#also to be very clear i actually do enjoy pete the cat i think this kind of stuff is a great moral for kids. like so true stuff WILL | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mk-wizard · 2 years ago

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Disney Fan Theory: Goofy Goof and George G. Geef

Hello, friends. While I am not big on modern Disney, I still love classic Disney and my favourite character is Goofy. I even enjoy his animated shorts in my adult life. However, I noticed with time, tons fan theories about this character, his history and family tree have come to light. In fact, I have one of my own that I want to share. Before throw it out there though I want to describe Goofy Goof’s character and history vs. George G. Geef’s.

Goofy Goof (the definitive version) is a sweet to a fault, kind and jolly klutz with a heart of gold and tends to have these bouts of wisdom. His sense of style and demeanor is endearingly nerdy and his trademark accessory is his green hat though there are times he doesn’t wear it. His first pet was a grasshopper named Wilbur though it can be assumed that he passed away. Sometime after that, Goofy got married and had his son Maximillian Goof who is more commonly known as Max. Tragically, Goofy’s wife died in a car accident while their son was a still a baby and raised him alone since while taking in his second pet a cat who he named Waffles. By the time Max was about eleven, Goofy moved to Spoonerville and right next door to the Pete family. Considering Waffles is not in the picture when Max is older, it can be assumed that the cat passed away. Later on when Max moves out for college, Goofy also got his own college degree at long last and has gone through many odd jobs over the years. In present day, Max is eighteen while living alone and Goofy has adopted his third pet being a kitten named Mr. Pettibone. Goofy is also officially in a relationship with Clarabelle Cow.

This brings us to a lates 50s to early 60s version of Goofy: George G. Geef. It’s very clear that George is a Goofy, but not THE Goofy. George is still clumsy, whimsical and even makes Goofy’s trademark sounds especially his laugh. However, his personality is much more serious, he has a bit of a temper, he has a slight ego and he is not above doing selfish things like gambling in secret. However, he is ultimately a good person and his sense of style and demeanor has much more finesse than Goofy does and he works in a office to this day. George does not have his two teeth exposed, he has a flesh coloured face, a black nose and black hair with black ears which he usually styles to be hidden most of the time while his body is flesh coloured all over. When George was single, he took in his first pet which a puppy named Bowser who eventually grew up and was pretty naughty. Later on, George got married (and it can be assumed that by then, Bowser passed away as he is not in the picture) and eventually had a son named Goerge G. Geef Jr. who everyone calls Junior. Like George, Junior styles his ears in such a way that they are hidden, he has a flesh coloured face and a flesh coloured body. However, his nose is pink and his hair is red which are traits he inherited from his mother. When Junior got older, the Geef family took in both a cat and a dog though their names were never specified. It is also hinted that George’s marriage got a bit rocky at one point as Mrs. Geef began to flirt with other men, but soon after, it was hinted that they worked things out and are happily married while Junior is as last seen in elementary school.

Now... I know the Disney wiki lists these two as being the same character, but I don’t I need to explain how that doesn’t make any sense as I don’t even need to list how different these two are. However, Disney insists that these two exist in the same universe and in the same timeline.

I know there is another fan theory out there that states that the Goofy who is Max’s father is actually George’s son grown up, but I think I don’t think that’s likely. While I can confirm that people who are redheads or blondes in their youth can wind up as brunettes in their adult life, I don’t think Goofy is Junior grown up because his last name is “Goof” not “Geef” and he’s too proud of his dad and family in general to be the type of person who changes his last name. Also, when he talks about his home life and childhood and all flashbacks of his youth indicate that not only was Goofy very different from Junior, when it was the 70s, Junior was a child while Goofy was a teenager.

This brings me at long last to MY fan theory to what Goofy and George are to each other. I think George is Goofy’s uncle. Specifically, Goofy’s grandfather is the brother of George’s mother meaning that they are also separated by a generation. Goofy did mention that he had a big family that was close nit. I say this because the timeline makes it so that it makes sense this way and because this is the only sensible way Goofy and George can exist at the same time while still both being Goofys. In fact, I don’t think a lot of the Goofys are the same person, but that’s a theory for another day.

Anyway, that is just my fun little theory, What is yours? Thank you for reading and as always, stay safe.

#disney #goofy #goofy goof #disney goofy #dippy dawg #george g geef #george geef #max goof #goof troop #family tree #goofy family tree #relative #uncle #cousin

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thebadboyfanclub · 4 years ago

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The Sun And Moon (Pete Davidson x Reader)

Heyyyyyy besties! So I'm back with another white boy of the month. I would like to warn you that this will be mentioning Pete's BPD and the reader will be mentioned as somebody that has had traumatic experiences however i am not mentioning what does that imply so don't worry about it. Other than that I hope you enjoy!

Being with Pete was almost a gift and a curse, you were so different yet so alike. The ultimate example of twinflames, the yin and yang. If someone had to describe what you two were like was that (y/n) was like the sun, a warm personality with kindness and such just overall this untouchable beauty from inside and out, also she adores to be under the sun, Pete sometimes found her as she laid on the floor next to her cat just so she can enjoy the warm rays, sometimes she would have her crystals (Pete called them "magic rocks") which Pete found so adorable, also as the weather got warmer she got happier.

Pete was the moon, a little bit more moody, mysterious, yet alluring, he intrigued anyone that was around him. Unlike (y/n) Pete was a night owl, he liked late night drives, staying up all night just smoking weed and watching movies, he liked the silence that the nightfall brought, he felt more at peace with the idea of relaxing and enjoying the darkness that others feared. Many times (y/n) woke up in the middle of the night and found him on her balcony, just sitting there and enjoying the view.

People around them brought up that comparison so much that they even got it as a couples tattoo, (y/n) got the sun behind her ear and Pete got the moon on his left middle finger cause he found it funny. However the curse was that they had to learn how to be around one another, yes they had similarities but they weren't quite the same situations.

Pete was a comedian, (y/n) was an author, both of them had to sometimes sit their ass down and think of something to write, but the circumstances were different.

"Baby I'm here"

Pete said as he shut the door of (y/n)'s apartment, dropping his pair of keys on the bowl that she had conveniently placed on a piece of furniture right next to her front door. Pete waited for an answer while taking off his shoes, (y/n) liked structure and she was a very neat person, another thing Pete had to learn, he wasn't dirty but he was a tad bit of messy so when he was at her apartment (which basically had become his also) he was careful with how he did things.

Silence greeted him back, he sucked in his teeth as he realized exactly why this was happening. (Y/n) had mentioned that she was writing the second book of her fantasy novel and she was in a bit of a writer's block, she had so many fresh ideas however when it came to writing them down sometimes her mind just wouldn't co operate and she just couldn't get it down in a way that she found right. He left the take out food on the small coffee table and continued to walk towards her bedroom.

There she was, slightly laying back on her leather chair with her laptop in front of her, just staring at her screen and occasionally pressing a few buttons. The door was somewhat open so he could take a good look at her, her hair was down, she was wearing some shorts and a t-shirt she had accidentally spilled bleach on so now it was a house shirt and no socks, she hated wearing socks. Pete knocked on the semi closed door to get her attention.

"Oh I didn't hear you come in"

"I figured, what are you doing here babe?"

"Regretting my decision on signing the contract for a second book"

She mumbled when Pete approached her and leaned down to press several kisses on her neck and cheeks. (Y/n) smiled and enjoyed the feeling of comfort he brought her before shaking her head and pulling away from him.

"I need to finish this chapter"

"What you need to do is eat, I'm pretty sure you skipped breakfast"

She knew he was right, that's why she didn't respond so she just kept on staring at her laptop screen, hoping that miraculously an idea will come to her head. She deeply appreciated his concern but she felt the pressure of her publicist that called everyday to ask about the book, today was one of the few days she chose to not pick up the phone. Pete once again was met with silence although that didn't stop him from placing his hands on her shoulders to give her a massage.

"Come on sunshine, you can take a break and clear your head"

"Pete I have to write thousands of pages in a short amount of time, it's not just fucking punchlines"

Pete's face made a sour expression at her jab. It did sting a little bit yet he tried to understand that she was just overwhelmed with the responsibility of delivering on time. He took a deep breath before patting her on the head and turning away from her.

"I'll be in the living room"

For some time she felt relieved that he left so she could refocus, however after a few moments when she started to see her reflection on the screen she started to realize what she had done which was awful. She felt so bad that she had to shut down the screen and close her laptop so she wouldn't look at herself, she spoke in such a disregarding manner that she felt disgusted. With tears already clouding her eyes she got up and found Pete watching TV, the take out in front of him and it didn't take long for her to notice that he had bought her favorite making her feel even worse. She stood in front of the TV and Pete looked in her eyes and smiled.

"I'm sorry"

Her voice breaks in the middle of the sentence. Pete's smiled dropped when he saw a year escaping and heard her whimpering voice, he immediately got up from the couch and went to hug her.

"Its okay sunshine"

"No it's not, I didn't mean it I swear"

"I know baby"

"I'm just so… stressed"

She said and let herself relax in his arms as she wrapped hers around his torso, feeling the warmth of his engulf her. His scent went to her nose making her feel safe in his arms as the tears stained his sweatshirt. Pete started rubbing her back to help her let out her emotions, he knew how emotional (y/n) was and he found it cute how she feels like cry no matter what the situation was, she had happy tears, angry tears, sad tears, she saw a dog tears, attending a wedding tears, he didn't mind it though on the contrary he liked that she was able to express her emotions with no fear.

"I understand baby, it did sting a bit though, you know how much I love my work"

"I know, I wasn't thinking when I said it which is wrong"

They had agreed that they wouldn't do the "it's ok" type of shit, they preferred to actually say when something either hurt them or bothered them so they can have clear boundaries with one another, it was one of the best decisions they could have ever made, it was one of the strongest foundations they had for their relationship. (Y/n) looked at him and Pete immediately went to wipe her tears, before pressing a kiss on her forehead.

"I'm sorry"

"I accept your apology. Are you feeling better now?"

"A little bit. Thank you for forgiving me and I will try to do my best to not repeat that behavior"

She responded, her voice now was more steady and clear. Setting boundaries between them and being clear about the behavior that is acceptable was something they had established early in the relationship, Pete was diagnosed with BPD and (y/n) had trauma from past experiences so they had agreed to see a couple's therapist in order for them to move on with their relationship in a healthy manner, so things like "it's ok" or "you know I didn't mean it that way" were unacceptable, taking accountability for their actions and having the humility to apologize was their key to success.

Pete's smile reappeared and now gave her a kiss on her lips, making (y/n) get a bit of a shiver down her spine. Their kisses always felt so strong, like energy passing through one to the other, it was such a magical experience to them.

"Are we good?"

"Yes, now take a seat and I'll microwave your food"

"Wow, Gordon Ramsey would be so proud of you"

#pete davidson imagine #pete davidson fluff #pete davidson fic #pete davidson blurb #pete davidson #pete davidson angst #pete davidson fanfiction #pete davidson headcanon #pete davidson one shot #pete davidson snl #pete davidson x reader #pete davidson x you #pete x y/n #king of staten island

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skinks · 5 years ago

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mr wentworth yes i help my son with his goofy voices yes i am a dilf tozier has the salt n pepper hair of god (oscar isaac) and the sexy librarian glasses to match

god I had never even considered that... the range of this...

Went starts going gray at 32 when Richie is 5 and it’s all the church women’s group can talk about... indirectly, of course. Oh, but he’s so young. Oh, he’ll be balding next. Oh I don’t know, doesn’t he look... distinguished? Mrs Nash from just down their street sees him doing rock-paper-scissors with his son Richard in the grocery store to determine whether or not Richard is allowed ice cream, and Dr Tozier is laughing because he’s winning, and he’s winning because Richard doesn’t know his father can see his little hidden hand reflected in the freezer cabinet, tucked behind his back. Richard’s laughing too, even though he’s losing, and bleats, “Again! Dad again,” eyes shining big as planets with coke-bottle rings.

“Don’t you know what best two out of three means? That was four draws ago.”

“No! No, I’ll win!” The boy shakes his head so hard his whole body rocks from side to side, then clings up at Dr Tozier’s middle with sticky hands. His very... trim middle. Helen’s own Rory, God love him, he enjoys a sudsy six-pack too much these days to keep a middle like that. “Two outta three! Three ice creams please Dad please please Dad please watch I can count to a hundred—”

“Well, we’re not playing hide-and-go-seek right now, Rich. And I beat you, didnt I?”

“Yeah!”

“Right. So why don’t you go get Dad six apples instead, alright? If you can do a hundred, six’ll be pie.” Dr Tozier claps his big hands gentle to the boy’s round cheeks, until they goldfish.

“Easy as,” they chant together. Helen props herself up with the handles of her own cart, the can of little hotdogs going slack in her hand.

“Six apples, then come right back. You got that, doc? You pick the color.”

Richard nods like he’s trying to detach his own head. Dr Tozier puts one hand just briefly on Richard’s dark mophead hair, like he’s giving the boy a blessing for his apple adventure. His hand is really quite broad, thinks Helen, popped out square at the thumb-joint. Matches that jawline of his, something whispers darkly in her stomach. Then the boy’s off, tearing down the aisle on a squeaking chariot of scuffed-gray sneakers and babbling what sounds like a Bugs Bunny impression, repeated on a loop. What’s up doc what’s up doc what’s up doc, fading around the corner to the fruit. Peculiar. Helen once saw the Tozier boy eat a worm at the park while pushing her youngest on the swings, after another solemn-eyed little boy with a faceful of freckles had carefully presented it to him in the sand box. Most peculiar.

Dr Tozier watches him go, then turns back to the freezer cabinet, and sticks two cartons of ice cream into his shopping cart—the very sugary kind. And the man is a dentist!

Helen puts her hand on her chest to calm the trilling schoolgirl rush of her heart, and then stops herself at the sight of her own wedding ring. Get a hold of yourself, Mrs Nash! For Pete’s sake! She trundles her cart over for some chit-chat. Afternoon, Doctor, she says, lovely weather. A perfect neighbourly opener. It is lovely; bright and warm and clear and golden, like honey outside. She’s quietly smug about her new blowout. Dr Tozier is wearing a crisp shirt with buttons like neat soldiers and short sleeves, exposing lean forearms. Yes, a lovely day. Helen swallows.

“Yes, good for the lawn,” replies Dr Tozier.

“We missed Margaret at book club this week,” Helen hedges.

“Oh, that’s right,” says Dr Tozier, and the fine lines at the corners of his eyes when he grins are even more distracting without the facemask he’s usually wearing, when Helen drops in for her check-ups. He pushes his spectacles up the strong slope of his nose. They’re wiry like him, steely gray to match his eyes. “She meant for me to tell you, or Diana. Maggie’s been in Skowhegan for the week at her mother’s. My mother-in-law is a woman of... nervous disposition, shall we say. Maggie didn’t think she’d cope with two Tozier men at once, now that Richie’s started losing his teeth.”

“Ohhh,” Helen coos. That must explain the ice cream. She puts her hand near to Dr Tozier’s arm, then away, then near, then away again for good. A neighbourly distance. Margaret is a lovely, lucky woman, even if she does wear flared pants. Hippie to yuppie pipeline’s alive ‘n’ flowin’, Rory always grunts whenever the Toziers come up in conversation. Helen imagines a picket fence between their bodies, and calms. “My Wendy was the same, I’m sure you remember.”

“Yes,” says Dr Tozier mildly. “You brought her in six times as I recall it, Mrs Nash.”

Mrs Nash. Honestly, like she’s his schoolteacher. It’s a little rude. Admittedly he does look quite, quite young with his faintly curling weekend-hair, if not for the new gray blazing a trail back from his temples like virgin snow. Helen is undeterred, even if something quivers inside at the thought of the word virgin in conversation with Dr Tozier. Music tinkles tinny through the ceiling speakers, and it puts Helen in mind of potted plants, or elevators. This is a lovely chat. “Well, you hate to see them suffer, don’t you? I’m sure Richard’s the same, lots of tears—”

“No, actually, Richie keeps on finding things to hit himself in the face with and knock out more teeth,” Dr Tozier interjects. He raises his eyebrows and speaks hushed, as if this is a secret for Helen’s ears alone. The thought makes her dizzy. “It’s my fault, I made the mistake of giving him a quarter for the first one. That’s why he’s not invited to Grandma’s. Lot of antiques.”

“Oh,” says Helen, taken aback. She has three girls; little boy behavior is as yet mystifying. “Well.”

“I’m joking, Helen,” Dr Tozier says cheerfully.

“Oh. I—I see. What a relief.”

He opens a freezer chest to examine a bag of frozen peas. “Maggie’s mom is deaf as white cat, she’d never notice.”

Helen tries to wipe her clammy hands on her dress without being obvious. Her face is hot, but she hopes her cardigan conceals the effect that the chill of the freezer aisle is having under her bra. She also hopes that it doesn’t.

He really does have such a slender, pleasant face, always with an air of casual, amused expectancy hanging around him. Haloing him, like that bright yellow light above the chair in his practice, blocked out when he leans over and slips his fingers inside. Helen supposes that’s what graduating medical school must do to a man, what marrying and fathering young and having one’s own practice by the end of such a turbulent decade as the nineteen-seventies must elicit. The ability to put people at ease, to—to say open wide and know the people of Derry trust him enough to comply. To open themselves. Helen’s breathing catches. Dr Tozier idly checks his sensible watch, still smiling the unhurried smile of a man who very rarely does his own grocery shopping anymore. Everyone knows you pick up the ice-cream last.

Helen gathers herself. This is the longest conversation she has entertained with Dr Tozier without children or the squeaking of latex gloves between them, and she’s gripped by the terribly silly need to be interesting. “Speaking of white cats, I couldn’t help noticing your hair, Wentworth—”

“DADDY!”

Dr Tozier blanches, whipping around to scan the end of the aisle. He is a long line of tense instinct tuned to thrum into action at one specific frequency, knuckles white on the cart handle. His cart bumps into Helen’s. It is thrilling.

“Fuck,” Dr Tozier mutters, and that’s thrilling too, he swore, oh, the boy’s probably fine Wentworth, don’t go, why don’t we just stay right here with the frozen goods and—

Then Richard comes barrelling back down the aisle like a colt on new legs covered in old Band-aids, with his arms full. The fluorescent strip-lights gleam white on Dr Tozier’s broad shoulders and he sags, like snow dropping from a branch, with relief.

“Hey, lunkhead,” he says, sounding shaky, but Richard is only five and would never know it. He’s babbling again. Seems to Helen like the boy’s as a hydrant overflowing on a hot day; entertaining and welcomed at first, until it becomes a nuisance when you begin to understand it won’t shut off, and have to call the firemen.

“Nyyeeeeeah,” Richard greets his father, tousled and bug-eyed with clear adoration, breathing hard from his Supermarket Sweep. Then he makes the carrot-noise. Looks like Bugs, Helen thinks of the boy’s new adult front teeth, the beaverish jut of them exacerbated by his missing canines on either side. Then she feels abruptly un-neighbourlike for being jealous of a child for his father’s attention, good grief.

Dr Tozier regards his son for a long moment. Then says, “What’s up, doc?” in a spot-on Mel Blanc whine. Richard giggles so hard his too-big glasses start slipping. “How many apples is that?”

“Gotta apples and I was gonna put ‘em in a bag but I forgot and Dad, Daddy look, s’a dinosaur on the box for my dinner when Mommy’s at Grandma’s—”

Dr Tozier sighs, putting one hand on his hip and dragging the other over his clean-shaven mouth, watching Richard drop his armfuls everywhere, scattering the linoleum. He has two apples, four boxes of brightly colored cereal, a handful of pencils topped with cartoon-character erasers, and a kiwi fruit. For a moment, Helen sees the shining enamel of Dr Tozier’s everything-will-work-out-with-another-cup-of-coffee amusement slip, wear away to worry underneath.

“Rich,” he says, interrupting Richard’s blabbermouth, firm and patient. Helen’s thighs burn suddenly under her skirts at the tone of his voice, and she looks down, rearranging her own groceries. She should leave them to get on. She could offer to help. Margaret’s out of town, poor things, they probably haven’t eaten a cooked meal all week!

“Richie,” Dr Tozier says again. “Listen and pay attention when Mom or me ask you to do something, remember? How many apples did I ask you to get?”

Richard has to crane his neck to meet his father’s eyes. Dr Tozier is one of the tallest fathers in the Derry Elementary catchment zone, Helen has checked. “Six!”

“And how many’ve you got, Elmer Fudd?”

