#Movie Poster Mock Up

[dat2ndaccount97]

If I told you this was a concept poster for a cancelled early 90s Live Action Barbie Movie, would you believe me?

[goodphantomoftheoperaposts]

Me this morning: Boy oh boy! I can't wait to get started on the cover art for my Phantom retelling! Maybe I'll even get it done by tonight!

My progress 8 hours later:

[totalrandomcrap]

[ickadori]

++ 𝐘𝐔𝐉𝐈/𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

[summary] during a playful fight between you and yuji, sukuna decides to make an appearance and air out yuji’s dirty secrets.

[cws] fem reader. dubcon. lewd use of sukuna’s tummy mouth. exhibitionism -> you’re in public but no one is around. one mention of a misogynist comment from sukuna. yuji thinks about you a lot. unedited.

“Do you …hah, do you give up yet?” Yuji pants as he has you pinned underneath him, sweat dripping off the ends of his hair and landing on your forehead.

You’d cringe and shrink away if you weren’t so determined to win this mock fight (never mind that you were drenched in your own sweat, as well).

“Absolutely not.” You grit out, hips futilely bucking up to try and get him off you. He barely budges, even having the nerve to laugh as he watches you struggle. You can hear Nobara booing quite enthusiastically, while Megumi grumbles about being late for class and having to hear ‘Gojo’s annoying mouth’.

“Ya know you’re not gonna win, so just give up already and agree to hosting movie night in my dorm this time!”

“Never! No one wants to stare at pin-up posters all night, plus your tv is too small, and your bed always smells like Doritos, and—”

“Geez, just say you hate me, why don’t you.” He rolls his eyes, going to sit back on his haunches as he stays straddling your waist. You kiss at your teeth, trying once more to buck him up while simultaneously bringing your hands up and shoving at his stomach. “And my bed does not smell like Doritos! Does it?” He snaps his head over to look at Nobara and Megumi.

“The cool ranch ones.” Nobara says, and Megumi nods in agreement. “Aka, the nastiest flavor.” Yuji gasps dramatically.

“That’s the best flavor! How dare you…” As he bickers back and forth with Nobara, you focus a little cursed energy into your hands. “…says the girl who eats pickles with whipped cream like she’s pregnant or someth—!”

In the blink of an eye you’ve got Yuji on his back as you straddle his stomach, a triumphant grin on your face as you keep your hands on his shoulders to keep him pinned flat against the ground. “Aha!”

“That’s cheating!” Yuji frowns up at you.

“No, it isn’t! It’s called strategizing.”

“Cheating!”

“I’m going to class.” Megumi begins to walk off, hands stuffed in his pockets, and you shout after him.

“Movie night is in my dorm!”

“Hey!” Yuji interrupts.

“Bring good snacks only!” You finish, and then Nobara is the next to go, jogging to catch up with Megumi as she flashes the both of you an amused grin.

“Cheater.” Yuji grumbles once it’s just you two, and you snicker as you let go of his shoulders and sit up, not bothering to stand up just yet. “Using cursed energy against your friend… you should be ashamed.”

“You literally threw a spear at me yesterday and it almost killed me.”

“That’s different! We were training, and I didn’t mean to throw it that hard.” His expression turned sheepish as he avoided your eyes, and you pursed your lips as you tapped his nose with the pad of your index finger. He wriggled it in response, and you softly laughed as you did it again.

“It’s fine, just know that you had it coming when I try to kill you in the future, mkay?” He blinks up at you.

“You’re creepy, you know that?”

“Says the boy with a third eyeball on his cheek.” This time you do cringe, watching as the red eye blinks open before settling on you.

“Wha—Sukuna!” Yuji snaps, hand moving to slap over the eye and cover it. “You should probably go now before he fully wakes up … you know how he is.” A pink hue bleeds into Yuji’s cheeks as he averts his eyes, and you feel your own face warm as you nod.

