

Here’s a hypothetical example.  Let’s say you wanted to describe a big, tough, scary guy, who your main character is afraid of.  The “tell” approach might go something like this:

Tommy was walking along when he was approached by a big, tough, scary guy who looked sort of angry.

“Hey, kid,” said the guy.  “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to a friend’s house,” Tommy replied.  

I know, right?  This is Boring with a capital ‘B.’  

On the other hand, let’s check out the “show” approach:

The man lumbered towards Tommy, shaved head pink and glistening in the late afternoon sun.  His beady eyes glinted predatorily beneath the thick, angry bushes of his brows.

“Hey, kid,” the man grunted, beefy arms folded over his pot belly.  “Where are you going?” 

“I’m going to a friend’s house,” Tommy replied, hoping the man didn’t know that he was ditching school.

See how much better that is?  We don’t need to be told the man is big, tough, and scary looking because the narrative shows us, and draws the reader a lot more in the process.  

This goes for scene building, too.  For example: 

Exhibit A:

Tyrone stepped out onto his balcony.  It was a beautiful night.

Lame.  

Exhibit B: 

Tyrone stepped out onto his balcony, looking up at the inky abyss of the night sky, dotted with countless stars and illuminated by the buttery white glow of the full moon.

Much better.

3.  But conversely, know when to tell.

A book without any atmosphere or vivid, transformative descriptors tends to be, by and large, a dry and boring hunk of paper.  That said, know when you’re showing the reader a little too much.

Too many descriptors will make your book overflow with purple prose, and likely become a pretentious read that no one wants to bother with.

So when do you “tell” instead of “show?”  Well, for starters, when you’re transitioning from one scene to the next.

For example:

As the second hand of the clock sluggishly ticked along, the sky ever-so-slowly transitioning from cerulean, to lilac, to peachy sunset.  Finally, it became inky black, the moon rising above the horizon and stars appearing by the time Lakisha got home.

These kind of transitions should be generally pretty immemorable, so if yours look like this you may want to revise.

Day turned into evening by the time Lakisha got home. 

See?  It’s that simple.

Another example is redundant descriptions:  if you show the fudge out of a character when he/she/they are first introduced and create an impression that sticks with the reader, you probably don’t have to do it again.  

You can emphasize features that stand out about the character (i.e. Milo’s huge, owline eyes illuminated eerily in the dark) but the reader probably doesn’t need a laundry list of the character’s physical attributes every other sentence.  Just call the character by name, and for God’s sake, stay away from epithets:  the blond man.  The taller woman.  The angel.  Just, no.  If the reader is aware of the character’s name, just say it, or rework the sentence. 

All that said, it is important to instill a good mental image of your characters right off the bat.

Which brings us to my next point…

4.  Master the art of character descriptions.

Visual thinkers tend to have a difficult time with character descriptions, because most of the time, they tend to envision their characters as played their favorite actors, or as looking like characters from their favorite movies or TV shows.

That’s why you’ll occasionally see characters popping up who are described as looking like, say, Chris Evans.  

It’s a personal pet peeve of mine, because A) what if the reader has never seen Chris Evans?  Granted, they’d probably have to be living on Mars, but you get the picture:  you don’t want your readers to have to Google the celebrity you’re thirsting after in order for them to envision your character.  B) It’s just plain lazy, and C) virtually everyone will know that the reason you made this character look like Chris Evans is because you want to bang Chris Evans.  

Not that that’s bad or anything, but is that really what you want to be remembered for?

Now, I’m not saying don’t envision your characters as famous attractive people – hell, that’s one of the paramount joys of being a writer.  But so’s describing people!  Describing characters is a lot of fun, draws in the reader, and really brings your character to life.

So what’s the solution?  If you want your character to look like Chris Evans, describe Chris Evans.

Here’s an example of what I’m talking about:

Exhibit A:

The guy got out of the car to make sure Carlos was alright, and holy cow, he looked just like Dean Winchester!

No bueno.  Besides the fact that I’m channeling the writing style of 50 Shades of Grey a little here, everyone who reads this is going to process that you’re basically writing Supernatural fanfiction.  That, or they’ll have to Google who Dean Winchester is, which, again, is no good.