“Um.” Richard’s pale little face creases in thought, then brightens. When he speaks again his voice is strange, accented. “Twooo.”

“Some apple hunter you are, huh.”

“Sorry, Daddy.”

“That’s fine.” Dr Tozier stoops to gather Richard’s detritus, and Helen knows she has something to contribute, watching the boy stick one of the pencils up his nose.

“You know, apples are very good for you,” she says. Richard turns to her, slack-jawed, as if seeing her for the first time. “You should listen to your Daddy, Richard, an apple a day keeps the doctor away.”

Richard stares for another few seconds. Then he bites down on his boogery pencil so that it threads through the gaps in his teeth, and hollers, “MY FRIEND BILL SAID THAT’S A PILE OF BULLSHIT.”

“No shouting indoors, Rich,” says Dr Tozier, still gathering. Helen rocks a step backwards, clinging to her cart like a life-preserver.

“Bill and my’s friend Eddie eats a thousand apples and sees the doctor all the time though Dad, and Miss Spiegel said if we eat apples we don’t have to see the doctors but Eddie eats them and—Bill said—”

“Pile of bullshit, yeah, I liked it. Bill’s an eloquent guy,” says Dr Tozier. This is the second time Helen has ever heard him curse in as many minutes. It comes out easy and amused as everything else does in his pleasant tenor. His legs and his jaw are so lean and angular that Helen can see the suggestion, the shadow of the shape of his perfect, swearing teeth through his cheek as he grins helplessly at his son, the fruit of his loins and someone else’s loins who isn’t Helen, and all of a sudden she feels a slick pulse of wet heat, up between her thighs.

She squeaks. Flutters her hand to her face without knowing why, perhaps to catch the noise before Dr Tozier notices, just another quivering Derry leaf tossed along by his breezy manner. He looks up anyway, with a frown.

“Everything alright, Helen?”

“Just—fine, yes,” she manages. Dr Tozier is still down on one knee, kindly face level with her skirts. She can see right down under his starched collar from this angle, a slivering glimpse of smooth, dark hair. No undershirt. Helen has lain naked against Rory’s nakedness before without feeling this alive, in every part of her body. She feels like a heart, beating.

“Oh, hang on.” Dr Tozier says, eyes widening, and turns Richard by the shoulders to face her. One pencil for each nostril, now. “Apologize to Mrs Nash for cussing, Richie.”

“Sorry!” Richard shouts, sounding less like he’s apologizing and more like he’s just deemed Helen it during a game of tag.

Helen is still floating in a dazed state of mild panic. Like a prey-mouse, bewitched into slack compliance by her own body’s snaking desires. “That’s alright, dear.”

F-word, Dr Tozier had said. Maybe cussing could be quite neighbourly when applied in the right context, thinks Helen.

“You mentioned my hair, earlier,” says Dr Tozier, straightening back up with a knowing sort of arch to his eyebrow as he smiles genially at Helen. He tilts his head down at Richard. “There’s the reason. Every last one, sprinkled onto my head at the tender age of thirty-two by the great salt-and-pepper shaker of fatherhood. Especially this week, with Maggie on sabbatical. Had to bring you to work with me, didn’t I, buckaroo?”

Richard bites and swings and tugs on his father’s long arm, a tearaway kitten with a much obliging scratching post. Dr Tozier hardly seems to notice. “Yeah! Daddy’s got fishes at work!”

Dr Tozier grimaces slightly at Helen, but also as if he’s seeing right through her to some past unnamable horror. “I liked those fish. Calmed down the nervy patients.” He sighs again.

Helen wonders briefly whether or not the residents of Dr Tozier’s waiting-room fish tank suffered the same fate as that worm in the park, and decides she’d rather not know.

“Well, you needn’t worry about it,” she says, gamely. She watches her hand reach towards Dr Tozier’s silver-black brindle, then snatches it back from his bland expression to brush the tips of her own feathered-out hair. “The gray, I mean.”

Dr Tozier blinks.

“It’s very—that is to say, you look, it makes you look, I mean, I think it’s—”

Dr Tozier’s left eyebrow joins his right, raised up high.

A tidy little jet of hysteria shoots up from Helen’s knotting stomach to spin like a top in her chest. She hears herself stutter out the word, “Dashing,” and immediately wishes to flee the store, leaving her cart abandoned like so much collateral damage.

But Dr Tozier only barks a laugh, a short, smooth hah like everything else he says. Entirely unperturbed. “Well, thank you.”

Too unperturbed. Helen is struck by a sudden bolt of terror, at the thought of the things Dr Tozier must surely hear every day, when people are lulled by the hypnotically intimate environment of a dentist’s chair and a touch of the laughing gas. Oh, this is terrible. Her face is on fire.

“But they—they make products for men now,” she says, and why, oh why can’t she stop talking? “Hair dyes, I mean, if it really does bother you? I’ve seen them in Keene’s.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” says Dr Tozier, looking down at Richard then with a soft edge, at his bouncing noise and scabbed knees and gently curling hair like a black spaniel’s. Like his father’s. “I find I’m rather grateful for it, truth be told.”

“Plus,” he continues, as if Helen wasn’t already melting harder than the Tozier’s ice-cream, as if Johnny Kitchener the shop-boy isn’t going to have to come along with a mop and bucket to clean up on aisle seven, “Maggie’d kill me if I got rid of it.”

Then Dr Tozier winks.

Oh Lord, oh Lord, Helen’s whole ribcage is so tight she can’t squeeze out a reply, because who could blame dear, pretty, annoyingly friendly, lucky, lucky, lucky Margaret for that when Dr Wentworth Tozier DMD is so—

So f—

So fffffff—

So fiddlesticksing handsome!

“Well, we’d best not keep you, Helen. This one is in dire need of a bath before his mother sees him, and hands me a divorce on the spot,” Dr Tozier says, when another few moments have passed and all Helen can do is try to desperately smooth the creases from her breathing. He’s humming mild interest at something Richard is saying, knelt back down to the linoleum to tie the boy’s loose-worm laces presumably before he gives himself any more skinned knees, and they’re leaving. Dr Tozier is leaving, and Helen hasn’t done anything but act like a ninny this entire time. She doesn’t want him to think her a ninny, a simpleton. She wants him to leave this bright, liminal church of bold colors and jazzy waiting-room music and return to his lemon-yellow two-storey house thinking my, what a lovely chat I had with Helen Nash.

She wants to linger, as he lingers. Like an amiable spirit hanging over the women’s group at church, waiting to be summoned at a moment’s eager notice. I bumped into Dr Tozier at Palmer’s on Saturday, she’ll say to the other jealous ladies, with triumph, and we had such a nice talk. He called me Helen.

“And when—when does Margaret get home?” she blurts. A very secret part of Helen wants Dr Tozier to leave this conversation with Helen and his wife both, entwined by association in his mind. She tries very hard not to think about the Toziers divorcing, because that is un-neighbourly, and feels least neighbourly of all when a dopey, dreamy look crosses Dr Tozier’s face like a brief sunbeam at her question.

“Ah. Tonight. Not too late, hopefully.” He jerks one of his knuckley thumbs at his shopping cart, licking the other to wipe something unidentifiable from Richard’s grubby face. “That’s why we’re here, stocking up for her miraculous return. Like a couple of noble emperor penguins in Antarctica, eh Rich?”

“Penguins like from Batman! Ka-pow.”

Helen takes a peek into their cart, curiosity getting the better of her now that permission is granted. Dr Tozier might not know it, but looking into another person’s cart is bad grocery etiquette, especially in a town like Derry, where gossip grows like a fungus in every sweaty and close little huddle of people. Not that Helen would know about that. Anyway, there isn’t much to gossip about besides the unfortunately liquefied ice-cream, the severe lack of crunchy vegetables characteristic of a young man in 1981 trying to provide for a tooth-shedding son, and—

A little cardboard box. Tossed unashamedly between the Wonderbread and a magazine about sports. Prophylactics. Rubbers.

36-pack. XL

Helen knows her jaw is hanging open and strains to close it, the back of her neck and her shoulders feeling hot and tight and shuddery. She kneads a fist into her skirts. Crosses her legs at the ankles as demurely as she knows how, because the very last thing she needs is for frank, sensible Dr Tozier to see right through her with that easy doctor-patient-confidentiality smile, and know she’s soaking through her underwear at the sight of his Saturday grocery run, and all it implies.

Dr Tozier is laughing, nudging Richard in the direction of the register, or perhaps the apples. “Ka-pow is right. I’ll make sure to use that on Mom, thanks. Say hello to Rory for us, Helen. Have a nice day,” he says from over his shoulder, startling her. Holds up one long hand in a wave with a grin, and is gone, shadowing the boy’s haphazard attempts to push the cart despite not being able to see where he’s going.

Helen stands amongst the humming freezers, trembling. “You too,” she rasps, but Dr Tozier has rounded the corner, and is evidently going to have a nice day and a much nicer night, regardless of whether Helen wishes it for him or not.

All the bright little branded characters are watching her from their shelves, a silent jury. Helen Nash opens a freezer cabinet with a weak arm, and stands there for a while, staring at a leg of ham and thinking cooling, neighbourly thoughts.

#long post #idk how to do readmores on mobile soz not soz #wentworth tozier #richie tozier #poor sexually unsatisfied helen nash #sometimes you just have to write the DILF went tozier fic you want to see in the world #stephen king: he was a pleasant looking man with a rather thin face #me cracking my knuckles: a l r i g h t #but what if... big dick richie was hereditary... what then 😳🤔👀🤔👀😳😳👀#ficlet

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halothenthehorns · 4 years ago

Text

All in the Family

Chapter 29: The Dueling Club

Peter found it a genuine relief, once his head stopped ringing, to find themselves not in Hogwarts for now. There was just too much going on in their school that was giving him the creeps, too much trouble Harry kept getting into that they somehow managed to follow.

His confusion still rose of where exactly they were. There were glass cases lined all along the walls and a metal bar protruding from the wall in front of all that as if it were any kind of deterrent, and it took a few moments before he could get to his feet and peak into the nearest one, prepared to dart away the second another dangerous thing lunged out. Instead he found a strange, very tiny little creature with rough brown skin and buggering blue eyes. There were three prongs coming out the back of its head, but four legs that seemed webbed in appearance and a flat tail. His eyes swept down further and he saw a plaque reading Axolotl- Ambystoma mexicanum, with some description of the beast. Looking more properly now along the way again he saw the same type of thing in front of every display. They were in a reptile house.

He'd been to the zoo a few times in his youth, but his mum being a seamstress meant they hadn't much money and it had been a treat. As far as they knew Harry had only been the one time, but that didn't explain why they were here now. Up until this point they'd been following Harry along, this seemed rather out of the way.

"Hey, I think I found the boa Harry was talking to," Frank said as he eyed a great mound of green coils snoozing away.

"I don't think so," Alice corrected. "I distinctly recall that one being brown, and a Brazilian boa. The Emerald's are from Brazil, but not the right species."

"Maybe they don't have it on display anymore," Lily muttered, thinking that whether it had escaped captivity or been caught, someone likely wouldn't want it on sight anymore.*

"Oi, I found a door that opened!" Sirius whooped in triumph, keeping the book loosely under his arm as he sucked in the fresh air. "How about we put this nasty business on hold lads and get some space, I've never been to a zoo before!"

"That was just sad," Remus told him at once, and Peter was more than happy to follow them out of this place. Too many things in here would find him a snack, in both bodies he could assume.

"I want to see the Dudley gorilla," James agreed as he darted past, coming almost at once to a fork in the road. He didn't even hesitate, high on pure energy he darted right and took off at full speed still shouting about all the animals he wanted to see.

"I vote Wormtail fetches him," Remus smirked.

"You literally just used a Padfoot joke on me, I can't decide if I'm offended or flattered," Peter rolled his eyes as he strolled past the two, who were clearly enjoying the clear skies and shady foliage more.

"Go with flattered and do what he says," Sirius suggested.

Peter was already doing so, scoffing about the two turning into layabouts, but turning into a jog to keep James in sight as he took a left. He finally caught up to him as he was bouncing in place and reading the plaque of a reindeer. "Look, look it Wormie! My distant cousins!"

"Prongs, you know just because you can turn into one doesn't mean-"

"Shhh! Don't spoil my fun, think I can get in there with them? Bet I can be king of the herd!"

"James, I really wouldn't recommend-"

He was being ignored, he'd already slipped under the wooden boards and was standing in the space in between, fingers pressed into the mesh gate, eyeing the top as if he could gauge how far the jump was. "Wonder why they only have males in there," he said absently as he tried to fit a trainer into the metal.

"This is one of the few species of deer where females can grow prongs to, I'm sure they're in there," Peter said in resignation as he managed to get both feet off the ground, but stayed there for a moment rather than lifting himself higher.

James hesitated, trying to stretch his arm up higher to get more purchase without toppling over, but couldn't get his feet in well enough to manage such a thing. "Where's Sirius?" He demanded as he wobbled dangerously, looking for more backup than Peter's silent unsupport.

"He and Moony were taking their sweet time while you ran off."

"Been noticing that a lot lately," James groused as he let himself loose and hit the ground, deciding to focus on this. Of course he could have made the climb if he wanted to...it just would have been easier if he'd had his broom.

"Yeah," Peter agreed, keeping the bitterness entirely out of his voice as James acknowledged this as well.

"Probably just catching each other up on every mundane detail Pads missed the past month," James sighed, even as he did gaze back curiously.

"Wasn't much to miss," Peter reminded.

James ignored this, no need to go back and reminisce how quiet their life had somehow gotten with one of their numbers not on speaking terms, so grabbed hold of Peter and began towing him further on. "Oh well, they'll catch up. I saw an exhibit for meerkats isn't far off, let's go see your cousins Pete!"

"I think this place got the sign for this one wrong," Frank told Alice as he inspected the odd creature before him. "That's clearly some kind of zebra."

"Says here an Okapi is a subspecies of giraffes and zebras," Alice agreed. Shrugging at how odd Muggels were for their many sciences, especially in naming creatures. The two moved on, stopping with increasing frequency and more than happy to have Lily around whenever they ran across something odd, like a cart full of bobble-heads.

She seemed to be in a radiant mood, having tied her hair up and was all but skipping ahead of them and only rounded back when they called out a question to her. When curiosity had gotten the better of her and Alice had finally asked why, she'd just smiled and admitted, "the peace and quiet is nice."

It was true they hadn't heard a word of the book yet, which was rather odd, and they wondered if distance had finally pulled the magic too far and they didn't even know if the Marauders were continuing the story somewhere else. Only Frank seemed disappointed in this prospect, the mystery of that monster at Hogwarts still on his mind, they could be missing clues. He was having far too much fun though to really offer the complaint, and didn't dare suggest actually hunting the lot down, bringing the girls moods with this.

"Let's go find the birdhouse," Lily suggested, her eyes sparkling with excitement. They spotted a huge dome like structure in the distance which must have been what caught her eye and easily kept pace with her as she kept up a happy babble. Alice suddenly realized this was really the most she'd heard her talk since this began. "I love birds, did you know their bones are hollow, but still incredibly strong. You can't just snap them in half like a chicken bone."

"Do you own an owl?" Frank asked kindly, but to his surprise the smile dropped from her face.

"No, ah, my parents won't allow it." Her answer sounded very diplomatic, but Frank still regretted asking, having brought her mood back so low.

"My sister, really," she tacked on defensively, her tone edging harder every word now. "She, err, I've asked, but she hates animals, and my parents, err, I mean I have to respect her wishes too."

"Must be hard having siblings," Alice offered.

"Yeah," she agreed, her hand trailing up to catch strands of her hair now and playing with it, walking along at a much calmer pace so to stay even with them now. "She, ah, doesn't like that I can do magic but she can't. It's, been hard to talk to her lately. Last time we really did was our last trip to the zoo, first summer back from Hogwarts. It's like she forgot where I'd been gone all year, and we just talked and had fun all day. Even though she took no interest in the animals, we played games watching Muggles pass by and mum and dad let us even go off ahead of them a bit to show they trusted us being bigger. Then we went to the birdhouse, and I saw the most beautiful owl in there! I started telling her about all the ones at school, and -" She stopped there, both in speech and walking, staying frozen on the spot in front of a cart advertising plushies for all sorts of critters to see in this zoo.

Then she blinked as if coming back to reality and gave them a very guilty look. "Sorry, looks like I'm always putting my foot in my mouth no matter the company. I'll just let you two-"

"Don't be silly," Alice said at once, reaching out and taking her hand with the best smile she could offer. "As if we're going to let you off on your own after spilling your guts like that. Your sister's a twat for not wanting to hear about your life, but we'd love to."

Frank gave an encouraging smile as well, thinking the poor girl needed some fun in her life. Between such a home life and someone like Snape for a friend, she probably didn't get much. "We don't have to go to the bird house, how about we find the food court?"

"No, I want to," she insisted, her eyes lighting with some spark again. "I really did love the place, it's so exotic and probably as close as I'll ever get to seeing the rain forest. Err, it's also on the way to the restaurants," she offered herself.

"Sounds perfect," Alice agreed, now the one dragging both of them along.

Remus and Sirius were unintentionally taking turns watching each other. It was a miracle they'd managed to keep their school bags on them all this time, but when Sirius realized he had, he'd slipped the book into it without a second glance yet, and that had been almost an hour ago now. Finally he could just enjoy some time out, and some alone time with Remus.

The two had already stopped and had a good snog once already, before the sound of something had drawn their startled attention. It didn't sound particularly threatening, and in fact it turned out to be a lion attempting to mimic a roar, though it more sounded like a giant cat hacking up a hairball. Remus had dragged Sirius over and began mocking the beast, and the proud cat actually responded in kind. Sirius nearly fell to the ground laughing as the two kept 'roaring' at each other for a good few minutes.

Then the two had taken off to actually find their mates, looking first in the gorilla house where they'd expected to find them. They did indeed spot the apes, but in the very back hiding in the shaded trees and various equipment they had available to play in. Then they'd been sidetracked at where the warthogs were rummaging about, Sirius being genuinely amazed how tough they looked compared to the bacon he was craving.

Remus had to drag Sirius away from the anteater, while Padfoot still insisted he wanted a closer look at such an odd creature and surely it wouldn't run if he turned into a friendlier dog. They had another good pass at each other before they realized they had an audience in front of the lemurs, and still red faced and fixing their clothes from that, they finally stumbled across their friends gazing at some naked mole-rats.

"There you two are, we been looking all over!" James called in excitement.

"What's with you two, you look all hot and bothered," Peter agreed. There was an odd look in his eye as he saw the pair and then looked back at James, but both ignored him and the question.

"Probably walked right past each other in a place this size," Sirius said off hand. "Let's go find that place Harry mentioned, where we can get some ice cream around here."

They all stopped and had some fun in front of the tigers, each bidding how far they could get in before the big cat realized they were there. Peter insisted he'd make it the farthest, without becoming a meal. Then they came across a bear enclosure, two huge beasts tossing each other about inside. It seemed in good fun, for the animals.

"Come on, we run around with a werewolf once a month, I'll bet I can take them!" James insisted, now more than willing to levitate himself into the enclosure and give it a go.

"Prongs, you are literally something they'd have a joy eating," Peter tried to protest.

"Not if he has backup!" Sirius insisted, bouncing on his heels in preparation.

"You two idiots are going to be murdered and then we're going to be zapped around with corpses," Remus pleasantly informed them. "Please, let's go have some lunch, and then we can come back," he quickly pacified.

They were still happily bickering about it when they found a good sized restaurant and went into the cool air with gratitude, raiding the kitchens for the sweet treats and each making their own scoop before Sirius finally took a grateful seat at a table and digging into the bag for the book.

"So you weren't reading that this whole time?" Peter asked with interest.

"Nah," Remus shrugged, "was just having some jollies about the place like you two."

"I'd been wondering if we'd just get yanked out of here before we'd find you two," James rolled his eyes.

Sirius ignored him too as he finally got started reading the chapter title.

"Glory Black, we could hear you outside, can you yell that any louder," Smith said as she poked her head inside, her face flushed from heat as well but looking almost grateful to have found them.

"You just getting started on that?" Longbottom asked as he came inside as well along with Evans, all three clutching stuffed parrots.

"Yep, glad you could join us," James smiled and very obviously moved himself over to make room for them, her, nearly pushing Peter out of his seat in the process.

Peter scowled and shoved him back just as hard, James nearly face planting his ice cream.