“Yeah,” you agree. Sukuna had always been insufferable from the moment you befriended Yuji, always piping up with mean, critiquing comments that bordered on being cruel. The comments had started with him bashing your fighting skills during your trainings with Yuji, quips of ‘you’re so slow - it’s a wonder you aren’t dead yet’, or ‘women on the battlefield is a bad fucking joke - hasn’t anyone ever taught you your place’, or ones that had left you teary-eyed and which you refuse to repeat.

Yeah, Sukuna was an asshole, which wasn’t a surprise to anyone, and you’d rather not have your day ruined before you even made it to your first class.

“I’ll see you tonight, Yuji.” You place your hands on his chest, about to use him to push yourself up to your feet, but a low, raspy voice has you stopping in your tracks.

“You’re sitting on my mouth.” Sukuna abruptly says, and you blink in confusion, your eyes flitting between Yuji’s and where you’re sitting.

“What?”

“Y-You should go now,” Yuji tries, but Sukuna is talking again and drowning him out.

“Your pussy, that hot thing between your legs, it’s on my mouth. See?” Something moves underneath you, and you flinch at the sound of fabric tearing before a yelp is leaving your mouth when something thick, damp and warm is pushing up between your legs and pressing against your clothed cunt. “You should be careful where you put that thing, y’know.”

He talks through the mouth on Yuji’s hand, and your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt as Sukuna swipes his tongue against you again, his saliva wetting the fabric of your underwear.

“Sukuna, st—”

“Sit back and shut up.” Yuji falls silent in an instant, and a wave of panic washes over you when you see his eyes gloss over and his head fall back against the grass, black markings etching their way onto his face. A grin stretches across his face, and hands move to lock around your hips, fingers pushing into your flesh as he makes sure you can’t go anywhere. “That’s better.”

“Y-Yuji?” You sound breathless, and you gasp when his tongue worms its way past your panties to swipe in-between your folds. “Yuji!”

“Relax,” he rolls his eyes, “the brat is still here. Watching and listening, he’s not gonna miss a thing, don’t you worry.” You don’t know if that’s worse or better—Yuji being aware of what’s happening, being able to see your face contort each time that tongue flicks at your clit, being able to hear the noises you try and fail to subdue.

“Stop,” your voice sounds weak to your own ears, and Sukuna guffaws, tongue forcing its way up into your cunt, the action eliciting a lewd squelch as he rubs against your walls.

“Stop.” He parrots back at you, hands tightening around your hips, and you duck your head down when his tongue leaves your hole to instead focus its attention back on your clit. “I don’t know what the brat gets all worked up about—yeah, you’ve got a sweet pussy and a nice pair of tits, but you’re a real fuckin’ tease. Rolling around with a boy in that flimsy little skirt and grinding your cunt up against him. Tch.”

“I wasn—Sukuna!” You jump when his teeth graze against your folds, the thought of him possibly biting you making a shiver of fear run up your spine.

“He wants to fuck you.” He couples the reveal with a harsh suck. “Fuck this cunt that I’m tonguing down - the pervert can’t go five minutes in a room with you without thinking about it.” Your ears burn as a fresh wave of slick rushes out of you, thighs trembling where they rest around his thick waist. “He’s too worried about scaring you off to do anything about it, though… but I don’t think he has anything to worry about, does he? Look at you.”

A whimper leaves your mouth, and you quickly sink your teeth into your bottom lip, not succeeding in blocking out the slurping, tacky sounds coming from between your legs. You want to stand up, get his mouth away from you so you can think straight, because your mind is all jumbled and fuzzy and screwy, and his words, his crude words that always made your skin hot and your stomach churn, is making it churn for another reason now.

“Won’t you give him a show, hm?” You barely register his words, and you yelp when his hand makes contact with your ass, fingers kneading at the doughy flesh as he repeats his earlier words. “Take your tits out.”