Exhibit B:  

The guy got out of the car to make sure Carlos was alright, his short, caramel blond hair stirring in the chilly wind and a smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose.  His eyes were wide with concern, and as he approached, Carlos could see that they were gold-tinged, peridot green in the late afternoon sun.

Also note that I’m keeping the description a little vague here;  I’m doing this for two reasons, the first of which being that, in general, you’re not going to want to describe your characters down to the last detail.  Trust me.  It’s boring, and your readers are much more likely to become enamored with a well-written personality than they are a vacant sex doll.  Next, by keeping the description a little vague, I effectively manage to channel a Dean Winchester-esque character without literally writing about Dean Winchester.

Let’s try another example: 

Exhibit A:

Charlotte’s boyfriend looked just like Idris Elba. 

Exhibit B:  

Charlotte’s boyfriend was a stunning man, eyes pensive pools of dark brown amber and a smile so perfect that it could make you think he was deliciously prejudiced in your favor.  His skin was dark copper, textured black hair gray at the temples, and he filled out a suit like no other.

Okay, that one may have been because I just really wanted to describe Idris Elba, but you get the point:  it’s more engaging for the reader to be able to imagine your character instead of mentally inserting some sexy fictional character or actor, however beloved they may be.

So don’t skimp on the descriptions!

5.  Don’t be afraid to find inspiration in other media!

A lot of older people recommend ditching TV completely in order to improve creativity and become a better writer.  Personally, if you’ll pardon my French, I think this is bombastic horseshit.  

TV and cinema are artistic mediums the same way anything else is.  Moreover, the sheer amount of fanart and fanfiction – some of which is legitimately better than most published content – is proof to me that you can derive inspiration from these mediums as much as anything else.

The trick is to watch media that inspires you.  I’m not going to say “good media” because that, in and of itself, is subjective.  I, for example, think Supernatural is a fucking masterpiece of intertextual postmodernism and amazing characterization, whereas someone else might think it’s a hot mess of campy special effects and rambling plotlines.  Conversely, one of my best friends loves Twilight, both the movies and the books, which, I’m going to confess, I don’t get at all.  But it doesn’t matter that it isn’t good to me so long as it’s good to her.   

So watch what inspires you.  Consume any whatever movies, books, and shows you’re enthusiastic about, figure out what you love most about them, and apply that to your writing.  Chances are, readers will find your enthusiasm infectious.

As a disclaimer, this is not to say you get a free pass from reading:  I’ve never met a good writer who didn’t read voraciously.  If you’re concerned that you can’t fall in love with books the way you used to (which, sadly, is a common phenomenon) fear not:  I grappled with that problem after I started college, and I’ll be posting an article shortly on how to fall back in love reading.

So in the meanwhile, be sure to follow my blog, and stay tuned for future content!

(This one goes out to my friend, beta reader, and fellow writer @megpieeee, who is a tremendous visual thinker and whose books will make amazing movies someday.)

Try to get rid of me in an overseas big city? We'll get rid of you instead.

(long story. tl;dr at the end)

Context:

Back in 2011 me and my immediate family traveled to Saudia Arabia for Umrah, or what’s known as the lesser pilgramage. You visit Makkah, make rounds around the Kaabah, pray with all your heart and soul, you get the picture. My dad and I were excited because we were all about going on a spiritual journey and casting away the problems of the world - but as it turns out, some problems just wouldn’t leave us.

As soon as we landed in Jeddah’s airport, our plan was to take a taxi to Makkah and get the Umrah done while we were still gung-ho about God. However, we were instead diverted to our relatives’ house in Jeddah, where we discovered that 4 or 5 of my mothers’ relatives and their families had gathered up and spontaneously crashed in my grandfather’s house for one giant family reunion. Naturally, my dad and I, as well as my maternal grandfather, were really upset over this development as my mom’s side of the family is full of … for the lack of a more polite word, the shady folks. Most of them I was on good terms with, but once I realized that my least favorite Uncle and Aunt had come with the crew, my enthusiasm just deflated like a balloon.