Ignoring the two making snipping comments at each other now, the three sat around comfortably, though not nearly as far away as they could. James still beamed at the proximity, wishing they could spend the rest of this reading adventure here, it was clearly putting Evans in a good mood, she was even smiling as Sirius started off and it didn't even dim that much as the Muggleborns in the school were described during this monster fear.

Regulus spent the entire time staring at penguins. They were funny little things, he'd instantly decided, and had been captivated at once by the flightless birds zooming through the water at such speeds. For a moment he'd even tried to see if he could run faster and been amazed the bird swam the length of it's glass before he could do any such thing. Smiling as the one he'd locked eyes on darted away, he tried to circle around and follow it, finding a nice large tree he could sit under and observe the whole area.

He was sure if a Muggle were to come along he'd be terribly scolded, he'd had to clamber over a large ridge right into the enclosure and several of the birds came up to him within reach, clicking their beaks and eyeing him for food. When he offered nothing they lost interest and began preening each other, the splash of water as the bodies leaped free of their miniature ocean the only noise he heard until Sirius finally began reading the next part of the chapter.

His voice had been so clear Regulus had startled, scattering all the webbed critters that had gone near him back into the water, but when he looked around, there was still no one in sight. Sighing and inching himself further a bit more so that his feet nearly touched the clear surface, he relaxed again and let himself enjoy the tale from a distance for once. He couldn't hear the commentary going along, to which he was grateful for. He could almost imagine it all anyways, his idiot of a brother and his friends laughing about the Potter kid causing trouble in Snape's class, Smith and Longbottom being happy about everything and chatting about the good merits of a dueling club. By the time the chapter even got to the part of Harry attending it Regulus was so relaxed he'd even slipped his shoes off and dipped his feet in the water, surprised by how pleasantly warm it was.

Hearing of Harry actively speaking Parseltongue was of great interest to him, his fascination with Potters child growing all the more as he took control of the situation and spoke the language he'd only heard rumor the Dark Lord could as well. Knowing the child could and actively hearing him do it twice now was enthralling, what his family would give if he could do such a thing as well! Potter and his friends treated it like some bad thing, and Regulus just had to scoff, those kids didn't know how good their life could be if they'd just be a bit smarter, instead all three reminded him of his idiotic brother.

The idea of something happening to a ghost did get his attention, a chill sweeping through him that had nothing to do with the warm sun still beating down. He couldn't blame that Ernie fellow for thinking Harry had done it given the circumstances, but a pureblood should be smarter than that! He should realize you should always look at more options available than just blaming the obvious source, shouldn't he? He was really starting to question that, considering that Hermione friend of Potter's obviously knew better but so many purebloods didn't. Then he swallowed and looked around again, waiting for his mother or one of his friends from school to spot him having such traitorous thoughts-

He cursed and jumped straight out of the enclosure in surprise, not because Potter was going to see the headmaster, but a penguin had taken a nip at his foot, apparently under the delusion it was a snack rather than toes. He drew his wand and took aim at the pestilent bird, but lowered it at the last second as he conceded he had been asking for such a thing to be happening. Then he was pulled away altogether.

#Harry Potter #fanfiction #Marauders #CoS #Wolfstar #reading the books #zoo #Regulus Black #Regulus Black and Penguins #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #Peter Pettigrew #James Potter #Lily Evans #Frank Longbottom #Alice Smith

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ohwereusingourmadeupnames · 5 years ago

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Young starker going skinny-dipping for the prompt thingy :)

I Don’t Really Like Myself Without You

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: Mature (M) Word Count: 4.3k Notes: I had a lot of fun with this one - it was cool to put them in a background that has lots of room to be explored. Warnings: They’re both 17, so there’s that. Also pool nakedness and a little bit of NSFW stuff. Summary:

Peter and Tony grew up playing baseball together and were good friends until going to different schools got in the way of that. Buying into the rivalry was well and good until pesky feelings come into play.

do the thing, send in all the prompts

Peter had an interesting history with Tony Stark. Growing up, they went to elementary school together – much like Peter, Tony was a brain and got to be in all of the gifted and talented classes. When Peter skipped from 2nd to 4th grade, he wasn’t surprised to see Tony right there with him.

At that point in their lives, they got along great – Peter and Tony played selects baseball together and spent many summer weekends huddled into one of their teammate’s hotel rooms watching whatever game they could find. Since selects brought in people from a few different towns, Peter was always grateful to have Tony around – at least he knew someone and had a familiar face to look to in those nerve-wracking social situations.

Middle school brought the divide between them and turned their relationship into something a little more – unusual. Since Springfield was so spread out, two middle and high schools catered to either side of the town. During the school year, Peter went to North Springfield and Tony went to South. As expected, the schools were rivals and the divide between them was very apparent in the way the two sets of students interacted with each other.

When they played against each other in school, it was all about being better than the other. Tony, in his coveted catcher position, taunted him behind the plate – he cat-called and talked about all of the shitty strikeouts he’d been around to see in Peter’s early playing years. In return, Peter threw all of the pitches he knew that Tony couldn’t hit – especially the curveball that just barely kissed the edge of the plate; Tony swung and missed it. Every. Time.

During the summer, however, it was like no barrier existed between them. There were practices every day of the week and they spent their weekends in hotels playing in tournaments and traveling around their little section of Pennsylvania and the surrounding states. It was easy to fall back into the pattern of being best friends and enjoying the game they’d grown up spending every second of their lives talking about and playing. Tony framed his pitches the best and always had a calming effect on him right before he stepped to the plate.

Their relationship existed on two planes and for the longest time – it worked.

Until it didn’t. The older they got, the harder it was to keep up the façade of not being friendly. With absolutely no surprise at all, Peter fell into a deep sort of love with Tony during their summers together. The friendship between them seemed more than that – especially after the last summer that they spent making out with each other every chance they got and admittedly not thinking about baseball; that was an astounding first for them both.

Heading into the summer before his senior year, Peter was more than ready to finally make things official between himself and Tony. Hometown rivalries be damned – they’d been beating around the bush with each other the entire year. Peter never felt so frustrated by text messages and the very rare times they were able to meet up with each other. The mythical reputation thing that was stopping them in the first place wasn’t worth missing out on each other – Peter was more than sure of that.

It didn’t happen as easily as he imagined it would, however. It took the usual couple of weeks to get back into the routine of playing ball with someone that was an “enemy” for so much of their recent playing time. The comfortability inevitability came back around and sunk into the game – Peter probably hadn’t ever pitched better in his entire career. Things with him and Tony, however – they were still in a hesitant sort of stage.

Peter remembered the text message conversation before the first select team practice – he’d been so excited to finally get out of the stuffy North Springfield High uniform and step into the Panther’s jersey he’d been sporting since he was 8 years old. Tony was too, but a little hesitant about expressing it. In the last couple of years, Peter noticed Tony’s reservations and wondered the part of his life that he was missing out on to recognize where they came from. He figured once they were face to face, Tony would loosen up.

To Peter’s dismay, the first travel trip came and went without the clutch of hands and desperate kisses he’d been expecting. They spent a lot of time together and exchanged the hungriest of looks, but there was something stopping them. For the first time, there was an air of acceptance that hadn’t existed before – it made the anticipation for whatever the inevitable ice breaker was that much heavier; almost enough to choke Peter out.

The week leading up to the next trip was too busy to fret about what he and Tony were doing – the team was heading to a college showcase that several of them were hoping to be seen at. Peter and Tony were both contacted by University of Arizona’s program; scouts would be in the stands getting a nice thorough look at the 5-day, 8 game series they were about to embark upon.

A couple of days later, Peter kissed May on the cheek and hopped in the car with Maria and Tony – they’d be getting on the bus with the rest of the team in a few minutes with Tony’s mom following behind in her car. His aunt and Tony’s mom switched off trips and provided the parental guidance every other baseball excursion. Maria gave him a sloppy kiss on his cheek and asked him everything she could fit in the 20-minute time span it took them to get to the bus drop off point.

Every so often, he’d meet Tony’s eyes in the rearview mirror and return the shy grin he always found on plump lips. Peter remembered the way they felt against his own and looked away when Tony recognized the blush on his cheeks. That was a start – at least Tony was actually acknowledge the flirtatious energy between them.

Getting onto the bus, Peter walked straight to the back of the bus to take the seat closest to the window on the right side of the aisle. For the past 2 summers, they got to claim the back-seat honors and it felt amazing – being one of the big dogs had its benefits. Tony sat down on the seat next to him and hefted his bag under the seat in front of him. When he sat back up, he had his AirPods in his hand, the left one being extended in Peter’s direction a couple of seconds later.

“What do you have this time?” Peter asked, his fingers slipping the headphone into his ear. He adjusted the way he was sitting in the seat and relaxed back. They were close enough together for their thighs and shoulders to brush – the tease of the caress almost enough for Peter to say, ‘fuck it’ and take Tony’s lips with his own right there on the spot.

Tony letting his hand slip between their pressed together thighs pulled a gasp from him – his leg shifting into the touch in hopes of prolonging the contact. Peter felt the backs of Tony’s fingers press into the bare skin exposed by his shorts hiking up ever so slightly. Settling more firmly into the chair, Peter was as against Tony he could be while still sitting in his own chair.

Peter cleared his throat and turned his head to look at Tony, the molten heat he saw there surprising and hot – so hot, in fact, he had to clench his free hand into a fist to stop it from reaching over and fisting into the front of Tony’s shirt. His tongue poked out to run along the seam of his lips, the surface of his skin there suddenly dry. The satisfaction he got from watching Tony not look away once gave him just enough control to sit there and play whatever this game actually was.

“I thought we could try and make it through Bowie’s Heroes album on the way up and then Young Americans on the way back. I know you said you weren’t the biggest fan when I brought him up last time, but I really think this will change your mind,” Tony said after a while, the sizzle still there between them, just not at the busting point like before. He turned on the music right around the time the bus rolled out of the parking lot and Pete let himself get lost in the music.

About halfway there, they stopped at a gas station to refuel and pick up snacks for the hotel stay. They went with Maria the day before to get their own stockpile, so Peter snagged a Gatorade and a Snickers and made his way back onto the bus. Tony was already sitting in their seats and instead of getting up, he flicked his eyes to Peter’s in a soft of challenge.

Looking around, Peter didn’t see any of their team mates anywhere in sight – so, he gripped the bag in his hand tightly and climbed over Tony’s thick thighs; the years of baseball were evident in the density of the muscle he felt there. Bravely, he let his leg linger a little longer than necessary before hiking himself up and turning until he could sit in his seat by the window. Letting out a long breath, Peter took a second to collect himself before looking back at Tony, his eyebrow arched.

Footsteps coming down the aisle stopped Peter from reaching over and grabbing the back of Tony’s neck so he could finally kiss him. Biting into his bottom lip, Peter wordlessly grabbed the headphone Tony handed him. He didn’t miss the shit eating grin on Tony’s face, either. It seemed as if the shy act was over; Tony sent the signals out and Peter was more than ready to finally return them.

----

The bus dropped them off right at the field – their first game was a couple hours later and the short span of field time they got before up pre-game minutes was already ticking down. Peter warmed up his shoulder and threw a few pitches from the mound to get used to it. The rubber strips were different everywhere they played – he felt the need to grab some comfortability before getting up and working his magic.

When Tony stood up and pulled his mask off, Peter took a deep breath and tried not to moan – he hoped he’d be able to focus later when the other was in the tight gray pants of the night’s uniform. He sent him a shy smile and grabbed the ball when Tony chucked it his way. “I don’t know what you’re doing, but keep it up – pitching like that is going to win us some games, Petey,” Tony muttered lowly, the smear of dirt on his cheek from his mask almost enough to distract Peter from the kind words coming out of his mouth.

Getting close enough, Peter bumped his shoulder against Tony’s, the hard parts of the catcher’s vest for some reason grounding. “Thanks, T – I’m feeling good right now. There’s something in the air.” Peter shot him a smirk and took a couple of steps in front of him. He turned until he was walking backwards to keep Tony in his sight. “We’ll celebrate when we win later.”

Peter felt the blush rush over his cheeks when he turned himself around and started walking forward again. That was the most forward he’d ever been – and it was perfectly clear to see that Tony understood his meaning. The smooth brown eyes he’d come to really appreciate were washed away with a deep black Peter knew to be excitement and arousal. For the first time in his entire baseball career, Peter already wanted the game to be over – the endgame waiting for him was more enticing.

Luckily, the game went off without a hitch. By the sixth and final inning when he felt his shoulder starting to get to its breaking point, Tony turned to the umpire and called a quick time out. Watching him approach, Peter felt himself take a calming breath – their eyes caught a couple of steps before Tony was within a respectable talking distance. “Need me to call it, Pete?” Tony asked outright, his glove covering his mouth so no one else could see what they were saying.

It took him a second to process the question, Peter felt the exhaustion of the day weighing his thoughts down, making them harder to get from point A to point B. “I think I’ve got it in me. Give me one more batter – I’ll hand it over if I can’t get it under control.” Peter looked at him with pleading eyes and let out a harsh breath when Tony nodded.

“I trust you. Send one right down the pipe on this first pitch back. This guy sits on his back foot too much – it’ll catch him off guard.” Tony pressed the lip of his glove against Peter’s chest and let a slow smile spread across his cheeks. “Let’s finish it.”

Tony’s presence and the slightest boost of confidence his last words gave him pushed him through the last out – he hobbled off the mound with a huge smile and another win in his pocket. The catcher’s glove that landed on his sore shoulder brought Tony right against his side – the smell of dirt and sweat making Peter’s heart rate pick up. “Knew you could pull it out, Parker,” Tony said softly, his eye crinkling with the wink he sent in Peter’s direction. “What’s on your mind for a celebration later?”

They were in the dugout by the time the question rolled off Tony’s tongue, so Peter took his time putting his glove in his bag and taking off his cleats before answering. There were several things he had in mind – many of the consisting of a very naked Tony Stark against him. However, he wasn’t able to get those words out – the virgin-ness of his tongue wreaking havoc on the many wants he could obviously see being fulfilled.

“Late night dip in the pool for old time’s sake, probably,” Peter answered finally, his brain running wild with the idea of a wet Tony within arm’s reach. Even if he didn’t get around to getting Tony’s pants off, he’d be happy to have the vision of this Tony, the one with a bit of facial hair and long messy locks, wet and smiling.

Without hesitation, Tony nodded, looking pleased. “Maria mentioned that they have a really nice outdoor pool and hot tub. Might be able to just sneak through the fence,” Tony replied, his hands busy putting the multitude of catcher’s gear into the big bag he lugged around. Peter zipped his own bag and went about helping Tony – their hands brushing with every piece he handed off.

The energy on the bus on their way back to the hotel was electric – it always felt nice to start off a long game streak with a win. Each of them knew that this would be the only real time to enjoy the hype – they played two games the next day and unfortunately landed in the back to back slot right in the dead of the afternoon. Coulson already told them that he wanted them in their rooms before 10:30PM. He threatened room checks, but the lull of red wine at the hotel bar always stopped him from following through.

Team dinner consisted of total silence while they all piled food into their mouth’s. The warm Italian food hit a certain spot after a long time out in the hot summer sun. Maria passed out push pop ice creams before everyone headed back to their rooms. Tony dug an elbow into his side and flashed the two extra red ones he managed to procure. Looking in Maria’s direction, she shot him a wink and nodded towards the door.

Despite not having a great relationship with is dad, Peter knew that Tony loved the hell out of his mom. She’d been the only one to support his love of baseball and seemed to understand him like no one else did – well, besides Peter. They’d spent too much time together over the years to not be familiar with each other; good and bad sides included.

In an attempt to cut down on the tension that continued to bubble between them, Peter pulled Tony into his arms when the door clicked shut behind them as they entered their room. Knowing Maria, she’d be at least another 20 minutes, the perfect time period to press Tony up against the door and devour his lips. He used the grip he had on the thick muscle surrounding Tony’s hip to guide him back until he was trapped between Peter and the heavy wood.

Tony met him halfway in a hot kiss – their lips slotted together and rode the wave of exploration. Every gasp and moan they pulled out of one another brought a certain depth to the kiss. Peter let Tony trace his tongue around the roof of his mouth, the warm touch the slightest bit ticklish. He tangled his own tongue with Tony’s when the desire became too much. The taste of tomato and Coke were alive in the exchange, Peter happy to categorize every flavor if he were able.

The inevitable click of the door trying to unlock had them separating – Peter retreated into the bathroom to tuck the stiffness in his pants into the waistband of his boxer briefs to at least be presentable in front of Tony’s mom. Catching his reflection in the mirror, Peter blew out a huff of breath; he looked absolutely wrecked, the flush of his cheeks just the start of the problem. He ran his fingers through his hair a couple of times before deeming it a lost cause and walking back into the room.

If anything were amiss, it was apparent. Maria patted him on the shoulder and took his place in the bathroom. Tony shot a look his way – the glance filled with amusement and gratefulness; despite how accepting she was, the last thing either of them wanted was for Maria to walk in on them doing – well, just about anything.

Settling onto the bed they were sharing, Peter flipped through the channels until he found The Dark Knight – he leaned against the headboard and let a grin slip across his face when Tony moved into his personal space and rested against him. It didn’t look like they were trying to play it completely cool – and Peter couldn’t say that he wasn’t glad.

----

It took a solid 90 minutes for either of them to feel comfortable sneaking out the door with a sleeping Maria right by it. It was 11:30 by the time they were down on the ground floor, tiptoeing towards the pool’s fence. Trying the door, Peter let out a laugh when it opened without much of a tug at all. He herded Tony in and tried to be as quiet as he could shutting the gate. Grabbing Tony’s hand when he felt secure, Peter pulled him until they were close to the edge of the shallow end.

“Any qualms with doing this without clothes?” Peter questioned, his hands already moving to pull the tank top he put on earlier off, his fingers letting it go, the fabric landing in a heap on the ground. It was risky to even think about, but Peter was hungry and if he didn’t get his hands on Tony soon, he might actually starve. A hand on his chin forced him to look up, his eyes immediately caught by Tony’s.

“Just take your pants off, Pete,” Tony said, his eyes once again completely taken over by the darkness of his dilated pupil – the hunger there apparent and clearly contagious. His cock shifted in his pants with each lick of Tony’s words across the surface of his skin. It didn’t take any mental prodding to get his hands to the front of the shorts he pulled out of his bag to act as trunks for the evening.

Before he could think himself out of it, Peter dropped them from his hips and walked to the stairs that led directly into the water. He walked lightly until he was submerged up to his hips – the distortion of the water somehow making his nakedness more apparent.

Tony wasn’t nearly as quick about it – the black swim trunks Peter recognized from the summer before hit the ground, the fabric colliding with the concrete audible in the stillness around them. He waited until Peter’s eyes roamed across his skin and settled on his own before starting towards the water. The whole thing made Peter’s skin tighten, his cock stiffening with every step Tony took.

Eventually, Peter was pinned between Tony’s arms on either side of him - the side of the pool cool against his back. Just their lower halves were submerged completely in the water. Peter watched some of the rivulets of water on Tony’s skin drip down his neck and long muscly arms, his tongue darting out as he imagined tracing its path with his it.

“I don’t want to pretend to hate you anymore. Is that okay?” Peter mumbled when Tony moved to narrow the space down between them. His hands wrapped around Tony’s middle to help with the closeness – the bump of their cocks against each other a delightful extra. “I want you, Tony.” He reiterated that fact by using his grip to pull them closer still.

Peter could feel the pulse of Tony’s cock against his own before liquid fire engulfed his mouth and spread from there down. He got his nose out of the way and deepened the kiss – the muscles of Tony’s arms framing his head tightening with every brush of their tongues against each other.

It was a little desperate, the way they attacked the connection that was finally being completely acknowledged between them – Tony chased his lips every time Peter tried to pull away to suck in a breath. The collective of it was too much - all the things Peter thought to want all wrapped up in a Tony sized packaged. Eventually, he couldn’t stand the burn of his chest and pulled away completely – the dazed look on Tony’s face was worth the desperate little sound he made.

Though he needed to take a break, his hips didn’t – Tony set a pretty decent rhythm in the roll of his hips and Peter thrust up against him to keep the contact. Peter let his head rest against the edge of the pool and his hands wander up and down the length of Tony’s back; the muscles there pulling and flexing with every move of his hips.

Tony’s lips came to rest on the soft skin of his ear, his forehead pressed against the edge of the pool, too – the move bringing them impossibly closer. “I don’t want to act like you’re not the person I’ve been in love with since we were kids,” Tony whispered against the shell of Peter’s ear, the answer to his question more than he ever thought he’d get.

