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thunderbone · 2 years ago

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After the first screenwriter left the project, the producers had to call another screenwriter to create a new script for the film and that's how it works, guys.

It was from there that Steven Spielberg (Or Uncle Spielberg for those of you close), director of the first two films in the franchise, had a terribly crazy idea of militarized dinosaurs being used as weapons, but his version of the idea was much more fanciful. And what's worse is that he thought the kids would love this idea, holy shit!

To make matters worse, in April 2003, Spielberg and the other producers were looking for screenwriters to write a new script that was based on Uncle Spielberg's "brilliant" idea, and they later called on infamous screenwriter John Sayles to create the new script for the movie. For those who don't know, John Sayles was the screenwriter for the films Piranha (1978) and The Howling (1981), meaning he specializes in creating B horror films.

And that's how that terrible proposed script for the fourth film in the franchise written by John Sayles came about. Get ready to hear the story of John Sayles' screenplay.

Jurassic Park IV by John Sayles

By 2004, John Sayles had written two scripts for the film, the second script having been leaked onto the internet by hackers. Yes, since the end of the 90s, some scripts were leaked onto the internet through hackers and an example of this was the script for the film Scream 2, where the screenwriter had to change several things in the script due to the leak, thus avoiding spoilers of the movie plot. But going back to Sayles' script, as I said, the second script had been leaked online in 2004, where this script is the version we all know.

This second script has one of the most intriguing and infamous aspects of the franchise as a whole. Despite this, it's worth taking a look at this script to get an idea of what the film would have been like if it were released at the time the script was written. Below is a summary of the script, although I recommend that you read the script first before viewing my summary.

The script's story begins with a group of Pteranodons attacking several people during a baseball game, in which it is widely thought that these are the same Pteranodons that appeared at the end of the third film in the franchise. The whole world has started to pay attention to the mainland of Costa Rica, as some dinosaurs are migrating to the mainland. This invasion of dinosaurs to the continent is generating a lot of concern for the entire local population due to the possibility of the ecosystem collapsing.

The new protagonist introduced in the script, Nick Harris, an ex-military man hired by John Hammond to recover the Barbasol can left by Dennis Nedry before he was killed by a Dilophosaurus. That can contained DNA embryos from several dinosaur species stolen by Nedry, and Hammond wants them in order to use them to create a group of sterile and extremely aggressive dinosaurs, because according to him, these dinosaurs would exterminate the entire remaining population of the islands, so there would be no more incidents involving dinosaurs on the mainland.

However, Nick's mission is completely secret, as Hammond has lost the rights to Isla Nublar and his company, InGen, which currently belong to the Grendel Corporation, a Swiss multinational company and conglomerate. In addition, Hammond is also prohibited from cloning new dinosaurs, mining ore and excavating amber of mosquitoes. Hammond now spends his time paying millions to families who lost loved ones in the incidents of previous films.

On the island, Nick manages to find Barbasol can, but is attacked by Excavaraptors, a group of Velociraptors left over from Isla Nublar, where they lived in the underground area of the park. Over the years, they have evolved drastically, where in addition to adapting underground, they have developed large claws similar to the claws of a mole and the behavior of these creatures has gone far beyond, where they are now smarter and more aggressive than normal Velociraptors.

To make matters worse, Nick is also pursued by a group of Compsognathus and the military soldiers of the Grendel Corporation, who at all costs want the Barbasol can. After managing to lose them, Nick tries to return to his plane, but the plane is destroyed by a Kronosaurus, which also chases him quickly. Thanks to the power of protagonism, Nick manages to escape from the marine reptile and manages to return to the mainland. However, after returning to the mainland, Nick is finally captured by Grendel Corporation soldiers, in which he is taken to the company's headquarters in the Swiss Alps.

Nick is forced by the Grendel Corporation to train a squadron of genetically engineered Deinonychus, promising him a payment far greater than what John Hammond had promised him, on condition that he reveal the whereabouts of the Barbasol can.

In this script, we are introduced by other new characters, which are: Adrien Joyce (Ex-military, old friend of Nick and second villain of the plot), Baron Hermen Von Drax (CEO of Grendel Corporation and villain of the plot), Dr. Maya Lundberg (Scientist of Grendel Corporation and second protagonist of the script) and Sherman Fosdick (Chief scientist of Grendel Corporation).

After meeting the other characters, Nick is finally introduced to the hybrid dinosaurs, the Deinonychus Draxi. The Deinonychus Draxi would be the first hybrid dinosaurs in the franchise, which are composed of five of them: Spartacus (X-1), Orestes (X-2), Perseus (X-3), Hector (X-4) and Achilles (X- 5). They were created by Grendel Corporation with the intention of using them as military weapons, where the company's CEO, Baron Von Drax, wanted the embryos stolen by Dennis Nedry to use them in creating more dinosaurs for military use. Deinonychus Draxi has human DNA (which was donated by the company's CEO) and dog DNA.

Human DNA was added for better problem solving, while dog DNA was added to increase obedience. Each one has an identification number pulverized (Which in this case is an X with a number) and all were controlled by a device attached to the side of their heads, where these devices inject chemicals into the raptors, to make them obey Nick commands well for most of the script. In addition to having human and dog DNA, these hybrid dinosaurs also had squid DNA to camouflage themselves (just like the Indominus Rex from Jurassic World).

Nick, with help from Maya, Sherman, and the other company employees, begins extensive training with the Deinonychus Draxi, putting them through several different exercises to prepare them for their future military missions. The dinosaurs' first mission is to rescue a ten-year-old girl who had been kidnapped by a terrorist group. The mission is a brutal success, with the Deinonychus Draxi violently tearing apart the terrorists and saving the little girl from the criminals.

In the middle of the plot, Spartacus begins to have a friendly relationship with Nick (Like Blue and Owen in Jurassic World), while Achilles gradually turns into an uncontrollable killing machine (Something similar with Delta in Jurassic World). After an attack by Achilles during training that almost resulted in its death, Nick discovered that Maya is trapped in Von Drax's castle against her will, being forced to work for him.

Furthermore, Baron Von Drax becomes very impatient and threatens Nick with a crossbow, in an attempt to obtain information on the whereabouts of the Barbasol can. With no choice, Nick finally reveals the location of the can, under the condition that he release Maya after the Deinonychus Draxi's second mission is over. Later, Nick and Maya had a private conversation, where in addition to confessing their feelings for each other and kissing, the geneticist tells the ex-soldier that Von Drax arranged for that little girl to be kidnapped.

Eventually, they would have to rescue a group of hostages held by a drug lord in South America. However, this mission would also serve as a demonstration for various corporations looking to invest in the latest military technology. Investors are shocked to see dinosaurs parachuting during the mission on the observation monitors. In addition to the Deinonychus Draxi, there were also two Dilophosaurus, Casper and Pollux, and an Ankylosaurus, who were also trained by Nick weeks before the day of the mission.

All of the Deinonychus Draxi and the Dilophosaurus were equipped with armor. The dinosaurs manage to invade the drug cartel hideout and once again the mission was successful, where the dinosaurs killed all the drug dealers, leaving only the hostages alive. It is at this point that it is revealed that Nick had tricked Baron Von Drax, where he replaced the embryos in the Barbasol can with frog genes, much to the villain's chagrin.

It is also revealed that Von Drax was paid by a rival drug cartel to eliminate the drug lord and his henchmen. In parallel to this, the Deinonychus Draxi manage to remove their respective devices that controlled them and flee into the forest. Nick and the other Grendel Corporation employees headed to the drug cartel's hideout to assess the damage done by the dinosaurs.

However, the Deinonychus Draxi attack everyone by surprise, turning against their creators. As the hybrid dinosaurs killed Baron Von Drax and all of his company's employees, Nick and Adrien had a final standoff after Adrien deduced that Nick had planned the entire dinosaur attack from the beginning. When Adrien was about to kill the protagonist, one of the Deinonychus Draxi, Achilles, quickly attacks him, brutally killing him.

However, after killing the second villain, Achilles succumbed to its injuries caused by one of the Grendel Corporation soldiers, dying in the process. At the end of the script, Spartacus and the other hybrid dinosaurs flee into the forest, sparing Nick and Maya's lives. Also, Nick reveals to Maya that he had already sent the embryos to Hammond, hoping that Hammond will do the right thing.

Man, this script had many holes, such as the plot of the Barbasol can, because in the first film of the franchise, it is revealed that if dinosaur DNA leaves a refrigerator, the useful life of that DNA will end quickly. Because of this, Dennis used a fake shaving can, which contained a mini cooler that could delay the life of the embryos for a long time, where this process would last a maximum of 2 days.

However, the story of this script takes place after the events of the third film, that is, it makes no sense for the characters to want that lost can, as the useful life of dinosaur DNA samples had ended many years ago. Furthermore, the characters' explanations of the creation of the Deinonychus Draxi is very vague in the script. It's as if such explanations were just there to fill in the holes in the script.

Many of the ideas presented in the script were retooled for Jurassic World and its sequel, Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom. Yes, John Sayles' script has been repurposed in the current franchise, being readapted to be less bizarre. The concept of hybrid dinosaurs (Indominus Rex and Indoraptor), a squadron of trained Velociraptors (Blue, Charlie, Delta and Echo), an ex-military protagonist and trainer of that squadron (Owen Grady), a former colleague of the protagonist who wants to use dinosaurs as military weapons (Hoskins), a scientist responsible for creating one of the hybrid dinosaurs (Claire Dearing), the story takes place in a specific location outside the islands (Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom), and dinosaurs on the mainland (Jurassic World: Dominion) were taken from this script.

It's just that these repurposed concepts were more reliably readapted compared to what was in the pages of John Sayles' second script. Detail: JW's Hoskins character is a bit of a satire on Sayles' script, since everyone knows that militarizing dinosaurs and using them as weapons is a terribly bad idea. But that's not to say it's a bad read, I particularly like this script written by Sayles as it's a fascinating part of the franchise's history, as well as being a reminder of just how trippy and weird Jurassic Park IV could have been.

I would even like to see how the fourth film in the franchise could have been if this script was approved by the studio and it's no wonder that I made 5 fanarts of this script to imagine what the film would be like if it were released at the time the script was written. Not only that, in 2023, an incredible artist I met on Tumblr who makes beautiful drawings called Ralbino hamster (Also known as Ralbi) drew one of the hybrid dinosaurs from this script for me.

In 2020, I had made the first fanart of John Sayles' script. But it was only in 2021 that I finished the drawing.

When I drew the characters, I had to choose the characters that were featured in the script, and these characters are (From left to right): John Hammond (Even with a small participation in the beginning of the plot), Dr. Maya Lundberg (Scientist of Grendel Corporation and one of the creators of hybrid dinosaurs), Nick Harris (The main protagonist), Adrien Joyce (Nick's old friend and one of the plot's villains) and Baron Hermen Von Drax (CEO of Grendel Corporation, one of the creators of hybrid dinosaurs and villain of the story).

To draw Nick Harris, I didn't want him to be similar or identical to Owen Grady, where I imagined the actor Michael Fassbender playing him (Although the character doesn't look much like an actor in the final version of my drawing). Before, I wanted to draw another character from the script, Dr. Sherman Fosdick (One of the creators of the hybrid dinosaurs), but I didn't have much space to draw him.

When I drew the dinosaurs, I chose the main dinosaurs from the script, which are (From left to right): Deinonychus Draxi/Spartacus (One of the hybrid dinosaurs), Dilophosaurus, Ankylosaurus and Excavaraptor. To draw the hybrid dinosaur, I had to base myself on its characteristics according to the script, that is, it is literally identical to the "normal" Velociraptors in the franchise. But since it's a hybrid, I had to add dog teeth and five fingers, as well as add spines on its head and back (A reference to the concept art of a hybrid T. Rex made by Carlos Huante) and the same coloring as the Bernese Mountain Dog.

When I made this fanart, I had added the Dilophosaurus, even though it wasn't mentioned by its correct name in the script (Where it was called "Spitters" in the script, as well as being "replaced" by an unknown dinosaur similar to the frill-necked lizard, Chlamydosaurus Sputori). Also, I painted the Dilophosaurus yellow, red and black to give a reference to the Dilophosaurus featured in Michael Crichton's book. To draw the logo, I was inspired by the logo of the movies The Lost World: Jurassic Park and Jurassic Park III (Only the number in roman numerals).

After I had finished making the first fanart of the script, I noticed that the Deinonychus Draxi (Spartacus) that I had drawn in that fanart looked very similar to the normal Velociraptors seen in the movies. Thanks to this small "error", I really wanted to make a fanart of the Deinonychus Draxi, the hybrid dinosaurs presented in that terrible script.

Only I didn't want to draw just one of those hybrids, but the whole squadron of Deinonychus Draxi (Something most fans haven't done until today).

The hybrid dinosaurs that are in my drawing are (From left to right on top row): Spartacus (X-1), Achilles (X-5), Perseus (X-3), Orestes (X-2) and Hector (X-4).

Before I started drawing, I had asked Hellraptor for permission to use the same Spartacus coloring and fur that he had used in his fanart, where he allowed it.

I'm a Hellraptor fan and really liked the Spartacus fanart he made, and I wanted to put the same Spartacus colors and fur he used to reference him and his art. So all the credit for Spartacus' coloring and fur goes to Hellraptor, and if you want to see his awesome art, click here: https://www.deviantart.com/hellraptorstudios

To paint Achilles, I used the Rottweiler coloring to give it a more menacing tone (Since the Rottweiler is one of the most dangerous dog breeds in the world, and I think it goes a lot with this killer dinosaur). As for the coloring of Perseus, Orestes and Hector, I used the colors of Shiba inu, Beagle and German Shepherd, respectively. When I had finished the art, I noticed that Hector was very similar to Indoraptor, but now I couldn't change his appearance as I had already outlined the art (lol! XD).

Finally, I had added the number four in roman numerals, to give the impression that my art is a poster of the movie (If it was released at the time the script was written).

In 2022, I made three more fanarts of the discarded script for Jurassic Park IV, written by John Sayles. In the first fanart of that year, I drew the two protagonists of the script (Nick Harris and Dr. Maya Lundberg) and the two hybrid dinosaurs (Spartacus and Achilles) again.

In the second fanart, I decided to make a realistic drawing, where I imagined the actors Michael Fassbender and Regina Hall playing the two protagonists of the script, Nick Harris and Maya Lundberg. Furthermore, I radically changed the appearance of the hybrid dinosaurs in the script, the Deinonychus Draxi, where they now look 100% like the normal Velociraptors from the films.

However, I really wanted the drawing to have a realistic painting, so I asked my brother's friend, Camila Vytória, if she could paint this drawing for me, which she agreed to. This was the second drawing that Camila painted for me.

I loved the final result of the painting and I am immensely grateful for it. Thank you very much, Camila! If you want to know her wonderful work, click here: www.instagram.com/vcamilart/

In the last fanart, I redesigned the logo for the fourth film in the Jurassic Park franchise if it had been released at the time John Sayles' script had been written. I improved the line and this logo was just perfect, because it really looked very similar to the official movie logos. This was my last fanart of John Sayles' Jurassic Park IV and currently I'm not interested in making more fanarts of this script, because I feel that my work here is done.

A little art of Spartacus, one of the hybrid dinosaurs from the second discarded script for Jurassic Park IV, written by John Sayles. This drawing was made in 2023 by Ralbino hamster (also known as Ralbi), an incredible German artist and super nice person that I met on Tumblr. To draw Spartacus, she was based on two fanarts that I made of this dinosaur a while ago and the result was very good. If you want to see her work, click here: www.tumblr.com/ralbinohamster

BONUS: These are a series of fanarts made by YouTuber Terrordome 3000, who made a video in 2017 about the development of the fourth film until it reached the final product. These photos show what Jurassic Park IV would be like if John Sayles' script was accepted by Steven Spielberg. Yes, this YouTuber was the first to make fanarts of hybrid dinosaurs based on the script.

If you want to see his video that talks EVERYTHING about Jurassic Park IV before it became Jurassic World, from discarded ideas and scripts, rumors from the time, etc., click here: Mysterious Islands: The History of Jurassic Park 4

In addition, this script had two things that until today have not been explored in the franchise: Graphic violence/gore and the constant use of firearms. The intent of Sayles' script was apparently to make the fourth film in the franchise an R-rated movie, something we've only had in Michael Crichton's two books, which is interesting.

As I said before, the story of the previous films was more of the same for focusing on isolated incidents on one of the islands, where the protagonists always fled from dinosaurs without the slightest chance of defending themselves against them. However, here it is different, as all the characters had weapons to defend themselves against the dinosaurs and were always ready for any risk situation.

