#the kind rewind

[tubapun]

I tried to include all the relevant ones but I'm not a scholar. Also if you pick taz tell me what arc

[sootchild]

Never Stop Blowing Up

Ep1 Be Kind, Rewind

I went with mine and my husband highlight jokes. Finally got him to join me in watching some D20!

|| Ep2

[halloween-sweets]

[salmonskinrolltf]

Hey there. A little bit about me? I'm a tall, mostly attractive actor from Iowa now living in New York. My chest hair won't stop growing, and I'm always cast as the awkward, gay comic relief in shows. I guess that's why I'm here. It's silly but I've always had a crush on The Situation and most of the cast of the Jersey Shore. I was hoping to rent one of seasons before I have an audition for a more manly part I'm going in for.

[Thank you so much to everybody who submitted requests! I have nothing close to the bandwidth to get to all of them, so this is going to be my final Be Kind Rewind post for the time being. I’ve got so many other types of stories I’m excited to work on as soon as I’m able, but I do apologize if your request wasn’t selected! Here’s a bit of a long one though, as a finale.

This is a gay-to-straight story. If you’re not into that, feel free to keep scrolling, but I bet you'll like it anyway. Read my G2S ethos here.]

You eagerly rip open your Be Kind Rewind delivery and a die falls into your hand. Oh yeah, their weird promotion thing. You toss it on the coffee table, not noticing that it lands on 5. You’re too busy pulling out the Jersey Shore tape you ordered, excited to have access to one of your favorite guilty pleasures and use it as research for a particularly manly role you’re hoping to score, which could finally break you out of being typecast as awkward and effeminate.

As you push the tape into your TV’s built-in VCR (that you could have sworn wasn’t there when you bought it), you realize it’s already at the end credits, so you hit rewind. While you wait for the tape to be ready, you decide to run your lines some more.

“Hey baby, why don’t you bring that fine ass over here?” you say, cringing at how utterly wrong those words sound coming out of your mouth. You sound like a nervous pre-teen at a school dance, not the overconfident douchebag that the part requires.

You clear your throat and repeat the line, trying to artificially deepen your voice when you say it.

“Hey baby, why don’t you bring that fine ass over here?” you say, your throat tingling as it delivers the words in a perfectly sultry, slurred bass, with a hint of a New Jersey accent. Holy shit! You nailed it!

“Hell yeah, bro!” you shout, pumping your fist, too excited to notice the uncharacteristic slang you unconsciously used. You decide to see if you can replicate the voice for the other lines on your sides, and each word comes out perfectly.

“You’re looking fly, my man,” you say, dapping up an invisible buddy. Fuck yeah, that line sounded even more perfect than the last one! The deep tones of your voice echo through the empty room. You don’t even notice as the color leaches from your pants and they grow baggy and thin. However, you can’t help but be aware of the cold sensation slithering across the back of your neck, wrapping around the front to form a tight circle that feels like a necklace chain. A golden metal knot at the end of the loop seems to be stretching the circle with its weight, pulling it down toward your shirt collar.

It never makes it to your collar. The neckline of your shirt begins to scoop lower and lower as the knot progresses downward, the crew neck becoming a V, expanding into a deep V, and eventually stretching into a drooping U that leaves your shirt loose and baggy, practically exposing your nipples. The necklace and the shirt seem to be racing toward your navel, and the shirt wins. The necklace gives up somewhere around your chest, the knot unfurling into a golden cross that rests between your slightly toned pecs. Conversely, your shirt collar goes all the way down to the bottom, splitting the fabric in two as the color fades to black and the edges sprout rows of metallic teeth, becoming a zipper.

Now, you consider yourself plenty attractive, but you still feel self conscious and exposed with your entire torso hanging out, even if you’re completely at a loss to understand how this is even happening. You link the zipper together and pull on the tab, trying to cover yourself with the strange new garment that has appeared on your body. But something stops you from zipping up too far past your belly button. You suppose you’re subconsciously afraid of getting your hand anywhere near the magical necklace that suddenly appeared on you. Sure, that must be it.

However, thinking of the necklace makes you freak out a bit, so you decide to try and take it off. When you reach up to unclasp it, your fingers thrum with energy and you feel a sudden urge to keep rehearsing your lines. Yeah… Maybe the getup will help you embrace the character.