Nudging with his head, Peter got Tony to pull back enough so they could see each other again – he knew that the other could feel the increased beat of his heart against his chest, but he wanted to make sure he saw it, too. “Same, Tony – let me love you, instead,” Peter uttered, his lips already making quick work of taking their place against Tony’s.

There wasn’t any more talking after that, Peter dropped his left hand between them and grasped their lengths between the circle of his thumb and fingers. Tony cupped Peter’s cheek and used the touch as leverage to move his hips a little more thoroughly.

Between the panted kisses and fumbled strokes, Peter hit the peak of the best orgasm he’d ever experienced with Tony shuttering against him. The sharpness of Tony’s teeth dug into his bottom lip and pulled another round of orgasmic shudders through him. He loosened his fingers, a whimper slipping from his lips when the warmth of Tony’s cock left him.

----

They ended up splashing around for a while more after coming down and finding the ability to move limbs in tandem again. Peter enjoyed every moment of Tony trying to dunk him and the retaliation he got when he’d pull his ankle and brought him under. The shared kisses between huffed out laughs and water splashes in the face made the disappointed face of Maria they walked into the room to a little while later totally worth it.

She must’ve been tired because she didn’t stay awake long enough to admonish them with whatever lashing they totally deserved. Peter took advantage of her back to them to pull Tony into the bathroom with him – the shower stall more than big enough to accommodate the two of them. It was quick business, but Peter enjoyed every single second of it.

The next morning, Peter felt a firm hand on his shoulder shaking him awake. “It’s time to wake up, you two,” Maria said loudly, her ‘no shit’ voice easily recognizable.

Blinking to wake up a little bit more, Peter noticed that Tony was completely spooned up behind him, their legs tangled together in a way that screamed intimacy. His hand gripped the one slung over his hips and shook it frantically.

Tony pressed a kiss to the back of his neck before realizing where the fuck they were. He popped up, his bed head from going to sleep with wet hair more out of control than usual. His eyes opened owlishly at Peter and then over at his mother, the sleepy haze of confusion clinging to him even still.

“Don’t worry – it’s about time you two finally got together.” Maria gave them both a pointed look, grabbed her purse, and walked out the door.

#starker #ironspider #au prompts #ask prompts #bobbie writes #nonnie #anonymous

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ramblings-of-a-foolish-mortal · 5 years ago

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Wolfstar Fanfic - Constellations in Your Soul.

///I started writing a Wolfstar fanfic, it’s my first fanfic that I’ve actually written with the intent to post. If you like it, let me know and I’ll post more on it. Also, plot suggestions are welcome. I’m not actually all that creative, most of the stuff I make is inspired by existing things. It would actually be really helpful if you’d leave comments and maybe be my beta readers? I’m not super great with editing. :) ///

Remus strolled through the wall that led to Platform Nine and Three Quarters after he’d replayed it over and over in his mind, both of his canvas suitcases in tow behind him. As he paced towards the train awaiting him and other students he tried to keep his eyes fixed on the ground in front of him, hoping that he wouldn’t run into anyone on his way to the doors. The stairs to the train were shorter than he remembered them being, but that could be drawn up to his growth spurt this summer. The small smile that snuck onto his face once the cool air from the inside of the train hit him was unintentional, but when you smell home, there’s not much you can do but smile. The train had a tendency to carry many smells at once and it would often overwhelm Remus’ senses to the point that he would have to cover his nose until he got to whatever booth his friends were in, but this year he’d come early for the specific reason of being able to pick an ideal booth where everyone would comfortably fit rather than one barely big enough to fit the four of them, as had happened in all previous years of riding the train.

He shifted so his things were single file with him and slipped into an empty booth in the back corner that was slightly larger than the other aisle booths. Once his luggage was in the overhead, he sat close to the glass doors of the booth, in clear sight of the aisle so he could catch James or Sirius before they went into a different compartment and made him move. Peter was always late, last year he’d almost missed the train entirely. Remus smiled slightly at the memory of his friend falling over in the middle of the walkway as the train started to move, barely pulling his bag through closing doors.

I wonder whether James or Sirius will arrive first this year. If James managed to beat Sirius to the train, Sirius would be stuck with the middle seat, which was unfortunate as he enjoyed watching the scenery pass by. Remus could easily recall most of Sirius’ facial expressions, and he always seemed peaceful when watching the scenery pass by, even if it was moving too fast to distinctly make out. However, if Sirius got here first, James would spend the whole time getting up to go get snacks or to flirt with Lily Evans. Poor Lily, she has to put up with James being even more obnoxious than he is around me. He smiled slightly, becoming lost in thought about his friends, and about how the upcoming year would turn out. Surely they could have one year where no one almost died in a Quidditch match or deciding to explore the Forbidden Forest. Then again, he was friends with James Potter and Sirius Black. If anything did happen, he was sure he would be in the middle of it with them. Maybe I can try to reason them out of doing something lethally idiotic-

His thoughts were interrupted by Sirius knocking on the glass of the compartment door before sliding in, flashing Remus one of those confident smiles he threw around. Remus stood, hugging him with a light clap on the back.

“Hey Remus! Did you do anything fun this summer?” Sirius pulled out of the hug after a moment, though he seemed a little stiff, and heaved his things into the overhead before sitting down. Remus sat back down by the glass door, offering a shrug with his response. “If by fun you mean idiotic and likely resulting in injury, no.” Sirius made a small offended noise, as if he didn’t know exactly what Remus was jabbing at. “However, I did acquire something you might want to use.”

Sirius noted the glint in Remus’ eye and grinned. Most people probably would have thought he was the innocent caretaker of the group, but the fact was, he was most often the main perpetrator in planning each prank and assault. Sirius made a hand motion that could be easily interpreted as, Hand it over. Remus handed Sirius a bottle of muggle hair dye. They both gave somewhat villainous smiles before quickly returning back to normal behavior as Remus barely caught sight of James before he burst into the compartment. Sirius shoved the bottle into his robes inner pocket.

“Helloooooo Beauties! How are you guys! I hope you’re ready because I’ve been planning pranks and ‘creative activities’ all summer.” Sirius stood to give James a bone-crushing hug, back and shoulders stiffening when James squeezed back, before sitting back down. Remus frowned slightly at that, though started smiling again once in Sirius’ line of sight. James tossed his things carelessly into the overhead on Sirius’ side, all but falling into his seat as he launched into his plans for this year. Is he uncomfortable, maybe his muscles are stiff if he did something strenuous recently. Remus grimaced slightly at the not-so-faint scent of fabric softener, covering his nose while his thoughts were interrupted with a wave of nausea. James went on about letting loose a number of nifflers in the Great Hall, setting off fireworks over Gryffindor Tower, hiding tiny rubber ducks (a muggle toy) all over the prefects bathroom, and a number of other pranks that would likely require much revision by Remus to be feasible. It took him a couple minutes to realise Remus was looking nauseous.

“Remus, you look pale. What’s up?” James frowned slightly, worried about his friend. Remus couldn’t do much about it and simply summarized,

“Just the smell, James. Did your family begin using a new fabric softener in the wash?” He crossed his legs so his stomach didn’t feel so uneasy. “Sirius, would you open the window, please.” his voice came out a mutter through the sleeve of his robes. Sirius immediately pulled open the window, looking mildly concerned. Remus felt a surge of appreciation as fresh air flooded the compartment.

“Actually, yeah. I think my mum switched which one she uses. Is it bothering you?” James took off his Robe. “She washed my robe this morning, sorry. I didn’t think about the smell.” James stuffed the robe into this bag, hoping that would limit the scent for Remus.

Remus shrugged. “It’s not your fault James, you don’t have to apologize. Thank you for putting it away.” He kept his sleeve up to cover his mouth and nose for a while before he felt his nose was safe enough to lower it. James continued on about where he thought they could get the nifflers, and about where to acquire the fireworks for Gryffindor Tower, though Remus didn’t miss the occasional glance to check on him. Peter didn’t get to their compartment until the train was starting to pull out of station, huffing for air while looking somewhat exhausted.

“H-hi guys, I’m sorry I’m late… Again. I really didn’t- didn’t mean to, there was bad traffic and then I saw this cat at Kingscross Station and it was so cute, I couldn’t-” Sirius gave him a huge hug, similar to the ones he’d given Remus and James. Chamomile and mint seemed to be faintly emanating off of Peter.

“No problem, Pete! At least you’re on the train. I almost thought you weren’t going to make it.” Sirius spoke as he sat down while Peter climbed on the seat to push his bags into the overhead on Remus’ side. Remus smiled slightly at Peter, still a little sick to his stomach, but feeling much better than earlier.

“Nice to see you after summer break, Peter. Is your garden doing well?” Remus smiled slightly at the light that overtook Peter's expression.

“Oh, yes! My Lavender and Chamomile are maturing beautifully. I even brought some homemade tea-bags, I designed the mixture myself. I think you’ll like it. There’s mint in it too, and some other things, the odor shouldn’t be too strong, so you’ll be able to drink it even around full-moon.” Peter rushed the words out quickly, digging around in his pockets before pulling out a small cloth bag with the mixture inside. Remus smiled wider, letting Peter place it in his palm before his hands returned to his pockets and pulled out a small strip of woven embroidery thread, running his fingers over it and twisting it into different shapes.

“Thank you, Peter. I really appreciate it.” Remus put the cloth bag in his robes inner pocket.

The ride to Hogwarts seemed shorter than the actual 9 hour ride, but that was likely because they spent the whole time either talking or sleeping. Remus spent only the last 20 minutes dozing in his corner, abruptly woken by the train’s whistle, alerting everyone of their soon arrival. James was continually talking, frequently interrupted by Sirius interjecting another thought that was usually more stupid or more dangerous. They hustled out of the compartment and off of the train. Remus and Peter were mostly quiet while navigating through hundreds of students and dozens of teachers helping to guide the tide of children and adolescents.

Remus kept a careful eye on Sirius and James so he didn’t lose them, while Peter was barely avoiding running into Remus with all the people trying to shove past and into them. I hate crowds. So many people. Too many smells. Remus grimaced at the clashing sounds and sights of the hoard around them. Relatively soon everyone halted, waiting for transportation up to the school grounds.

The school kept transportation orderly, sending each group of 4 to 5 students up to the school grounds 5 or 6 groups at a time. It wasn’t much of a wait to be able to sit down in the Great Hall. Everyone was very loud, voices garbling and rumbling over each other before they got to Remus’ ears. He glanced over at James, then felt his eyes roll while James was unabashedly staring at a red-headed Lily Evans only six or seven seats down. Sirius frowned when he saw Remus’ reaction before seeing the cause and grinning evilly.

Sirius threw a roll at James’ head to snap him out of it. “Careful, James. Or you face might get stuck in a stupid look. Oh, sorry, I forgot it was already stuck like that.”

James scoffed at that, throwing the roll back at Sirius. “Whatever, Drama Queen.” Remus smiled a bit, sighing. This is going to be a very long year, isn’t it? He glanced at Sirius, then felt his face flush a little. God damn he’s beautiful though.

Sirius shifted how he was sitting throughout the meal, leaning forward, or slouching a bit, or propping a leg up on his knee. It wasn’t uncomfortable shifts, but they made him look more ordinary than the rest of his family. His sibling, cousins, his whole family sat with stiff backs and airy postures. No doubt that’s his intent though. Remus noted how much more down to earth and grounded Sirius had always been. Stomach laughs and crooked smiles and mischief. None of his family’s superiority bullshit. Remus risked a glance at Sirius, trying to pinpoint why his movements were off. He seemed fine moving around, but every so often he’d start moving one way and abruptly stop, like something was blocking him. What on earth?

Remus kept a careful eye on Sirius the rest of dinner, even while the first years were being sorted into their houses. Sirius wasn’t entirely oblivious to Remus’ attention and looks of concern, but he didn’t seem to mind or care. Near the end of dinner, Remus mouthed, ‘Are you okay?’ Sirius only gave a stupid smile and nodded, like ‘Duh, why wouldn’t I be.’ Remus frowned as Sirius turned away from their brief interaction to talk to James and Peter. He’s definitely not okay…

As dinner came to a close, everyone started trickling out of the Great Hall, tired and full of food. Peter was the first to turn in.

“I’ll see you guys in the dorm room, I’m kind of tired though, so I might be asleep. See you tomorrow.” He gave a wave before quickly walking off to the dorm rooms. Peter tended to walk quickly, avoiding attention where he could.

“He had a good idea there.” James shrugged, standing only a few minutes after Peter left. “I’ve got to get my beauty sleep if I want Evans to fall for me, and most of the people should already be in bed. I’ll see you boys later in the dormitories.” He gave a quick smile and walked off slowly, winking at Lily on his way out. She only rolled her eyes at him and continued on with her current conversation.

Remus was quiet for a few minutes before looking Sirius in the eyes, a controlled expression on his face. “Sirius, what’s wrong.” Sirius’ face was blank for a moment before smiling widely, though his eyes looked caught.

“What do you mean? You shouldn’t be all cryptic Remus, someone might mistake your sock-folding arse for a mysterious type.” he pointed at Remus. “You do know girls go for the mysterious quiet type, don’t you?”

“Stop deflecting. I know something is wrong. You don’t have a full range of movement and you keep flinching when you try to move your shoulder back. I can’t figure out if you got injured or if you’re just feeling weird today. I mean it’s not like-” Remus paused, eyes widening. -like somebody beat you. He was about to say. Poor choice of words Remus. You know how his family treats him. “Oh. This morning?” Remus frowned, studying Sirius’ face. Sirius frowned, nodding in small motions. “You haven’t had somebody look at it yet, have you.” Sirius shook his head, lips pulled tight. Oh I am going to murder them. Just as soon as I get the chance their heads are going t-

“Remus, you’re getting angry again.” Sirius spoke quietly, calmly, gently taking Remus’ attention.

“I thought you said they were going to control themselves over the summer. They said they’d minimize damage.” Remus couldn’t help the slight growl that crept into his voice. He’s my friend. It should be me instead. He doesn’t deserve this, I do. Why does he have the shitty family? Remus knew his thought process was illogical. Neither of them had control over their families or who was in them, but he still felt that Sirius deserved none of the lot given to him.

“They did. This was the first time in two weeks, Remus. Calm down a bit. I was going to ask you to help me out a bit once the others were in bed.” Sirius gave a small comforting smile. Sirius is in pain and he’s comforting me?

“Yeah...okay. Abandoned bathroom?” Remus looked to Sirius for his response, wanting to help. Sirius gave a quick nod and they both stood up, walking out of the Great Hall. At least he’ll be safe here at school. I’m glad we get to go to Hogwarts.

#wolfstar #sirius x remus #fanfic #sirius needs a hug #sirius black #remus lupin #marauders #james potter #angsty sirius #slightly angsty #angst #comfort #harry-potter #harry potter marauders #first fanfic #constellations-in-you-soul

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petersmparker · 6 years ago

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The River Café (Peter Parker x Reader)

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader, Flash Thompson x Reader (as a Plot Device™️ (that I ended up being lowkey attached to?? hit me up flash))

Summary: You’ve decided that you’re going to go out and have a nice time, insistent feelings for your best friend Peter Parker or otherwise.

Word Count: 3757

Warnings: a spicey hint of sailor’s mouth

A/N: I started this two days ago and nearly shitcanned it but now I’m like... kinda in love with it?? I hope y’all like it, I know sticking Flash up in there is unusual but honestly I dig how it came together and I hope everyone’s willing to give it a shot 💙❤️ and also believe me when I say that Flash’s name is legitimately Eugene I fucking swear it (side note: consider this part of my congratulations to @moonstruckholland for one year on her blog!! I hope you enjoy this girl idk what your fic prefs are)

"Let's go on a date friday night."

Your group of friends has grown together over the past few years. Leaps and bounds past what you ever might have expected, even. It’s something that you still find yourself reassessing sometimes; occasionally getting caught off guard by something that’s actually pretty natural by now. You can’t help but be pleasantly surprised, though, when you catch yourself thinking back to what it was while witnessing what it is.

Sophomore year of highschool was a ton of awkwardness wrapped up in a silly belief that everyone had already become the person they were meant to be. Senior year, you find it much more appealing to declare just how much no one knows that they’re doing.

The one constant for you in all this time has been Peter. Peter, ever-changing, ever-moving, ever-working, has not remained static in his existence. He has, however, stayed unwaveringly connected to you. For him, you do the same.

You’re there when Uncle Ben dies, sitting in the stairwell of the funeral home when Peter can’t handle another person passing on their condolences. It’s you who makes Peter do his homework and study for his tests when he determines that he doesn’t need school anymore. Your eyes follow him as he sprints from the gymnasium on the night of homecoming, and again later when he decides to sneak off the bus to investigate the space ship descending upon New York. When you wake up on the other side of the Blip, it’s you who runs to Peter’s apartment to find him mourning the loss of his mentor.

“Don’t you get tired?” Peter asked once in junior year, as you wiped blood from his side with a wet wash cloth, fuming over the newest live report of J Jonah Jameson, “You don’t wish you didn’t have to deal with all of this?”

“Never,” you had responded, “I. . . I love you, Pete.”

Peter had given you a small, weak smile and returned to digging through the first aid kit, seemingly untouched by your admission. It’s not difficult to assume that he had interpreted it friendly in nature, and you figure that that’s proof enough of his nonexistent feelings for you.

That's why, a year later-- assured in the belief that Peter views you only as a friend and comfortable enough in the fact that you’re still figuring this whole life thing out-- you decide to accept the offer of one Flash Thompson for a date.

What’s the harm, you figure. It seems casual enough, and Flash had mellowed out over the years. He's no longer quite so quick to tease others or flaunt his wealth, and had become a relatively decent friend of yours. Worst case scenario, it’s awkward, you get a free meal, and the both of you continue on to pretend it didn’t happen. Best case. . .

Maybe you move on from Peter.

Peter shows up unannounced at your door late Friday afternoon with a backpack full of schoolwork and snacks. It's not unusual of him at all, and yet when you hurry to answer the door, the sight of him catches you by surprise.

His gaze flicks upward to your wet hair, twisted into a towel, and then down to your hands, which you're holding out cautiously to avoid ruining a fresh coat of black polish. The confusion on his face is amused in nature. You're not normally one to paint your nails unless there's an event going on.

"Uh, hi, Peter," you say, trying not to sound unwelcoming.

This is such bad timing.

"Hey," he greets, hand wrapping around the strap of his backpack, "What's up? I was thinking we could do homework for an hour and then give up to watch movies instead."

You hadn't told Peter about the date. Telling him, you feared, would feel like you were asking for him to disapprove. To ask you not to go. It wasn't a disappointment you were willing to inflict upon yourself. Not when you were feeling a bit of hope for the outcome of the date. You wanted to be enthusiastic; wanted to enjoy the company of a friend and see if something could come out of it that was more than hopeless pining.

"I kind of have plans," you admit, unable to meet his eye.

Confusion colors his tone now, too. "Oh, really? Well, uh, do you mind if I come in for a little while anyway? Since I'm here. I need a bit of help with the English assignment."

Part of you wants to say no. But you can't look at Peter Parker and turn him away, and so you back up to let him into your apartment. He knows the way to your room by now and leads the way there. Every available surface is littered with items of clothing. He'd seen your room somewhat messy before, but you can tell he isn't expecting it to look like a tornado has been through your closet. You avoid his eyes, embarrassed, when he turns to give you a questioning look.

He throws himself onto your bed, shifting to sit with his back against the headboard, and digs a notebook from his bag. After a moment, he pulls a dress out from under himself and puts it aside.

You find yourself standing awkwardly in the doorway. A glance at the alarm clock on your nightstand tells you that Flash will be picking you up in only forty-five minutes. Peter clearly doesn't intend to leave until he's asked, and you don't have the will to ask. Which means you're going to have to just finish getting ready, anyway, and send him off before Flash arrives.

"What did you need help with?" You ask, going over to the dresser to look into the mirror above it.

You remove the towel from your hair to find that it's mostly dry. Satisfied, you brush it all back, away from your face. You see him looking at you in the mirror, but attempt to ignore it. It's already uncomfortable enough preparing for a date in front of the guy you're in love with. Must he make you feel weird for prettying yourself up a bit, even inadvertently?

What did I do to deserve this? you wonder, and apply a hint of peach eyeshadow with the tip of your finger.

He looks back to the notebook. You pretend not to notice that, either.

"The argumentative essay," he says finally, with a sigh, "Mr. Sharpton said my thesis needs work."