Furthermore, just like in Crichton's books, the script contained scenes of extreme violence and a lot of gore, where dinosaurs wreaked havoc and killed people in various possible ways, be it tearing people apart, tearing off their heads or limbs, devouring someone alive and etc. In other words, here the dinosaurs, just like the dinosaurs in the books that gave rise to the first two films in the franchise, were treated as monsters, who kill for pure pleasure, contrary to what was implemented in the films, where dinosaurs are treated as animals who act on instinct just like any other animal.

The problem is that if this script was approved at the time the script was written, the film would probably bring a lot of loss to Universal, since the film proposed by Sayles was a film for adults. Are you tired of knowing that even today dinosaur films are treated as films for the whole family to watch, due to the fact that many children like dinosaurs. Because of this, to this day Universal does children's merchandising in the franchise, in which it sells toys from the films to all children, making huge profits from it.

If a film like that was released at that time, the film would be a failure, because in addition to the fact that fans would not like the film under any circumstances, the film would not attract the attention of children, causing Universal to lose a lot of money, since children's merchandising generates a lot of profit for it. This film would certainly be a complete failure, where this film would bury the franchise once and for all for an indefinite period of time, just as happened with the Dino Crisis franchise after the release of Dino Crisis 3.

And as for those supposed official artworks from Sayles' script made by Carlos Huante, here's the thing: The Deinonychus Draxi always had the same physical appearance as the Velociraptors, that is, they were normal dinosaurs despite being hybrids (just like the Indominus Rex and the Indoraptor, which are hybrid dinosaurs but are visually normal dinosaurs), that is, those concept arts of the hybrid dinosaurs made by Carlos Huante are not and never were official artworks from this script.

Yes, those aberrations that actually look more like monsters from B horror movies than dinosaurs were never the squad of hybrid dinosaurs from the leaked script, according to Carlos Huante himself. Carlos even made a video on his YouTube channel discussing the concept arts of the hybrids. They were commissioned by Joe Johnston for his presentation of JP4. According to Carlos, they were made during a meeting in 2004 and were based on discussions, not on a script. In other words, the artworks were made parallel to John Sayles' script.

Yeah, those hideous aberrations are not the hybrid dinosaurs from Sayles' second script that was leaked on the internet, because the script itself confirms that the Deinonychus Draxi are literally the Velociraptors from the franchise, with few differences in physical appearance. The problem is that to this day, many people think that the hybrid dinosaurs from the leaked script that we have available to this day are those abominations from Carlos' concept arts, when that is not true.

Like, every time someone talks about this script, that person states with certainty that the dinosaurs in this script are the dinosaurs from those concept arts, but that person hasn't even read the leaked script, because the script itself denies this by stating that the hybrid dinosaurs they are literally the Velociraptors of the franchise. It's no wonder that to this day no one in this world has had the courage to make a fanart of the hybrid dinosaurs from the script, where me, Hellraptor, Ralbino hamster and the youtuber Terrordome 3000 are the only ones who drew the Deinonychus Draxi based on the script, not on Carlos Huante's arts.

But anyway, I hope you enjoyed the fanarts I made from this discarded script.

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grapesodatozier · 4 years ago

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so close to the real thing (closer than you think)

rating: explicit

word count: 6.8k

summary: Eddie's been pining over Richie for as long as he can remember. He loves everything about Richie; especially how much Richie loves touching him. It's a little inconvenient, though. Eddie copes with his pent up sexual tension by constantly checking a porn blog he's obsessed with on tumblr. This guy has the same type of body as Richie, he talks like Richie, his name is even Richie! It makes it all too easy for Eddie to pretend it really is Richie while getting himself off to all of the blog's content.

You'll never guess what he finds out when he starts sexting this stranger named Richie from his anonymous porn blog.

tags: friends to lovers, porn with feelings, love confessions, dom/sub dynamics, bi dom top richie, gay sub bottom eddie, the most oblivious pining idiots in the world lol we love them

notes: this is one of my more ridiculous ideas but I had so much fun with it lol. also as a note you probably should not approach people on the internet the way they do in this fic, but they're just v enthusiastic and everything here is v consensual!! still tho definitely don't take this indulgent fic as a guide on how to approach real people online lmao. okay have fun!!

read on ao3 or below!!

notsfw under the cut

Eddie Kaspbrak’s friends were his entire world; time spent with them meant everything to him. But he also really valued his alone time. He’d always been the sort who needed time to just sit on a grassy hill and watch the trains go by, to catch up on comics in his room, to get lost in Netflix shows or even just his thoughts as he moseyed around his apartment—one he live in by himself, for when these moods hit. He needed time to himself to unwind. And sometimes he unwound by scrolling through some porn blogs on tumblr with his hand in his pants.

There was one blog that he was particularly fond of. There were other blogs more catered to his personal interests, namely blogs that didn’t feature women like this one did. But there was a good balance of genders represented, so Eddie figured he could just scroll past those posts. This guy was worth it. His pictures were ridiculously hot, and his dirty talk was even hotter.

Also, his name was Richie. Which Eddie refused to acknowledge as part of the draw.

It was harder to ignore tonight. He’d been out with the losers, and Richie had just been so touchy. And there was something about the way he'd been talking; his voice was lower than normal, slower in a way that made Eddie’s stomach flip. And his touches had lingered, his hand squeezing Eddie’s hip slow, then lazily brushing against his ass as he dropped it. Eddie could hardly take it. He brushed it off as Richie just being tired from work, but god, Eddie wanted it to mean more. The hardest part was hiding how much he wanted Richie to keep doing it.

There were so many things Eddie wanted Richie to do to him. He wanted Richie to touch him harder, to grab him by his hips with both hands. Richie’s hands were so big; Eddie just knew Richie could manhandle him so easily, so roughly. He wanted to know what it would feel like to have Richie’s hands all over him, grabbing at his ass and his thighs, holding his wrists down, making him feel so small. While Eddie would never admit it, huffing at every short joke Richie made, but he loved being shorter than Richie. He loved how safe he felt when Richie held him. And he was dying to know how small he would feel with Richie looming above him, or sitting in Richie’s lap, bouncing on his cock. He wanted to hear Richie talking to him in that low, slow voice, with that condescension Eddie did his best to pretend not to be affected by. He wanted Richie to whisper in his ear and call him all those pretty names he always dropped so casually, all those sweet ones and also ones that were a lot meaner. He wanted Richie to want him.

But it was easier to think about it than to ask for it. He knew Richie had way more experience than him. Well, okay, maybe not way more necessarily, but they were starting their third year of college, and he hadn’t wasted any time. Eddie, on the other hand, hadn’t done anything more than hand stuff with someone else. The guys he’d hooked up with were nice enough, and hot enough, but they just… weren’t Richie.

He supposed this guy on tumblr wasn’t Richie either, but at least he was everything else Eddie wanted. None of his hookups had been so, well, dominant, and that was this guy’s whole thing. He was dominant and a top and into guys that looked like Eddie. He even kind of talked like Richie, and he was apparently pining over his best friend, just like Eddie was. It had him completely smitten. Plus, internet-Richie’s crush had brown eyes like Eddie, and he ran track, just like Eddie did. Internet-Richie had posted once about his dick getting hard watching his friend at his track meet, and Eddie had come so hard that night, his track shorts around his ankles, imagining his Richie thinking those things about him.

Eddie was in bed now, in nothing but his boxers and one of Richie’s old shirts that had been Eddie’s for a while now. Still reeling from the way Richie had been acting that night, he logged into his porn account on his phone and scrolled through his dash for a grand total of thirty seconds before going immediately to internet-Richie’s blog. A thrill went through Eddie’s body when he saw that he had just posted. He’d written, “god my friends gonna fuckn kill me with that ass, i wanna plow him so bad” then reblogged it and added, “reminder that my asks and dms are always open if any pretty needy little subs need help getting off. please come be sluts in my messages.” Eddie’s breath caught in his throat when he saw that there was a picture, too, one of him gripping his hard cock, his boxers pulled down just enough for Eddie to see the dark hair around the base of his cock. Eddie moaned at the sight. His cock was so nice, so long and thick and pink. And fuck, his fingers. They were so long and slim, almost as nice as his-Richie’s.

Eddie scrolled a little farther down, his heart racing. There were a lot of reblogs, but some original posts here and there, things like, “what i wouldn’t do to have a pretty guy drooling all over my cock rn,” and, “in the mood to get someone dick drunk. wanna fuck a someone so hard they forget their own name.” One that made Eddie nearly choke said, “want someone i can pump my come into whenever i want, over and over again. want a sub i can keep full of my come all the fuckn time.” That post had Eddie getting out his lube.

It also had him thinking about internet-Richie’s most recent post, his post about his DMs being open.

Eddie bit his lip and thought about it. He’d sent internet-Richie some asks before from his porn blog (his blog didn’t have his name on it, just the teddy bear emoji, since he privately thought the teddy/Eddie rhyme was fun and clever, and also it was cute), and he’d seemed plenty happy enough to respond then. Still, it felt like a much bigger step to DM him, to talk to him just one on one. But the more he read his posts, the more he thought about his-Richie and how he’d touched Eddie that night, the easier it was to convince himself to shoot his shot with this stranger.

Eddie just messaged him a simple, “hi,” with a heart emoji. It was innocent enough, but his heart was still racing.

Internet-Richie responded a lot faster than Eddie was expecting. Honestly he hadn’t been expecting a response at all. But he said:

hiya cutie (; ive been hoping youd message me

Eddie flushed. He couldn’t help but hear cutie in his-Richie’s voice—especially given how often Richie used the nickname. really? he typed back.

fuck yes, ur cute little messages make me so hard. i can tell ur a pretty little thing just from the way you type

Eddie was blushing deep. Pretty little thing. That was hotter than it should’ve been. He wanted his Richie to talk to him like that, in that deep, sleepy voice.

there’s no way you can tell that from some messages :P, Eddie sent.

His heart stopped at the next messages internet-Richie sent.

oh, u dont think so?

why dont u send me some pics to prove me wrong (;

Oh my god, Eddie thought, his breath coming short. His head swam at the thought of sending this guy nudes, of showing himself off to someone who clearly wanted to see him, who would know how to take care of him and fuck him the way he liked, a guy with his crush’s fucking name and body type and hands. It had Eddie’s cock hard and leaking, and he slowly slid a finger inside of himself.

But just because the thought turned him on didn’t mean he was gonna send this stranger what he wanted so easily, even if he desperately wanted to.

you’d like that, wouldn’t you?

He fingered himself open as he waited for a response, working his way up to two fingers. It was nearly impossible to ignore his cock, but he didn’t want to come before the conversation even had a chance to start.

fuck ya i would, internet-Richie responded. Then, in a second message, whats wrong baby? you shy? ill show u mine ;)

Eddie's breath caught. God, this guy even made stupid shit sound hot, just like Eddie’s Richie. This was unreal.

i’ve seen yours, Eddie pointed out.

ya and you musta liked it if ur messaging me rn

Eddie bit his lip. ...maybe

aw thats cute sweetheart. u know i can see all the needy little tags you add when u reblog my stuff right?

Eddie blushed. He’d kind of always hoped he’d read them, but he never thought he actually did. i didn’t know you read those

oh ya, read them, jerk off to them. bit of a size queen, aren’t you? ;) it’s cute. makes me so fuckn hard when u talk abt how u want me to fill you up

Eddie whimpered out loud, sliding a third finger into himself. Fuck, he wanted that cock inside of him so bad. But right now one of his toys would have to do, once he was stretched out enough. He sped up his fingers, getting impatient. Gathering up all of his horny courage, he sent, show me.

what, no please? only good boys who use their manners get dick pics babydoll

Eddie pouted and whined to himself, making quick work of sliding his hot pink vibrator inside of himself—well, as quickly as he could without hurting himself. He moaned as it filled him up, making pleasure spread deep through his body. Slowly pumping it in and out, he reached for his phone. please, he typed, please let me see? wanna know what to picture while i fuck myself with my vibrator. He even added the wide eyed pouting emoji to really milk the whole begging thing. He knew he’d been playing a little coy, but now with the way internet-Richie was talking to him he was getting desperate.

well fuck baby since ur begging ;)

Eddie held his breath as he waited for the picture, slowly rocking his toy in and out, savoring the feeling. He wished it was Richie doing it, wished it was his cock. The lines between which Richie blurred; he wanted to get fucked by either of them, both of them.

What Eddie received when his phone lit up was not a picture, but a video. It was short, just a few seconds of Richie’s hand dragging wetly, smoothly over his cock, but it had Eddie drooling. The room was dark, so he’d used a flash, and it made the mix of what Eddie assumed was precome and spit glisten as the swollen head of Richie’s cock disappeared and reappeared from behind his fingers. Eddie must’ve played it at least five times, fucking himself a little faster, before remembering to say something back. And to take a video of his own. fuck, I want you so bad, want you to fucking ruin me, he wrote back. A part of him couldn’t believe how openly desperate he was being, but he found that he liked it; he liked the way it made him blush, he liked the way it felt to beg, to ask for what he wanted.

Richie’s response came fast: show me kitten. show me how you want me to fuck your pretty little ass.

Eddie moaned at the pet name; casual little nicknames were such a weakness for him. He was already so far gone, just picturing Richie’s cock inside of him, picturing him stroking his cock to thoughts of Eddie. The attention had his cock hard and leaking as he thrust his vibrator even deeper inside of himself, pumping it in and out a few more times before rolling over and getting on his hands and knees. It was hard to take a video from this angle, but he wanted to show off his ass and hide his face. Plus, there was something so hot about having his ass in the air and his face shoved in his pillow, looking like the perfect image of someone desperate to be fucked. He loved the way it made him feel, loved the thought of being so open for someone. For Richie.

He ended up shooting a short video as well, about ten seconds of him sliding his vibrator slowly in and out of himself, letting out soft little moans. He was pretty pleased with the way it turned out, his hole pink and smooth and wet as it stretched around his toy. The angle was a little weird, showing a lot of his room once or twice when his hand slipped a little, but overall he thought his ass looked amazing, if he did say so himself. He sent it and said, feels so good. do you want me to go faster?

As he sent it, he got settled on his back, forcing himself to go slow as he fucked himself while he waited for internet-Richie’s response. It was taking longer than before, and Eddie was getting antsy; it was so hard to drag it out, to not get ahead of himself. But whatever Richie was doing, Eddie knew it would be worth the wait. Still, he pouted as his cock ached, begging for attention.

He almost jumped out of his skin when he heard a knock at the door.

He groaned to himself and stayed put, fucking himself even slower as he waited for whoever it was to leave. But then the knocking continued, loud and incessant and obnoxious, and Eddie knew exactly who it was. He also knew he wasn’t going to go away any time soon, which honestly made him smile and blush. Richie had terrible timing, but Eddie would never be upset to see him.

Reluctantly, he slowly slid the toy out and pulled on his shorts, leaving his shirt off. He still had a pretty obvious boner, but his horny brain did not mind the idea of Richie seeing it. So he strode lazily down the hall, shouting a performatively annoyed, “I’m coming!” Finally, he opened the door, cocking his hip to the side and giving Richie an expectant look. “Can I help you?” he asked, a small smile dancing around the corner of his lips. He had to fight off a smirk at the wide eyed look Richie gave him as he ran his eyes over Eddie’s body.

“Fuck,” he muttered lowly, his eyes trained on Eddie’s cock, which was getting even harder the more Richie stared. Eddie bit his lip and grinned a little, making doe eyes at Richie. But Richie didn’t meet his gaze—instead he brushed past Eddie, his mouth still hanging open as he made his way urgently toward Eddie’s bedroom.

“Richie?” Eddie asked, a little let down that Richie’s hands weren’t all over him right now. But hey, if he was heading to Eddie’s bedroom he figured that was at least the right direction. He closed his front door and followed Richie into his room, where he found him staring at the bright pink vibrator on the bed. As confident and horny as Eddie was feeling, that still made him blush. He was only human. Crossing his arms, he said, bashful now, “I was kind of in the middle of something.”

Richie looked over at him, his cheeks bright red under his freckles. Then he got a glimmer of that trademark shit-eating grin on his face. “Eds, you fucking slut,” he said, sounding both delighted and breathless. “You are so fucking hot.”

Eddie flushed and tried not to squirm, but he couldn’t help but press his legs together, his eyes brightening. Fuck, was this actually happening? Shit, he needed to think of something witty to say. “You gonna do anything about it?” Okay, that kinda sounded like a corny porn, but he had to give himself credit for even being able to form words just after his lifelong crush and personal wet dream had just admitted his attraction to him.

“I think I already have been,” Richie said, still grinning.

Eddie cocked an eyebrow at him. He couldn’t help but smile back. “Oh yeah? How do you figure that?”

Eddie was expecting a confession. He was expecting something along the lines of you think I don’t notice how you look at me? or did you really think those were casual touches earlier? What he was not expecting was for Richie to unlock his phone and hold it up, showing Eddie the video he had just taken, the video he’d sent to internet-Richie.