“When you look like I do, bro, you don’t gotta fuck with dating apps,” you say. Although you were still perturbed, this line also came out perfectly. You decide to lean into whatever strange thing is happening because, even if it’s fucked up, you’re definitely getting this part. In fact, you’re even starting to move like your character. You just scratched your chest by reaching under the hem of your hoodie and exposing a strip of your abdomen in the process.

You repeat the line, hooking your thumbs under the open part of your zipper, flaunting your chest. As the last word rings out in a perfect, reverberating tone, your chest swells with pride. No, wait, it’s just plain swelling. Your toned chest becomes downright swole, like someone has taken a bicycle pump to your pecs. Six bulging abs surface from your stomach beneath them, forming neat rows while your biceps and quads inflate to twice their previous size.

Although the hoodie now clings more tightly to your expanding mass, you can still see your belly button if you look down. That’s how you notice the tribal tattoo inking its way in a curlicue pattern around your navel, licks of inking flame forming the shape of the Sun. You chuckle deeply. Thinking about the solar system, you laugh at the fact that this tattoo makes it seem like the world revolves around your abs. Hell, you think, if you had abs like that, you’d probably agree. Wait a minute… For whatever reason, you DO have abs like that. Fuck…

You walk over to the mirror, admiring your new physique. You flex, enjoying how your muscles bulge, even through your clothes. You’re flooded with a surge of confidence and you rub your crotch, thinking about how hot you look.

A deep tan color emanates from the tattoo around your belly button, engulfing your old skin tone in an orangey brown, spreading over your legs, chest, back, and even face. You give a little smirk, embracing the newfound changes. You notice that the expression is one your face has never made before. It’s contemptuous, commanding.

You’re an actor. You need to hone your craft. You try out a few more expressions that you’ve seen on sleazy guys at bars. Condescending. Seductive. Proud. Angry. Each one looks completely new on your face, yet perfect, probably because your bone structure has been quietly shifting to give you high cheekbones and a sharp jaw.

You rub your bulging muscles one more time, annoyed by how much hair covers them. You’d have to wax at least once a week if you wanted to show off this definition properly. However, as you rub, there is less and less hair rustling between your fingers. You lift up your hands to see baby-smooth patches of skin beneath where they rested. Enthused, you scrub your hands up and down your body, the hair vanishing like marker from a dry-erase board. Once, you’re done, you admire your perfectly smooth and shiny figure.

However, that hair as has to go SOMEwhere, as it turns out. Your armpits, which were feeling more and more resistance as you moved your hands, are now bristling with jet black hair. You lift up one arm and give a tentative sniff, your nose flooding with a ripe musk. You try to swipe the hair away with your hand, but it won’t budge. You shrug. Nothing a little Axe body spray won’t fix.

That thought surprises you, because you’re pretty sure you use a different type of deodorant. However, you suddenly can’t remember the brand. And the mist of Axe floating around the room certainly suggests you use it all the time. Oh well. Chalk it up as one more weird thing about this afternoon.

The hair growth as clearly also affected the top of your head. Your hair is growing out into haphazard spikes that jut from the top of your head, forming tapered cones that begin to shine as if they’ve been coated in a year’s worth of gel.

You look… ridiculous? No. Douchey? No. Fucking hot? Hell yeah, bro.

You return to your script, fiddling with your hair to give it the perfect spiky muss at the back.

“Bros before hoes, dude! You know that!” It sounds like your character really believes that line as it comes out of your mouth. And why wouldn’t he? Hoes might be a good distraction for a night of fun, but bros are for life. Your memories of dancing the night away at gay clubs begin to morph. You’re still dancing with a group of men, but now they’re all spray-tanned, juiced-up Jersey Shore rejects rather than fashionable young gays. And you’re still rocking a half-chub in your memory, but it’s from watching a female go-go dancer shaking her moneymaker on a platform, rather than you grinding up against some cute twink or other.

You groan deeply as the memory tugs against the core of your identity. You look hot now, and you’re gonna get the role, but you don’t want to lose EVERYTHING. But it’s too late. It feels like your mind is expanding, but not in a Limitless kind of way. Instead, each individual thought you have becomes much, much bigger, taking up more brain space than it used to. Your memories of ex-boyfriends, Pride parades, and anything even remotely gay begin to circle the drain of your cerebellum, washed away by just a few base urges. Partying. Playing beach volleyball. Hitting on chicks.