"Sharpton tends to be a picky little bitch. Read it to me," you instruct, dabbing glitter onto your eyelids and across your freckles.

He does. It's not the worst thesis statement. The intention is clear. Peter's always been better with math and science, but he's never been hopeless with English, either. "Well, you've got all three prongs already," you start, before pausing to apply a healthy amount of clear gloss, "They're just not parallel. It sounds awkward. For what you're trying to say, you could probably just reorganize the sentence, but structure it around the phrase, 'Through the author's use of. . . '" you wave your hand, indicating his points, "'. . .blah blah blah is represented.'"

Peter hums in understanding, followed by the scratching of pen against paper. You take the time to apply mascara and go about picking through the clothes strewn around the room to reassess what to wear. Kneeling on the floor, you throw various clothes back toward the open closet door.

Too casual, too dressy, too casual, too casual, that's stained, ew.

Your cell phone beeps on the bedside table. The sound of pen on paper ceases. Before you can say anything, Peter, who've never minded reading your texts, picks it up out of habit. He reads the message out to you.

"Um. Flash says to wear something fancy?" He says, sounding disconcerted.

The sick feeling in your stomach is immediate.

"Uhh. Thanks."

You pull the black dress that you'd deemed too dressy back out of the closet, hoping to appear more casual and less about-to-vomit. Thirty minutes left. Not even that much. Just twenty minutes and you could have sent Peter home none the wiser and had an extra ten to hype yourself up for this date, but now you're confronted with the fact that Peter knows. He knows and you're going to have to hear about it.

"You're going out with Flash?" He asks as you attempt to quell your nerves by focusing very hard on removing the couple of cat hairs that stick to the velvet material of the dress.

"Yeah."

"Like, on a date?"

"Yeah."

You risk a glance at Peter. His expression is unreadable. The sight of it makes your stomach twist. To escape it, you step into the closet and close the door under the guise of changing clothes.

"How did that happen?" Peter calls through the door.

You wince. There's something in his tone like disappointment, and you realize that you never considered the possibility that he might judge you for your willingness to go on a date with Flash. Sure, they were something like friends nowadays, but maybe that didn't mean Peter actually genuinely liked the guy. The prospect of having just lost Peter's respect is like a needle to the heart.

"He- He asked me out after decathlon the other day. I thought it might be fun."

"That's. . . interesting," Peter says, tone still off in some way.

The feeling that spreads through you is gross. There's a bitter taste in your mouth. You hate it. This was supposed to be something simple, something nice you could enjoy for yourself. You don't want Peter to ruin it for you, whether or not that's his intention.

You tug on the dress hurriedly and exit the closet, doing your best to maintain some sort of neutrality in your expression. "Flash is my friend. He said he that he kinda likes me and it seemed like it would be nice to go out with him," you say, "Whats wrong with that, Peter?"

Peter looks like he's been accused. Your tone wasn't as calm as intended, so it's no surprise.

"Nothing!" He responds, throwing his hands up in a placating gesture, "It's just- it's weird, isn't it?"

It feels like the air has been sucked out of your room. Your ears ring. In the back of your head, you know-- you know he only means it's weird because it's Flash you're about to go out with. But you're being faced with a conversation you didn't want, forced to acknowledge that you were never going to just find a person who makes you laugh and be able to just get the hell over Peter, and what comes out reflects the hurt feelings that are eating at you in the moment.

"Weird?" You demand, "Is it really so goddamn weird that someone could have feelings for me, Peter? Just because you don't-!"

Anger and hurt clouds your brain and you lose your train of thought entirely, breaking off in an involuntary scoff. You snatch your shoes off the floor and your apartment keys off the dresser. It isn't until you've stalked over to the nightstand to grab your phone that you continue.

"I'm leaving. I'm going on that date with Flash and I'm going to enjoy myself. Lock the door on your way out."

Peter's still on the bed, unmoved. He looks more startled than he's ever been by something you've said, and then even more so when you toss the apartment keys in his direction.

When you storm out of your own home, shoes still clutched in your hand, you try desperately to wipe from your mind the image of the shocked look on your best friend's face.

The date is nice.

Like, actually, genuinely nice.

Flash happens to arrive at your building just in time to find you gazing hard into the glass of the lobby. You're swiping frustratedly at the mascara that has run with the few angry tears you couldn't prevent. You manage to play the makeup off as no big deal, but his eyes drift immediately to your bare feet and the shoes clutched in your left hand. There's no good explanation for being shoeless on a New York City street.

"Do I want to ask?" He questions, looking kinda grossed out and at least moderately concerned.

"Please don't," you answer.

He opens the car door for you like you haven't already ruined your chances of impressing him, and you can't help but marvel at how different he is from the Flash of two years ago, who would most definitely have gotten back in his car and sped off.

The drive is long and Flash won't tell you what the destination is. You pass the time with chatter, not all that different from what you'd probably be exchanging in study hall. The convertible's roof is down, which makes it difficult not to look up for a hint of red and blue passing by, but Flash stares up openly for his idol when the car is stopped.

You don't think Spider-Man will be out tonight.

After a while, you cross the Brooklyn Bridge. Flash hands the keys over to the valet of the restaurant and helps you out of the car. He makes a joke about how your shoes better be on, but you barely hear.

"Flash, really?"

"What?"

The entrance to the restaurant is beautiful, lit with warm-colored string lights and surrounded by luscious greenery. You recognize the name on the sign, hand-painted in green; your parents had come here for their 25th anniversary a while back.

"This place is really fucking expensive," you say, and suddenly become very aware of the fact that you hadn't brought your wallet.

"I like the side dishes here," he says, like the scalloped potatoes wouldn’t cost a normal person half a fridge of groceries.

"You're nuts."

Flash buttons the top two buttons of his plaid suit jacket and takes your hand. Your stomach flips. From nerves or guilt, you're not sure. It's probably both.

"Do you have a reservation?" Asks the Maître D' when you enter.

You're prepared to have to leave, figuring that a spot at a swanky place like this would need to be reserved months in advance, but Flash pulls out his license to show to the man.

"Yes we do. 6:30, under the name Eugene Thompson."

"This way then, Mr. Thompson."

Your table next to the window overlooks the East River. The dining room has already begun to fill with the dinner rush and the little band in the corner is playing a sweet-sounding song. The menu is astronomically expensive, but Flash urges you to get whatever you want. You settle for the cheapest chicken dish on the menu and take to watching the boats pass beneath the Brooklyn Bridge. Flash orders a meat and cheese plate to start, unsurprisingly, and arranges combinations on bread and crackers for you to try.

It's more fun than you ever expected it to be, honestly. You'd been prepared for Flash to be a bit much after having agreed to let him choose the date, but he's just trying to make sure you enjoy yourself. He makes jokes and laughs at your own. Refills your drink from the water flute before you've even noticed you've gotten low. Offers you a taste of his meal. You're distracted, Peter no longer at the forefront of your mind.

With Flash, it's easy.

"I'll be honest, Eugene," you start, teasingly, and giggle at Flash's fake-annoyed attempt to jokingly swat at the side of your head, "This is. . . This is really, really nice. My wig is sufficiently snatched."

He busts out laughing, earning a look from those at nearby tables. After a few moments, he quiets and takes to smiling down at his steak.

His smile softens into something a bit awkward, maybe somewhat unsure, when he says, “Can I ask you something?”

Your heart involuntarily skips a beat. When is that question ever a good sign? “I- uh, yeah. Sure. What’s up?”

“What’s up with you and Parker?”

When you meet Flash’s eye, he doesn’t appear accusatory. He doesn’t even seem upset. More than anything, you’d say he looks confused. You, however, can feel heat rising aggressively to your cheeks.

You feel guilty again.

“Peter? What do you mean?”

He rolls his eyes good-naturedly in response and sets down his fork. “Oh, come on now. You like him right? Since like, middle school.”

You know you’ve never really actively tried to hide it from anyone, but having it said aloud like that is jarring. It’s embarrassing. You wonder why Flash wants to talk about this, of all things, when your date had actually been going pretty darn well. But you decide to be honest, since fooling him is unrealistic.

“A while, yeah.”

“Then why are you on a date with me right now?” Flash questions.

“You. . . you asked me out?” You answer confusedly.

He passes a hand through his hair a bit agitatedly. You hope he isn’t annoyed with you, but you aren’t sure what he’s expecting you to say.

“I mean,” he clarifies, a laugh escaping his lips, “Why the hell aren’t you dating him? It’s been years already. Did you guys decide that you didn’t want to risk ruining your friendship? What’s up?”

It seems that your brain is exclusively capable of performing the sound of a record scratch on repeat. You have no idea how to respond to anything Flash has just said. None of it makes sense. Peter doesn’t like you. He never has. If Flash has paid enough attention to notice how much you like your best friend, surely he should have noticed that your affection is definitely not returned.

You don't want to think about it. You don't want a spark of hope, only for it to be stomped on. Today's events alone have been proof enough that Peter doesn't like you.

"Why did you ask me out if you knew I like Peter?" You question, staring down at your half-eaten chicken parmesan.

"Why did you agree if you like Peter?"

You can feel him looking at you. When you decide to meet his eye, you're scared to see the hurt that's in them.

It's not there.

"You were hoping to get over him, right?" Flash asks, half a smile on his face, "I was hoping you would, too."

He takes your hand for the first time since you entered the restaurant, and you realize that if anything, he maybe kind of gets it.

“Peter doesn’t have feelings for me,” you manage to say, after several long moments of silence have passed.

“Dude, Parker’s in love with you.”

Considering everything, the ride home isn't nearly as awkward as it could have been.

Flash parks a little ways down the street from your building. He doesn't get up to help you out of the car like he had before. You can't really hold that against him.

"Sorry about all this," you say, guilt still swirling low in your gut, after you've shut the passenger side door.

He side eyes you when he says, "Don't flatter yourself, honey, I'll get over it," and grins, "Go tell Parker that I will actually straight up call my lawyers if he fucks this up now that I've laid all this shit out for him."

With that, he waves his hand once and then pulls away from the curb.

Thanks Eugene, is the text you send him during the walk home.

He responds with selfie of him flipping off the camera, and things are just about as close to normal between you as you figure they can be, for now. It's with a laugh that you send one back, shoes once again clutched in your flipping-off hand as you knock on the door to your apartment and wait for your parents to let you in.

Peter opens the door.

Your smile freezes in its place and then falls. His gaze averts quickly to the floor, like he's just done something wrong. You aren't sure what to say to him. "You're still here," you settle on pointing out, eventually.

"How'd it go?" He asks, skipping over the part where he explains the fact that he's still in your apartment.

He looks very much like he doesn't want to hear the answer, but also like he's trying to sound enthusiastic for you. Your heart aches. It's been hours since you'd left, and he's been sitting here marinating in the fight. Meanwhile, while you were fine dining with a friend who turned out to be way better of a friend than you'd thought he was.

"We enjoyed ourselves," you admit.

"Oh," he responds, voice a bit shaky, "That's good. I mean- It's great. That's really great. I'm glad. I'm happy for you."

"Hey, Peter?"

"Yeah?"

Your throat wants to close when you look into his eyes, but you press on.

"Are you in love with me?"

". . .Yeah."

Despite the fact that you grasp the front of his shirt in your fist when you lean in to kiss him, it's neither hurried nor forceful. It's a response, and an assurance. You pull back enough to see his eyebrows knitted together in confusion, then kiss him a second time, just a peck.

He leans his forehead against yours, sighing in relief. The tension that he must have been holding in his body releases, and you feel his stance soften with your hand still against his chest.

"I should have told you," he murmurs, reaching up to cup your jaw.

You can't help but crack a smile. "Yeah, Pete. Flash had to tell me. On our date."

"That's so awkward."

You laugh. "You're tellin' me."

He leans away from you when he exclaims, suppressing his laughter, "Hey, you didn't tell me, either!"

"Oh my god, Peter," you gush, "Yes I did! Over a year ago!"

His smile falls like he's just had the air knocked out of him. "You what?"

"Oh my god," you repeat, shaking your head in disbelief, "oh my god."

Peter falls into a slew of apologies, but you're starting to laugh, and they start to die on his lips just ask quickly as they had begun to form. You pull him forward by his shirt once more and kiss him in the doorway, revelling in the ridiculousness of it all.

"I'm in love with you too," you sigh.

If his delighted smile weren't already enough, the kiss that follows more than makes up for it.

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@undiadeestos

#peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fic #peter parker x reader #peter parkerxreader #peter parker reader insert #peter parker self insert #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman fic #marvel fanfiction #flash thompson #flash thompson x reader

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davidmann95 · 6 years ago

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Best comics of 2018?

A handful of disqualifications up front: since they’re just beginning, I’m not counting Electric Warriors, Martian Manhunter, The Green Lantern (though Evil Star explaining his name in #2 might be my favorite moment in comics this year), Ironheart, DIE, Shazam!, Killmonger, The Batman Who Laughs, or Miles Morales: Spider-Man, all of which almost certainly would have ended up somewhere in here with some more time. Additionally, I switched to a new online pull list system in March, so I don’t have a list of what I got before then - if I’m forgetting about something great that came out early this year, there’s a good chance that would be why.

Honorary Mentions: While there were plenty of comics I was happy to keep up with, a number stood out as exemplary examples of straight-take relatively traditional capeshit: Scott Snyder, James Tynion IV and companies’ Justice League, Steve Orlando’s Justice League of America (which would probably go among the best of the best if the art was a bit more consistent or the lineup more to my personal tastes), Brian Bendis and Nick Derington’s Batman work in the Walmart 100-Page Giants, Donny Cates’ Thanos and Doctor Strange work (the latter might not have quite made it, but that last issue with Irving and Zdarsky was gangbusters), Steve Orlando’s brief Wonder Woman run with Laura Braga, ACO, and Raul Allen, Tim Seeley’s Green Lanterns, Nnedi Okorafor and Leonardo Romero’s Shuri, Robert Vendetti and Bryan Hitch’s Hawkman, Saladin Ahmed, Javier Rodriguez, Rod Reis, Dario Brizuela, and Joe Quinones’s Exiles, Captain America by both the Mark Waid/Chris Samnee team and the current Ta-Nehisi Coates/Lenil Francis Yu lineup, Dan Slott and Valerio Schiti’s Tony Stark: Iron Man when it’s committed solely to being a superhero comic and not Dan Slott trying to be Contemporary, Brian Bendis, Patrick Gleason, Yanick Paquette, and Ryan Sook’s Action Comics, and Kelly Thompson and Stefano Caselli’s West Coast Avengers.

On the slightly different side of things, Steve Orlando and Giovanni Timpano showed how you do an intercompany crossover right with The Shadow/Batman, Max Bemis’s Moon Knight while not living up to all it could have been - and likely to age poorly - had moments of truly bizarre grace, Saga was Saga even if I’ve lost the plot, Ahmed and Christian Ward’s Black Bolt concluded as well as we all might have hoped, Warren Ellis and Jon Davis-Hunt’s The Wild Storm continued to build up steam in its own fascinating style, Doomsday Clock remains utterly captivating in spite of itself, and Tom Peyer and Jamal Igle’s The Wrong Earth is making the most of a deceptively tough premise. On the one-off end, Chip Zdarsky and Declan Shalvey’s Marvel Two-In-One Annual is an essentially perfect off-kilter Doom/Richards story, Action Comics #1000 had no chance of living up to all it needed to be but was largely a great set of Superman stories regardless, and while the remainder of the miniseries has thus far been fine, Tim Seeley and Carlos Villa’s first issue of Shatterstar was a strange, special delight.

My Favorite Comics of 2018

Rock Candy Mountain: Technically Jackson - the rail-rider who can beat Any One Man in a fistfight - reached the end of his journey for hobo heaven this year, and flat-out, every Kyle Starks comic is a perfect one. This is a book where the first issue has a dude beating ass with a beautiful savagery that leaves an awestruck onlooker declaring “He’s got punch diarrhea and their faces are the toilet bowl”, and by the end it built up to one of the most moving climaxes of the year. It’s a comic about fallen men finding redemption in friendship and in dreams, and also there’s a cage fighter who calls himself Hundred Cats because it would be really hard to fight a hundred cats.

Dark Knights: Metal: This is the final, perfected form of traditional Event Comic Bullshit. Everything good about Snyder, Capullo, Glapion, and Plascencia’s Batman post-Court Of Owls is retooled and reenergized to fit the scale of a Crisis event, everything that I would have considered to be a weakness regarding their partnership either burned away or placed in a context where it becomes a strength. This is the Morrison approach to the DCU rightfully ascendant and presented in a form even more fit for mass consumption, and manages to live up to being the first classic-style, large-scale DC event comic in almost a decade - Marvel may blow its own load every six months until it’s simply got nothing to offer anymore, but DC waited until they really and truly had something, and that something was bloodsoaked magic.

Peter Parker: The Spectacular Spider-Man (by Chip Zdarsky and assorted artists): I actually wavered a bit on whether this belonged in the best of the best as a whole; most of the issues this year were definitely very good (regarding Zdarsky’s run specifically, I haven’t checked out the Spider-Geddon tie-in stuff), but more on the honorary mention end of the scale. Ultimately however, the Amazing Fantasy arc and #310 are Spider-Man comics I’m going to be coming back to for years to come - the latter is going to end up in every ‘Best Spider-Man Stories Ever’ softcover from now until the end of time - and they tipped the scales.

Batman: Very much in the same boat as Spidey above; a lot of this year didn’t do it for me in the same way as this run has in the past, but The Best Man is the best thing anyone’s done with Joker since Morrison, the ‘wedding issue’ itself worked really well for me, Cold Days made a premise that’s often stymied creators work as well as people have always wanted it to, and the Dick team-up issue was a perfect little summation of a relationship, nevermind how much this year succeeded in getting me hyped up for things to come.

The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl: This is one of those comics where it’s so consistently good in such a specific, quiet way that people stop talking about it, but for real, this has never not in the top five or six things Marvel is publishing at any given time for as long as it’s been around. Erica Henderson leaving right before hitting the Kraven story that had been building literally since its first issue 3 years earlier could have been disastrous, but North and new artist Derek Charm manage to hit their own rhythm and continue delivering one of the funniest, cleverest, most sincere superbooks on the stands every month.

Mister Miracle: Yeah, it really was that good.

The Immortal Hulk: So is this, and if I have to name a single best comic of the year, this has probably gotta be it. Al Ewing’s been Marvel’s best creator for a long, long time, and putting him and Joe Bennett (who holy moley, I don’t think anyone would have guessed had this in him) on a tentpole character Ewing’s got genuine reverence for worked out even better than a fanboy like me might have expected. It’s sublime horror, it’s perfect Marvel comics continuity bullshit, and if the superhero is at heart a morality fable, this is very much a soul-searing apex of the genre as it speaks of how we can all go wrong.

Eternity Girl: …or maybe this is the best? It’s probably gotta be this, Hulk, or Miracle. Mister Miracle’s where the comparison really becomes clear, as they’re both books way out on the fringes of the DCU dealing with a character grappling with depression amidst the mundanity of their cyclical existence. However, as perfectly constructed and rawly human as Mister Miracle is, this hits a lot more of my own buttons and expresses its own brand of more surreal emotional authenticity, and rather than the expected and beautiful next step of a pair of already-acclaimed creators with an established partnership, this was a shock coming out party for Visaggio and Liew, who do things stylistically just as odd to see in a DC Comic as anything King and Gerads came up with. It seemed to sail under the radar for readers but also seems to be racking up awards, and I hope this’ll attain the reputation it deserves in years to come.

Ice Cream Man: Likely the respectable fourth place to the three above, while I can’t quite sing its praises in quite the same way when it’s playing so hard-to-get that I can’t quite put a pin in what it’s ultimately about, oh my GOD this is as good as gut-punch horror gets. Not simply grody shock-value stuff, but pit-of-your-stomach-everything-in-the-world-hates-you-and-you-were-wrong-to-ever-believe-in-love shit that’ll rattle your bones and fuck you up good. Not usually a horror guy myself, but this is an essentially perfect comic.

The Man Of Steel: Screw all y’all, this kicked ass and after how hard the Rebirth books blew it - Jon and the new status quo were both excellent, Tomasi had good bits here and there alongside some quality fill-in teams, but those books were still aaaaaaaaaaassssss - this is exactly the fresh start Superman’s needed for years. Granted the Fabok interstitials had some wonky pacing, but this was on-point and insightful for Superman as a character, exciting as hell, and has thus far led to nothing but more good comics as far as I’m concerned.