Oh. Oh. Oh fuck.

“Oh my god, that’s you?” Eddie cried in disbelief.

“You’re telling me you didn’t recognize this dick?” Richie asked, swaggering over to Eddie, clearly enjoying himself.

“How did you recognize it was me?”

Richie nodded toward the Thundercats poster on Eddie’s wall, then to the model train that sat on his dresser. “What other guy has decor like that and the ass to match?”

Eddie grinned and shook his head. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Well pardon me for not being especially eloquent when I’ve just learned that the guy I’ve been masturbating to since I learned how to and been in love with for even longer has been masturbating to me too.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide, all thoughts of getting fucked leaving for a moment. “You’re in love with me?” he asked, his voice as soft as his smile.

Richie was not a bashful person, but the little laugh he let out just then was close to it. “Have been my whole life, but thanks for finally noticing.”

Eddie shook his head and stepped closer, until he had to crane his head up to meet Richie’s gaze. “I love you too.”

Richie’s eyes widened behind his thick frames. Eddie had only seen that look in Richie’s eyes a few times before, but he never wanted to lose sight of it again. He always wanted Richie to look at him like that. But then Richie was closing his eyes and leaning down. It only took Eddie a second to get with the program, drinking in the moment just a little longer before letting his own eyes fall shut as he pressed his lips against Richie’s.

It started gentle enough, if deep and passionate and intentional. But then Richie’s hands were on Eddie’s bare waist, skin against skin, and Eddie was gasping into Richie’s mouth, his hands coming up and resting against Richie’s chest. He curled his fingers into Richie’s shirt as Richie ran his tongue over Eddie’s lips, just before pulling away. He laughed at Eddie’s indignant little whine.

“Oh, you mean you don’t want me to take off my shirt right now?” he smirked as Eddie tried to pull him closer by the offending fabric. Huffing, Eddie conceded and let go long enough to let Richie pull the shirt off over his head.

“Oh,” he said softly, his voice a little, awed moan as he drank in Richie’s chest. It wasn’t like Richie had never been shirtless in front of Eddie before, but Eddie had never felt like he was allowed to really look at Richie all those times. But now he could; now he could touch. And he did, running his fingers over Richie’s smooth, warm skin, over his acne scars and blackheads and freckles. “Fuck, Richie,” he sighed before pressing his lips to Richie’s collarbones, trailing them all over Richie’s beautiful chest.

Richie gave a breathless, almost shy laugh as he stroked Eddie’s hair. “Damn, Eds, never pegged you as a tits guy.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Eddie giggled, bringing his lips back to Richie’s. They both smiled into it, getting lost for a moment as Richie’s hands slid slowly down Eddie’s sides. His hands lingered on Eddie’s hips for a moment before he slid them further down and grabbed at Eddie’s ass, making him gasp.

“Is that any way to talk to the guy who’s about to rail you ‘til you can’t walk?”

“What’re you gonna do about it?” Eddie asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Spank me?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Richie smirked. He gave Eddie’s ass a playful smack, making Eddie gasp again and fall into him, needing more. Richie’s voice was dripping with adoration as he purred, “Little brat,” and pulled Eddie against him, kissing him again. Eddie went with it easily and happily parted his lips to let Richie lick into his mouth. Richie had one hand gripping Eddie’s jaw and the other on his ass, touching him in a way that exuded a command Eddie was desperate to follow. God, Eddie knew Richie had big hands, but they felt huge on him like this. It was dizzyingly hot. And the way Richie’s tongue was teasing his had Eddie’s knees going weak. His dick was throbbing in his shorts, aching to finish what he’d started, what had been interrupted. When he thought about it all—about playing with himself for Richie, about the video Richie had sent him, about all those things Richie had said about filling Eddie up—he felt himself clench down on nothing, desperate to get fucked. Desperate to feel Richie’s cock so deep inside of him.

“Richie,” he whined into the kiss, pulling on Richie’s belt loops, “please.” He pressed himself urgently against Richie and rutted shamelessly against his thigh.

“Fuck, you’re a needy little thing, aren’t you?” His voice was cocky and teasing, but there was an apparent undercurrent of wonder there as well.

Eddie shoved his face into Richie’s neck and whined, grabbing onto Richie’s wrists without even knowing what his goal was. “Richie,” he whimpered, sounding pitiful and ruined already.

“What do you want, baby?” Richie’s voice made it clear that he was enjoying seeing Eddie this wrecked, and that just made Eddie even harder. “Come on, tell me, use your words.”

Eddie squirmed as Richie held him close, but still not touching him in any relieving way. “I need you inside,” Eddie said, his voice high and soft as he squirmed in Richie’s grip. “God, please, Richie, need you to fuck me. Fuck me so hard I can’t even think. Fuck me like I’m your little toy.”

Eddie could hardly believe the words coming out of his mouth, and judging by the gasp he heard Richie let out, he’d caught Richie off guard too. But if the hard bulge in his jeans that brushed up against Eddie was any indication, he was apparently just as turned on as Eddie was. Besides, Eddie knew from his blog that Richie was really into that sort of thing too—and, apparently, really into the idea of doing those things with Eddie. The realization that Richie had been saying all those filthy things about him had him grinding against him with even more fervor, kissing his neck with a heated confidence. Richie moaned, and Eddie could feel the warmth of it spreading through him. “Yeah, sweetheart? You want to feel me inside you? You think you’re ready for me?”

“Yes,” Eddie sighed, looking up at Richie with wide, desperate eyes. He shivered at the new look in Richie’s eyes, the blue nearly entirely eclipsed by how wide his pupils were. He looked hungry for Eddie; Eddie wanted to feel it. “‘M ready, Richie, please, so open for you.” He looked to the toy on his bed pointedly, but Richie only gave a deep laugh.

“Oh honey, that’s cute that you think that little thing is gonna have you ready for my cock.” Eddie’s breath caught; that toy wasn’t small. Before he could gather his scattered brain enough to react, Richie was scooping him up and tossing him on the bed, the toy falling forgotten to the floor. Richie moved Eddie onto his back, and Eddie went happily, pliantly. Richie’s fingers were cool against Eddie’s burning skin as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of Eddie’s shorts, slowly dragging them over his hips and down his legs, tossing them to the floor. Eddie’s cock was dripping with precome, his chest flushed a bright red as he squirmed under Richie’s gaze. Eddie been dreaming of Richie manhandling him like this for he didn’t even know how long; he couldn’t help the way he reacted. And he especially couldn’t help the pleased little sound he made when Richie murmured, “God, you’re gorgeous, Eds.” Then Richie was grabbing him by the ankles, gently but firmly spreading Eddie’s legs, and Eddie let out the most pathetic, genuine moan he’d ever heard. “Fuck, baby, you sound pretty. You like when I spread you open?” Richie asked. He was smirking down at Eddie, but Eddie could see how flushed he was, could see the thrilled awe in his dark, hungry eyes as Eddie nodded.

“Richie, please,” Eddie whimpered. “I need you so bad.” He sat up, reaching for Richie’s belt, but Richie easily pressed him back against the mattress with a large hand on the center of his chest. The confidence in Richie’s dominance took Eddie’s breath away, and he stayed right where he was, nice and obedient, as he watched Richie get off the bed and slowly undo his belt, then his button and zipper. He took his time dragging his jeans and boxers off, enough time to let Eddie’s eyes linger on the reveal of the dark hair under Richie’s waistband. Then Richie’s cock was bouncing up against his stomach, hard and flushed and fucking long. Eddie moaned at the sight and fisted the sheets underneath him. He wanted so badly to get his mouth on Richie, to breathe him in and be nice and good for Richie on his knees. But he was also desperate to get fucked; his hole clenched down on nothing at the thought, and then it was all he could think about again. “Richie,” he repeated, whining now as he reached for him. “Stop being such a tease.”

Richie laughed as he moved easily out of Eddie’s grip and climbed on top of him. Eddie gasped softly at the sight of Richie above him, his dark curls surrounding his face, his full, pink lips pulled into the most beautiful smile Eddie had ever seen in his life. He ran his hands over Richie’s chest and sides, marveling at the fact that this was really happening. Then, his eyes flickering down, he tentatively brought his hand to Richie’s cock.

“Oh, fuck,” they said, both at the same time, making them giggle together.

“Fuck, Eds, your pretty little hand looks so cute wrapped around my cock,” Richie teased in a low, rough voice. Eddie shivered; he couldn’t tell if Richie was praising him or degrading him, but either way it made his head fuzzy.

“‘M not that little,” Eddie grumbled out of habit. But he was clearly breathless. He’d never been good at pretending not to like Richie’s compliments, however teasing.

“Aw, but you are, baby,” Richie cooed, nuzzling his nose against Eddie’s and pressing a lingering kiss to his lips. “You’re so cute and tiny for me. I don’t even know if we’ll be able to fit my cock inside you.”

“I can,” Eddie whined, both indignant and impatient. He bucked his hips up, but Richie held him down. He gasped when he felt the warm, soft skin of Richie’s cock press against his stomach. Looking down, he saw that Richie had his cock lying on Eddie’s stomach, showing just how deep he would be once he was inside Eddie.

“You sure about that, babydoll?” While the teasing note was still there, Richie’s voice got noticeably softer as he said, “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

Eddie’s chest swelled at that. Cupping Richie’s face in his hands, he insisted, “I can take it.” Then he reached down and took Richie in his hand, glowing with pride when Richie let out a low moan. “Richie, please, I want you so bad.”

“Okay, baby,” Richie agreed, turning his head to kiss Eddie’s palm. “Fuck, I want you, too.” But he stalled. “Have you ever… like, been fucked before?”

Eddie flushed. “Well, not by someone else, but I have some toys. I’m not gonna break, Richie.” He huffed, but the way Richie was looking at him soothed any ruffled feathers.

“I’m your first?” His smile was soft, and while his eyes glittered, there was nothing teasing about his tone.

“I didn’t wanna do it with anyone else,” Eddie mumbled. He tried to look away, but Richie pulled him into a kiss.

“Fuck, I never thought you’d want me,” he chuckled. “Sorry, that was depressing, I just mean I can’t believe we didn’t do this sooner, you know?”

Eddie beamed, a small, giddy giggle dancing on his lips. “Well it’ll happen sooner if you stop talking so much.” But his smile, and all of the little kisses he planted on Richie’s freckled shoulders told Richie that Eddie never wanted him to stop talking.

“Alright, alright, sheesh, I know I’m hot but you don’t gotta rush me.” Eddie was still giggling when Richie kissed him, and he could feel that Richie was smiling too. “Where’s your lube?”

Eddie stretched his hand out and patted the bed for a moment, searching. After what was probably only four seconds but felt like an eternity, he finally found the bottle and handed it eagerly to Richie. “Oh, right,” Richie smirked, “you’re already wet for me, aren’t you?” Eddie moaned as Richie swiped his fingers over Eddie’s slick hole, pressing in just a bit. His fingers went in easily, and he pumped them slowly, drawing little, breathy moans out of Eddie. Richie’s fingers were a lot longer and thicker than his own, and they felt amazing, but they weren’t what he wanted in that moment.

“Richie, fuck me,” he whined.

“Aw, no please? Again?” Richie tsked and shook his head, curling his fingers against Eddie’s prostate, making him cry out. “I told you, sweetheart, only good boys who use their manners get fucked.”

“Please,” Eddie cried. He rocked his hips and grabbed at Richie’s shoulders, at his arms, not even sure what his goal was there other than to get Richie closer, to get his attention, to show him how desperate he was. “Please fuck me, please.” He sounded pathetic begging like this, but that just made him harder. And it made Richie’s pupils even wider as he slid his fingers out of Eddie and pressed a kiss to his lips.

“Good boy,” he purred. Eddie moaned and arched into Richie’s touch, but he only gave Eddie one more kiss on his cheek before pulling back and covering his cock in lube. Eddie watched, entranced, as Richie’s hand moved smoothly over his cock, glistening and slick. Then Richie was gently spreading Eddie’s legs even further and pressing the head of his cock against Eddie’s hole.

“Yes,” Eddie whimpered brokenly, grasping at the sheets beneath him. “Richie, please.” Meeting his gaze, he said softly, “I need you.”

“I’ve got you,” Richie assured him in a voice that made Eddie feel like he was glowing. Richie took Eddie’s hand in his and entwined their fingers, using his other hand to guide his cock inside of Eddie, who gasped at the feeling. God, he couldn’t believe this was happening. He couldn’t believe his first time was going to be with his favorite person. He couldn’t believe he was finally getting exactly what he wanted. Love flooded through him, warm and perfect, somehow both soothing and electrifying as he watched Richie’s face. Eddie’s mouth dropped as Richie pressed into him, deeper and deeper and still fucking deeper, until finally Richie let out a low moan and Eddie felt absolutely breathless. The stretch was intense, and he held onto Richie tightly as he caught his breath. “Are you alright?” Richie asked. His voice was strained, but the care and concern in it was clear. “You don’t have to take all of it if it’s too much.”

Eddie wanted to laugh at the remark or roll his eyes, but with how breathless and dizzied by pleasure he already was, he had to admit Richie had a point. “Just need a minute,” he gasped. Richie ran a soothing hand over Eddie’s skin, helping him even out his breathing and relax. The feeling of Richie’s cock twitching in anticipation inside of him had him letting out little moans as he adjusted, getting more and more used to the feeling until he felt comfortable enough to tell Richie he could move. Richie kissed him before he did, his lips soft against Eddie’s, a reassuring weight. Eddie breathed in sharply as Richie pulled back, grabbing at Richie’s shoulders.

Richie immediately stopped. “You okay, baby?” he asked, caressing Eddie’s face.

Eddie wanted to melt. Richie was always touching him, always jokingly flirting with him, but this unabashed concern and, well, love had previously been reserved for dire situations, like panic attacks or injuries. Eddie couldn’t help the dopey smile that bloomed on his face as he tilted his chin up and kissed Richie. “I’m okay,” he said breathlessly. “It’s just a little different from my vibrator.” They both gave a shaky laugh as Richie nuzzled his nose against Eddie’s.

“Better, I hope?” he grinned.

“Can’t tell yet,” Eddie retorted. Another snarky comment was on the tip of his tongue when Richie pulled his hips further back, effectively sucking all the air—and attitude—from Eddie’s chest. And then Richie was pushing back in, and Eddie let out a moan he couldn’t have faked if he tried, relaxing back into the mattress as his eyes fell shut. It was the best thing he’d ever felt, pleasure and relief flooding through his body. They’d been building up this tension for years; Eddie had figured it would feel good to break it, but it really felt magical, like something had just clicked into place. Feeling Richie inside of him, rocking his hips carefully, feeling Richie twitch as he tried not to lose control had Eddie’s head reeling. Eddie’s eyes fluttered open, focusing on Richie above him, on how flushed his face was. When Richie met his eye, pressing in deep, Eddie let out a small, “Fuck.”

“Yeah? Does that feel good, sweetheart?”

Richie was smirking as he said it, but there was something else sparkling in his eyes. Something giddy and awed. Something that made Eddie sigh dreamily, “I love you.”

Richie’s eyes widened for a moment before he pressed his lips firmly against Eddie’s, his hands roaming over Eddie’s body like he couldn’t choose where to put them, where to touch him. “I love you so much,” he beamed, pressing a few more kisses to Eddie’s cheeks. Eddie giggled at the feeling, but then Richie’s hips moved just a little faster, pressing him in just a little deeper, and he was back to melting under Richie’s touch, clinging to him as he rocked his hips with Richie’s. “Fuck, you’re so amazing, baby, so fucking beautiful. You look so good like this, holy shit.”

Eddie smiled almost drunkenly at Richie’s ability to ramble even when blowing Eddie’s mind. “Feels so good,” he moaned, his voice breathy and just a little bit higher than normal. He wrapped his legs around Richie’s waist. “Please, Richie, please.”

“Fuck, baby, wanna make you feel like this all the fucking time,” Richie groaned as he picked up the pace. Eddie whined in pleasure at the change, and that just spurred Richie to go faster, harder, until he was well and truly fucking Eddie, both of them moaning with every thrust.

“Oh my god,” Eddie cried, “ohmygodohmygodhmygod, oh fuck, Richie, please.” It felt so amazing, Richie fucking into him like this, but he needed that little bit more. His cock was throbbing desperately, achingly hard; he needed to feel Richie’s hand on him. “Richie, please,” he whimpered, “please, please touch me. I need you, I need you so bad, please, Richie.” Eddie was pouting now, grabbing aimlessly at Richie, his legs still wrapped tight around him.