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A few years ago, I started doing this thing where I take care of myself from a third-person perspective. It started when I got diagnosed with my neurological condition, as a way to remember and embrace that I had a handicap, and that my life would improve if I observed proper care of it. For example, when I started to get overloaded I taught myself to step outside of the situation and say, “Self, hey, I think we need to get out of here. Remember that you’re sick, and it’s okay that you’re sick. I know you’re still working, and I’m sorry, but it’s time to take us home.” A big step in my life happened when, on one of those days where just nothing worked at all, I just put myself to bed with a book and glass of milk at 4:00 in the afternoon, saying, “We did our best, but I think we need to shut this day down. This is your job right now; I need you to get a lot of rest, because there’s a lot to do tomorrow.” Everything feels so much better when someone understands and accepts what’s up with you, even if it IS you. Even the tough-love aspect through the worst of times that says, “I know this is breaking you down into little pieces, and I’m so, so sorry to do this, but I need you to keep going. I’m going to get us out of this, but in order to that I need you to keep going” makes everything so much easier. 

It’s turned into this major thing in my life. I can already state that this is the most important thing for success in grad school. When you can look at yourself objectively and feel a need to care for that good, hardworking little human as best you can, it makes it easy to put your health and safety first. It’s second nature to celebrate even the smallest victories of that person, because you work so hard to take care of them, and you see that hard work paying off in countless ways. Standing up for yourself if easy when that voice in your head rears up at once, unable to just sit by and let your person get kicked around. It’s hard for me to think, ‘Hey, please don’t say those mean things to me,’ but when I look at the situation from the outside I immediately start going, ‘Woah, buckarooni, you think I am gonna just sit here, let you talk at my human that way? Bouta get my foot in your face is what’s bouta happen, friend.’

This practice has made me more compassionate, more patient, and less tolerant of mistreatment of those around me in any form. The saying, ‘treat others as you treat yourself’ goes a long way when you treat yourself really, really well. I strongly recommend this practice to you student types. Be your own mom/big brother or sister. Or date yourself, be a healthy relationship. Put your own name on the list of people in your support system. 

Issues (Smut)

MASTERLIST

Request: Jeep sex and a good bit of fluff.

A/N: This is my first story in like 8392 years and I’m so put of practice so please bare with me because it’s not great. Also shoutout to Emily. You’re the real mvp. Feedback would be great. 

Word count: 4,185

We were sitting in the jeep on the highway from Toronto back to Pickering and though we weren’t even half way yet, the drive seemed longer than usual.
Painfully longer. 

Though it was a rather warm summer day, I felt the chills run down my bare arms the soon as we got into the car. The pesky silence between us was smothering, suffocating really and made my entire body linger in the most uncomfortable way possible. 

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Beginner Workout Tips

I know a lot of guys wanna improve their strength, and summer is definitely a good time for that. Many of us have more free time now that it’s summer. Perfect time to try out the gym. If you’re thinking of working on getting go the gym more this summer, I have a few tips that could really help:

Starting off is tough. Get through 2 weeks, though, and you’ll probably be able to make going to the gym a consistent habit! The first week is definitely the hardest. If you can, find a friend to work out with. Put the offer out there, and you’d be surprised who might say yes. It’s definitely more motivating to go when you have a friend going with you. It’ll keep you both accountable, on track, and motivated. Trust me, it worked for me back when I first decided to get serious about exercising.

Start taking a multi-vitamin. Sure, you should be able to get enough nutrition from food alone, but some diets have holes in them and multi-vitamins can fill those in. If you don’t have proper nutrition, you won’t see results, and you might actually strain your body. I know not all of us make the best food decisions every day. This will help your body stay on track.

Increase your protein intake on days you work out. When you lift weights, this is especially important. Meats are all high in protein. Try and make choices that tend to be lower in fats. Eggs are your best friends! Fish is great, and omega oils are Good for you, yo. Beans, peanut butter, nuts, milk, and yogurt all have protein, too (and the dairy items have calcium! an extra plus!), so don’t stress if you can’t have meat! And while we’re on the subject of protein, this is extremely important to point out: Protein shakes are NEVER a meal-replacement. Skipping meals or eating less than 2000 calories (if you’re counting) will hurt you. Seriously. Don’t do that. Protein shakes are meant to be consumed after workouts, unless they are specifically pre-workout shakes. Whey protein will be tough on those of you who are lactose-intolerant, because it’s made from milk, so even though it’s typically cheaper than other plant-based protein powders, the extra money will help you not feel terrible. The easiest on the stomach, I have found, are rice-based protein powders. If the store has little individual packets, buy different flavors and different ones to see which one(s) you like best. I personally am partial to the generic CVS chocolate flavored whey powder.