Milk Wars: Did the various tie-ins live up to the bookends? Nah, though the Shade/Wonder Woman story was pretty good. But those bookends? Friends, those books were AAA+ sup-per-he-ro-bull-SHIT, and while I was initially let down because it seemed as though it would have Superman in a major role and then didn’t, this is even more of an apotheosis of the Morrison approach to the genre than Metal. ACO is ACO, Eaglesham slaughtered it, and Orlando and Way should be as joined at the hip as cowriters as Abbnett and Lanning used to be. This is a gold standard for strange, edgy, colorful, wondrous, fucked-up superhero comics, and there should be a million more like it every day.

Justice League (by Christopher Priest and assorted artists, primarily Pete Woods): On the exact opposite end of the scale, while I don’t think I can say I enjoyed this book as much as the current Snyder-helmed gonzo cosmic adventures, I absolutely feel this was the better of the two. More importantly, this run is the successful version of what just about every other Justice League comic of the past 15 years has been trying and failing to be as the post-Authority, post-Ultimates, post-Civil War take on the concept. It’s as smart and atmospheric and bold as a book like Justice League ever CAN be, building its exploration of the conceptual stress points of the team around one and two-part adventures and clever character dynamics, illustrating an interesting new take on how to handle the main team book with the power players: taking their ability to handle physical threats as a relative given, a structural conceit acting as a delivery mechanism for the politics and people in play. It hardly breaks new ground in terms of redefining the superhero concept, but it’s as far as they’ve gone with the marquis characters without ending in disaster, and it’s an approach I’d love to see more often applied to this scale.

Superman: Walmart 100 Page Giant (by Tom King and Andy Kubert): Of all the places for King to do a regular Superman comic, huh? Still, we’d already seen what he’d done in that Batman two-parter and Action #1000, so I’m more than willing to take what we can get (even if most are going to have to wait for this to come out in trade). There have been four installments so far: the first is the sort of stage-setting that’s common to this type of long-form arc but with a distinctly different atmosphere than how this is typically done with the character, evoking a sort of Miller-tinged Golden Age flavor connecting Superman back down to Earth before throwing him into the stars. The third is a great Fuck Yeah Superman Doin’ Superman Shit throwdown that gives Kubert a chance to shine. The fourth and most recent is haunting, inspired, moving, and tight as a drum. And the second begins as the worst-case scenario of Tom King doing a Superman comic, and ends as likely my favorite Superman story of the last 5 years. If it continues in its current direction, Superman: Up In The Sky is almost certainly going to be a perennial people are going to rank among the best Superman stories of all time for decades to come, and everything I’d want out of this team tackling my favorite character.

Detective Comics (by James Tynion IV and assorted artists): I’m honestly surprised at myself for putting this here, but I just have to hand it to this run - which had to go quite a ways to win me over, between its opening gambit with Batwoman’s status quo and centering the whole thing around my least-favorite Robin (even if it won me over to him over time) - as basically being the platonic form of Dang Good Superhero Comics. Not boundary-pushing, not the sort of thing you’ll remember in 20 years, but just really fun, exciting, good-looking, slick, character-driven adventures building on themselves into the logical culmination of 21st century popular Batman stories. This is Batman 101, but in a good way, and I honestly think that on reflection it’s gonna hold together better as a Batman run than its immediate predecessor in Snyder/Capullo.

You Are Deadpool: This is the smartest, funniest, most inventive big two comic of the year and even if you’re so tired of Deadpool that your skull bones are threatening to suddenly contract and spear your brain in an attempt at saving your weary soul from the prospect of seeing any more of him, you should get this.

Superman (by Brian Bendis and Ivan Reis): I noted Action Comics among the honorable mentions, as while it’s a dang good comic that I enjoy a great deal - and Ryan Sook may well have established himself as my ideal modern Superman artist - it’s very much the best possible version of *exactly* what you’d expect from Brian Bendis doing Superman. This, on the other hand, feels like Bendis stretching himself to do something truly different in a way he hasn’t in years, and the results are stunning. I won’t pretend Rogol Zaar has amounted to much of anything as of yet, but Bendis has acclimated to the realm of Cosmic Superman Punch-Ups in a way no one could have reasonably seen coming; he’s managed to sidestep his usual issues by anchoring each issue in a crazy setpiece and a single perfect Superman character moment, and Reis is doing work here than can unquestionably stand alongside his Sinestro Corps War heyday. Whether it’s #1 having Superman fight an astro-goilla in the middle of a questioning on his responsibilities to humanity, #4 going full Shonen in the best possible way with probably my favorite fight scene of the year, or #6′s storybook mythmaking building to the best, cruelest needle in the balloon possible, or the consistent delightful fucking with Adam Strange, every issue here has something I didn’t know I badly wanted to see, and damn if that isn’t exactly what I want in my Superman stuff.

Assorted one-offs: Along with the major arcs and runs, we’ve got stuff like the Thanos Annual and DC Nuclear Winter Special, as good as anthologies of this kind get. T-shirt Superman got one last ride under Morrison in the Sideways Annual, fighting his way out from under the wreckage of a weird DiDio book to get exactly the sendoff he deserved. The Injustice 2 Annual, of all things, was a perfect piece of bittersweet character work. Invincible #144 satisfyingly closed out The Best Superhero Comic In The Universe by essentially also doing Invincible #145-500 or so, putting this often tumultuous title to bed with the dignity it had earned. And finally, Slott and Marcos Martin’s The Amazing Spider-Man #801 was a perfect minor mediation not even on the title character so much as the basic moral appeal of the genre as a whole.

#Comics #DC Comics #Marvel #Image #Opinion

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adecadeout · 5 years ago

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Firstly let me send all my best wishes to everyone. I hope everyone is well and if not, a speedy recovery for you and anyone around you.

How mental is this? I still can’t get it in to my head that we are experiencing something so bizarre and it all happened so fast, one week I am in London with my friends, the next my work is closed, the shelves are empty and we are all locked in our houses! I don’t know about you but I had a nervy belly for a good few days.

So, I thought I’d just try and write something for you all, just about how I am coping (or not coping, I don’t actually know) through all of this madness.

At the beginning of all this, I came off facebook, I had had enough of some of the things being shared on there and just how time consuming it all was. I do miss the memes, so so much and the communications I had with some people through it, perhaps I will return I don’t know; for now I am enjoying some time off. However, by coming off one aspect of social media, just simply means I have found more time for some other platforms, mainly instagram. I mean, there are far less opinions flying around on it and far more half naked men and dogs, so in my eyes, it is a healthier use of my time!

Like most of you, I have had my nominations, from necking drinks to blowing chewing gum bubbles (neither of which I am any good at). What has been your favourite? My personal favourite is the one where the boys have their tops off, get in to a hand stand and then put a t-shirt on. Five attempts at necking my drink and I still didn’t finish one, red wine, amaretto and coke and corona. Stop nominating me! I did succeed on my run 5, donate 5 and nominate 5 challenge, which was nice because I saw the amount of money being raised when I was donating, 12 minute way to get on the website. I can not mention instagram without mentioning Daisy May Cooper, the star of ‘this country,’ she is absolutely hilarious on there, the live tarot reading being historic. If you don’t follow her, you must!

As I am writing this, I am out in the garden, first thing in the morning, the sun is shining and Celine Dion- I’m alive is playing. Can you actually get better than that?!

For those of you who are not aware, I live with a 5 year old girl called Ayva. Now, I wouldn’t say I am bad with children, but neither would I say I am a children person. I love them, I just struggle to realise they are children and my sarcasm and to the point attitude can sometimes get lost on them (lol). They’re just not my go to crowd. This attitude and lockdown with a 5 year old….hahaha, learning curve? Yes!

Ayva and I get on and I do love her like, stupid amounts, I must make that clear. I am a wind up, those of you who follow me on instagram will know this. I would I argue we get no peace in this house because of her, but the poor girl doesn’t either; I wind her up a treat and I love it. I really thought I wouldn’t cope (and I times I haven’t!) but she is actually making this lockdown so much better. From Disney+ in bed, every day at 7am to secretly feeding and naming the stray cat ‘Pws’ in the garden. My sister shared a post about how children won’t remember the coronavirus, they will remember what it was like being at home and how we coped, I try and remind myself of this daily.

There is so much pressure coming from social media now, to be the best home schooler, the most creative parent, just noooo, forget about that. If you survive a day where nobody as screamed at each other I think you’ve done pretty good!

At the start of all this I was feeling quite relieved of the fact I had no FOMO (fear of missing out), nothing was going on, there was no pressure in my mind to see this person because it has been however long, no guilt from not being able to make certain plans, it felt like freedom. Then suddenly new kinds of pressure started, the virtual kind. People making the most of this time to ‘better themselves.’ All over the TV, workouts, stories of creativity, people learning new languages. Endless! I could barely find the motivation to leave my bed, still barely can! I thought sod it, the sooner I accepted I was going to embrace this time by doing pretty much sod all, the better. Any success story after that can be a bonus. But like I said just now, if you survive another day and nobody has murdered the other person, congratulations! Little is best sometimes =)

One success story we are all getting behind though is the success of the NHS staff. We have absolutely loved Thursdays at 8pm and that very first time it happened, is something I will never forget. I went outside at 7:57 and it was only me and the person opposite, I had some friends on FaceTime and we were all quite pessimistic about it, “nobody is going to do it, it’ll just be me.” Well we couldn’t have been more wrong, by 8pm most my neighbours were outside and the street erupted, not only that, if you stopped, you could hear it all over the town, claps, cheers, pans! The same thing happened to the streets my friends on FaceTime were in. What a special moment and what a moment for the children to see us appreciating something we are so lucky to have. I know many NHS staff members, as I am sure you do and it really is lovely witnessing the love and support they are all having during this time. Thank you all, thank you NHS!

Another massively lovely side to all of this is how it is brining us together, through times of absolutely shite, there is always a feeling of unity. Even though we can not see this massive killer, we certainly see what it is capable of, but look what it makes us capable of. The money being raised by 5k runs, the rainbow in the windows. It has also brought family and friends together, have you noticed you might have spoken to people a lot more than usually would?? Yeah, me too! I am having drunken midnight chats with people I might not usually talk to, or haven’t spoken to properly like this in such a long time. We’ve kept Wednesday night pub quiz a tradition by me hosting quiz Wednesdays over house party! Some really nice things to be proud of. Side note`` – something not to be proud of is the amount of online shopping I am doing, including two Pratt daddy crystals for me and my sister, purchased drunk in middle of the night…why?

There we are then, some thoughts and views you probably didn’t need! What else were you going to do though? Ha

For anyone who is suffering, knows anyone who is, or even lost someone to this shitty disease I want to send my biggest of virtual hugs. A big round of applause to anyone going this alone and isolating on their own, keep going! For those without a garden, you are going to achieve something so much more than the rest of us during this time, I really can not imagine it. I’d like to tell everyone to watch out for one another, especially those you feel might be feeling alone, reach out to them!

TO US ALL – THIS WILL END. I can not wait, but patience is key, scream if you must but keep going. To end I advice you to find the following song, turn it up loud and enjoy! Everybody needs somebody to love – The blues brothers

(tag me in some videos if you like! @PeteDBHarris)

Love you bye!

Pete

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ask-tobey-mccallister-iii · 8 years ago

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Glad you could join us! And don't be confused by appearance of the people you meet. They aren't who you think they are. In any way, did Cheshire give you a way out? If not you could always get lost. She always seems to show up when your lost. I know what your thinking, and no, it's not unusual for us to disappear. I do all the time. Also, peice of advice, if you meet the queen, don't make her mad. *disappears* ~Ebony~

(Mun: Wonderland M!A ask 4/5)

“‘Aren’t who I think they are?’” Tobey repeated. “But-”

Once Ebony disappeared, he jumped in his seat.

He looked to Becky, or, rather, the Mad Hatter, and shouted, “Did you see that?!”

The Hatter and Bob burst out laughing. “You can’t see what’s gone, silly! Why, that’s completely absurd, isn’t it, March Hare?”

Bob nodded so fast his fake rabbit ears almost fell off his head.

Just then, the teapot in front of the Hatter rattled. The top slipped off and out popped….

“Doctor Two-Brains?!” Tobey said, his eyes widening.

The doctor was the size of an actual mouse, dressed in a pudgy-looking mouse suit to boot. This seemed to bring on another bout of laughter from both Becky and Bob.

The doctor yawned and glanced up at Tobey with bleary eyes. “Huh? Doctor? No…I’m the Door Mouse.”

The Hatter snorted. “The Door Mouse? A doctor? Can you imagine?” she asked, turning to Bob.

Bob fell to the floor, clutching his stomach.

The Door Mouse glared at the two of them. “Hey, you two. I’m tryin'a sleep here! Geez, what’s a mouse gotta do?”

“Indeed, what?” Becky asked, resting her head in a hand. She seemed to calm down at last. “Perhaps a song?”

Tobey straightened in his seat. He had never heard Becky sing before.

She waved at Bob. “March Hare?”

Bob got onto the table and squeaked a tune. Becky hummed along, tapping her fingers in time with his squeaking.

Soon enough, Doctor Two-Brains fell asleep again. He hung right over the edge of the teapot, snoring away.

“Alright, now!” Becky’s eyes flickered back to Tobey. “Would you like to celebrate your merry unbirthday with us?”

“It’s not my….” He paused. “Wait, ‘unbirthday’? But…that’s not a word, Becky.”

“‘Not a word’? Well, I said it, didn’t I?” she retorted and took a long sip of her tea.

“Yes, but-”

“Well then!” she shouted, slamming her cup down onto its saucer. She had an almost crazed gleam in her eye. “A very merry unbirthday to you! And me! And you!” She pointed to Bob, and he doubled over laughing.

“But what is an unbirthday?” Tobey asked, exasperated.

“It’s every day that isn’t your birthday,” Becky said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Geez, Tobey, I thought you were a boy genius.”

“I am a boy genius!” he grumbled. “It’s just….” He narrowed his eyes. “Wait, you called me ‘Tobey’ just now. I don’t think I properly introduced myself to you, Hatter.”

She and Bob exchanged glances then burst out laughing once more. “Everyone in Wonderland knows who you are, Tobey. Why, you’re a regular Alice.”

“A regular what?”

“C’mon!” she shouted, shoving a cup of tea in his hand. “We must celebrate our unbirthdays together!”

Tobey stared down at his tea with a raised eyebrow. “Well, if you insist, my dear, I suppose I must, mustn’t I?” he said with a hint of a smile on his face. “I propose a toast to our merry unbirthdays then.”

“A very merry unbirthday to you then!” Becky said and rose her cup. Bob squeaked and followed her example.

After a few peaceful moments of drinking tea, Becky got up to sit beside him. “Are you enjoying our little party?” She smiled at him over the arm of her chair and rest her chin on her hands.

Tobey found that, despite her rather odd clothes and behavior, she still looked as enchanting as ever. His eyes darted away. “I am. What of it?”

He mentally cursed himself for snapping at her, but she didn’t seem bothered by it. “That’s good. Care for a riddle, then?” There was a challenge in her eyes as her smile grew.

He couldn’t help but return the smile. “Why not? I’m sure I’ll be able to solve it easily.”

She leaned just a little closer. “Oh, I doubt it. I hardly know the answer myself.”

Tobey’s confusion must have been plain on his face because she let a few snorts rip through her laughter. “Alright,” she said after calming down. “How is a raven like a writing desk?”

He opened his mouth then, after coming up with nothing, reluctantly shut it again. After a few more moments, he crossed his arms and slunk in his seat. “Well, if you don’t know, how am I supposed to?” he grumbled.

“Because you’re a boy genius.”

She had said it with such conviction, he turned to stare incredulously at her. Her expression was so fiercely serious then, it almost made him blush.

Tobey looked away. “Hmph. It’s about time you admitted it. …Even if this place isn’t real.”

She tilted her head. “Not real?” Becky laughed. “You’ve got some mad notions, that’s for sure. And I should know.”

Suddenly, Tobey began to feel antsy. This wasn’t real, so why was he indulging in this nonsensical tea party? Ebony had said these people weren’t who he thought they were, so what was the point?

He stood up, refusing to look at the Hatter. “This has been nice, but I’m afraid I must go. I need to find my way home. Do you know how I can get there?”

“Well, the Red Queen might help you. That is, if you catch her in the right mood.”

Tobey furrowed his eyebrows. “She sounds rather volatile. Are you sure I should ask her for help?”

“Well, if you don’t ask, you’ll never know!” Becky replied, and Bob nodded.

“I suppose you’re right.” He brushed himself off then dared look over at the Hatter once more. “Do you know where I might find her?”

“I can help with that,” a familiar, soft voice called out to him from above.

They all looked up, and Becky and Bob smiled. “Ah, Cheshire Cat! Excellent timing! Are you going to celebrate your unbirthday with us today?”

“Not today,but thank you for the offer anyway, Hatter,” Violet said as she swirled around in the air.

“So, Vi…. Er, Cheshire Cat.” Tobey cleared his throat and started again. “Where might I find the Red Queen?”

“Well, you could try over there. “She pointed to the left. “Or…over there.” She pointed to the right.

Tobey scowled. “This again? You’re no help at all.”

Becky and Bob laughed at this.

“But I personally would take the shortcut,” she finished. With a dramatic flourish of her hands, Violet somehow made a portion of a nearby tree’s trunk open like a door. Tall shrubs lined the inside of an area that led to a beautiful palace beyond.

“Oh. Right. The…shortcut,” Tobey muttered. He glanced up to thank her, but Violet had already disappeared.

I should have expected something like that….

He turned to Becky and Bob one last time. “Goodbye, Hatter. March Hare.”

Right as he turned to leave, however, another voice grumbled, “Hey, what about me?”

Doctor Two-Brains frowned at him over the rim of the teapot.

“I didn’t think you were awake,” Tobey admitted.

“Well, I am now because somebody decided they were too good to say goodbye to me.”

Tobey made a face. “Oh for Pete’s sake, goodbye, Two-Brains, you pesky mouse.”

“And good night!” Two-Brains added before curling up inside the teapot and shutting the lid over himself.

Tobey spared one last glance at the Mad Hatter and threw her a wry smile. “I’ll try to figure out why a raven is like a writing desk for you, Hatter,” he said as a sort of farewell.

Her face brightened. “Will you really?”

“I mean…if it’s that important to you….” He coughed and quickly turned away.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, my dear, I must be going.” Tobey whirled back to the strange portal and went through without once looking back.

#mun: I'm sorry I took a while guys #also thank you to everyone who sent in nice messages #i'm surprised I didn't lose any followers but thanks all the same for sticking with this blog #wow this got long #the last post will probably be just as long if not longer #just a heads-up #Tobey McCallister #WordGirl #M!A #robots forever

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buttonholedlife · 5 years ago

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10 House & Techno Artists to Enjoy in 2020|EDM Identification

Photos Credit: Addiction Digital Photography As home as well as techno remain to reign as being one of the prevailing powers in the setting, climbing stars are actually creating an

effect with new audios and also remarkable sets.There's certainly that the development of your home as well as techno setting over the previous few years has actually performed what seems to be to be actually an ever-increasing growth to the top. Leading the charge are actually renowned artists as well as renowned tags that have recorded the hearts of many around the entire world and also changed more en route. While the standard-bearers of the setting remain to drive your house and also techno sound ahead in a relentless method, rising artists have sculpted out their very own allotment of the setting with unique designs and takes as well.Now, with the brand-new year grabbing heavy steam it is actually time to make some forecasts on who with the rising ability is going to be making a primary effect on our home as well as techno setting in 2020 (as well as hopefully past). Band in as well as begin scrolling to locate out that we experience you ought to be maintaining a close ear tuned to this year!