“Fuck, you’re so hard for me,” Richie marveled, his voice sweet and condescending as he wrapped his hand around Eddie’s cock. Eddie nearly screamed at the contact, his back arching off the bed. Richie laughed a little, which just made Eddie even harder. The way Richie spread his precome over his cock, twisting his wrist just so as he stroked him had that familiar tension coiling in his lower stomach. “Aw, does that feel good? You gonna come on my cock, kitten?”

“Fuck, yes!” Eddie screamed. He gripped at the sheets as Richie stroked him, his voice washing over Eddie, mixing with the pleasure of Richie’s touch, of his thrusts. “Yes, yes, yes, please let me come, please, please, please.”

“That’s a good boy,” Richie purred, and Eddie could feel himself tipping over the edge at the words, at how low and affected Richie’s voice was. He groaned out, “Come on my cock like a good boy, princess,” and pure pleasure crashed over Eddie like a wave. He arched his back and cried out as he came, his moans filling the room as he squirmed under Richie, grabbed at him, at the sheets. It was fucking ethereal. He felt somehow so in tune with his body and yet so detached, like he was floating. He was barely cognizant of what Richie was saying, but when he put the sounds together and realized Richie had just said, panting, “Fuck, baby, gonna come,” Eddie felt like a live wire again.

“In me,” he said urgently. His mind was still a little too scattered for full sentences, but he knew what he wanted. God, he felt like he needed it. Like he needed to feel that connected to Richie. “Richie, come inside me, please.”

Richie apparently didn’t need to be told twice; he let out a moaned, “Oh, fuck,” before burying his face in Eddie’s neck, his breathy moans like music in Eddie’s ear. And then, as Eddie was coming down from his own high, he felt the holiest thing in the world: Richie’s cock, twitching inside of him, then his warm come filling Eddie up. It was unreal, being this close to him. Richie clutching at him as he came. It was even better than the little fantasies Eddie occasionally allowed himself. Richie was here, in his arms, pressing kisses to his neck as he caught his breath. Eddie was stroking his hair and rubbing his back as Richie nuzzled into him. Richie’s skin pressed against his skin, his legs wrapped around Richie’s waist, then falling to his sides, but still pressed to him. Still keeping him close. There wasn’t a single thought in his head that wasn’t about Richie.

Richie pulled him from his dreamy haze with light kisses pressed up his jaw, then over his cheeks. Eddie giggled at the onslaught of affection, still reeling from how fucking hot and euphoric what they had just done together had been. But he happily accepted Richie’s kisses, his heart bursting, then racing as Richie pulled back to look in his eyes. “Holy, fuck,” Richie beamed, his face flushed and blue eyes hooded from the weight of his orgasm, even as they sparkled.

“I know,” Eddie said, returning Richie’s grin as he basked in the surreality of having Richie on top of him, his dorky yet charming smile framed by lips that were red and swollen because of Eddie. His glasses were knocked askew, and Eddie instinctively reached up to fix them. With a sense of wonder, he realized that his touch was allowed to linger this time. He ran his fingers down Richie’s cheekbones, over his jaw, cupped his cheeks. “I love you,” he said. The words spilled out over his lips like he couldn’t stand not to say them. And while it made his heart race a little to say it out loud now that the adrenaline and tension was all worked through, it felt even better this time when Richie’s face softened and he nuzzled his nose against Eddie’s.

“I love you so fucking much.” Richie’s voice rarely got that soft, that sincere; it felt like a blanket wrapping around Eddie. It felt safe, secure. It felt like a promise. And if there was anyone in the world Eddie knew he could trust, it was Richie. That feeling of everything coming together came back to Eddie as he lay there under Richie, their lips moving together, feeling light as a feather now that everything was finally out in the open.

#reddie #notsfw #reddie smut #reddie fic

235 notes · View notes

imageofvoid · 3 years ago

Note

1, 4, 6-8, 10, 14, 15, 16, 18, 24, 29-30

Peço desculpas desde já pelo terminally nosey q a gente é 👀💕

hehe obrigada pelas perguntas <3

1. favourite place in your country?

I think the coastline between Rio and São Paulo (costa verde).. I used to spend my vacations there when I was younger and I still think it’s so beautiful! Would love to go to Paraty again or to any of those islands nearby 🤧🤧

4. favourite dish specific for your country?

🤔🤔 I love feijão tropeiro but that’s mostly bc I love farofa aslkdsja also broa mineira (the small ones… and sprinkled w cinnamon sugar…So Good, eating one w fresh coffee is one of the best things in life imo)

6. most hated song in your native language?

……………………….. so many… there are so many artists I dislike.. asdlkjdsf i'm a hater

7. three words from your native language that you like the most?

Cafuné!!! Literally if you’ve followed me for a while you’ve seen me trying to convince ppl to incorporate ‘cafuné’ into their vocabulary. So much better than saying ‘running your fingers through someone’s hair’ and i think cafuné sounds so cute. Second word is ‘ué’ which I don’t know if it should be counted as a word but it’s so good.. being able to basically say ‘???’ out loud. Third one would be.. 'proparoxítona' for no other reason than that it think it’s fun to pronounce it

8. do you get confused with other nationalities? if so, which ones and by whom?

Only when I’m abroad? I actually hate this bc like. How can u Look like a nationality, every country is so diverse 😐 the times ive been confused w other nationalities were ppl asking me if I was French (which like. what???)

10. most enjoyable swear word in your native language?

Not really something I say a lot bc I do think it’s v rude but I find answering things w ‘teu cu’ really funny askldja

14. do you enjoy your country’s cinema and/or TV?

I do! TV not so much bc it’s mostly soap operas and I don’t have the patience for it anymore, but I do think Brazilian cinema is really good and there are so many hidden gems.. I sometimes have some unpopular opinions about it tho asldksaj (don’t kill me for this but I thought Bacurau was overrated 🤐)

15. a saying, joke, or hermetic meme that only people from your country will get?

‘todo dia é outro 7 a 1’ because it’s how i’ve felt since that day and ‘eu olho pro teclado e eu não sei o que dizer, apenas sentir...’ for the things people make me read online

18. do you speak with a dialect of your native language?

I don’t… but my accent is really heavy 😔

24. what other nation is joked about most often in your country?

Most of our jokes are about the Portuguese or Argentinians (apologies to my beloved mutuals from Portugal and Argentina love u guys)

29. does your region/city have a beef with another place in your country?

YES w são paulo which I think it’s stupid bc clearly minas gerais is the best state from southeast brazil LMAO

30. do you have people of different nationalities in your family?

Yea! My father is british and so is his entire family (my mother was an immigrant in the UK), my cousins are from the united states… my greatgrandfather was Portuguese but my grandmother had no contact w him 🤷‍♀️

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wychive · 5 years ago

Text

𝙪𝙣𝙨𝙥𝙤𝙠𝙚𝙣 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨

summary // you found your pile of ‘letters’ to hyunjin that contain thoughts that have never been said and decided to write to him one last time.

pairing(s) // hyunjin x gn!reader, hyunjin x oc, slight minho x reader

genre(s) // angst, letter fic

warning(s) // mentions of food, themes of being forgotten, vulgar wording, humiliation, overthinking

word count // 2.0k

author's note // happy birthday @noya-sannnn !! im sorry this was so late hhh you know how i am irl,, but i hope you enjoy this! i love you so much, jane <3 i apologize for the many grammar mistakes gn. i recommend listening to iu’s ending scene while reading this! btw y/n/n means your nickname.

[10/01/14, 3:55am]

dear jinnie,

hi there! it's y/n <3 i hope you're doing okay - i mean of course you are pfft anyways, just writing this short letter (more like paragraph) sort of as a venting mechanism? for things i cant tell you about lol im not so sure how you would call it, since you're so much better at words than i am. basically were like:

hyunjin: ow a brain freeze!

me: haha brain go brrrr

anyways haha yea <3 it's 4am so like,, ill see you at school!

signed,

your loser,

y/n/n

[15/02/14, 12:34am]

yo heartthrob!

im back with this kinda stuff haha it's been a whole? week? since ive written one of these so like yes..hi! i just wanted to say thanks, for today. you really know how to cheer me up huh? you really outdid yourself by setting up that little picnic for us. congrats on making the strawberry cake so perfectly <3 this day will always stay as a core memory in the back of my brain. you're too caring sometimes,,, istg you'll pay for this [maybe hugs?] >:)

signed,

your partner in crime,

y/n/n

[30/02/15, 01:29am]

jinnie-senpai~~

LMAO you hate me calling you that, doesn't change a thing though. hehe,, nways i hope you enjoyed your birthday present :) i got you that really cool skateboard that you wanted. i worked my ass off for that in my mother's garden so like,, you gotta thank me for that a thousand times :D nah jk, its a sincere gift, from me to you. i rarely do this for ANYONE so consider yourself lucky to have a best friend like me -3- also, seungmin is like….kinda the cutest person ever. introduce me to him pls, thank!

signed,

<your bestest friend3,

y/n

(p.s. you're kinda cute too,,,, ig,,, still stinkee tho)

[13/04/15, 9:04pm]

hey 'baby' (HAHAHA ihy for this)

i hope your day was okay! i didn't see much of you today (which was sort of a bummer but wtv) so like…. uh yea. you told me you were doing okay over text, which kinda surprised me because like?? we always video call lol this is kinda the first time,, but its okay, i trust you! (i really hope youre doing alright tho, i'll beat anyone up if they make you sad >:( ) you also called me 'sweetheart' today which was like…. omg wtf haha????????? that was so weird to me for some reason… a good kind of weird :D we haven't done those kinds of nicknames in a while so…. happy to know that they're back in session <3 i talked to the new girl today, she's really cool! like she knows the bean song on tiktok so like its a total win heh, ill introduce you to her tomorrow! you'll love her a lot

signed,

your 'lover',

y/n/n

[08/06/16, 10:23pm]

hey howl (hehe go back to that movie night we had)

this spring break sucks so much,, esp because youre not here (you still couldve brought me along :'[ ) but wtv i hope youre enjoying yourself. ive been hanging out with yeonnie lately and i found out she likes conan grey too like pls i love her sm. can we adopt her?? please???? she told me you guys have been video calling too and that makes me so happy!! you two are getting along so well aaa my precious babies </3

what if you developed a crush on her? haha…..jk unless?? (no jk dont shes all mine, stay away >:) ) anyways, i hope the three of us hang out soon. maybe go to that ice cream parlour where they serve the best cookies and cream?

signed,

your daisy,

y/n/n

[19/07/15, 01:23am]

peepee poopoo hello

heyheyhey!! (heh, haikyuu thingz) i hope youre doing okay! i mean sure you are, with everything going so well. also i feel like you're not telling me something. maybe it's just me? is it? i hope it is because you tell me everything,, we've been talking less these days but its okay! i know how busy you are, especially with your dad always bugging you,,

also, i think yeonbin likes you :0,, she keeps talking about you whenever we hang out. don't get me wrong, its not bad that she likes you but...something doesn't feel right. i feel like i'm being the third wheeler here and like ugh idk. haha laughs yea i think its just me.. im sorry, i didnt mean to do you like this,, anyways, ill see you soon + her too ofc- yall are inseparable lmao

signed,

your moonlight,

y/n/n

[23/07/15, 01:56am]

greetings, kind sir

lol more like mean sir but like aight KSKSK,, anyways,, how have you been? we haven't really talked in a while,, our convos are always so short with it being one-sided :/ i wish you were online more. yeonnie is ignoring me,, do you know why? i think you do,,, but when i asked you just said you didnt know. did i do something wrong? pls tell me..

she blocked my contact the other day and she won't even smile at me when i pass her in the hallways. its,, sad and stressful especially because she was the only one that would genuinely talk to me. i hate to say this,, but i miss you. us, hanging out like the best trio we are, yknow? but i dont think you miss me the same way. sorry, im getting out of hand. i know im just overreacting. im just gonna sleep ig,, good night! sweet dreams,,

signed,

your pink lemonade,

y/n/n

[25/07/15, 03:25am]

hi there

i heard you and her got together?? congrats, jinnie! im so proud of you,, especially because you never had even considered getting a girlfriend a few months earlier lmaO you really woo the ladies huh? anyways,, i hope you've been well since we last talked,, how many days has it been?? i would say nearly a week or so but honestly it feels like a hundred years,, considering you and i used to talk every day. but you have her now to keep you company.

keep this a secret but can you possibly tell me why it hurts when i see her? or when i mention her or even think of her?? is it because she's connected to you? but.. you're my best friend, so why? is it because i miss you? is it because im alone now? is it because you left me with a simple 'i have to go now,, bye y/n/n.'? im not sure either. im being silly, i apologize. ill figure it out sooner or later. sweet dreams, jinnie

signed,

your asswipe,

y/n

[25/07/15, 04:30am]

jinnie

it's because i love you.

signed,

your butterfly,

y/n

[??/08/??, 05:??am]

you

i miss your lame jokes. i miss your smile. i miss your laughs. i miss your funny faces. i miss the way your eyes twinkle. i miss th way you would make me happy just by doing the bare minimum. i miss the disaster you made when cooking breakfast. i miss the night when you snuck me out just to go to that pretty lantern event. i miss when you would call out my name everytime we met. i miss when we would share earbuds in train rides. dont you get it, hyunjin? i miss you.

[??/??/15, ??:??am]

asshole.

please tell me that isn't true, please. you're too kind to do these kinds of things, right? + i was your best friend,, then, why, why did you hurt me like this. i didnt do anything wrong.. you couldve just told me you didnt like me,,, why did she have to tell me? out of all people.

youre so pathetic for this,, i thought you were brave, bold - but youre just a fucking coward. i loved you, i really did. and i realised too late… im sorry. she,, i shouldn't have talked to her in the first place, right? i bet you knew she humiliated me, in front of everyone. of course you did, you were the only one that knew. you told her. fuck, i hate you so much (yet why do i long for you on a night like this?). you know how much that'll affect me and yet, there you are, laughing about it with her.

signed,

fuck off,

you know who i am.

[31/08/15, 03:41am]

ah, jinnie

please tell me this is just a nightmare. please, please. stop just reading my texts, please answer them. jinnie. i miss you so much. i dont care bout her, please just let me be in your arms. i dont care if you love me back, please just talk to me at least. tell me what i did wrong,, jinnie,, please,,, clear these tear stains on my cheek with kisses.

signed,

your fuck-up,

y/n

[15/09/15, 04:59am]

jinnie

why do i keep crying because of you? its been a few weeks since everything has happened. please, nothing has changed. i still love you the same even with all the hatred i have pent up in this stupid brain of mine. i wish i could just walk back in time, to where it all began.

when i first met you in third grade and you pushed me while playing soccer or maybe when we took those ridiculous prom pictures, remember those? i hope you still have them,, because i do too. i hope the pictures of us on your wall still hang there,, it'll remind you of the happy times. hm,, maybe you don't need them.

you already have millions of pictures with you and her,, i bet you printed some and replaced those with ours right? sly dog.

signed,

friend,

y/n/n

[04/02/16, 12:57am]

hey

i went to the park today and saw both of you being happy. it's nice to see your smile again. im sorry i didnt go up to you,, i just thought it would be awkward. when i heard that adorable laugh of yours, it made me realise that i lost something special. but it's okay isnt it? as your happiness matters more than mine.

signed,

y/n

[06/01/20, 08:00pm]

dear hyunjin,

im doing fine here. how about you? gosh,, how long has it been? years? since we last talked to each other. i havent heard from you since. i would just like to say i still think of you sometimes, when watering the plants or dancing while making pancakes. sometimes i think you're here with me too, just being the pals we were.

sometimes i'd see you out, just reading a book in the park or buying pasta sauce at the grocery store. it's nice to see you having a stable life. im not sure if you're still with her or not, but its good to know that you still have that large friend group. also! you're never gonna guess who im dating--

it's minho! do you remember him? the one that i used to hate,, uh yeah. he asked me out the other day- you may wonder how tf,,, i too do not know how tf but he gives the best hugs ever. he gave me the love i wanted from you. he stitched my heart back together after it broke,, i love him so much, jinnie..

it's snowing,, do you remember when we would skate on the frozen lake in front of your house? are your parents well? i wonder if your mother still has those earrings i bought for her birthday. i never told you this but your laugh and hers sound so similar.

i would just like to say thank you, for everything. you were a big part of my life, up until now. when we see each other after this, we would just be strangers. maybe flash a little smile or give a little wave whenever we greet each other but nothing more. some memories of us would flow in every now and then but it'll just be a short teaser. well, i'll be going now. smile for me, okay?

signed,

the one that loved you the most,

y/n.

taglist // @/noya-sannnn, @crvgio , @neo-shitty

reply to be in my gen taglist!

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unwelcomebraininvaders · 4 years ago

Text

Background info

Unwelcome invaders of my brain

i decided to share this story for anyone who is interested for two reasons:

1. I believe in the power of prayer and/or intentional thoughts to heal. I could use all the prayers/intentions you can send my way starting Oct. 12.