“No,” you warble, your hands weakly pushing at his wrists, a poor attempt to get him to stop moving your hips back and forth, forcing your cunt to side back and forth over his flattened tongue. “Sukuna, please.”

“Take ‘em out yourself, or I’ll do it for you and leave you to walk back to your dorm with nothing on.” You hesitate, eyes wet as you nervously lick at your lips, and when he makes a move for your shirt, you quickly begin to undo the buttons, fingers clumsy as they fumble repeatedly. “Good pet.”

Your blouse falls open as you undo the last button, revealing the pink bra you have on underneath, and you squeeze your eyes shut as you pull the cups of your bras down, fully exposing yourself Sukuna’s eyes .. and Yuji’s, too oh God.

The reminder that Yuji can see everything that’s happening sends a fleet of butterflies to your stomach, and you kick yourself mentally when you find yourself jutting out your chest just a bit. Does he like them, the thoughts zips through your mind, and you don’t have time to question where the hell it came from before hands are roughly squeezing at them, calloused fingers pinching and twisting at your nipples.

“Are they as good as you imagined, kid? Cause you imagine them a lot.” Sukuna smirks, and then he’s snapping his eyes up to yours. “You wanna know what he thinks about doing to them?” His tongue lazily laps at your folds, occasionally parting them to venture down to your clenching hole and take a dip inside before repeating the process.

Sukuna doesn’t wait for your answer.

“He thinks about putting his cock between them, pushing them together so it’s nice and tight and fucking them.” He demonstrates, hands pushing your breasts together, and you can’t help but watch his hands as they grope and fondle you. “Thinks about how they’d bounce when he’s got you riding his cock.” His hands leave your breasts to instead grip your hips, and you gasp when easily lifts you, just to drop you back down onto his tongue, the appendage sliding into your cunt and reaching deep.

“Sukuna!”

He continues to lift you up and down, forcing you to ride his tongue, and his eyes stay locked on your bouncing breasts, lips still fixed in that same smirk. “You gonna come?” You feel as if his words are directed at more than just you. He moves you faster, nails biting into your skin, and your face contorts into one of bliss as you hold onto his wrists as tight as you can, eyes fluttering shut as your pussy clamps down.

He pulls you down for the final time, mouth latched onto your cunt as you come, greedy gulps and sucks sounding as he swallows down your slick, his hands moving from your hips to your back. He roughly pulls you towards his face, and a whimper-y moan forces itself out of you as his lips wrap around a stiff nipple, teeth sinking in before he’s soothing the sting away with his tongue.

You sag against him, ragged breaths disturbing tufts of pink hair, and the aggressive sucking on your breast morphs into softer, gentler sucks, the nails that had been scratching at your back replaced with gentle caresses, and the tongue and mouth that had been abusing your now puffy and sore cunt is gone.

“Yuji.” You sigh, and he hums around you before his whole body goes stiff, tongue pausing its gentle swipe against your nipple, and hands slowly moving away from you. The heat against your chest is sweltering, and you push yourself up on shaky arms, tiredly blinking down at his red face.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t know he would do that or say those things! I-I don’t even know why he said all those things, I don’t think about you like that, I swear!” He goes off into a tangent, eyes darting between your face and your breasts, and you sigh again before leaning back down to push your lips against his.

The kiss is chaste and quick, and when you pull back your face is as hot as his, and you become acutely aware of your state of dress, hands fumbling to fix your bra and redo your shirt as you avert your gaze.

“What was that for?”

“You… you wouldn’t stop talking.” You defend as you fix the last button, and then you’re struggling to your feet before Yuji finally frees himself from his stupor and helps you. He pulls away from you and takes a few steps back, the both of you staring at each other in silence for a bit, and your eyes widen when you see his shirt has been ripped away around the stomach, the skin there wet from you and his happy trail glistening with your juices.

“I-”

“You-”

“Sorry, you go.” You both interrupt each other again.

“He-”

“We-”

You heave out a breath as he groans, and when he goes to say something else to wave your hands back and forth, stopping him short. “Let’s never talk about this again.”