If you are just starting out on lifting, do NOT go heavy. Your muscles will build p strength faster than your tendons, so you could hurt yourself if you try to go too heavy too fast. If something hurts, do NOT do the exercise. Know your limits, and never push yourself to a crazy degree. I know you wanna impress your friends you’re at the gym with, or even the cute person you’ve been eyeing across the gym, but if you hurt yourself, you will look like a huge fool. It will ruin you. Don’t. Instead, do lighter weights with higher reps. I usually go for 3 sets of 10 reps, but you can go for anywhere from 8-12 reps. Only after you have built up a certain degree of strength would I even attempt to go heavier and even target certain body parts and muscle groups more intensely than others.

Have at least 2 rest days! Rest days are important. Your body needs to recover, or else it will never grow. You’ll also just exhaust yourself, and that’s not good. Use your rest days to just chill out. Stay hydrated and stretch so the soreness from your gym days won’t make you stiff and will dissipate faster!

Split your lift days by muscle-groups. This will keep your workouts structured and keep your body’s development proportional. I divide my days up like this: pull day (biceps and back), push day (triceps and chest with some shoulders), leg day (and yeah, don’t skip it), and shoulder day (since I just really want mine to develop well lol). I do abs every time, after I lift, but you can also do them before. Don’t skimp out with abs. Sure, it hurts, but the results are great. Core strength will really help with overall strength! I do at least 5 weight-lifting exercises for each designated day. Stretch before, and then get going! If you are unsure about your form for an exercise, most gyms have personal trainers who are willing to help you. Don’t be afraid to ask them a question! Youtube is also a great resource for videos on form. I like AthleanX’s videos, as well as Gabriel Sey’s, and Buff Dudes. Proper form is extremely important, otherwise you could strain your body or even seriously injure yourself. It’s especially important for heavier exercises.

Cardio days are good for you! Have at least 1 cardio day in your week! Walking, biking, jogging, dancing, and the elliptical are great for cardio. Swimming is also good cardio, but as a poor swimmer myself, I don’t really get much of a workout from it. If you have friends who like to play sports, soccer, basketball, etc are great for getting in some cardio and also making it fun (because jogging is honestly boring unless you jog outside or have a killer playlist). Speaking of jogging, I know this may sound silly to some of you, but try not to jog at night, especially if you’re a younger guy. Safety is important, and believe it or not, younger men in their 20s are the most common victims of violent crime. Know where you are, jog with a friend or two, be aware of your surroundings (if your music is so loud you can’t hear the cars passing by, turn it down a notch), and have your phone available in case you need to make a call. If things look iffy, call it a night and go home. If you’re in a hospital (or freaking dead), you won’t be working out much anymore.

This may sound silly, but celebrate your results! Get excited over your gains. Take selfies, flex in the mirror, admire those veins that pop that weren’t there before. Also, little tip: the secret to getting arms that look bigger is working your triceps. They’re more of your arms than your biceps, so even though nice biceps look hot, good triceps will make you look stronger. It’ll make you look impressive! And being excited about your results from all your hard work will help keep you motivated!

Those are a lot of tips, so that’s enough for now. If you have questions that are more specific, my ask box is open and you can even message me if you’d prefer. Don’t be afraid if you don’t know anything about working out – that was once me, too. I ain’t gonna judge you, yo. Like I said, I don’t have any professional knowledge, but I figured some of what I know may be helpful. I won’t be able to answer every question you send my way, but if I can find a video or article that can, I will definitely send that your way instead. Have fun, and try and stay motivated! Best of luck on them gains, yo.

charmanderriere  asked:

Why do you think it's ok to use queer as a blanket term? As a bi trans person I find it incredibly hurtful and offensive

Do you really want to know my answer? Like seriously, are you actually open to listening to what my answer may be and absorbing any new information I may offer on the topic?

Because from here it doesn’t seem like you are. 

Let’s be honest with each other, you started out with the phrase “why do you think it’s ok” which is aggressive language, and then you justified your disagreement with your identity. Which I always found to be an interesting tactic, because when this clarification exists in an argument it assumes that by having this particular set of identities you are somehow more qualified to discuss this problem than someone else, while at the same time personalizing you so it is harder for anyone to disagree with you.