2. It seems therapeutic at this point to write about this.

So here we go:

The first symptoms:

Back at the end of 2020 I had what I presumed was an upper respiratory infection and plugged right ear. Someone I work with had the same symptoms so I thought nothing of it. After this went on for a month or so I made an appointment with the ENT. They treated me with steroids and my symptoms did not go away. I went back and they tested my hearing. The Dr. ordered an MRI without telling me what he was suspicious of. I assumed some blockage in my ear.

The first MRI:

I go for this MRI. The next day I get an email the the results are posted in MyChart. I look at the results and they talk about two different kinds of tumors. I call my ENT and tell the front desk--"hey I'm kind of freaking out--my MRI report is posted to MyChart and it's talking about me having two different kinds of brain tumors--I don't have an appointment to see the ENT for another week. Can you get me in sooner?" The receptionist--"hmm...let me look....No sorry can't see you for a week" In my mind " @$!&*" Okay...it's up to me to look this up on Dr. Google and see what I'm dealing with. I google--Ok well at least they appear to both be benign--that's a relief. Can I just tell you the panic of not even knowing if they were cancerous or benign and having no Dr. appt for a whole week!

The ENT Visit a week later

Him: "It turns out you have an Acoustic Neuroma which is a benign brain tumor...blah blah blah "

Me in my mind: "No shit -- you are now proceeding to tell me everything I just spent the last week researching online" "Do you actually think I didn't look at the MRI report the day it was posted to MyChart"

Now what

So I spend the next several weeks researching whether to have radiation to try to kill the tumor or surgery to remove the tumor. I talk with two doctors who do radiation and three doctors who do surgery. The two who do radiation think I'm a good candidate for radiation. Two of the surgeons think I should do surgery. The third surgeon thinks I can go either way. Great! A tie!! So helpful....not! People in my personal life advocate for radiation since it's less invasive--so that becomes the tie breaker.

Radiation

I take the week off work and have radiation. It's every day for 5 days. I feel tired during that week and the following week...but then it's pretty much back to normal. Other than the hearing loss...I feel like my normal self again! Yay! This was too easy. (yes it was too easy)

3 months later

Wow I have an earache on my radiated side and feel like maybe I have a sinus infection. Go to the PA at the ENT's office....she gives me a CT scan and prescribes an antibiotic for my "infection" and steroid for my "swelling" A few days later...the pain is now stabbing in my ear and radiating down to my jaw and the right side of my neck. Hmmm...that doesn't seem normal. ENT's office is closed...talk to the ENT on call...he looks at my CT scan..."you don't have an infection" (great! so I've been taking antibiotics for nothing) Just continue taking the steroid. Fine....so now I'm also on 3000mg per day of over the counter pain meds just to keep myself somewhat out of pain. 3 weeks later I talk to the Radation oncology PA. She puts my on a different steroid. Take that for a week....no change. Finally after a month of lots of pain meds and steroids...the pain magically goes away to replaced by....facial paralysis.

Facial paralysis

Alright this kind of sucks. My right eye won't blink and the right side of my mouth doesn't do what it should. But at least the pain is gone!! So make appointments with my care team to discuss paralysis...they do another MRI. "ooh look at the the center of the tumor died like it was supposed to" uhh that's great I guess but there are some quality of life issues with a partially paralyzed face. "well we have never had a patient with your kind of tumor have facial paralysis after radiation" "we'd like you to have Avastin infusions". I think to myself--well you guys seem pretty smart...let's try it.

Avastin Infusion

It took 6 nurses to find a blood vessel to get my bloodwork done and start the IV. SIX!! Do blood vessels hide if you're scared They must. The next day oh my the pain on the side of my face again! After two weeks of respite from the pain I was oh so sad for it to be back again. I call the care team...their response "hmm...that's odd this infusion shouldn't cause pain". Umm well it did.

Exploring my next steps

Once a tumor has been radiated it is more challenging to remove. So I call up one of the top surgeons of these kinds of tumors and ask for him to let me know what my next step should be. His patient care coordinator says he actually wants to speak with me...so we have a phone call. I'm expecting him to say..."if after x number of months you aren't getting better then you should consider surgery". What he says instead is "you should get this tumor removed as soon as possible" OK then. I said, can it wait a month -- He said, sooner is better.

Timing is not the best

I guess the only way timing for something like this could be better is if you have surgery when there is no hurry. But with this timeline my challenges are:

1. I have an office remodel starting 5 days before I leave to fly down for surgery.

2. I am in the midst of hiring a new doctor. When do I onboard her

This unwanted tenant will be evicted Oct. 12

This is top priority

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bisluthq · 4 years ago

Note

this is like really random but i have to vent. so basically i’m 20 years old and in my second-year at a uk university. and like i had the worst first-year of my life, made no friends, and got long covid plus really bad depression so yeah it wasn’t great. and now im back at uni i just am really feeling my lack of experience. iv never even properly kissed anyone let alone had sex and all the drinking games etc revolve around sex. i’m pretty sure i’m bi just like based on what i masturbate to but i’v only ever looked at guys as potential relationships. i just like don’t know how to navigate the social world with no friends and no sexual experience, it just feels impossible. and all my friends from home (1 of which is at uni with me) have boyfriends or at least have had sex. and also clubbing feels totally revolved around sex and kissing. it’s really hard to admit to people that i’m a virgin because people assume i’m a prude or a weirdo when i’m not i just haven’t really had the opportunity. i’m just feeling like such a loser atm. oh aaaand i actually really want a boyfriend rn.

Firstly, this is totally normal and nothing to be ashamed of. There’s no timeline for these things.

Secondly, so this is going to be a long winded Agony AuNat but sometimes I think my best ones are. In a way, this reminds me of a friend I had like 20-21 at uni. Basically we became friends because I caught her forum role playing and I was like “lmaoooo I used to do that too!” and we like bonded over it and like very quickly I began realizing that she did it on the kinds of sites me and my online friends laughed at because they weren’t ⚡️aesthetic⚡️ or sexy. Like this was some high fantasy bullshit lol - no offense also cool - on like ProBoards when we were already in the Jcink era. Anyway no biggie. This girl - a horse girl at 20 still and not in the rich bitch way - proceeded to like… idolize me and obvi y’all know how much I like attention so I loved it. And one night she asked me for advice on how to get kissed because she had been like… really wanting to lose her virginity but things just weren’t happening. I proceeded to give the worst advice ever because I too was just a young un. I said “don’t worry it’s gonna happen for you!!! Like I’m sure your crush likes you!! Don’t stress you’re so pretty and sweet!” And I believed I was saying the right stuff and it comforted her ngl so I was like 👏🏻👏🏻 go Nat you’re the best at giving advice.

Except here’s the problem - it still wasn’t happening. She was going to parties with me and I was like dressing her sluttier like some weird teen romcom movie where I was giving her a makeover and like… no one was biting.

And then - for those who remember the Nat Cinematic Universe - it turned out that rando from my 21st who I randomly fucked? Ya dudes that was her crush lol and she hadn’t told me because she thought I’d figure it out lol and she was mad at me and we sorta stayed friends until I fucked that guy’s friend which was nbd to anyone involved because my bestie fucked him and tbh I fancied the friend because he was this average sized weedy dark haired boy who was very weird looking and she exploded at me and called me a slut and shit and that was that, friendship over.

Unsure what happened next, but the reason I’ve given you this backstory is from my current POV I gave extremely bad advice so I’m gonna try correct with you tonight.

Unless you’re in high school when friends of friends can go between people and say you have a crush, and then you text them and like bam you’re exclusive, you have to work to get ass or make friends. Okay the other exception is if you’re like SUPER hot idk about that life, but tbh probs even then. Life isn’t a teen movie, and you’re not gonna just catch someone’s eye and that’ll be that. Dressing nicely might be part of it, doing your hair and makeup in whatever style you want, and making it clear up front - especially at uni when imo branding™️ matters a lot - what your interests are and such shit all factor in. I’m not saying change who you are because again that’s supremely bad advice: figure out who you are. Figure out what you want to wear (experiment!), who you want to talk to (strike up convos on campus!), what you like doing (try things out!) and - most importantly - what you’re comfortable with. Try drinking - and if you don’t like it, don’t do it. Try flirting - and if you don’t like it, know that you can go from friends to this and not everyone enjoys that. Try clubbing - and if you don’t like it, know that there are a ton of societies you can join on campus and campus events you can go to that don’t revolve around that, so seek those out and find your tribe.

Fundamentally, college is what you make of it.

Which means that like unfortunately my dude, you’ll make a fool of yourself. Probably more than once.

But know that friends won’t manifest and boys won’t manifest unless you make an effort and put yourself out there. Ask people to coffee. Ask people to the pub. Girls, boys, enbies, whoever.

Re the anxiety about “never having done this before” - I think that’s totally normal. But also like lots of other people haven’t and everyone has had a first time. In drinking games you can lie lol. You don’t need to advertise it’s your first time for anything if you’re uncomfortable with it. I didn’t tell my first kiss he was my first kiss lol because it was unnecessary info for him tbh (it wasn’t hs boyfriend even tho I’m pretty sure I was his lol but he was my third 😌).

But you also don’t need to be shy about it because honestly 2nd year uni is so fucking young. It’s not like you’re coming to me as a 40 year old virgin and asking for advice (again no timeline but I’m not there yet so maybe not the right person to give it). Most of the people you’re hanging out with haven’t had a ton of sexual experience either lmao. On my 20th birthday I had been with exactly two people, my Angel boyfriend (in hindsight) hs ex and the Rabbi’s son (literally no one’s Angel boyfriend but hopefully he and his tiny dick are married now and Mazels if so) who I fucked a few days after we broke up to prove a point. I was a bad lay (and remain so with guys unless they’re into The Hiddles Experience, not for lack of opportunities, but because we don’t have to master all things). I also - unlike you - had never masturbated. I’d never had an orgasm. I liked sex with hs ex but couldn’t explain what I liked or why, it was just fun sometimes and other times it wasn’t. (In hindsight with clit action it was fun and with pure thrusting it wasn’t). So the fact that you have wanked already gives you a head start over many of the girls guys will be meeting.

So like… figure out what’s comfortable for you. Try different things out. Walk away when you don’t like it. Never do stuff that goes against your values. Don’t be overly shy in ways that wind up making you uncomfortable, like with the story that started this, and don’t expect these things to happen if you make no effort. That applies to friendships and ass alike. And sometimes what you think will be ass will turn into friendships and sometimes what you think will be friendship will turn into more. Let it. That’s what uni’s for.

Final point: try reduce the pressure of having a boyfriend. It’s fine if it happens, but since as you say you’re not a prude, it’s fine if it doesn’t. It will eventually. Try go into encounters with the open mindedness of “this could be ass, this could be friendship, this could be more” and like clear eyes full hearts can’t lose tbh.

Final final point: join societies. Join all the societies. The best way to both get ass and make friends and make friends discussing the ass you’re getting is by joining societies.

Good luck, hope this helped, love you lots and enjoy this year and the next (and beyond if you choose Honours or postgrad).

#agony aunat

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goose-books · 4 years ago

Photo

goose-books productions: a 2020 review

view the image in higher quality here! (open the image in a new tab to zoom in.) thank you to my dearest @yvesdot for the template

transcripts and month-by-month details under the cut! for reference, you can find my projects here :-) overall, new and old followers, thank you for another good year over here! [holds your hand] [holds your hand] [holds your hand] [holds your h

january

i spent late 2019-early 2020 working on 2019’s nano project, quark, aka the speculative fiction thing about new york city and prophets and dissections of the chosen one trope and gay people. quark is my second-oldest project (five years!), but it’s also probably the most ambitious, so it’s been... difficult to wrangle into place, and i didn’t end up finishing a first draft. oh, well.

enjoy a snippet that is devastatingly emblematic of everything about quark. the tone. the homoerotic tension. the ensemble cast all talking over each other. the fact that caelum has spent pretty much this entire scene crying. fun autopsy report meeting.

Marble stares at the notebook in Shade’s hands. Or maybe he’s staring at Shade’s hands. Dawn feels a little voyeuristic, so she does what she does and says a dumb and unrelated thing: “Augustus, I think this pizza-on-the-floor thing is hurting my ass.”

Augustus flutters his hands. “Sometimes nonconformity is painful.”

“At least we’re originals,” Caelum mumbles into his sleeve.

“Exactly,” Augustus says.

“True originality doesn’t exist,” Marble says.

“Oh,” Shade deadpans, “it’s going to be a fun autopsy report meeting.”

It isn’t.

february

in january i stressed myself out trying to make the plot of quark work. so in february, i decided to take some time and write something Entirely For Fun. like, entirely for fun, no rules. and. my god. how do i explain the project i started calling “third eye for the bad guy.”

it was an unholy mashup of many of my past hyperfixations, including the gone series, a tale of two cities, warrior cats, and the left hand of darkness. one of the characters was a canon scalie and one was a canon fictionkinnie. it centered around a polycule of wannabe-evil-overlord high schoolers. i only wrote like three chapters but i was lost in the sauce for all of february and then i just… like… wiped it from my mind and moved on? somehow??? one character was a werewolf and that literally wasn’t relevant at ALL

Someone was going to die on these steps.

This had been Ivy Lee Palomo’s thought last year during the all-school photo, and it rose in her mind again now. The one hundred marble stairs leading up to the great double doors of Saint Constantine Academy were the school’s pride and glory, steep as the mountain, sharp as the blade under Ivy Lee’s skirt. With the cutting wind and snow glazing the stone more often than not, with the freshmen wild and wired on their first day of their first year, it was really only a matter of time before someone slipped and cracked their fucking head open.

It wasn’t going to be her. Not when she had Doc Martens and reflexes like an electric coil. Still. Ivy Lee didn’t want to watch someone die. She didn’t get along with dead people.

march

in march, i got back to the project i’d started in 2019 - AMT, my podcast! it’s a shakespeare retelling set in a modern high school; this excerpt is funnier and also more unnerving in context. (double, double, toil and trouble...)

INDRAJIT: What the hell are you doing?

[PAUSE.]

DEE (like she’s lying): Making pasta.

[ALL THREE OF THEM LAUGH.]

NONA: That’s right.

MORA: We have the keys to Mab’s office.

DEE: We’re using her stove.

NONA: To make pasta.

DEE: Do you want some?

[A TENSE PAUSE.]

INDRAJIT: No.

april

and darkling rears its head! all of my other projects have existed for at least a year; darkling (specfic king lear retelling) is... special. it was conceived in april, when i started hyperfixating on king lear, and i still managed to write an absolutely ridiculous amount of content for it. it was like the power of hyperfixation let me speedrun the entire process. which. okay.

iv: control

They say Cressida Stayer was nine years old when she turned her hair to gold. They laid her down in bed blonde, and the next morning, the waves cascading down her shoulders were solid metal, glinting harshly in the sunlight, weighing her down, creating that odd head-cocked expression she still wears now. Nine years old. Two or three years before most people develop enough magic skills to dye a single curl. Much less transfigure their hair into precious metal.

People also say Leovald Stayer’s immediate reaction was to hack it off her head and melt it down for cash. But generally they say that part a lot quieter.

may

in may i wrote AMT episode 15, by which i mean that in may there was a day when i sat in my room with the door shut for literally five straight hours listening to the same three songs on loop as i wrote the climax of one of the plotlines of AMT. so. that sure was… a day.

ISAAC: Do you want… do you want someone to drive you home? Hawk, you’re worrying me -

HAWK (almost cutting him off): Don’t. Don’t say that. I’m here to help. With your… thing.

ISAAC (quietly): I… don’t know if you should be here to see this.

HAWK (a little louder, more audibly upset): Well - what else am I going to do? Go home and - and have my dads talk at me and - and not be able to answer them? Because I can’t? I can’t. I don’t know what to say.

[PAUSE.]

ISAAC (V.O.): I wonder if this is what he feels like, on the outside, looking in at me. Watching someone else hurting. Helpless and afraid.

He still fits perfectly in my arms. I rest my chin on top of his head and pull him close to me, like I can stop him from shaking, like I can stop anything from happening the way I know it’s going to. I bury my face in his hair. He smells so familiar. He’s so warm.

God, Hawk. I love you so much. You shouldn’t be here to see this. Something bad’s gonna happen. And you’re not the kind of person who belongs in a tragedy.

june

okay, honestly, i should talk about “night shift” here, because in june i wrote a whole short story in one night (and then foamed over it for a week), but i am still in the process of submitting it places! so i am terrified to put even a sentence of it online. instead: the other thing i did this month was to finish AMT! (sixteen episodes and somewhere around 175k, iirc, but don’t quote me.) these lines are the opener to the final episode!