“Oh… okay! Yeah! Okay! Lips are sealed.” He motions to lock his lips and throw away the key, and you can’t help but smile just a bit.

“Okay.” You nod, hands twisting together, and there’s another uncomfortable silence before he speaks up again.

“I can, um, walk you to class?”

“Oka—oh, your shirt.” You gesture to his ruined uniform, and he looks down as his eyebrows raise.

“How’d that happen—oh, yeah.” He looks at you, and you roll your lips into your mouth. “I guess I should change then.” You nod. “I’ll see you tonight then, right? For movie night?” Could you really sit through a movie with him after what Sukuna just did, after what he told you? An ache starts as you recall what he had revealed to you, and your eyes meet Yuji’s as you nod again.

“Yeah. Tonight.”

[cowbell-ghuleh]

IDK why I drew this it seemed like a good idea at the time XD

On my mock movie poster thing again. Going for B movie slasher vibes. And I wanted to do another limited colour picture.

Close ups below the cut.

[reidsdimples]

Boyfriend Boy Genius

Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Gf!Reader

Just fluff 🧸

“Spence!” You giggle and lace your fingers behind his neck.

He lifts you up under your butt and swings you around.

“I missed you, angel,” he leans in and nuzzles your nose with an Eskimo kiss which just makes you giggle harder.

“I missed you more,” you smile when he places you down.

“How’d the consult go on the Washington case?” He asks you.

“Good, I heard Seattle got messy,” you frown as you lean against his desk.

“Yeah but we got him. Streets are 3.89% safer now,” he smiles.

“That can’t be accurate,” you roll your eyes.

“Actually it is, I based it on the population, the known crime trends for the past decade, as well as known active serial killers in the Pacific Northwest. The Uptown Stabber’s body count and time between kills earned him a significant percentage of the cities crime rate this year and…” he drops into his seat. “I’m rambling…”

“Go on,” you smirk and nudge his converse with the white tip of your own.

“I got you something,” he clutches his shoulder bag nervously.

You tug on it but he holds it in place, his chair sliding a little closer.

“Hands off,” Hotch says somewhere behind you. Both of you instinctively back up.

The team knew about you two, obviously. It just couldn’t be flaunted it work. It had to stay professional.

“What is ittttt?” You whine and pout your lip at your boyfriend.

He whips out a 8x10 print in a sleeve which you’re unsure of at first. Then he turns it to show you.

“No you didn’t!” You gasp.

He had gotten a signed mini poster from the last Twilight movie with all of the main casts signatures. It even had a certificate of authenticity.

“Made the special trip! The lady had it signed by the cast when she worked as an extra,” he beamed.

“I could kiss you right now! You know that?” You stamp your feet and hug the picture to your chest.

“I know you lost a bid on one and she put this up for auction at one of the little shops in Forks,” he pulls off his shoulder bag and finally gets comfortable in his chair.

“You’re the best baby,” you lean down to kiss him.

“Uh, ew,” Morgan mocks and stops you two before your lips meet. “Don’t make me get Hotch.”

“I dare you, what’s up?” You laugh.

“I need the file on Rayburn,” he informs.

“One sec,” you return to your desk.

“Twilight? Really?” Morgan tsks.

“Oh shut up!” You shove him his folder.

—

“Dinner,” you assert.

“Just dinner,” he echoes. He kisses you again and you lead him to your front door.

Spencer is nearly drunk on your presence, on your scent. He half stumbles as he walks too fast for your short strides. He trips over his two feet and accidentally kicks the back of your shoe.

“Maybe sleep too?” He asks.

“Yes baby, I know you had a long flight today. What are you in the mood for? Pizza? I’m not cooking.”

“Pizzas good,” he sits on your couch and picks up the book you’re reading.

“Uh!” You snatch it. “Not for you.”