You grab your script again to recite a few more lines, but the words start swimming in front of your face. It’s not that you can’t read. It’s just that, suddenly, reading is the last thing in the world you want to be doing. A sudden craving for beer pops into your head. It's the biggest thought yet. It shoves almost everything else out, and you drop the paper on the ground, where it vanishes into thin air while the room around you transforms into a beachside cabana.

You emerge into the dusty sunset of the Jersey Shore, admiring a few hot babes in bikinis who wander by while you make your way to the store. You lift up your shirt to show off your abs to a few of the hottest ones.

You pick up two six-packs of beer at the store and, why the fuck not, a pack of condoms, along with some other snacks and supplies. You decide to hit up the clothing store on the way back for some new threads, because your impulses are ruling you like never before. As you head to the checkout, you spot the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen. You almost drop your beer, she’s so hot. Your dick is already stiffening as you say, “Hey baby, why don’t you bring that fine ass over here?”

[effen-draws]

A quick doodle for the new chapter of my swap fic!

[royalarchivist]

Quackity: Lately, I have been participating in events and projects, and unfortunately it's become clear to me that my presence and name have only been used to attract the attention of my national and international community with the objective, as I see it, of generating more attention towards controversies - destructive controversies, and a rupture that is very clear in the community. [...] In advance, I ask the organizers of any type of events and projects like this to please show more respect to me and my community, because I've shown lots of sympathy and cooperation in these various projects and events, but it's become clear to me that their only interest is in using my name. My name and my community have been used to attract all this attention for distorted purposes, and I will no longer allow that to happen. That is not what my content is about - not me nor my content nor anything I’ve done.

Here's Quackity's commentary on respect and his reasoning for distancing himself and his projects from future events and awards shows.

[ Full Transcript ↓ ]

-

Quackity: Before I leave, I would like to talk about something that is very serious for me and something that I would like to tell you about. Because for me it is a very serious topic and it is a topic that- well, I had my mind on and I want to express it- [reading Chat] yes, thank you. Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas.

Anyways, lately I have been participating in events and projects, and in these events and projects, unfortunately it's become clear to me that my presence and name have only been used to attract the attention of my national and international community with the objective, as I see it, of generating more attention towards controversies - destructive controversies, and a rupture that is very clear in the community, and this is what I want to say: I'm NOT ok with these types of dynamics or stuff like this, and I want to make it very clear to my stream, my community, and everyone that, for this exact reason that I just mentioned, I want to make it clear that I want to distance myself and any of my projects from the Esland Awards, which you all know is coming up.

Sadly, the Esland Awards have been an event with a history of much controversy, a lot of division, and a lot of divisions within the community, and as you guys know, as you know, my content has never been characterized by seeking controversy or divisions or anything like that. It's for this exact reason that I don't want to be involved with these awards.

In advance, I ask the organizers of any type of events and projects like this to please show more respect to me and my community, because I've shown lots of sympathy and cooperation in these various projects and events, but it's become clear to me that their only interest is in using my name. My name and my community have been used to attract all this attention for distorted purposes, and I will no longer allow that to happen. I don't want it to happen. That is not what my content is about - not me nor my content nor anything I've done. That's what I want to make very clear here.

That's about it. I'm going to continue with the projects I'm doing and I want to thank my community so much for the support and love. I appreciate it very much, but I wanted to make this clear - I wanted to make this clear. This is just a topic I wanted to address quickly.

Thank you for all the love and support, I love you all so much.

[smileshighway]

Vintage Rewind Pin

[warakami-vaporwave]

Sunset 1989-3v

[v-h-s-g-i-r-l]

[vunderblunder]

I died for more than a week on this platform and this is the milk that i return with

non-heavily edited + the lineart under cut

i don’t need to add the lineart onto here, but i just feel a little silly

[haveyouseenthismovie-poll]

[married-to-a-redhead]

And get off my lawn.

[hamable]

Hhhh bnha 419… Deku has given this fight everything he has. What happens next is literally out of his hands.

[halloween-sweets]

[herejusttosufferalong]

What other blogs do you like there’s a big one a lot of twitter people follow that bashes Luke a lot but I need more constructive blogs like yours who don’t bash but can also criticise sometimes

@the5thcellar @bridgertonnteas @allsortsofthingsmpov

are the only 3 I keep up with

all the other ones seem to have been ran off by trolls

I don't agree with the POVs on every single from these blogs but I also don't need to.

Take the meat, leave the bones.

I just enjoy seeing their takes/perspectives

PLEASE BE KIND WHEN INTERACTING WITH THESE BLOGS

[aneverlastinghalloween]