10 Home & & Techno Artists to Watch in 2020

Barraging coming from the creatively wealthy setting of The big apple Metropolitan Area, Tyler Morris aka Westend shown up with a blazing internal fire as well as an all-natural skill that would certainly make a quite excellent smudge on the tech-house scene. Along with the early as well as on-going support of labels like Container Of Cats and also Audiophile XXL, it ought to happen as no shock that he will rapidly be actually gathered up due to the loved Dirtybird brand discharging dance flooring heating systems that consist of "Do not Cease," "Nakey," and also "Detonate" with John Summit.Dim Mak as well as Club Nightclub have actually even come to be privy to his natural potential to provide people what they really want, setting him up for an amazing breakout year along with club-ready paths that include" Friend Area "(CCD), and "Goin Up" (Dim Mak ). What helps make Westend's popular music therefore delectable to our home songs masses is actually surely due to the modest feelings combined with enjoyable and cool beats making him a supporter favorite to record at occasions like the annual Dirtybird Campout.In enhancement, he recently ruled the remarkable Avant Gardner stage with Martin Ikin as well as Fisherman, additional solidifying his task as a mainstay in our valuable home songs area. Along with the that's that of the market precisely promoting this much more than worthy celebrity, you may wager that our experts have merely yet started to view what Westend invites establishment for the future!-- Maria Qrion is just one of the best faces on the proficient roster of Anjuna musicians but has actually quickly strengthened her place in the centers of several in the Anjunafamily. Knowing to play popular music at a very early grow older while being actually brought up in Sapporo, Japan, she has because moved to the Gulf Location and also her occupation has actually truly taken off ever since.Something that brings in Qrion's songs stick out from other musicians in our home and techno setting is her ability in developing sensational soundscapes by layering organic and digital factors together. Capturing listeners off their shoes with each authentic release and also remix, she is actually found the perfect formula to yank at our heartstrings time and also time again.Last year was actually a truly massive one for Qrion on the launch face with EPs like Sine Surge Party

but it is difficult to overlook her performances at well-known shows also. She took show business at Team Treatment Weekender, ABGT350, and also very most lately participated in a number of bent on Groove Voyage Miami to start the years off in the greatest means achievable. Don't reconsider Qrion this year, she'll most definitely blow your mind.-- Grant Rebūke What do you obtain when you blend future-forward residence as well as techno along with music elements tweezed straight from the early '90s rave age? The solution can be found in the type

of Rebūke. Taking a sound that initially stole the gaze of house and techno legend Jamie Jones with the launch of"Along Came Polly"in 2018, future would certainly enable the monitor to become called the last Crucial New Tune for Pete Tong on Broadcast 1. From that minute on, the Irish multiplied Rebūke has been actually invited along with open upper arms as well as has ended up being one of the field's most promising stars.With what several would certainly describe as an unusual as well as nonconformist design, our team see something thus refreshing putting out in almost the only thing that he makes. Rebūke is actually simply impossible to disregard. That being actually mentioned, Drumcode as well as Dirtybird are no morons when it comes to seeing star premium, and also soon Rebūke would certainly create but one more opinion along with Jump Ship(Dirtybird )featuring stick out path "The Water pipes"and Discompose( Drumcode), a three-track astonishment that warps the thoughts with excitable technicians and downing basslines.If you have however to record this guy in activity, possess no concern due to the fact that Rebūke's Rave Broadcast has actually obtained you dealt with. Including a number of his greatest events to date, Rebūke shows off his capabilities while verifying that being different is the essential to unlocking results and level of popularity. Communicating coming from private experience, I had the terrific option to

catch him opening for Veggie Velour in Atlanta georgia and I left behind a dedicated follower, moved due to the raw and also sideways creative thinking that maintained my mandible on the flooring the whole time.-- Maria If you have not presently began listening to the noises stemming from Codes You best start today. This New York-based musician delivers his years of adventure as a DJ to the phase no matter where he goes as well as could be consistently found cutting out live during the course of his collections that are actually teeming with strongly curated tracks.We have actually been actually transfixed and also embeded an effective groove ever before considering that we heard his Bumps EP on Psycho Disco back in 2016. Ever since he is actually beautified labels like Dirtybird, IN/ ROTATION, and Country Nightclub with some keep tracks of that our company just can not obtain sufficient of like "one hundred %Skill-sets"and the cash EP.Additionally, Codes has likewise packed the dancefloors at festivities like Beyond Paradise SoCal and also Launch procedure NYE to reveal off his unique stylings. And also if Codes 'songs as well as performances weren't enough to satiate you, then his capabilities as a tastemaker are going to give up also more appetizing tunes along with his label Holy Molé that released in 2013. It is actually very clear additional than ever before that it is actually Codes' opportunity to sparkle, thus be sure to find him in 2020 given that you won't regret it!-- Give Some of our favored discovers in 2015 was progressive master Dezza who took us to a state of electronic bliss with his stunning audio layout. While he might have meddled other closely associated categories like hypnotic trance, it was his releases in your house music realm that definitely protruded as one thing unique like "Natural honey," "Cold weather Outside "with Julian Gray, as well as" Hope Weaver" along with My Friend.Adding to the mix, Dezza took the reins of the guest mix on Above & Beyond's Group Therapy Radio to display his skill-sets as a tastemaker along with one on ASOT as effectively. He also crossed the pool to take the phase at

ASOT 900 in Utrecht as well as made his United States debut in Chicago at Trance Identification 10 that left a lasting impression.Riding the surge of excellence into the brand new decade, Dezza has proceeded to improve his impressive catalog of songs by returning to Colorize with the launch of" Close Your Eyes "previously this month. If you perform the quest for a clean face in the dynamic property world to acquire down to on the dancefloor in 2020, look no more than Dezza as he'll certainly supply.-- Grant In 2014 saw the increase of a number of musicians

in the bass property scene however couple of stole our centers very like Wenzday carried out. Birthed as well as increased in the Bay Area she polished her skill-sets behind the decks as an accessible style DJ before strengthening her unique style of house songs. Those years have since returned as her functionalities have actually become well-known for taking crowds on an enthusiastic trip through an assortment of styles.While her vibrant sets have brought in dancefloors move she's backed it up with an arsenal of contagious songs too. Wenzday's Heartbreak Property EP was a standout release on Insomniac Records 'IN/ ROTATION and also she adhered to that up with the Demons Dancing EP that "Daily"that actually aided close out the decade right.When Wenzday isn't responsible for the decks at festivals like Nocturnal Heaven, Lost Lands, or even a Room Yacht-hosted program, she is actually working nonstop along with her brother Dack Janiels on their cumulative 40ozCult. If 2019 specified show business of what was in outlet in the new decade coming from her, expect this increasing superstar to remain to create an influence in the bass house scene for years to follow.-- Grant John Summit has actually been among the hottest titles in our home popular music scene in recent months. With roots in house popular music's neighborhood of Chicago, John Top's music possesses a certain groove as well as percussive drive that has received

him observed through a few of the biggest gamers in the industry.His rise began when Dirtybird included"Touch off"along with Westend on the Dirtybird BBQ: Obtain Roasted compilation in 2019. Ever since, John

Peak has collaborated with tags like Toolroom, Repopulate Mars, Solotoko, This Ain't Bristol, as well as Farris Wheel. His design of residence matches effectively along with all of all of them; it's a special dancefloor-ready tech home vibe.After completing 2019 with the release of his Activate EP on Repopulate Mars as well as a New Year 's Eve set at Spybar in Chicago, factors are going to merely be actually much bigger and much better for John Top in 2020. Anticipate even more tour times as well as more groovy technician house from some of the scene's most thrilling up as well as happening artists.-- Michael Los Angeles-based artist RYBO has actually been actually one of the performers we've been actually keeping our ear tuned to for a few years currently after initial hearing his audios that were lost on Desert Hearts. Along with a

lot of releases under his belt on the tag, he's also a constant skin at their standalone celebrations as well as showcases where he is actually become prominent for taking some major energy to the dancefloor.Additionally, RYBO likewise aided co-found Percomaniacs which has been a home for his keep tracks of like "Something New"along with Anabel Englund,"Mi Casa"

along with Lubelski, and"Take Me Away "that was actually another astonishment. He's additionally taken a trip far and wide to play evaluate festivals Northern Nights, Electric Woodland, Ocaso Underground Music Event, and also plenty more.Now, with the brand-new year in complete swing, he is actually wanting to carry much more power to dancefloors with upcoming evaluate festivals like Beyond Paradise SoCal and

group evenings in metropolitan areas consisting of Reno as well as Denver. Stay tuned for his honest release"Someone Like You "with Lubelski and also SOHMI as well as look at several of his top tracks below!-- Give One of the artists who has actually been actually shining brighter than ever as of late is actually Meadow bright. Birthed in the UK today located out of the United States, he has actually been actually grabbing some significant momentum over the past

couple of years along with releases on labels

like Silk Music and also Anjunadeep. Capturing audiences away into the stunning modern soundscapes he generates in the center, tracks like"1992, ""Possibility"along with Nox Vahn, and"Heart "all left behind an enduring impact and also maintained our team returning for even more in an infectious manner.But Marsh isn't just excellent as a result of his studio job, as he has actually likewise stretched his abilities from responsible for the decks also with unforgettable functionalities

. A constant skin at Anjunadeep showcases, he is actually played in metropolitan areas like Goa, London, Chicago, as well as Miami while likewise being selected to play at

Team Treatment Weekender as well as Anjunadeep Explorations as well.Already using higher in the brand new many years with the current release of his most current EP Eu Topos that was only gone down on Anjunadeep, it's crystal clear right now especially that Marsh will be actually one of the driving interject the scene moving ahead. Take a pay attention to some of his

best keep tracks of listed below and don't rest on his collection when he properties in an area near you.-- Give Final, yet most undoubtedly not the very least is actually a dynamic tech residence duo coming from Glasgow that has actually been actually getting some gigantic energy over the past couple of years: Illyus & Barrientos. First collaborating in 2014 over a common interest for house popular music, they promptly attacked a stride along with very early help from tags like Toolroom, Glasgow Underground, as well as Suara.2019 observed Illyus & Barrientos discharge paths like "Scream,""The One,"as well as"Still Defeating"that remain to find their method in to our turnings to now. They also showcased their audio along with a Vital Mix on BBC Broadcast 1 that had plenty of delicious tunes and showed their potentials as tastemakers in the property songs realm.A recurring face in Ibiza throughout the Toolroom Residency last year at Paradise, they were actually an appreciated attraction to see when announced to play in urban areas like San Diego, Chicago, Greater london, as well as Brisbane. Currently, Illyus & Barrientos are steering onward into the new years and we are actually sure they are actually

going to attract also more followers along with each passing time.-- Grant Which property as well as techno musicians do you presume will burst in 2019? Allow our company understand in the opinions!

This content was originally published here.

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nickyschneiderus · 7 years ago

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Jordan Peterson: The hollow lessons of his summer tour

“Ladies and gentlemen there will be no heckling tonight,” shouts a man standing in front of the crowd. He’s 50-something with droopy eyes, beads of sweat dripping slowly from his glistening head into the coils of his greying beard. He’s exhausted from herding patrons outside the Moody Theater in Austin, Texas. “You will be escorted out of the auditorium,” he continues.

It’s late May, one of the first scorching-hot days of the year. There are a couple thousand people packed tightly in line to see the clinical psychologist, author, and alt-right icon Jordan Peterson on his “12 Rules for Life: An Antidote for Chaos” world tour. Many in line have studied Peterson’s rules closely, and they feel like they know him deeply because of it.

His book has helped them coach their lives with a psychiatric self-help formula that he doctored up himself: Stand up straight with your shoulders back, pet a cat when you encounter one in the street, and always befriend people who want the best for you. These elementary ideas are getting people unusually riled up.

Gage Skidmore/Flickr (CC-BY-SA)

“I don’t even know who Jordan Peterson is,” says one man in line with a pit-stained button-up shirt, jaded by the hype. Others can’t contain their excitement, drooling over the spectacle of Peterson just being nearby. One middle-aged white guy dances and skips, smiling to the sky. You’d think this was a Jimmy Buffett concert.

Peterson’s a self-described anti-social justice warrior and scholar who has previously denounced trans rights, feminism, wage gaps, and immigration among other progressive causes. Beyond the flowery language and smooth, Willy Wonka-esque mannerisms, he’s empowering fringe ideas on social media. And Peterson seems to think there’s only a matter of time before society collapses on itself—and it’s up to him to save the world, rule by rule.

The apostle

A former Harvard and University of Toronto psychology professor, Peterson first rose to prominence after he publicly pushed back on Canada’s proposed C-16 law that protects “gender expression and gender identity” as human rights in May 2016. (It became law a year later.) He argues that requiring people to refer to others by their preferred pronouns is a direct compromise of free speech.

His irreverent claims grabbed international attention afterward. For nations grappling with similar transgender rights issues, Peterson became a front-running devil’s advocate. His YouTube channel exploded with millions of views and subscribers who tuned in to hear his other spiels on religion, psychology, and honing in on “dragon energy.” Outsourcing his influence on other public figures with their own huge followings, his audience spans the likes of Kanye West, Seattle Seahawks head coach Pete Carroll, and Russell Brand. They willingly do Peterson’s dirty work for him through unapologetic co-signs.

Former University of Toronto professor and colleague of Peterson, Bernard Schiff, took notice to this meteoric rise, expressing sentiments of the danger surrounding his ethos in an essay he wrote for the Toronto Star: “I was Jordan Peterson’s biggest supporter, now I think he’s dangerous.” Within the piece, he explains that Peterson, a man once committed to “truth, integrity, and common decency” has abandoned those values as his influence grows.

In a phone call and one of his final conversations with him, Schiff says that Peterson revealed to him that Peterson’s wife had a dream about the end of society as we know it. Peterson told him that it wasn’t the first time that his wife had offered sacred revelations through messages in her dreams. If Peterson’s wife is the prophet, then he’s the patriarchal apostle who will deliver the intel for her.

“I do not think he intends to do harm. I think he is trying to save to the world.” Schiff tells the Daily Dot. “And perhaps along the way he distorts things because the facts don’t matter. He knows the truth.”

Schiff says that Peterson thinks he must save the world due to a destructing social order: Male privilege and patriarchy create standards of masculinity and success that men are expected to live up to. With privilege, men have become accustomed to social, political, and economic triumphs. Now that women are empowered, men face more competition and have, according to Peterson, begun to fall behind. He blames feminism for this modern angst and crisis in not only the lives of young men, but for society as a whole. Peterson feels that the imbalance is daunting and proof of a foreseeable doom for all of us if we don’t make a change, according to Schiff. (Peterson’s management did not reply to a request for comment about Schiff’s claim that Peterson’s wife has had end-of-the-world visions.)

“[Men] are taking away their job opportunities, they are encouraging a culture in which, as Jordan puts it, men are getting feminized, and they are upsetting the nature and necessary dominance of males,” says Schiff.

“I think he is not a bad person. I think he suffers, and now others suffer, because of his grandiosity. He has an extremely rigid and not scientifically or historically valid view of who we are and of what is, and it’s one that pleases many young people,” he says. “But not all of his followers are like that. There are thoughtful people who think some of what he says makes sense. They either disregard the rest or are not paying attention. I wrote the piece I did for them. I wanted to get their attention … I think he has a legitimate following, but my guess is that it is small compared to the angry young men who are potentially dangerous.”

Schiff’s article came with its own consequences once Peterson and his fans got hold of it. Many vilified Schiff, saying that what he wrote was misguided and not to be taken seriously. Peterson responded to the article in a series of tweets, brushing Schiff’s criticism off as invalid.

In the tweets, Peterson explains that Schiff’s anger is drawn from the fact that his daughter, who is transgender, is directly impacted by the C-16 bill. He says that Schiff is a tireless advocate for his daughter and that his sentiments on the issue come from emotion around her health. “I can truly sympathize,” he wrote while downplaying the situation.

Schiff says that his daughter’s illness was unrelated to her transgender identity, and it wasn’t psychiatric, either. It’s something that is fairly easily treated.

“The thing about the tweet in response to my story is that there is no question about what he was doing. His intention was to discredit what I wrote,” Schiff says.

Schiff wrote another piece in response to the original’s backlash in an attempt to bring clarity around Peterson’s motives. “He knows what he is doing. Smart, deliberate, manipulative, and a lie. He is very clever,” he adds. Indeed, Peterson’s tweets are friendly but sarcastic in tone.

In his first book, Maps of Meaning: The Architecture of Belief, Peterson explores belief psychology and the lengths people are willing to go for those beliefs. He also believes in reinforcing a natural social order and thinks that transgender people or same-sex couples can upset that universal homeostasis. He’s a harsh proponent for that arbitrary worldview, and he’s created mass popularity for the understanding of it as gospel.

Back in Austin, political satirist and opener, Dave Rubin, brings out Peterson: “Look around, look around, these are your people! … While the left enjoys diversity of race and sexuality, we enjoy diversity of thought … We are at the center of the idea revolution!” Tonight these 12 rules, no matter how simple, seem like they can change the world.

The Peterson hive

A photo posted on Twitter by political journalist Ben Shapiro on July 2 pictured five men at a table. Alongside Peterson were other talking heads who hang in Peterson’s hive: comedian and podcast host Joe Rogan, economics writer Eric Weinstein, Rubin, and writer and neuroscientist Sam Harris.

“Now this is a party,” wrote Shapiro in the caption.

In response to the photo, Twitter haters cringed, imagining their conversation. One user wrote, “If this was My last supper, I’d skip it and go straight to the crucifixion.” Another replied, “Oh I bet the discussion about the proper tip percentage was INTENSE.”

Peterson’s response, however, was short and simple: “The conspiracy mounts….”

I wonder how serious he actually is. His online presence mixes an academic mystique with savvy troll work to create an unrelenting buzz around the idea of himself. But what does he really want? Visions of doomsday or not, I think he wants us to believe in his vision for order and repair.

Hundreds of Facebook groups and Reddit threads are dedicated to the man and his work, filled with users hanging onto his every interview or tweet to unpack divine meaning and apply it to their lives. The groups are diverse, stretching as far as Christian study groups based on his writing, satirical communities who use his writing as a source of ridicule, or groups split by geographic region, intent on fostering Peterson fan meetups in real life. Some say they require “High IQ and above” as a necessary prerequisite for access.

He’s been normalized as an Oprah-like lifestyle guru who even sells the virtues of his diet. But his philosophy is crystal clear and far-right on social and economic issues: He doesn’t believe that the wage gap between men and women is a problem, he’s anti-gun control, and he thinks affirmative action is a mechanism of reverse racism. It’s not that his followers are purely disenfranchised young men looking for a leader—he validates their values. The problem is that the very issues that Peterson writes off actually affect most people, and by shifting the goalposts on cultural conversations, he’s always setting the agenda.

Gage Skidmore/Flickr (CC-BY-SA)

As Schiff notes, he structures his arguments in a way that reorganize widely accepted ideas or definitions and redefines them to serve his purpose. That way, disagreeing with what he says is nearly impossible, and eventually, you’re convinced that you understand what he’s saying and that you very well agree. Ironically, his 10th rule is to “be precise in your speech.”

He deflects opposing viewpoints with ease.

“I actually really don’t like left-wingers, it’s the philosophy and its ideology, and lots of people align themselves with that and because I’m attacking that and demonstrating its weaknesses then it’s either accept that a reasonable person can do that and there’s something wrong with the ideology or demonize the opponent,” he says in Austin. “If you’re ideologically committed the right response is to demonize your opponent and so that means I can’t be a reasonable and well-educated psychology professor who’s actually trying to help people lead better lives, I’m some sort of neo-Nazi.”

youtube

A mass survey of the official Peterson subreddit page conducted by its admins looked into the demographic makeup of subscribers. The survey was first introduced to the thread in August 2017. A new survey is taken periodically, about every five-to-seven months, with more responses each round. The most recent survey garnered more than 1,000 responses and was concluded in early July: 90 percent of his followers identified themselves as males, the majority between the ages of 26 and 35 years old. Over 80 percent of subscribers identified as white and most people on the thread were from the United States, single, and had at least a bachelor’s degree.

It may be a comically specific fanbase, but it’s plenty powerful.

u/Riflemate/Reddit u/Riflemate/Reddit

Idea wars

Peterson has amassed dedicated followers in a time of confusion, from a generation increasingly disinterested in aligning with major political parties.

He’s a convincing oracle and lion tamer. In Austin, a liberal city in a conservative state, there’s no ideological clash tonight. The danger is false intellectualism and disillusionment. Hustled applause, chanting, and standing ovations make the energy cult-like. Getting behind someone who reinforces prejudices about the world is easy; acknowledging the privileges of that person and your own is harder. And so Peterson delivers a sermon for the self, liberalism be damned.

“Are we fundamentally a member of the group or are we fundamentally individuals? That’s what the war is about,” says Peterson. “I’m on the side of the individual, and the people who are on the side of the tribe don’t like that, not a bit. And then they come after me with accusations that are within the identity politics realm.”