“Angel?” He stands. “Are you reading smut to keep yourself occupied while I’m away?” He takes your face between his hands and kisses you sweetly.

“You wish,” you slap his chest and turn from him.

He gathers you by your hips and wrestles you under him onto the couch. You’re giggling so hard that tears well up in your eyes. His messy hair falls over his forehead and he’s giddy at the sound of your laughter.

When you stop he buries his face in your neck to kiss you before tickling you once you’re lured into a false sense of security.

“Spencer!” You shout and thrash beneath him.

“Say my name again,” he pauses tickling you.

“No,” you turn your head from him and pout.

“I love it though,” he tickles you again until you snort.

You’re snorts spurn on more laughter between the two of you and everything is perfect because he’s back.

“Fine fine! Spencer,” you laugh uncontrollably. He stops tickling you and kisses you. “Spencer,” you whisper.

He nuzzles into your neck and sighs.

“Spencer, Spencer, Spencer,” you whisper and rub his back gently. He hums against your neck, enjoying the sensation.

You could stay like this with him forever- entangled in each other, the sound of his breathing mixed with yours, your fingers in his soft hair and rubbing his back. It’s perfect.

“Hopefully Hotch lets us go on the next case together,” you muse longingly.

He adjusts his hips between your legs and kisses you softly with a moan that matches your own.

“Hopefully,” he smirks and kisses your nose as his hands grip your hips.

[wilwheaton]

When you watch The Curse, you are watching two children who were abused and exploited daily during production. No adults protected us.

This was originally published on my blog in August, 2022.

I had a wonderful time at Steel City Comicon this weekend. It was my first time at this particular con, so I didn’t know there was such a huge contingent of horror fans, creators, and vendors who attend.

I love horror, and I was pretty psyched to be in the same place as John Carpenter and Tom Savini, across the street from the Dawn of the Dead mall. Pittsburgh feels like one of the places horror was invented, at least to me.

A number of these horror fans came to see me, and asked me to sign posters and other things from a movie my parents forced me to do when I was 13, called The Curse. I had to tell each of these people that I would not sign anything associated with that movie, because I was abused and exploited during production. The time I spent on that film remains the most traumatizing time of my life, and though I am a 50 year-old man, just typing this now makes my hands shake with remembered fear of a 13 year-old boy who nobody protected, and the absolute fury the 50 year-old man feels toward the people who hurt him.

I told this story in Still Just A Geek, and I’ve talked about it in some podcasts I did on the promo tour, but I’ve never put it out in public like this, in its entirety.

I suspect someone at the publisher would prefer I tease this and hope it drives book sales from people who want to read all of it, but I honestly don’t want to have another weekend like this one where everything is awesome, except the few times people who have no idea (and why should they) put that fucking poster in front of me, and all the fear, abandonment, and trauma come flooding back as I tell them that I won’t sign it, and why.

To their credit, each person was as horrified as they should have been, told me they had no idea (if they didn’t read my book why would they), and quickly put the poster away. They were all understanding. I am grateful for that.

But I really don’t need to tell this story over and over again, so here it is, with a child abuse and exploitation content warning, so I can just tell people to Google it.

After Stand by Me, everything changed. The attention from entertainment journalists, casting directors, and especially teen magazines came pouring in. The movie was a generational hit, beloved by critics and audiences alike, and every single one of us could pick anything to do next.

River’s parents and his agent got him Mosquito Coast, with Harrison Ford, as his next movie. I also auditioned for the role, but I knew even then that River was going to book the job. He was perfect, and I’d have to wait a little bit for my opportunity to come along.

I went on a lot of theatrical auditions after Stand by Me. I had tons of meetings with directors and the heads of casting at every major studio. It was all a very big deal, and I felt like we were all looking for something really special and amazing as my follow-up to Stand by Me.

At some point, a couple of producers contacted my agent with an offer to play one of the leads in an adaptation of H. P. Lovecraft’s “The Colour Out of Space.” The script was titled The Farm. (It would, of course, be changed when the film was released).