RAHMA (V.O.): The combined series of sophomore year disasters stretched through November. It’s June now. It’s taken me… a long time to get this all put together. I was going to make a vlog about it, initially - well, calling it a vlog sounds frivolous. I was going to make a video recounting the whole deal. All of it. From when I kissed Avery Fairchilde to the very last night. I scripted dozens of drafts; I put together dozens of bullet-pointed lists of what to cover… and it was never enough. Because Avery and I weren’t the only ones involved. Even if I was only focused on the two of us, it wasn’t just the two of us.

So… I gathered up everyone else. The whole town of Ellisburg is still talking about the week the town went crazy, but it wasn’t just a week. There was a lot leading up to it. And I think if anyone’s going to talk about it, it should be us. The people who lived it. So here we are. The most ambitious Rahma Ashiq production of all time - at least so far.

july

every july i pause whatever else i’m doing to celebrate the birthday of aurum & argentate, twins from my oldest and dearest WIP The Mortal Realm. july fifteenth! mark your calendars. they’re princes, though argentate would really rather not be; you can read the full birthday piece here.

“Do you… plan to get dressed?” A bit of the usual humor crept back into Aurum’s voice. “Although if you want to speak to the kingdom in your underthings, by all means, you have my full support.”

Argentate scrubbed at his face. He wasn’t dressed, no, but the usual malaise hung over his shoulders like a cloak. Guilt. Nerves. The sick sense that he hadn’t done something he was supposed to. The numb knowledge that it was too late to change a thing.

“I meant to,” he said. “Get dressed, I mean.” The rest went unsaid: I have just been sitting here. On the floor. Thinking about how I should get dressed.

“Ah,” Aurum said, extending his hand. “The traditional route. We’ll save the nude speeches for the future, then.”

Argentate took his hand, stumbling a little as Aurum pulled him to his feet. He steadied himself on the closest wall, taking a few deep breaths. Don’t panic. Don’t panic. His hands found their way to the cross, again and again.

august

this summer, i wrote an entire draft of Valentine Van Velt is Dead, AKA “holden caulfield goes to exposure therapy,” AKA the weird little personal side project i keep tucked into my coat. interesting features include second-person narration from a narrator who doesn’t like the main character all that much. so reading it is kind of like the book wants to kill you? with an added dash of general melancholy.

You used to live here. That’s the thing that’s got you feeling so off.

You didn’t recognize your old house. I mean, you kind of did. You remembered that the road was on a hill. That hill felt like a goddamn forty-five degree angle when you were a kid. But if you didn’t have the address written down you wouldn’t have known it at all. It would have been just another little suburban house in rows of perfect little towns that make your skin crawl.

So now you’re in this diner looking out a gross smudgy window trying to block out the elevator music pumping through the speakers in the ceiling or whatever. I don’t know how speakers work. You’re trying to tune that shit out. The waitress comes over and catches you by surprise so you just point at some coffee thing on the menu so she’ll go away. For the record: you don’t drink coffee.

There’s a public library across the street. A little square building. You probably used to go there. The lady comes over and thunks your coffee on the table and gives you a kind of look, like she wants to know what in the goddamn hell you think you’re doing here and not at school. You sip your coffee and look out the window until she leaves you alone again. And then you spit it back into the cup because, for the record: you don’t drink coffee.

september

i spent september and october prepping for nano, so i was mostly working on darkling...

It’s late spring; still, at this time of night, on a rooftop, there’s a chill. The wind plays with the end of Ruby’s coat, with her hair. She hands the bottle off to Jasper, stares up at the fogged-over sky, wishes she were lying in Dany’s arms in Dany’s bed instead of here. Wishes, even, that Dany were the one on the roof with her. At least then they’d be cold together. At least then she wouldn’t have to imagine what Dany would say; she could just listen, and watch Dany’s flashing smile and her flinty eyes.

(She cuddles. This is another thing Dany does that Dany probably shouldn’t do, based on everything about Dany; it’s not like rattlesnakes cuddle. But Dany likes to nuzzle into Ruby’s side and rest her head on Ruby’s collarbones and toss an arm over Ruby’s chest, and hold her down like she’s worried she’ll float off somewhere. She’ll card her fingers through Ruby’s hair and hum. Even though they could get caught, even though she’s probably got better places to be - Dany cuddles.)

Ruby imagines it, momentarily, both of them on the roof together, sprawled like horrifyingly beautiful gargoyles, sharp teeth flashing, blood running hot. Up here - it’d be like they ruled the world.

But whatever. Jasper’s fun. He’s hot. He’s got a sharp tongue in a lot more ways than one. And she likes when he lets the mask down. She likes seeing the soft bits underneath. She wants to sink her teeth and nails into them so hard she draws blood. Masks don’t bleed. Ruby would know; that’s why she is what she is.

october

...though i was also in creative writing class in school, and thus ended up writing a bunch of poems of varying quality (my teacher had a real thing for poetry) and also one darklingverse short story where rory and cressida hold hands! which you can find here.

Lorelai Rory Flowers is afraid of thunder.

This is a bit of an embarrassing thing to admit, as they’re seventeen (“at least seventeen,” they like to tell people, “maybe two hundred, who’s to say?”) and generally wise beyond their years, or whatever it is that adults say about kids with too much psychological baggage. Being afraid of thunder is not a very wise-beyond-one’s-years trait. And yet the state of affairs remains: loud noises make Rory want to melt into the earth. Back when they still went to school, even the fire alarm sent them scuttling under their desk to hide.

Right now, in the elevator, all they can do is shrink into their sweater.

They haven’t let go of Cressida’s hand yet.

november

and then november of course was nano which was an adventure all the way through. (opening tumblr on the fifth day of nano to find out about d*stiel... was something.)

“Apologize to me. Or get out of my house.”

Gracen’s voice is very, very low. For a moment she thinks he hasn’t heard her at all. Then he spins, eyes blazing. “What did you say?”

Gracen watches her own chest heave. She pushes herself up off the desk, stands with the effort of pushing a mountain off of her back. Leovald is six-foot-four. Gracen is six-foot-two. In her heels, in the heels she must wear to be a professional woman, to be a lady - they are the same height.

Gracen wipes her nose. When she lowers her arm, there’s a streak of blood across the back of her hand. Fire shivers in her chest; her heart rings in her ears; her voice could cut steel.

“I said,” she says, low, slow, volume building, “apologize to me. Or get. Out. Of. My. House.”

december

and finally, the poem i posted this year! it’s called the beast sonnet, and you can find it in its own post over here (with commentary! how sexy.)

i kill the beast and drop down to my knees, my blade stained dark with blood of stygian hue, and for a moment these scarred hands shake free, and hold a world unfurled for me anew. but once-mourned victims, victors, vices find; fear winged me; now its absence strips me bare. my sword now dulls, my legs, my voice, my mind; the beast, pried from my throat, leaves no skill there. and still i hear it laugh, O DEVOTEE— O CHILD DEAR, NO GLORY WITHOUT ME.

i was quite productive this year; i have to think it was because i was avoiding things... the peak of my productivity happened over the summer and in november, AKA, college app hell. (almost done with the last applications! pray for me.)

a general breakdown of what occupied me this year:

(no, i don’t know why the “various other things” category ended up so large... i blame all the one-off projects i wrote a single page for, and also whatever the fuck happened in february. yes, i do know why it looks hideous; it’s because each of my WIPs has a theme color

thank you once again for spending some time at goose-books dot gov this year! what to expect for next year: well, i very much hope i can produce AMT... also hoping to get darkling ready for beta readers, so keep your eyes out!

#max.txt #and that's a wrap!!! what a goddamn year.#okay. breath in. tags:#quark tag #third eye tag #(i think there are like. two posts in that one?)#amt tag #darkling tag #tmr tag #vvvid tag #wow that was a lot of text. if you read all this... [blows you a kiss] thank you!#max actually writes #year in review

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edourado · 5 years ago

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Together, ch iv

Here’s chapter four, because I need something light and fluffy, to help me stomach the world. I’m sad, I’m angry, sick to my stomach, I am legit losing faith in humanity, I burst out in tears at any given moment. And I don’t want to lose my mind, so here’s me coping.

This is nothing, its a silly piece of fluffy fanfiction, but it’s for George Floyd, for Ahmaud Arbery, for João Pedro, a 14 year old black boy from Rio who was shot by police while playing inside his home, for every black individual who died because they were black, for their families, for the protesters. This is nothing, nothing, nothing, but it has a little of my heart in it, so it’s for them.

I hope it makes you smile.

-------

It wasn’t long until Frank got cabin fever.

Staying inside all day was not at all like him. How long had he been spending most of his days outside, moving, doing something, or just looking at the people walking around the street?

To Karen’s amusement - and delight - he cleaned the entire apartment, top to bottom, and was even able to remove the touch stains on the light switches. He did something to the fridge, and by the time he was done, the shelves and the door were gleaming as if had just arrived from the store, brand new.

But the apartment was not big enough to keep him entertained for long, so he started ordering things online to improve on little stuff, like the shelves she needed for her shoes, since she had needed to make room for his, or these fancy magnets to install on bottom of the doors, so they would stop banging shut whenever it was a little windy. He spent a whole afternoon on the phone with David Lieberman, deciding on the best cameras to install around the place.

Reading only took him so far. He went through four books before he found it hard to keep still, and it was even worse with Netflix.

Then, one day, the masks they bought from the neighbor from two floors down were ready, and she texted to let them know she had left them at their door.

“I thought they’d be much worse”, Karen said, after they wired the neighbor the money and collected the neatly packed masks. “These are good, look!”

She put one on and they were, indeed, much better than they both had expected. Not fancy or in any way tech advanced, but a simple cloth mask that covered mouth and nose without leaving gaps. All of them black.

“I think I’ll order more”, Karen mused, while Frank put one on. As far as masks go, this was not the worst he had ever worn, not by a long shot.

That night, Frank lied awake in bed, his finger twitching, unable to sleep. They had cooked a big dinner together, looking for something to do to spend the time and use the things they had on the pantry, trying to avoid spoiling food.

Karen had also stayed awake for longer than usual, but now she breathed slowly, sleeping by his side, and Frank had given up keeping his eyes closed, and now stared at the ceiling.

After what seemed like forever, he looked at the window and noticed that the sky was starting to become a tad lighter. When he checked his phone, it told him it was 4:34 in the morning. With a glance at Karen, he got up, careful not to wake her.

After silently dressing, Frank picked up his phone from the bedside table and carried his shoes to the living room, stopping to pick up one of the masks they had washed before starting on dinner. The radiator had dried them all completely, leaving them warm and crisp feeling.

Closing the apartment door silently behind him, he locked it and then moved quickly down the stairs.

He couldn’t take a proper breath in, with the mask covering his mouth and nose, but the fresh air that made it through his lungs when he inhaled deeply were enough to make him feel better already. Looking at the empty street before him, Frank set off for the first jog he had in years.

Ever since he came back from his last tour, he favored other ways of exercising. Jogging was neither possible nor efficient after the whole mess, but it felt good, it felt natural, to run without hurry and from nobody, not chasing anybody. Run for the sake of running.

He was on a break by the river, almost an hour later, when his phone pinged.

“Ok”, said Karen’s text, in reply to the one he had sent her before he left the apartment, letting her know he was off for a run. “Have fun”, and then, almost as an afterthought, “Be careful. Don’t touch anything and don’t take off your mask.”

“Yes, ma’am”, he replied.

Frank ran for a good while. Not counting the time, or the miles, or his heartbeat, he just ran, took breaks, walked and then ran some more, looking as the morning made the city brighter, noticing how strange it the streets looked, so empty, even this early. He ran and he wished he could take off his mask, but he didn’t, happy that at least he was able to breathe some fresh air and not see any walls around him, for a change.

The sun was up when he turned to make his way back, at 7:15.

There was a bakery one corner away from home, and the smell of fresh bread lured him in. A man in uniform, a mask and gloves told him they just took a fresh batch out of the oven, and Frank bought a few, along with cheese and two cups of coffee (which they had at the apartment, but he figured these people were risking themselves to provide food for the neighborhood and try and keep their business alive, so what’s two cups of extra coffee?)

“Thank you so much for your support” said the guy, handing him the bag and the cup holder through a window.

“Thank you”, Frank replied, happy for this little slice of normal. “You guys open tomorrow?”

“From seven to seven.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then. Name’s Frank.”

“I’m Ray. See you, Frank. Have a good day.”

He walked the rest of the way, and had to balance his purchases in one hand while taking the key from his shoe, towing said shoes off and unlocking the door, walking in in his socks.”

“Frank?” Karen called from the bedroom.

“I’m here” he called back, starting the new strange process of cleaning the things he brought home with him.

After putting the warm bread on the designated bread basket and disposing of the paper bag, he transferred the cheese to a clean container and the coffee to the coffee pot, where Karen had not yet pushed the button to brew.

After his shower, he walked to the bedroom, feeling much, much better than he felt before getting up this morning.

Karen was still in bed, phone in hand, and smiled at him when he walked in.

“Hi”, she greeted, and he walked to her. “Enjoy your run?”

“Hmm”, was his answer, lying down half on top of her, kissing her gently, closing his eyes when her hands caressed his hair. “I brought breakfast.”

“I can smell it”, she said, softly. “That show we wanted to watch is available on Netflix. Wanna eat on the couch and watch it with me?”

He made them egg sandwiches and brought it to the couch while she cued the new show on TV, and when he settled down to watch it, he didn’t feel restless or that itch that made him want to get up every five seconds.

What a difference, a run made.

.:.

He came back to the apartment on the fourth day with croissants and the usual coffee, sweating profusely, since he had not made any stops this time, nor did he walk, and the jog was just straight up sprinting.

“Kare?” he called from the kitchen.

“I’m here!” she called back, and he saw her hand waving at him through the window. She was in the fire escape.

He had to deal with the sanitizing of the shopping and then a shower, so it was a few minutes before he walked to the living room window.

Before he got to the ledge, she popped her head inside and smiled at him.

“I got you something.”

When Frank ducked to climb out to the narrow fire escape, he saw what she had gotten: a hammock.

Cream colored, she had tied it on the iron bars above head, it hung a good few inches above the floor. She had placed two throw pillows in it, plus a heavy blanket.

“You’ve been feeling so cooped up, I thought this would maybe help a little.

Turning to her, Frank smiled and moved to kiss her.

“You didn’t have to do that”, he said, a hand caressing her hair.

“I wanted to. I’m only sorry it took so long to arrive, I ordered it almost a month ago.”

Frank looked at the hammock, swaying lightly in the wind, and thought that this small act, this simple purchase for his benefit made him a little more sure that she meant it, when she said she loved him.

It was silly, he knew that, but there still was a little part of him that expected her to wake up one day and realize that all she thought she felt for him was nothing but the thrill of the danger, the forbidden, the very ill advised act of rebellion, or even misinterpreted feelings of concern and worry and gratitude.

The fact that she didn’t run away from him after they slept together for the first time, or asked him to stay after the second third fourth and so on, asked him to move in, gave him a key, made room for his things, made room for him, bought him a hammock. It all told him that yeah, she was serious about that love.

“Maybe we can have breakfast here?” he suggested, and she beamed, nodding.

“So you like it?”

“I do”, he said against her mouth. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Settle in, I’ll get the food.”

They ate the croissants and drank the coffee while sharing the hammock, after adjusting the height a little bit.

“This is so good”, she said around a mouthful of warm croissant, taking a sip of coffee, looking out at the street below them.

Frank watched as the morning light caught in her hair, how it made her eyes shine just a tad bluer, accentuated the few freckles she had on her nose.

“Yeah, it is”, he agreed, squeezing her foot under the blanket, thankful that, if he had to be stuck inside, at least it was with her.

#I feel stupid posting this #I feel powerless and guilty #but it's relief #kastle #kastle ff #kastle fluff #frank castle #karen page #the punisher #daredevil

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alanlicht · 5 years ago

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Alan Licht’s Minimal Top Ten List #4

A few weeks ago, near the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic, my friend Mats Gustafsson sent out a mass email encouraging people to send him record lists to post on the “Discaholics” section of his website--top tens, favorite covers, anything. I immediately thought of the first 3 Minimal Top Ten lists I did (now found online here) back in 1995, 1997, and 2007 respectively, for the fanzine Halana (the first two) and Volcanic Tongue’s website (the third), and sent them to him. Those articles have sort of taken on a life of their own, and I still see them referenced as the albums get reissued and so on. Occasionally people ask me if I’d ever do another one, and looking at all three again made me think now is the hour. I started writing this in the midst of the lockdown, and the drastic reductions in people’s way of life—the restriction of any activity outside the home to the bare essentials, the relative stasis of life in quarantine, even the visual stasis of a Zoom meeting—make revisiting Minimal music, with its aesthetic of working within limitations and hallmarks of repetition and drones, somehow timely as well.