You then use the words hurtful, and then offensive. Both button words that illicit a certain type of response, hurtful in how inarguable it is. That is your feeling and I would never argue what a stranger is feeling to them. Then there is offensive, which is a word that is very well used in the LGBT+ community to discuss important issues surrounding our dehumanization. 

I don’t think that this message was a carefully crafted masterpiece of debate and trickery that you spent hour figuring out the direct phrasing of obviously, but I do think you had an intent when you wrote this message and the words you chose make that intent clear. 

You don’t want to talk to me. Hell I doubt you even follow me. I have anonymous turned off on my ask box, but I am almost 100% sure that if I didn’t you would be sending this under the little sunglasses wearing icon.

Also if you checked my FAQ you would have found a helpful little link explaining to you my views on the queer discourse. You may have noticed that I have my own reasons why I decide to use that word, and my own history with it. You probably also would have seen my post saying that I don’t mind people disagreeing with me. Or you could have seen that I have a link set up that blocks the word from all my content so no one has to see it if they don’t want to, and they can still have access to the history that I give insight into. 

But you didn’t care about that did you? Because you aren’t actually interested in what I have to say, if you were you would have already seen all of this and you would have seen my request for people to stop asking me to drag out my arguments for why I use the word again and again. You probably would have realized that either A) it is a lost cause so why bother B) that I have nothing left to say on the matter that I haven’t already said and you may have respected my professional boundaries enough to leave it alone.  

But here we are, you uninformed and angry, and me annoyed and tired. We aren’t going to have a good dialogue, and I am near certain you wouldn’t have accepted one if I offered it. You are not here to change my mind, because I have to assume that you at least did a basic check to see that my entire project has the word queer in it and it is pretty clear that isn’t changing. And you are also not here to have your mind changed. 

And to be honest I have no desire to change your mind. I don’t mind people disagreeing with me on this. It actually isn’t that big of a deal to me if someone doesn’t agree with my viewpoints all the time. 

I have read a lot of arguments in favour of removing the word from our lexicon completely. I disagree, but I understand them. As I have said before, this isn’t a huge dividing point for me. 

I have given people access to my work without the word queer in it, and that is the extent of what I am going to do here. 

So why are you sending this in? Nothing is going to change from it, and honestly it is a pretty boring message so I can’t believe you thought something would.

I think the sole reason you sent this was performative. 

You wanted to show that you tried to convince that big mean queer person without actually trying to convince them. Maybe this was a performance; for your followers, maybe you will screenshot my response and share them in a group chat. Or it is also possible this is a performance for yourself, maybe you want to convince yourself that you are doing something. 

Maybe you feel ineffective or like you need to make a difference so you are sending this message to me to feel proud of yourself for trying to change something that you don’t like. 

But you aren’t doing this to actually do the hard work of changing something. 

And it is fine if you aren’t able to do that work for any reason, but leave other people out of your sense of inadequacy. I am not here to be your punching bag that you hit so you can feel big and strong.  

I am tired, and I am bored of people sending me this performative garbage.

Which of course lends itself to the question, why am I answering this publicly?

I will admit there is a little bit of performance from my side as well, I want people to see how right I am and how much this behavior sucks. I want people to see me destroying this ask, and I am not going to lie I am totally going to send screenshots to the group chat.

What makes us different, is that I didn’t seek this performance out. I clearly did not send this to myself, and I haven’t made a post about the queer discourse in months. Which means, this person had to search for me so that they could get mad at me. Whereas I just had to check my inbox this morning and respond to what was there.

But outside of the performance of it all, I want my answer to sit with you for a couple of days. I don’t care if I change your mind about the queer discourse because honestly I do not care about the queer discourse. But I do want to change something. I want you to stop sending asks like these, because this doesn’t seem like it is your first. 

And if you were just sending them to me I would be fine with it. I can delete asks, and they roll off my back if I decide to let them. But not everyone is like that. 

I could now give a rant about the little baby queers I am protecting, but it is not just about them. It is about all of the people you send this kind of thing to (who almost certainly don’t deserve hate mail), whether they are affected deeply by it or not it doesn’t make what you are doing any better. 