I read it. I did not like it. It was a shitty horror movie, and I saw that right away. It was the sort of thing you rented on Friday when the new release you wanted was already out of the store.

My mother, already an incredibly manipulative person, used every tool at her disposal to change my mind. My father threatened me, mocked me, told me “It’s your decision” when it clearly wasn’t. It was all so weird; I didn’t understand why they cared so much.

I told my parents I didn’t like it and didn’t want to do it. I clearly recall thinking it was a piece of shit that would hurt my career.

It wasn’t the first thing that had come our way that I wanted to pass on, and every other time, it hadn’t been a very big deal.

Sidebar: I was cast in Twilight Zone: The Movie, in 1983. The film tells four stories, and I was cast as the kid who can wish people into cartoonland. It was a GREAT role, in a movie I still love. (Note that Twilight Zone had four directors. One of them got three people killed. The segment I was cast in was not that one. I mention this because too many people zero in on this to deflect from what this whole thing is actually about.)

But I was CONVINCED by my parochial school teacher that if I worked on The Twilight Zone, which she had determined was satanic, I would go to hell. (This woman and her bullshit played a big role in my conversion to atheism at a young age, but when she told me that, I was all-in on the supernatural story they taught us in religion class.) I was so scared, more scared than I’d ever been to that point in my life, I cried and wailed and begged my parents to not make me do the movie. And I never told them why, because I was afraid my dad would laugh at me for being weak and afraid. My agent tried to talk me into it, and I wouldn’t budge. It’s the only thing I deeply and truly regret passing on, and I really hate I made that choice for such a stupid reason.

Okay. Back to The Curse.

This time, when I told them how much I hated it, they wouldn’t listen to me. My mother, already an incredibly manipulative person, used every tool at her disposal to change my mind. My father threatened me, mocked me, told me “It’s your decision” when it clearly wasn’t. It was all so weird; I didn’t understand why they cared so much.

That is, until they made me take a meeting with the producers of the movie, in their giant conference room on the top floor of a tall building in Hollywood. All I remember about this place was that it was huge; the table was way too big for the five of us who spread around it, and there were floor-to-ceiling windows on three of the walls, but the room was still dark. There was a weird optical illusion in the center of the table, this thing they sold in the Sharper Image catalog, made from two reflective dishes with a hole in the top of one. You placed an object in the bottom of the bottom dish, and it made it look like that object was floating above the whole thing. They had a plastic spider in it. What a strange detail for me to remember, but it’s as clear in my memory as if I were sitting in that room right now.

One man, who I presumed was the executive producer, was European or Middle Eastern (I didn’t know the difference then, he was just Not Like People I Knew), and I was instantly afraid of him. He was intimidating, and seemed like a person who got what he wanted.

So we sat there, my father who didn’t give a shit about me, my mother who was cosplaying as someone with experience, and me, thirteen years old, awkward as fuck, and scared to death.

I don’t remember what they said to me in their pitch or anything other than how uncomfortable and anxious I was to even be in that room. I tried so hard to be grown up and mature, but I — and my parents — was way out of my depth. I’d done one big movie and that was it. We didn’t have my agent with us, who had lots of experience and would have known what questions to ask.

No, in place of my experienced agent, my mother had decided she was going to be my manager, and she tackled the responsibility with an enthusiasm that was only matched by her absolute incompetence and inability to go toe-to-toe with producers the way my agent did. She was outwitted, out-thought, and outmaneuvered at every turn.

“You don’t have a choice,” my father commanded. “You are doing this movie.”

So we sat there, my father who didn’t give a shit about me, my mother who was cosplaying as someone with experience, and me, thirteen years old, awkward as fuck, and scared to death.

At some point, this man, who is represented in my memory by big Jim Jones sunglasses under dark hair above an open collar, said, “We are offering you a hundred thousand dollars and round-trip travel for your whole family. We will cast your sister, Amy, to play your sister in the movie.”