The original lists were never meant to represent “the best” Minimal albums: they were ones that were rare and in some cases surpass, in my opinion, more widely available releases by the same artist and/or better known examples of the genre. Some were records that hadn’t been classified as Minimalist but warranted consideration through that lens. Likewise, the lists aren’t meant to be ranked within themselves, or in comparison to each other; the first record on any of the lists isn’t necessarily vastly preferable to the last, and this fourth list is not the bottom of the barrel, by any stretch. In some cases the present list has records I’ve discovered since 2007; others are records I’ve known for quite a while but haven’t included before for one reason or another. I’ve also made an addendum to selected entries on the first three lists, which have become fairly dated in terms of what is currently available by many of the artists, and to account for some of the significant archival releases in the 25 years since I first compiled them.

Unlike the mid-90s, most if not all of these records can be heard and/or purchased online, whether they’re up on YouTube or available for sale on Discogs. So finding them will be easier than before (although I haven’t included links to any of the titles as a small tribute to the legwork involved in tracking records down in olden tymes), but hopefully the spirit of sharing knowledge and passions that drove my previous efforts, forged in the pre-internet fanzine world, hasn’t been rendered totally redundant by the 24/7 onslaught of virtual note-comparing in social media.

1. Simeon ten Holt Canto Ostinato (various recordings): This was the most significant discovery for me in the last decade, a piece with over one hundred modules to be played on any instrument but mostly realized over the years with two to four pianos. I first encountered a YouTube live video of four pianists tackling it over the course of 90 minutes or so, then bought a double CD on Brilliant Classics from 2005, also for four pianos, that runs about 2 and half hours. The original 3LP recording on Donemus, from 1984, lasts close to 3 hours. It’s addictively listenable, very hypnotic in that pulsed, Steve Reich “Piano Phase”/”Six Pianos” kind of way, with lots of recurring themes (which differentiates it from Terry Riley’s “In C,” its most obvious structural antecedent). Composed over the span of the 70s, as with Roberto Cacciapaglia’s Sei Note in Logica, it’s an example of someone contemporaneously taking the ball from Reich or Riley and running with it. Every recording I’ve heard has been enjoyable, I’ve yet to pick a favorite.

2. David Borden Music for Amplified Keyboard Instruments (Red Music, 1981) 3. Mother Mallard’s Portable Masterpiece Co. Like a Duck to Water (Earthquack, 1976): These were some of my most cherished Minimal recordings when I was a teenager in the mid-80s, and are still not particularly well-known; they’re probably the biggest omission in the previous lists (at least from my perspective). Borden formed Mother Mallard, supposedly the first all-synthesizer ensemble, as a trio in the late 60s, although there’s electric piano on the records too. He went on to do music under his own name that hinged on the multi-keyboard Minimalism-meets-Renaissance classical concept he first explored with Mother Mallard, as exemplified by his 12-part series “The Continuing Story of Counterpoint” (a title inspired by both Philip Glass’ “Music in Twelve Parts” and the Beatles’ “The Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill”). I first heard Parts 6 & 9 of “Continuing Story” (from Music for Amplified Keyboard Instruments) on Tim Page’s 1980s afternoon radio show on WNYC, and bought the Mother Mallard LPs (Like A Duck is the second, the first is self-titled) from New Music Distribution Service soon after. I mail-ordered the Borden album from Wayside Music, which had cut-out copies, maybe a year later (c. 1986). I wasn’t much of a synth guy, but I loved the propulsive, rapid-fire counterpoint and fast-changing, lyrical melodies found on these records. “C-A-G-E Part 2,” which occupies side 2 of the Mother Mallard album and utilizes only those pitches, has to be a pinnacle of the Minimal genre. Interestingly, Borden claims to not really be able to “hear” harmony and composes each part of these (generally) three-part inventions individually, all the way through. The two-piano “Continuing Story of Counterpoint Part Two” on the 1985 album Anatidae is also beloved by me, and there was an archival Mother Mallard CD called Music by David Borden (Arbiter, 2003) that’s worth hearing.

4. Charles Curtis/Charles Curtis Trio: Ultra White Violet Light/Sleep (Beau Rivage, 1997): Full disclosure: Charles is a long-time friend, but this record seems forgotten and deserves another look, especially in light of the long-overdue 3CD survey of his performances of other composers’ material that Saltern released last year. This was a double album of four side-long tracks, conceived with the intent that two sides could be played simultaneously, in several different configurations; two of them are Charles solo on cello and sine tones, the others are with a trio and have spoken vocals and rock instrumentation, with cello and the sine tones also thrown into the mix. (I’ve never heard any of the sides combined, although now it would probably be easily achieved with digital mixing software.) The instrumental stuff is the closest you can come to hearing Charles’ beautiful arrangement of Terry Jennings’ legendary “Piece for Cello and Saxophone,” at least until his own recording of it sees the light of day; the same deeply felt cello playing against a sine tone drone. And it would be interesting to see what Slint fans thought of the trio material. Originally packaged in a nifty all-white uni-pak sleeve with a photo print pasted into the gatefold, it was reissued with a different cover on the now-defunct Squealer label on LP and CD but has disappeared since then. Stellar.

5. Arthur Russell Instrumentals 1974 Vol. 2 (Another Side/Crepuscule, 1984) 6. Peter Zummo Zummo with an X (Loris, 1985): Arthur Russell has posthumously developed a somewhat surprising indie rock audience, mostly for his unique songs and singing as well as his outré disco tracks. But he was also a modern classical composer, with serious Minimal cred—he’s on Jon Gibson’s Songs & Melodies 1973-1977 (see addendum), and played with Henry Flynt and Christer Hennix at one point; his indelible album of vocal and cello sparseness, World of Echo, was partially recorded at Phill Niblock’s loft and of course his Tower of Meaning LP was released on Glass’s Chatham Square label. He’s the one guy in the 70s and 80s (or after, for that matter) who connected the dots between Ali Akbar Khan, the Modern Lovers, Minimalism, and disco as different forms of trance music (taken together, both sides of his disco 12” “In the Light of the Miracle,” which total nearly a half-hour, could arguably be considered one of his Minimalist compositions). Recorded in 1977 & 1978, Instrumentals is an important signpost of the incipient Pop Minimalism impulse, and the first track is a pre-punk precursor to Rhys Chatham and Glenn Branca’s appropriations of the rock band format to pursue Minimal pathways (Chatham is one of the performers in that first piece). The rest, culled from a concert at the Kitchen, features long held tones from horns and strings and is quite graceful, if slightly undercut by Arthur’s own slightly jarring, apparently random edits. [Audika’s 2006 reissue, as part of the double CD First Thought Best Thought, includes a 1975 concert that was slated to be Instrumentals Vol. 1, which shows an even more specific pop/rock/Minimal intersection]. Zummo was a long-term collaborator of Russell’s and his album, which Arthur plays on, is a must for Russell aficionados. The first side is made up of short, plain pieces that repeat various simple intervals and are fairly hard-core Minimalism, but “Song IV,” which occupies all of side two, is like an extended, jammy take on Russell’s disco 12” “Treehouse” and has Bill Ruyle on bongos, who also played on Instrumentals as well as with Steve Reich and Jon Gibson. A recently unearthed concert at Roulette from 1985 is a further, and especially intriguing, example of Russell’s blending of Minimalism and song form. (That same year Arthur played on Elodie Lauten’s The Death of Don Juan--another record I first encountered via Tim Page’s radio show--which I included on Top Ten #3; Lauten as well as Zummo played on the Russell Roulette concert, as their website alleges).

7. Horacio Vaggione La Maquina de Cantar (Cramps, 1978): Another one-off from the late 70s, and yet more evidence of how Minimalism had really caught on as a trend among European composers of the time. Vaggione had a previous duo album with Eduardo Polonio under the name It called Viaje that was noisier electronics, and he went on to do computer music that was likewise more traditionally abstract. But on this sole effort for the Italian label Cramps, as part of their legendary Nova Musicha series, he went for full-on tonality. The title track is like the synth part of “Who Are You” extended for more than fifteen minutes and made a bit squishier; but side 2, “Ending”--already mentioned in the entry on David Rosenboom’s Brainwave Music in Top Ten #3--is my favorite. Kind of a bridge between Minimalism and prog, and a little reminiscent of David Borden’s multiple-synth counterpoint pieces, for the first ten minutes he lingers on one vaguely foreboding arpeggiated chord, then introduces a fanfare melody that repeats and builds in harmonies and countermelodies for the remainder of the piece. Great stuff, as Johnny Carson used to say.

8. Costin Miereanu Derives (Poly-Art, 1984): Miereanu is French composer coming out of musique concrete. Unlike some of the albums on these lists, both sides/pieces on Derives are superb, comprised of long drones with flurries of skittering electronic activity popping up here and there. Also notable is the presence of engineers Philip Besomes and Jean-Louis Rizet, responsible for Pôle, the great mid-70s prog double album that formed the basis of Graham Lambkin’s meta-meisterwork Amateur Doubles. I discovered this record via the old Continuo blog; Miereanu has lots of albums out, most of which I haven’t heard, but his 1975 debut Luna Cinese, another Cramps Nova Musicha item, is also estimable, although less Minimal.

9. Mikel Rouse Broken Consort Jade Tiger (Les Disques du Crepuscule, 1984): Rouse was a major New Music name in the 80s, as was Microscopic Septet saxist Philip Johnston, who plays here. Dominated by Reichian repeated fills that accentuate the odd time signatures as opposed to an underlying pulse, this will sound very familiar to anyone acquainted with Nik Bärtsch’s Ronin albums on ECM, which use the same general idea but brand it “zen funk” and cater more to the progressive jazz crowd rather than New Music fans, if we can be that anachronistic in our terminology. Jade Tiger also contrasts nicely with Wim Mertens’ more neo-Romantic contemporaneous excursions on Crepuscule. Rouse later performed the admirable (and daunting) task of cataloging Arthur Russell’s extensive tape archive for the preparation of Another Thought (Point Music, 1994)

10. Michael Nyman Decay Music (Obscure, 1976): Known for his soundtracks to Peter Greenaway films, and his still-peerless 1974 book Experimental Music: Cage and Beyond (where I, Jim O’Rourke, and doubtless many other intrepid teenage library goers learned of the Minimalists, Fluxus, AMM, and lots of other eternal avant heroes), Nyman is sometimes credited with coining the term “Minimal music” as well, in an early 70s article in The Spectator. Decay Music was produced by Brian Eno for his short-lived but wonderful Obscure label. The first side, “1-100,” was also composed for a Greenaway film, and has one hundred chords played one after another on piano, each advancing to the next once the sound has decayed from the previous chord (hence the album title). For all its delicacy and silences, you’re actually hearing three renditions superimposed on one another, which occasionally makes for some charming chordal collisions (reminiscent of the cheerfully clumsy, subversive “variations” of Pachelbel’s “Canon in D major” on Eno’s own Discreet Music, the most celebrated Obscure release). This is process music at its most fragile and incandescent. In hindsight it may have also been an unconscious influence on the structure of my piece “A New York Minute,” which lines up a month’s worth of weather reports from news radio, edited so that one day’s forecast follows its prediction from the previous day. I’ve never found the album’s other piece, “Bell Set No. 1,” to be quite as compelling, and Nyman’s other soundtrack work doesn’t hold much interest for me, but I’ve often returned to this album.

11. J Dilla Donuts (Stones Throw, 2006): One more for the road. Rightfully acclaimed as a masterpiece of instrumental hip hop, I have to confess I only discovered Donuts while reading Questlove’s 2013 book Mo’ Meta Blues, where he compared it to Terry Riley. The brevity of the tracks (31of ‘em in 44 minutes) and the lack of single-mindedness make categorizing Donuts as a Minimal album a bit of a stretch, but Questlove’s namecheck makes a whole lot of sense if you play “Don’t Cry” back to back with Riley’s proto-Plunderphonic “You’re Nogood,” and “Glazed” is the only hip hop track to ever remind me of Philip Glass. Plus the infinite-loop sequencing of the opening “Outro” and concluding “Intro” make this a statement of Eternal Music that outstrips La Monte Young and leaves any locked groove release in the proverbial dust. There isn’t the space here to really explore how extended mixes, all night disco DJ sets, etc. could be encountered in alignment with Minimalism, although I would steer the curious towards Pete Rock’s Petestrumentals (BBE, 2001), Larry Levan’s Live at the Paradise Garage (Strut, 2000), and, at the risk of being immodest, my own “The Old Victrola” from Plays Well (Crank Automotive, 2001). On a (somewhat) related note I’d also point out Rupie Edwards’ Ire Feelings Chapter and Version (Trojan, 1990) which collects 16 of the producer/performer’s 70s dub reggae tracks, all built from the exact same same rhythm track--mesmerizing, even by dub’s trippy standards.

Addendum:

Tony Conrad: “Maybe someday Tony’s blistering late 80s piece ‘Early Minimalism’ will be released, or his fabulous harmonium soundtrack to Piero Heliczer’s early 60s film The New Jerusalem.” That was the last line of my entry on Tony’s Outside the Dream Syndicate in the first Top Ten list in 1995, and sure enough, Table of the Elements issued “Early Minimalism” as a monumental CD box set in 1997 and released that soundtrack as Joan of Arc in 2006 (it’s the same film; I saw it screened c. 1990 under the name The New Jerusalem but it’s more commonly known as Joan of Arc). Tony releases proliferated in the last twenty years of his life, which was heartening to see; I’d particularly single out Ten Years Alive on the Infinite Plain (Superior Viaduct, 2017), which rescues a 1972 live recording of what is essentially a prototype for Outside played by Tony, Rhys Chatham, and Laurie Spiegel (Rhys has mentioned his initial disgruntlement upon hearing Outside, as it was the same piece that he had played with Tony, i.e. “Ten Years Alive,” but he found himself and Laurie replaced by Faust!) and an obscure compilation track, “DAGADAG for La Monte” (on Avanto 2006, Avanto, 2006), where he plays the pitches d, a, and g on violin, loops them over and over , and continually re-harmonizes them electronically--really one of his best pieces.

Terry Riley: The archival Riley CDs that Cortical Foundation issued in the 90s and early 00s don’t seem to be in print, but I feel they eclipse Reed Streams (reissued by Cortical as part of that series) and are crucial for fans of his early work, especially the live Poppy Nogood’s Phantom Band All Night Flight Vol. 1, an important variant on the studio take, and You’re Nogood (see Dilla entry above). These days I would also recommend Descending Moonshine Dervishes (Kuckuck, 1982/recorded 1975) over Persian Surgery Dervishes (Shandar, 1975), which I mentioned in the original entry on Reed Streams in the first Top Ten; a lot of the harmonic material in Descending can also be heard in Terry’s dream-team 1975 meeting with Don Cherry in Köln, which has been bootlegged several times in the last few years. Finally, Steffen Schleiermacher recorded the elusive “Keyboard Study #1” (as well as “#2,” which had already seen release in a version by Germ on the BYG label and as “Untitled Organ” on Reed Streams), albeit on a programmed electronic keyboard, on the CD Keyboard Studies (MDG, 2002). As you might expect it’s a little synthetic-sounding, but it also has a weird kinetic edge (imagine the “Baba O’Riley” intro being played on a Conlon Nancarrow player piano) that’s lacking in later acoustic piano renditions recorded by Gregor Schwellenbach and Fabrizio Ottaviucci. But any of these versions is rewarding for those interested in Riley’s early output.

Henry Flynt, Charlemagne Palestine: A few of the artists on that first Top Ten list went from being sorely under-documented to having a plethora of material on the market, and Henry and Charlemagne are at the top of the heap. I stand by You Are My Everlovin, finally reissued on CD by Recorded in 2001, as Henry’s peak achievement, but I’m also partial to “Glissando,” a tense, feverish raga drone from 1979 that Recorded put out on the Glissando No. 1 CD in 2011. Charlemagne’s Four Manifestations On Six Elements double album still holds up well, as does an album of material initially recorded for it, Arpeggiated Bösendorfer and Falsetto Voice (Algha Marghen, 2017). The Strumming Music LP on Shandar is a definitive performance, and best heard as an unbroken piece on the New Tone CD reissue from 1995. Godbear (CD on Barooni, vinyl on Black Truffle), originally recorded for Glenn Branca’s Neutral label (which had also scheduled a Phill Niblock release before going belly-up), has 1987 takes of “Strumming Music” and two other massive pieces that date from the late 70s, “Timbral Assault” and “The Lower Depths”; Algha Marghen released a vintage full-length concert of the latter as a triple CD.

Steve Reich: Not a particularly rare record, but his “Variations on Winds, Strings and Keyboards,” a 1979 piece for orchestra on a 1984 LP issued by Phillips (paired with an orchestral arrangement of John Adams’ “Shaker Loops”), is often overlooked among the works from his “golden era” and I’d frankly rate it as his best orchestral piece.