And if me writing this long message publicly makes it less likely for you to send something like this again, then it is worth the five minutes I have spent crafting it. Because if you are a little more self conscious about doing something like this again, then hopefully I will have spared a couple of people the annoyance of having to deal with this kind of garbage message. 

omgcp - study buddies

Nursey walks into the kitchen. “How’s it going?”

Bitty startles, pushing himself away from the sink. “Not too bad, brownies will be out in ten.”

Nursey opens the fridge and takes out a bottle of seltzer. “How was Providence?”

“Good.” Bitty picks up the sponge, squeezes some dish soap onto it. “I babysat Thirdy’s kids while he and his wife went on their first date in, like, a year. It was really fun.”

“Sounds chill.”

“There was a lot of screaming,” Bitty admits. “And coloring. And I taught them to bake chocolate chip cookies.”

“Aww!”

“Yeah.” Bitty sets the sponge down, wipes his hand on his pants, and angles his phone towards Nursey. “Look. Aren’t they adorable?”

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What’s The Plan? (Peter Parker x reader)

Anon asked:

HI! I JUST SAW HOMECOMING AND IM IN LOVE. Anyway can I get a Peter X reader where the reader is Tony’s daughter (a teleporter) who has a deaf best friend (Fury’s son) who reads lips and has hyper awareness and she just invites Peter and Ned (who now has a Stark internship for his computer skills) and ned and the readers best friend just try to get the reader and Peter together bcs they know they have feelings for each other? (sorry if it’s too much and btw my best friend is deaf in real life💗)

(AN. I really think this is an adorable idea and I warn you, there are tons of fluff in this!!!!! And guess who became literal Tom!spidey trash and less than four hours after seeing Homecoming???? THATS RIGHT. ITS ME! aaanyway these guys helped a me come out with ideas for this fic > @raisafatika @ciaa11 @harukatrash so kudos to them)

-(B/f/n) : best friend’ s name-

-

(B/f/n) is a curious human being. He was born deaf, and that made him optimize the use of his other senses. He was given a hyper-awareness serum by his father, Nick Fury, at a very young age to help him go through the world.

Over time, the serum given to him as a tool to face the world became more like a superpower. He had awareness beyond any human being. He could feel even the tiniest vibrations.

Another challenge in his life was having to pretend that his father is dead.

Nick Fury faked his death a few years ago, and he hadn’t seen him since then. He sent his father anonymous letters from time to time, but Nick couldn’t send anything back to him in fear of giving away his location.

He was grateful to have (Y/n), his best friend. (Y/n) was Tony Stark’s daughter. Her mother died after giving birth, so Tony raised her. She was a genius, much like her father. (Y/n) played a huge role in Tony’s life. After all, six year old (Y/n) was the one who insisted Tony to take things seriously with Pepper.

(Y/n) also had a superpower. As a child, (Y/n) got trapped in her father’s matter transporter prototype. The incident broke the machine, but Tony didn’t care about that. He cared more about his little girl.

The accident gave her the ability to teleport. If she could focus enough, she could scatter her molecules to reform somewhere else. She could control her powers now, but if she teleported too much or too far, the exhaustion could kill her.

They were both avengers to an extent. They went on easy missions, but Tony insisted that they didn’t go on harder ones.

-

(B/f/n) stepped in the lounge. It was another regular day in the Avengers facility. Nothing to do. Neither he nor (Y/n) has school because lessons from Tony and Bruce was better than what any academic curriculum could offer.

He saw (Y/n) sitting contently in the couch watching Star Wars, her Hulk plushie conveniently cuddled in her arms. She was exhausted after teleporting to Manhattan and back. That’s the farthest she’s ever gone.

He smiled at his best friend.

Something else caught his eye. There was a phone on the iron kitchen in the back of the room, flashing with notifications. It wasn’t (Y/n)’s or his, so who’s phone could it possibly be?

He stepped closer and saw the messages.

From: Peter Parker

Hey Happy! Just checking in today!

So apparently, Happy left his phone.

(B/f/n) grabbed a piece of paper and crushed it into a ball and threw it to (Y/n) to get her attention.

“What is it?” (Y/n) asked, turning to him while pausing the movie.

Why did Happy leave his phone? (B/f/n) signed.

His actual gestures were actually: Happy. Leave. Phone. Why? but (Y/n) has gotten good at interpreting ASL.

“I don’t know,” (Y/n) shrugged and went back to watching Star Wars.