It all made sense, now. I was only thirteen, but I knew my parents were pushing me so hard because this company was offering me — them, really — more money than I’d ever imagined I’d earn in my life, much less a single job.

I knew that the right thing to do, the smart thing to do, was to say no. There would be other opportunities, and it was stupid to cash myself out of feature films for what I thought was, in the grand scheme of things, not very much money.

It’s incredible to me that I knew all of this. It’s incredible to me that I could see all these things, plainly and clearly, and my parents couldn’t (or, more likely, chose not to).

So after this man made his offer, all the adults in the room ganged up on me, selling me HARD on this movie.

My mother said, “Don’t you want your sister to have the same opportunities you’ve had? Wouldn’t it be fun and exciting to go to Rome? Think of all the history!”

The experience was awful. It was the worst experience I have ever had on a set in my life, by every single metric. The movie is awful, and it is the embarrassment I knew it would be.

I don’t think about this very often, because it’s super upsetting to me. Right now, I’m so angry at my parents for subjecting me and my sister to this entire experience. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

In that moment, I felt bullied and trapped. All these adults were talking to me at the same time, and I just wanted it to stop. I just wanted to go home and get out of this room. I just wanted to go be a kid, so I did what I’d learned to do to survive: I gave in and did what my parents wanted.

The experience was awful. It was the worst experience I have ever had on a set in my life, by every single metric. The movie is awful, and it is the embarrassment I knew it would be.

But here’s the thing: when you watch The Curse, you are watching two children, me and my sister, who were abused on a daily basis. The production did not follow a single labor law. They worked us for twelve hours a day, on multiple film units (while I work on First unit, second unit sets up and waits for me. When I should get a break to rest, they send me to Second unit, then to Third unit, then back to First unit. I was 13.) without any breaks, five days a week. I was exhausted the entire time. I was inappropriately touched by two different adults during production. I knew it was wrong, but I was so scared and ashamed, and I felt so unsupported, I didn’t tell anyone. I knew my dad wouldn’t believe me, and my mother would blame me. Anything to keep the production happy, that’s what she did. That was more important to her than the health and safety of her children. The director was coked out of his mind most of the time, incompetent, and so busy fucking or trying to fuck one of the women in the cast, he was worse than useless. He was a fading actor who was cosplaying as a director, as in over his head as my mother. My sister and I were never safe. Instead of harmless atmospheric SFX smoke, they set hay on fire in barrels and blew actual smoke onto the set. They took buckets of talc, broken wood, bits of wallpaper and plaster, and threw it into my face during a scene inside the collapsing house. My sister is in a scene where she goes to get eggs from some chickens, and they attack her. So they hired Lucio Fulci, the Italian horror master, to direct her sequence. His idea, which everyone was totally on board with, was to throw chickens at my sister. Live chickens, live roosters, live birds. Just throw them at a nine-year-old girl. Oh, and then tie them to her arms and legs so they’ll peck her. All of this happened under my mother’s observation, and with her full participation.

Everything I need to know about who my parents are is wrapped up in that experience: the total lack of concern for my safety and happiness, treating me like an asset instead of a son, lying to me, manipulating me, and using me to get things they wanted, and then gaslighting me about it.

If just ONE of the things I can remember happened to someone I loved, I would have grabbed my kids, gone to the airport, and flown home. Fuck those abusive assholes in the production. Let the lawyers sort it all out. Nobody hurts my children and gets away with it.

My mom says she “had some talks” with the producers. She claims that, once, she wouldn’t let us leave the hotel. (God, what a fucking dump that place was. It was just slightly better than a hostel.) I have no memory of that, but honestly the entire experience was so traumatic, I’ve blocked most of it out.

The movie was the commercial and critical failure I knew it would be. My parents spent the money. I don’t know what they spent it on. I got to keep fifteen cents of every dollar, so . . . yay?