Phill Niblock, Eliane Radigue: As with Henry and Charlemagne, after a slow start as “recording artists” loads of CDs by these two have appeared over the last twenty years. Phill and Eliane’s music was never best served by the vinyl format anyway—you won’t find a lackluster release by either composer, go to it.

Jon Gibson: I called “Cycles,” from Gibson’s Two Solo Pieces, “one of the ultimate organ drones on record” in the first Top Ten list, and it remains so, but Phill Niblock’s”Unmounted/Muted Noun” from 2019′s Music for Organ ought to sit right beside it. Meanwhile, Superior Viaduct’s recent Gibson double album Songs & Melodies 1973-1977 collects some great pieces from the same era as Two Solo Pieces, with players including Arthur Russell, Peter Zummo, Barbara Benary, and Julius Eastman.

John Stevens: In Top Ten #2 I mentioned John Stevens’ presence on the first side of John Lennon & Yoko Ono’s Life With the Lions; the Stevens-led Spontaneous Music Orchestra’s For You To Share (1973) documents his performance pieces “Sustained Piece” and “If You Want to See A Vision,” where musicians and vocalists sustain tones until they run out of breath and then begin again, which result in a highly meditative and organic drone/sound environment. In my early 00′s Digger Choir performances at Issue Project Room we did “Sustained Piece,” and Stevens’ work was a big influence on conceptualizing those concerts, where the only performers were the audience themselves. The CD reissue on Emanem from 1998 added “Peace Music,” an unreleased studio half-hour studio cut with a similar Gagaku--meets--free/modal jazz vibe. I also mentioned “Sustained Piece” in my liner notes to Natural Information Society’s Mandatory Reality too, if that helps as a point of reference.

Anthony Moore: Back in ’97 I wondered “How and why Polydor was convinced to release these albums [Pieces from the Cloudland Ballroom and Scenes from the Blue Bag] is beyond me (anyone know the story)?” That mystery was ultimately solved by Benjamin Piekut in his fascinating-even-if-you-never-listen-to-these-guys book Henry Cow: The World is A Problem (Duke University Press, 2019)—it turns out it was all Deutsche Gramophone’s idea!

Terry Jennings, Maryanne Amacher, Julius Eastman--“Three Great Minimalists With No Commercially Available Recordings” (sidebar from Minimal Top Ten list #2): Happily this no longer applies to these three, although Terry and Maryanne are still under-represented. One archival recording of Jennings and Charlotte Moorman playing a short version of “Piece for Cello and Saxophone” appeared on Moorman’s 2006 Cello Anthology CD box set on Alga Marghen, and he’s on “Terry’s Cha Cha” on that 2004 John Cale New York in the 60s Table of the Elements box too. John Tilbury recorded five of his piano pieces on Lost Daylight (Another Timbre, 2010) and Charles Curtis’ version of “Song” appears on the aforementioned Performances and Recordings 1998-2018 triple CD.

Whether or not Maryanne should really be considered a Minimalist (or a sound artist, for that matter) is, I guess, debatable, but I primarily see her as the unqualified genius of the generation of composers who emerged in the post-Cage era, and the classifications ultimately don’t matter—remember she was on those Swarm of Drones/ Throne of Drones/ Storm of Drones ambient techno comps in the 90s, and I’d call her music Gothic Industrial if it would get more people to check it out (and that might be fun to try, come to think of it). She made a belated debut with the release of the Sound Characters CD on Tzadik in 1998, an event I found significant enough to warrant pitching an interview with her to the WIRE, who agreed—it was my first piece for them. Her music was/is best experienced live (the Amacher concert I saw at the Performing Garage in 1993 is still, almost three decades later, the greatest concert I’ve ever witnessed) but that Tzadik CD is reasonably representative, and there was a sequel CD on Tzadik in 2008. More recently Blank Forms issued a live recording of her two-piano piece “Petra” (a concert I also attended, realizing when I got there that it was in the same Chelsea church where Connie Burg, Melissa Weaver and I recorded with Keiji Haino for the Gerry Miles with Keiji Haino CD). While it’s somewhat anomalous in Amacher’s canon, making a piece for acoustic instruments available for home consumption would doubtless have been more palatable to the composer herself, who rightly felt that CDs and LPs didn’t do justice to the extraordinary psychoacoustic phenomena intrinsic to her electronic music. “Petra” is more reminiscent of Morton Feldman than anything else, with a few passages that could be deemed “minimal.” Some joker posted a 26-minute, ancient lo-fi “bootleg” (their term) recording of her “Living Sound, Patent Pending” piece from her Music for Sound-Joined Rooms installation/performance series on SoundCloud, which is a little like looking at a Xerox of a Xerox of a photo of the Taj Mahal; but you can still visit the Taj Mahal more easily than hearing this or any of Maryanne’s work in concert or in situ, so sadly, it’s better than nothing (and longer than the 7 minute edit of the piece on the Ohm: Early Gurus of Electronic Music CD from 2000).

A few years after Top Ten #2 I was on the phone with an acquaintance at New World Records, who told me he was listening to a Julius Eastman tape that they were releasing as part of a 3CD set. Say what?!?!? Unjust Malaise appeared shortly thereafter and was a revelation. Arnold Dreyblatt had sent me a live tape some time before then of an Eastman piece labeled “Gangrila”—that turned out to be “Gay Guerrilla,” and is surely one of my five favorite pieces of music in existence (the tape Arnold sent was from the 1980 Kitchen European tour and I consider it to be a more moving performance than the Chicago concert that appears on the CD, although it’s an inferior recording). The other multiple piano pieces on Unjust Malaise more than lived up to the descriptions of Eastman performances that I’d read. The somewhat berserk piano concert I mentioned in that entry seems similar to another live tape issued as The Zurich Concert (New World, 2017), and “Femenine,” a piece performed by the S.E.M. Ensemble, came out on Frozen Reeds in 2016. Eastman’s rediscovery is among the most vital and gratifying developments of recent music history--kudos must be given to Mary Jane Leach, herself a Minimalist composer, for diligently and doggedly tracking down Eastman’s recordings and archival materials and bringing them to the light of day.

The Lost Jockey—I was unaware of any releases by this group besides their Crepuscule LP until I stumbled onto a self-titled cassette from 1983 on YouTube. Like the album, the highlight is a piece by Orlando Gaugh--an all-time great Philip Glass rip-off, “Buzz Buzz Buzz Went the Honeybee,” which has the amusing added bonus of having the singers intoning the rather bizarre title phrase as opposed to Glassian solfège. Also like the album, he rest of the cassette is so-so Pop Minimalism.

Earth: Dylan Carlson keeps on keepin’ on, and while I can’t say I’ve kept up with him every step of the way, usually when I check in I’m glad I did. However I’d like to take this opportunity to humbly disavow the snarky comments about Sunn 0))) I made in this entry in Top Ten list #3. Those were a reflection of my general aversion to hype, which was surrounding them at the time, and of seeing two shows that in retrospect were unrepresentative (I was thunderstruck by a later show I saw in Mexico City in 2009). Stephen O’Malley has proven to be as genuinely curious, dedicated and passionate about drone and other experimental music as they come, and the reissue of the mind-blowing Sacred Flute Music from New Guinea on his Ideologic Organ label is a good reminder of how rooted Minimalism is in ethnic music, and how almost interchangeable certain examples of both can be.

And while we’re in revisionist mode, let’s go full circle all the way back to the very first sentence of the introduction to the first Minimal Top Ten: “I know what you’re thinking: ECM Records, New Age, Eno ambients, NPR, Tangerine Dream. Well forget all that shit.” Hey, that stuff’s not so bad! I was probably directing that more at the experimental-phobic indie rock folks I encountered at the time, and expressing a lingering resentment towards the genre-confusion of the 80s (i.e. having dig through a bunch of Kitaro records in the New Age bins in hopes of finding Reich, Riley, or Glass; even Loren Mazzacane got tagged New Age once in a while back then, believe it or not), which probably hindered my own discovery of Minimalism. What can I say, I’m over it!

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racefortheironthrone · 6 years ago

Text

Thoughts on Powers of X #3

Gotta go fast!

Pride and Grace (X^2):

This issue starts off on a pretty heavy note with a look at the religion of humans in the Man-Machine Ascendancy, and what we see is that humanity has constructed a religion around transhumanism and it’s entirely negative.

So here is the catechism of this religion:

“All humans are slaves,” and humans should “accept [the machines]] dominance.”

Human nature is inherently “fallen,” and in order to ascend humans must reject “every last shred” of their humanity.

Critically, humans must reject the “heretics” who preach biological transhumanism, both becasue of the inherent impossibility of “improv[ing] on our flawed design” and their mistaken belief in free will.

And then just in case you were wondering whether Hickman was going to be at all subtle in his belief that mechanical transhumanism is bad, he then shows us a baby being baptised into this faith by having half its face lasered off as it screams in pain.

On a more high-falutin’ level, the purple-clad cyborg priest’s concluding thought that “there is something perfect trapped in your flawed human shell” is Gnosticism turned against itself, from a religion that preached an egalitarian message of salvation through transcendant knowledge into a religion that denies the very possibility. It’s also not a good sign that the priest inverts Milton’s most famous epigram on individualistic defiance into a message of submission.

I find it very odd that so much of the fandom can read these pages and then turn around and call Krakoan culture a cult. As I’ll get into longer, Krakoan culture is all about proving and celebrating individuality as well as community, about rejoicing in the defeat of death, and the multiple layers of call-and-response rest power in the congregation as much as the preacher. If I had to choose between these two religions, I’d pick Krakoa every time.

And then the mutant resistance shows up bringing fire and the sword(s). And yet, in what is surprising for a group of mutants organized and led by Apocalypse, their tone is more disappointed than hostile. More on this in a bit.

Surviving Sol Mutants Infographic:

In this org chart, we learn about the mutant resistance as led by Apocalypse. Some interesting little details here:

Apocalypse has a new group of horsemen (we don’t learn that the first horsemen who Hickman has been emphasizing so much died during the fall of Krakoa until later), with Logan in the War role, Kuan-Yin Xorn as Death, North as Pestilence, and Krakoa/Cypher as Famine.

This group includes “Pureblood” (not wild about this label) mutants, Chimeras, and “Symbiotic” mutants, which covers pretty much every kind of mutant in this timeline in the same way that the All-New X-Men were designed to be internationally diverse.

While some of these designations - War for Wolverine and Death for the nihilist Xorn - make sense, there’s something really ironic about the plant-man representing Famine, and there doesn’t seem to be much of a clear link between North and the concept of Pestilence.

North as a second generation Lorna Dane/Emma Frost hybrid became a fan favorite despite uttering very few words, I guess because of the interesting combination of Magneto’s costume in Polaris’ colors and pink telepathy powers.

For her part, Moira stands in as “Mother” of the younger mutant team (which I guess makes Apocalypse the “Father” of the older team), making this resistance cell a Brady-style fused/found family.

I was wrong about which generations Rasputin and Cardinal belong to: despite the fact that Rasputin is named Rasputin IV, both she and Cardinal are third generation Chimeras. Cardinal’s powerset seems to include Nightcrawler-style teleportation as well as Jean/Rachel/Nate-style telepathy. No idea who Freeman corresponds to, but no one else seems to know either.

The Church, the Church is On Fire!:

On the other side of town, the Machine half of the Ascendancy reacts to the distraction attack. Omega Sentinel both seems to care more about humanity and be more human both in terms of her interests and her affect, while noted sociopath Nimrod the Lesser advocates for human genocide, just in case you were wondering who the bad guys were.

A further sign that we shouldn’t let our pre-existing knowledge color our interpretation is that we find out that the mutant resistance “have always sought to free the humans in some hope that together they might overcome the inevitability of” Nimrod. Needless to say, fighting to save “a world that hates and fears them” hasn’t exactly been Apocalypse’s wheelhouse, but it’s a sign that existential struggle changes all kinds of people’s characters in unexpected ways.

I really like the idea that mutants and humans are two peoples “divided by one language,” because it’s an interesting counter-point to Magneto’s argument in House of X #1 that a mutant language is a necessary precondition for cultural separation.

Further evidence for my thesis about AIs and analysis paralysis: Nimrod the Lesser’s obsession with trying to “disassemble the variables” and his total lack of interest in more qualitative understandings of his opposition leads him to delay just long enough to allow the resistance to get away with their data and unleash a singularity in his capital. Can’t help but see a parallel there with the Phalanx and other intelligences.

We move from there to a Highly Thematically Significant ecumenical debate between the cyborg purple priest and Cardinal, who describes himself as “a pacifist who’s been pushed to the brink” (much like Xavier?) and in the process has abandoned many of his own beliefs, even “overcome my genetic predispositions” for a higher purpose. (Which itself is thematically significant, given that the cyborg purple priest explicitly denied that one could avoid genetic destiny.) Cardinal wants to know why the priest would betray humanity on behalf of a malevolent divinity, but it’s not clear whether his own form of self-destruction is much different (although given that Cardinals deny the self, did the “terminal apocalypse seed” destroy his authentic self or create one?).

For his part, the cyborg priest chooses veneration of the Great Machine above all else, seemingly dying in a state of religious ecstasy. There’s also another interesting contrast being drawn here - after Magneto positioned the mutants as pagan “gods,” we have a decidedly monotheistic capital-G “god” in the form of Omega Sentinel.

Buying Time/Space:

As his X-Men prepare to go down swinging to buy him enough time, Apocalypse and his strike team make it to the data-base. I know that Hickman is usually described as more of a world-builder than dialogue wrioter, but I loved the line “I am older than even the idea of machines.” (Not so sure that’s true, Ancient Egypt loved itself some simple machines, but he could be referring more specifically to the computer.)

We also learn that the data they’re looking for is “when Nimrod came online,” which initially sounds unimportant...up until we see Moira and realize that historical data is priceless when you’re dealing with time-loopers.

Nimrod is alerted by Cypher/Krakoa’s accessing of the data, but it’s worth noting that Nimrod doesn’t know what they’re looking for. He’ll describe it as “old data and machine lore,” but he clearly can’t recall and hasn’t integrated the data that’s been acquired into his own mental framework - which raises the question of whether the Phalanx or higher ups do any better with the data they’ve consumed.

In the mean-time, Rasputin and Xorn unleash his singularity in order to sideline Omega Sentinel and buy their cause a little more time. There’s an interesting parallel with what Erasmus will do in House of X #3, but the singularity adds another level.

Omega’s question “do you have any idea of what lies at the heart of a real black hole” is even more ambiguous in the wake of Powers of X #5, where we learn that there are massive AI societies inside black holes. Is the Man-Machine Ascendancy a vassal of one of these, has Omega seen one? Or is she referring to a more abstract idea about the ultimate death of all things? (Watching A Brief History of Time messed me up as a kid.)

But just as the X-Men of X^1 underestimate the self-sacrificial tenacity of Orchis humans, Omega underestimates that of the X-Men and so a singularity is unleashed on Earth. Does this destroy the planet, in the same way that the singularity of the 4th Generation Chimeras wiped out Mars? Do Rasputin, Xorn, or Cardinal end up in another time/place as the tarot cards from Powers of X #1 would suggest? Is their desination one of the Titan Societies?

In a parallel act, Apocalypse sacrifices himself to get the data away. Even as Nimrod is giving his big speech about how Apocalypse is no longer the “fittest of all,” we see how the Big A has clearly moved beyond that conception of himself, to embrace a larger cause he’s willing to die for.

As Aocalypse is dying, Wolverine awakens Moira in her ninth life and kills her so that she can bring the data about Nimrod into her tenth life. Which is one main reason why I’m really skeptical we’ll see a reboot into an 11th life at the end of the mini-series, because otherwise why devote half or more of your run-time to what she’s learned in this life if the next one is the really important one?

Infographic of the Ninth Life of Moira X:

I just realized that Moira’s last name works as both a play on the Nation of Islam’s tradition of giving out X as a new last name symbolic of the heritage destroyed by slavery (although the X-gene probably gives that a different symbolism for Krakoan mutants), and the number 10. Yes, I can be really short-sighted sometimes.

So what new information do we get about Life 9?

Well, the Apocalypse War goes well for mutants for fourteen years, with Avengers World defeated three years later, and the Annihilation Wave repelled eleven years later. Crucially, however, Apocalypse is unable to prevent Nimrod from coming online in Year 50, and within six years the mutants lose most of their earthly power, forcing a retreat to Krakoa and the adoption of Sinister’s breeding program. This buys the mutants about thirty years, but Krakoa’s fall in advance of the collapse of Mars suggestsa that it was never more than a band-aid.

Note that once again Moira goes into a coma. Man, by this point, she and Emma are going to have plenty to talk about wrt to their Sleeping Beauty syndromes.

#xmen #xmen meta #powers of x #hoxpox

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