Suddenly, an idea came to (B/f/n)’s head.

He unlocked Happy’s phone. It wasn’t that hard. The passcode was Happy’s birthday, and since (B/f/n) had near-photographic memory, it was a piece of cake.

He scrolled through his phone and saw Peter literally spamming him with text messages Happy never bothered to read.

How are you Happy?

I just got home from school.

How’s (Y/n) btw?

Tell her I said hi.

Anyway does Mr. Stark have any missions for me?

I’ll always be ready if you need me, you know.

Don’t forget to tell (Y/n) I said hi.

And it goes on and on like that for at least three months.

There was one thing that (B/f/n) noticed. Peter always asked about (Y/n).

Nobody asks about someone that much unless he had a crush on her.

With blunt realization and sudden excitement, (B/f/n) smiled with glee.

(B/f/n) knew (Y/n) has a crush on Peter. She didn’t tell him personally, but he just knows. He’s aware of the slight blush that colors her cheek whenever Peter is mentioned, or the tension released from her posture whenever Peter enters the room.

He just knows.

(B/f/n) couldn’t tell (Y/n). She wouldn’t believe.

He needed a plan.

So he texted Ned frantically.

-

“(Y/n) invited us for movie night?” Peter asked incredulously, not believing his ears as his cheeks turn as red as the Iron Man suit. He only goes to the Avengers facility for training. He couldn’t believe (Y/n) invited them to movie night.

“That’s r-right,” Ned confirmed, “nothing behind this invitation- not at all!” he stuttered, ending the sentence with a nervous grin.

Peter gave him a suspicious look, but it did not last. His head was already imagining scenarios.

-

“You invited Peter for movie night?” (Y/n) asked incredulously. (B/f/n) shrugged and signed, Technically, I invited Peter and Ned.

“I don’t care! What if I mess up? What if I embarrass myself?” (Y/n) said with pleading eyes.

(B/f/n) rolled his eyes. You’re not gonna mess up, he signed, you’re not gonna embarrass yourself. You’re going to be just fine, okay?

(Y/n) sighed, “Okay,” she said grudgingly.

-

“Do I look okay?” Peter asked Ned, “Please tell me I look okay.”

“Relax, buddy,” Ned reassured, tapping his shoes.

(Y/n) opened the door. “Hi,” she said, smiling playfully. She was wearing an oversized sweater with pajama shorts while Peter was trying his best not to melt into a puddle.

“Hey,” Peter answered, trying to sound brave, but instead it came out more like a squawk. (Y/n) giggled at his reaction as she welcomed them in.

(B/f/n) waved at them and crashed on the couch, followed by the rest.

They agreed to watch Lord of The Rings. (B/f/n) set the subtitles and flopped back on the couch.

-

Halfway through the movie, Ned tapped on (B/f/n)’s shoulder. “what’s the plan again?” Ned whispered.

It’s dark, (B/f/n) signed, I can’t read your lips.

Ned gave him a confused look. “Huh?”

(B/f/n) face palmed. He remembered one thing that he did not think through. Ned doesn’t understand ASL.

Oh, how he hated excitement that ruined his near-perfect memory.

(B/f/n) took out his phone and opened the notes. He typed, what did you say?
And passed the phone to Ned.

Ned took the phone. I said, what’s the plan again?

(B/f/n) took the phone again. Excuse yourself to the bathroom, and I’ll do the same a few minutes after you.

He handed Ned the phone again. Okay. He gave the phone back to (B/f/n).

“Are you guys passing notes on your phone?” (Y/n) asked, slightly confused.

“What? No,” Ned said nervously.

Since (B/f/n) can’t hear a thing and can’t see in the dark, he typed, Who are you talking to?

“You guys are passing notes,” Peter observed.

“O-okay,” Ned stuttered, “I think (B/f/n) is sleepy, aren’t you?” he asked, as (B/f/n) tilted his head in confusion. “and I need to go to the bathroom!” he announced, pushing (B/f/n) out of the lounge and into the hallway. “I’ll be back soon!” he called and disappeared through the door.

“Well that was… wierd,” (Y/n) said uncertainly.

“yeah,” Peter agreed, blushing because he was alone with (Y/n) on the couch watching The Fellowship of the Ring.

(Y/n) scooted closer to him.