In a way, he’s right. There is an “idea war” going on, and he’s undoubtedly on the frontlines. But his response to the complex issues of a changing world is to stand up straight and pet a cat as if that’s going to help sort out public policy. Peterson offers simple solutions for people who resent their changing world. In their ardent defense of these principles, they fall victim to Peterson’s very lessons about individualism versus tribalism. They aren’t just internet trolls; they’re ready to mobilize.

from Ricky Schneiderus Curation https://www.dailydot.com/upstream/jordan-peterson-12-rules-tour/

#Ricky Schneiderus Curation

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slovenlyrecordings · 7 years ago

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A ton of reviews just in courtesy of Terminal Boredom (they still hate 10" records):

ANMLS s/t LP Chilean street punko's who love to shout together - a lot and often. Reminiscent of 80's Spanish language boot-stompers Cicatriz, Eskorbuto and the like, but with added filth-blown guitars that are left tryna' cut through layers of amp cone dust and a seeping to the surface 70's rock cockpunch. The hardcore leanings and gang vocals calm a tad as the sides play on and I'm starting to hear echoes of John Reis riffage in the aptly titled "Instrumental" and the flip's opener, "V'amanos De La Ciudad". Thanks to "Pirata" they practically give you an Oi anthem at the end. Sort of a shock to see Slovenly head in this direction, as I'd expect the band to hook up with Lengua Armada, Sorry State or some other stateside stable of cellar dwellers. Is Ruleta Rusa still active? These cats should team up with them for a US stretch. Either way, I have no real knowledge of international hardcore (outside of Italy), so I'm gonna' shut up now and let you dig in on your own.(RSF)

The Cavemen "Nuke Earth" LP "Nuke Earth" is the third time these sleaze-Zealanders have been found rifling through the rubbage bins of garage shock past to toss a full platter. The best tracks within float to the surface - kinda' like pull tabs or smoke butts floating in the fetid water of a gas station squeegee bucket - and scramble about, attempting to create something along the line of a budget-punker's K-Tel collection. These cavemanish boys crank things off with "Lust For Evil" a tune that's got one boot planted firmly in the Oblivians camp and the other can be found kicking the 'Tards squarely in the gonads. Leather-jacketed riff warriors, hopped up on CPC (get it?!) and unleashing dueling leads and hostile vibes aplenty. "Janey" lightens things a tinge with some boozy balladry and organ rottens the rock during tunes like "Batshit Crazy" and "Concrete Town" in a way that could bring both Lost Sounds lovers, Spits fanatics and tattooed MCD car-show greasers lovingly together for a sock hop. Duster-huffers will rejoice to the dum-dum Dictator clunk of "Chernobyl Baby" and "Thug" which reeling in a meaty Gizmos/Penetrators spew. "Dont Wanna Hang" strips veneers in guitar frazzle and New Bomb Turk velocity. It's like having the Las Vegas Shakedown start up again, right there on your very own turntable! The parts may be aftermarket, but there's gonna' be some paunchy yet pleased turkeys around these forums real soon. (RSF)

ぐうたら狂 Gūtara KYŌ s/t 10” Damn, this here is a firecracker! What lies within these grooves are obliterated Teengener-ized riffs, and demented psycho-wails, all walloping upside the punk velocity of something akin to prime 80's Gauze. "Drive" got a lead that's reminiscent of a garage slop take of an old Soundgarden tune (I'm dead serious!) and it's pokin' out of a deteriorating Stalin bootleg. "Daydream" and "It's Gotta Be You" ride along hardcore gallops, rendered futile due to some of the gnarliest production filth since Tim Kerr was knob twisting. The shining light in all this scree would be the soulful belter "Romance" that kicks off the flip. This gold star doom rocker features strained crooning and a truly putrid solo that's - of course - blown all to snuff. It wouldn't feel outta' place on that 'Tokyo Flashback' sampler at all. Fo' real tho' - this platter could clear the sinuses of the most jaded of High Rise fan. Hell, Gutara Kyo is good enough to make me overlook the fact these songs are pressed up on the lamest of all formats (the dreaded 10") with a goddamn dumb 45 hole. Hey Pete, knock it off! All snark aside, I'd still tell folks to buy this, even if it was only available on floppy disc. Scum Stats: 100 copies pressed up on red and black splatterwax.(RSF)

Hand & Leg s/t LP Greek duo doing their best impersonation of that gluey/Krauty/fuzz-buzzy sound that the French has dominated for the past decade. This co-ed bass and drums act strips their music down to the bleached bone, leaving the sorta' repetitive weed-wacker chops and threadbare beats that Wire fans should froth over. Standout tracks like "Dogshit Country" lighten the low plod load a smidge, letting the high strings shine as if Godheadsilo was taking on a Volt tune. "Bloody Hole" closes us shop in a full two minutes of tone drone and irritated wail before the "song" proper takes flight within a spattered cacophony of pie-plate thwack and chanted vocals. Soothing to one's skull as This Heat. Dig yer feet in the sand, people. Scum Stats: 100 on clear vinyl.(RSF)

Häxxan "The Magnificent Planet Of Alien Vampiro II"" LP Nasally Israeli psych-boogie, for the moderne youth market. The press release mentions playing with Ty and them Fuzz comparisons are pretty on point in these here grooves. They also trot out bratty, childlike pop tantrums that should speak to the Burgerooligans that follow these updates as well. What you mostly get on this is quiet/loud dynamics pushing out a Black Angels/Frijid Pink hybrid. There's quite a bit of local flavor in their guitar pyrotechnics, so world-beat freaks and psych aficionados should perk up. Most of it makes for a fine fried background rock, but nothing is really sticking to my maw. A couple of tracks do stand out - "Circle Of Quantum" and "Snakes In My Hair" - both nearly seared my eyebrows off like the best moments of C.A. Quintet "Trip Thru Hell" with swirling, woozy leads and vocals lost in the arid desert wind. The whole ride is easy to digest and makes for decent afternoon accompaniment, but gotta' say I wanted more like those two aforementioned tracks. Better than the countless Ty & Dwyer clones we've had to weather so far. Better than the King Gizzard knock-offs to come. Let's just be happy today.(RSF)

Νόμος 751 (Nomos 751) s/t LP Electroshok-rockers that clatter along like a Grecian Metal Urbain. Drum machine robot riddims and twisted rockabilly riffs fighting against various space trash splatter and the occasional Spits-take on skate punk. There's a Grande Triple Alliance vibe rippling underneath that's hard to shake as well as more than a couple nods in the early Red Mass direction I use to enjoy (long before that act stank it up with Mac Demarco's hair-footed guest spots). I should ramble more about the tracks involved, but my janky-assed computer's 'bout to crash for yet another twenty minute interval - so I'm just gonna' go pogo about like some metaloid mutant instead. Give 'er a go!(RSF)

Proto Idiot "Leisure Opportunity" LP How the hell did the Hipshakes connection escape me?! Proto Idiot is way less Oblivian and way more Adverts than the 'shakes ever were. This here's a jagged pop-gone-puke to tunes like "Better Way Of Life" and "Angry Vision" - the sorta' stuff Jaytard did solo and that Useless Eater kid slung about. Comparisons to Devoto-era Buzzcocks seems apt, and there's a tad of 'Chairs Missing' up in here too. Honestly, either this is a love letter to the entire UK punker past catalog or I'm just an asshole who thinks so 'cuz of the English accent. Hey - it's the GG King Of The UK! Still, I'm perplexed that I never knew the Hipshakes were related. I'm bad at this game. I'd way rather party with this Proto Idiot than those stuffy shirted Protomartyr's out there. Good Fun. 'Nuff said. Scum Stats: 100 on green vinyl.(RSF)

Subsonics "Flesh Colored Paint" LP In this time of reunions around the corner for every wang-dang-doodle of a band that falls under the Budget Rock blanket, it shocks me to no end that Atlanta's Subsonics have never even given up. I've evidently been in the dark for nearly a decade (Sorry Slovenly/Sorry Subsonics.) as "Flesh Colored Paint" is their eighth full length. The band continues to do what they do best - muggy southern stomp filtered through Marc Bolan flutter and a Cramps-ian cha-cha heel strut. This sorta' glitter shimmer fits snugly nestled in the crotch region, somewhere between American Death Ray, Danny & The Darleans and so on. They've always been in my peripheral and I've witnessed them bring quite a solid live revue in my times, but they've never seemed tough enough to break me during my boozy-fueled heyday. NOW - on the other hand - being older, wiser and actually warming up to the voice of Brian Ferry - this stuff is pretty damn sharp! I'm fully locked down on the track "Begging Hands" here, which proves beyond any doubt that these swingers are as big of fans of Radley Metzger's 'Score' skinflick as I am. Elsewhere they beat on the traps like a Black Time light, less set on grate and more on the grind. "Die A Little", "Cold Cold World" and "In The Black Spot" ride in the Velvet's lil' Reed wagon, possibly playing at the wrong pitch. "I Must Be Poisoned" and "I'm The Most Popular Boy In Town" are cut from the same girl group worship and sequenced catsuit that Kid Congo stitches together with his Pink Monkey Birds. "Permanent Thaw" fires off that Black-Angels-Death violin scrape along its woozy train track clack and tunes like "Why Should Anybody Care At All" feature squirrelly, ragged soloing, as if front-mouth and string-slinger Clay Reed was dry humping his gee-tar on the studio floor (and chances are, he did). A good party platter for the red eyed sect. Now while we're at it, let's wax up them early WorryBird CDs!(RSF)

The Monsieurs "Deux” LP Knowing how much I loved Tunnel Of Love - one of the finest bombastic blowouts to cross my blurred vision in the early aughts - I feel like a lamestain for sleeping on this act for so long. Well, I fixed that over the past few months. Here I am, warming by the fire during this wintry bluster and ingesting another fine Andy MacBain release. Between this stuff and the Andy California EP, he's keeping Slovenly's Gladiators on the garbage rock radar (not that they ever really fell of it in the first place). The opener "Burning Flame" and "I Will Run" are straight up crash/bang shards of garage violence and if you said to me these were lost Tunnel Of Love tracks, I wouldn't argue it one bit. Things chill and take pop-ier turns within tunes like "Suburban Girls" and "At The Hop". Not saying cutesy levels of pop, but there's a definite whaff of catchy albeit retched perfection ala' Nobunny or Ramones girl group grabs. The femmes on deck keep Andy's cock-swingin' machismo at bay, adding great touches of Toody-esque back ups, forceful fuzzed power chords and abusive can bashing. "Get Right Get Ready" is rears a Karp riff and shoves it, clawing smack into the face of some delirious Dollrod slop. That's not a bad place to be - crawling around in a metallic Danny Kroha muck. Wrapping this fast lil' fucker up is "My War", which brings all the above elements to a broil, splattering about like a scorched Love cover turned beat-punk brat psych and going gloriously wrong. A wooly ride. Will ride again. Scum Stats: 100 copies on orange.(RSF)

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invitationbyrsquared · 8 years ago

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Florida LGBTQ destination wedding sites we love!

Couples love Florida weddings. Especially our LGBTQ destination wedding couples!

Easy to reach, balmy and laid-back, it’s a slice of paradise right in your backyard. What’s not so well known is the diversity of its many LGBTQ destination wedding-ready properties, from quaint inns to historic hotels to sprawling beach resorts.

Whatever your dream wedding is going to look like, Florida has the LGBTQ destination wedding venue you’re seeking.

Here are our top Florida LGBTQ destination wedding venue picks.

Alys Beach – South Walton County – Mazes of shell-stone paths and rows of whitewashed villas hug a private sugar-sand beach on the eastern end of Highway 30A. Hold the rehearsal dinner at Caliza, where guests will feel like they’ve teleported to an intimate Moroccan Kasbah with an elliptical pool, a Moorish tower and billowing curtains.

With sweeping views of both the Gulf and the community’s 20-acre nature preserve, the lawn of Kelly Green is a favored site for outdoor LGBTQ destination wedding events (seats 250).

Casa Monica – St. Augustine – Old-world charm pervades this circa-1888 landmark in America’s oldest city, and is perfect for a LGBTQ destination wedding.

Marry in a tropical, fountain-filled garden, then hold a fantasy-themed reception (think Gypsies or Pirates of the Caribbean – to offbeat LGBTQ destination wedding events recently held at this venue) in one of the ballrooms. Make your exit in the property’s getaway car — a vintage Model A Ford.

Celebration Hall – Santa Rosa Beach – If you want a blank slate on which to paint your perfect LGBTQ destination wedding picture, Celebration Hall, with its vaulted ceilings, wrought-iron chandeliers and room for 300 guests, is a classic canvas.

Surrounding gardens have ample space for a reception tent; or hold cocktail hour on the lawn while the staff transforms the hall from ceremony site to party place. If you’ve got your heart set on a beach wedding, the hall is just a few minutes from the shore and only 50 feet from 30A Suites, a boutique condo hotel, so no one will have to drive after your bash.

Ancient Spanish Monastery – North Miami Beach – The directions say Miami Gardens Drive in North Miami Beach, but the old street signs call it NE 183rd Street. And NE 185th Street. And NE 186th Street.

Maybe they don’t want you to discover this former abbey, hidden amid Spanish oaks dangling moss as long as a cathedral veil. The 870-year-old building, moved stone by stone from northern Spain, is remarkably versatile.

Opt for the intimate French Altar if the guest list for your LGBTQ destination wedding is under 10, or stretch your legs in the Gothic, 80-seat Monastery Chapel. Twenty acres of gardens make a breathtaking backdrop for any wedding album.

The Don CeSar – St. Pete Beach – Opened in 1928, the 277-room Pink Lady was once the stomping grounds of author F. Scott Fitzgerald, baseball star Lou Gehrig and infamous mobster Al Capone.

In addition to its prime Gulf Coast beach location, the Don also boasts three restaurants, a pool with an underwater sound system, a host of specialty shops and an 11,000-square-foot spa.

Most LGBTQ destination wedding affairs take place in the sand or on the iconic Courtyard staircase, while receptions occur in indoor-outdoor ballrooms or covered beachside pavilions.

The Gasparilla Inn & Club – Boca Grande – This Old Florida resort, which dates to 1913, features 62 rooms and suites with Tempur-Pedic beds and soft Southern decor, while 17 individual cottages house private parlors, screened porches and kitchenettes. Pets are welcome here too.

LGBTQ destination wedding sites include the Inn’s Beach Club, the Golf Course Gazebo (seats 100), the banyan tree shading the fifth hole of the golf course, and the Inn’s spacious living room (buyouts only; seats 300). An outdoor reception, with seated dinners available poolside or on the Croquet Lawn overlooking the bayou, is a must here.

Ernest Hemingway Home and Museum – Key West – A circa-1849 Old Town estate where Ernest Hemingway lived and wrote for almost a decade now welcomes tour groups and LGBTQ destination wedding affairs — and shelters about 50 six-toed cats, all named after famous people (continuing a tradition that Hemingway himself started).

Surrounded by a tall brick wall and a canopy of trees, its garden is a natural for destination weddings.

Ocean Key Resort & Spa – Key West – Tucked at the tip of Duval Street within walking distance to the evening Sunset Celebrations at Mallory Square, this 100-room property is right in the middle of the action. But holed up in a private cabana by the sexy waterfront pool, you’d never know it.

Hold your LGBTQ destination wedding on the waterfront on the Ocean Terrace, then enjoy a private cocktail party and a reception dinner at Sunset Pier (seats 200). Catering is available via onsite Hot Tin Roof restaurant (seats up to 60), with options like ceviche and Florida spiny lobster.

Omni Amelia Island Plantation Resort – Amelia Island – Choose the view for your LGBTQ destination wedding — golf course, freshwater marsh or ocean — at this 404-room stunner, fresh from a significant face-lift.

The Plantation offers a glimpse into the more natural side of Florida. Think lakes and marshes for fishing, kayaking or paddle boarding, and even a nature center for the kids. Welcome guests with a beach bonfire; then hold your LGBTQ destination wedding event in the chapel, on the sand or in the rustic Walker’s Landing event building outfitted with a fieldstone fireplace.

Ponte Vedra Inn & Club – Ponte Vedra Beach – This oceanfront resort still feels like an inn, with 250 individually themed rooms located in 10 low-rise buildings.

Events here, from LGBTQ destination wedding ceremonies to beach-buffet receptions, center on the sand. The Inn’s rooftop terrace and the Surf Club’s beachfront patio are also popular party spots.

Renaissance Vinoy Resort & Golf Club – St. Petersburg – The Mediterranean Revival architecture of this 1920s-era hotel landed it on the National Register of Historic Places. For intimate LGBTQ destination wedding affairs, opt for the Tea Garden, or go big with a 450-person bash in the grand ballroom, where former Florida governor Charlie Crist celebrated his nuptials.

Before we go any further, We HAVE to talk about these two Florida LGBTQ destination wedding gems: Captiva and Sanibel Islands.

As the name implies, Captiva Island is indeed captivating. Few visitors can resist the lush tropical scenery, where summer breezes rustle the gently swaying palm trees, and the crystal-clear water laps against soft, silky sands!

The island is a peaceful haven, with plenty of wildlife and nature to enjoy, while also offering a good social scene, with restaurants, cafes and beachside bars.

This romantic destination makes the perfect location for a Florida beach LGBTQ destination wedding.

Exchange your vows whilst directly overlooking the vast expanse of the ocean, and afterwards, enjoy all the luxury and laid-back indulgence that only a tropical island can offer.

Captiva is famous for its spectacular sunrises and sunsets, which are impressively dramatic over the vast expanse of the ocean. It is also renowned for the beautiful, brightly colored shells that wash up daily on the beaches, and the textural quality that they bring to the coastal scenery makes Captiva truly special.

Unlike other beaches in the region, Captiva is more for couples looking to experience a sense of seclusion and intimacy during their LGBTQ destination wedding and honeymoon. The beaches provide tranquility and romantic solitude, though there are still water sports activities for those who want to get active whilst away.

South Seas Island Resort – Captiva Island – Occupying 330 acres on the northern reaches of Captiva Island, this resort village feels more remote than it actually is. And because it’s private to its guests, you don’t have to worry about LGBTQ destination wedding crashers.

For the ultimate in privacy, opt for the Sunset Cove beach area on the Gulf.

Sanibel Island is the very definition of exotic island paradise. Gleaming white sands, tall coconut palms and clear, sparkling water make it an ideal location for those searching for a romantic Florida beach LGBTQ destination wedding.

There are plenty of other great things to do and see on the island to keep you entertained, long after the ceremony has finished.

If you’ve ever dreamed of saying ‘I do’ whilst surrounded by lush and exotic scenery, with the sound of the waves gently breaking on the shore in front of you, then Sanibel Island is the ultimate LGBTQ destination wedding location.

In addition to having some of the finest coasts in the country, and like Captiva Island, Sanibel’s beaches are also famous for their remarkable shells. The beautiful, varied texture that this gives the beaches makes the atmosphere even more magical.

The 22 miles of sand that surround the island ensure that couples can find plenty of secluded space to relax and enjoy the start of your life together as newlyweds.

There is more to Sanibel than just beaches, of course. The interior of the island has a beautiful nature reserve and wildlife refuge, which provides the perfect location for exploration under the balmy summer sun, and there are plenty of activities to enjoy after your wedding, including various water sports, such as fishing and snorkeling.

Casa Ybel Resort – Sanibel Island – This resort spans 23 acres along the Gulf of Mexico and features several Sanibel Island LGBTQ destination wedding locations to choose from for your ceremony.

Whether you envision reciting your vows on our white sand beach, saying “I Do” in a romantic lakeside gazebo or exchanging rings on the resort’s Gulf-front lawn, Casa Ybel Resort is the perfect LGBTQ destination wedding venue on Sanibel Island.

The Ringling – Sarasota – Conjure Gatsby at the 1920s-era estate of circus barons John and Mable Ringling. Rich in architecture and history, the facility’s U-shaped Museum of Art is stunning.

Larger LGBTQ destination wedding groups have ample space to celebrate in its courtyard, graced with replicas of ancient Greek, Roman and Baroque statues. Other venues include a rose garden, a banyan grove and the mansion’s bay-front Ca’ d’Zan Terrace, where Ringling himself threw countless parties.

Once you’ve settled on a Florida location and a date for your LGBTQ destination wedding, get in touch! We’re here to help. Fran is waiting to chat with you about building an amazing suite of save the date cards, destination wedding invitations, and more.

Be sure to visit our curated collection of images to help keep you motivated and inspired. You can find that right here.

A Florida LGBTQ destination wedding is about as romantic and idyllic as it gets. Your dream wedding day is going to magical, enchanting, and altogether memorable.

Simply your Best Day Ever!

The post Florida LGBTQ destination wedding sites we love! appeared first on Invitations by R2.

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