Peter noticed something dangling from the girl’s arms. “Is that a hulk plushie?” Peter asked.

(Y/n) blushed in embarrassment. “Umm… Yeah,” she admitted.

“I think it’s cute,” Peter smiled.

(Y/n)’s eyes brightened. “Thank you.”

Then, Peter realized, that if he wanted to confess, this is the perfect time to do so.

“(Y/n)?” Peter called softly.

“yeah?”

“I sorta.. Kinda, y'know…” he started, scratching the back of his head, “you’re just… And I’m, well… I don’t know how to say this and I’m really scared right now… It’s like… You know, when you’re in a room… I, ummm, I get nervous, and I-I don’t know how to act- I just have these feelings, and stuff and- I sorta- kinda like you- but- but y'know if y-you don’t feel the same…but I think I-I’m in love with you -”

Before he could finish his sentence, (Y/n) leaned up to press her lips against his.

Peter couldn’t believe it. (Y/n) Stark was kissing him.

He melted into the kiss in a matter of seconds.

His heart was beating out of his rib cage as he sighed into her lips, happy that he didn’t have to hide anything from her anymore.

They pulled away, out of breath and smiling like idiots.

“Was that your first kiss?” (Y/n) asked smiling contently.

“That obvious, huh?” Peter grinned.

“It was mine, too,” (Y/n) admitted, pecking his lips one more time.

They stayed in silence for a while.

“Hey, Peter?” (Y/n) called.

“hmm?”

“I think I’m in love with you, too.”

-

From the hallway, (B/f/n) and Ned high-fived in happiness that their fatally flawed plan actually worked.

Nick Fury would be so proud.

-

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The Preacher’s Daughter // A Mitch Rapp Smut

Author: @minhosmeanhoe

A/N: This is mine and @stilinski-jpeg ‘s first series together and I’m so fucking excited for y’all to see what we have planned. Love you Nia and thank you for being my best friend. 

Relationship: Mitch Rapp x Reader / Mitch Rapp x OFC

Warnings: NSFW, Explicit Sexual Content, Smut, Fingering, Oral (Male on Female), Sinning, Underage Drinking, and Swearing.

Word Count: 6,176

Song: Shape of You by Ed Sheeran

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I asked, my nervous voice ringing with the sound of my heels clicking against the pavement.

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Flirt (Two)

intro one two
genre:
fuckboy!jungkook, college!au, smut?, angst?
words: 3.5k
member: jungkook  (ft. taehyung)

despising jeon jungkook as he hooks up and steals your best friend away from you.

(credits to gif owner for the gif that kills all)

Originally posted by bangtanofarmys

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skam-fest (balloon squad livestream): TRANSLATION

disclaimer: we dunno danish. huge shout out to @maksisskambackwards for norwegian-english translation for the boys and Håkon. (they didn’t want credit and I said hush) grammar fixes by me ;) 

Everybody introduces themselves. And Håkon says that they’re still producing and thats why everybody couldn’t be there. Håkon likes Eskilds character the best.

Mutasim: Hei hei. My name is Mutasim and I play Mutasim. And I don’t know what else to say. My favorite character is Chris - girl Chris. Good actress.

Cengiz: should I introduce myself? I’m Cengiz, its like Ghengis Khan. (pronunciation of his name) I’m 19. And turning 20 today. No yesterday. What else should I say. I’ve never done any acting before. So this is very new for me. But its very fun to be here and speak before you. My favourite actor is many actually. I think like Håkon over there that Eskild has been really good. Chris. Really all, many are good. And I also think Vilde. Of course I like all the characters. Sana is a really important character. I support all of them. All my colleagues are great.

Simo: Hi, I´m Simo and I´m Sana’s brother, Elias. My favourite actor, I wanna say first everyone is amazing. But if I have to choose one it would be Sana.

Yousef: My name is Yousef, and I play Mikael. My favourite character is maybe Even. An (unpredictable?) character.

Adam: Hi everybody, I’m Adam and i play Adam. I’m 18 and really an artist and suddenly I’m an actor. My favourite is Jonas or Marlon. I’ve known Marlon for many years. We used to skate together and are buds. And one day he was like, “Adam I’ll be in this new show on NRK,” and we were like,  “okay… Is that cool?” And it was really fun to watch how it turned out.

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