My sister and I hardly ever talk about this. I suspect it was as upsetting and traumatic for her as it was for me. I told her I was writing about it, and asked her if she remembered anything. She told me she’d been lied to her whole life about this movie. Our mother let her believe she had been cast on the strength of her audition. “I was excited to work with you,” she said. She reminded me about some stuff I’d blocked out, including a scene where my character’s older brother (played by an actor named Malcolm Danare, who was kind and gentle, and made both of us feel safer when he was around) shoves my character into a pile of cow shit. When it came time to shoot the scene, the mud they’d put together to be the cow shit looked an awful lot like cow shit. When Malcolm pushed me into it, we all found out it was real cow shit. I was FURIOUS. The director had lied to me and had allowed me to have my entire body shoved into an actual pile of actual cow shit. I don’t remember what I said, but I remember he treated me the exact same way my father did whenever I got upset: he laughed at me, told me I was being too sensitive, reminded me that he was the director and he wanted to get a “real” performance out of me, and concluded, “If it bothers you so much, we’ll get you a hepatitis shot,” before he walked away.

My sister also recalled that, after she survived the scene with the chickens, it was the producers’ idea to give her one as a pet.

Okay, let’s unpack that for a quick second: you’ve been traumatized by these birds, so we’re going to give you one as a pet. That you’ll somehow keep in your hotel, and then will somehow get back to America. It will shock you to learn that neither of those things happened.

She remembered, as I do, the huge fight I had with my parents in our kitchen, where I told them I hated the script and I hated the movie. I didn’t want to do it, and I hated that they were making me do it.

“You don’t have a choice,” my father commanded. “You are doing this movie.”

“This is the only film you are being offered,” my mother lied to me. She made me feel like, if I didn’t do this movie, I would never do another movie again in my life. I had to do this movie. As my father bellowed, I had no choice.

Both of my parents denied this argument ever happened. Can I tell you how reassuring it is to know that my sister, who was also there, remembers it the same way I do?

The makeup department decided they would literally cut my little sister’s face with a scalpel, in three places, and put bandages over them.

But one thing she told me, the thing I did not know, the thing that makes me so angry I want to break things, actually managed to make the entire experience even worse than I remembered it.

There’s a scene after her chicken incident where I check up on her in her bedroom. She’s got cuts and bruises, and I guess we talk about it. I don’t remember and I can’t watch the movie because I’m terrified it will give me a PTSD flashback (I’ve had one of those and I recommend avoiding it). Here’s the thing about that scene: she has some cuts on her face, and those cuts are real. They are not makeup.

I’m going to repeat that. My nine-year-old little sister had actual cuts on her face that were placed there by an adult, on purpose.

The makeup department decided they would literally cut my little sister’s face with a scalpel, in three places, and put bandages over them. My sister told me our mother wasn’t in the makeup room when this happened — honestly, it seemed like our mother was strangely and conveniently absent when most of the really terrible things happened to us on the set — and when my sister told her what they’d done, she “lost her shit” at the production. She was pissed, I guess, which is appropriate and surprising. I wonder what would have to have happened for her to put us on a plane and get us home to safety? I mean, her son being abused daily didn’t do it, and her daughter being CUT IN THE FACE ON PURPOSE didn’t do it.

I just . . . I can’t. I can’t understand or comprehend allowing your own children to be physically and emotionally abused. They were literally selling my sister and me to these people, like we were some kind of commodity.

This was a tough conversation. My sister’s experience with our parents is very different from mine. My sister and I love each other. We’re close. I know it’s hard for her to hear that her brother, who she loves, was so abused by her parents, who she also loves. I was really grateful she made the time to talk to me about it, and grateful the experience wasn’t as horrible for her as it was for me.

As we were finishing our call, Amy also remembered one man, a young Italian named Luka, who was our driver for the movie. I haven’t thought about him in thirty years, but I can see his face now. He was kind, he was friendly, he taught us how to kick a soccer ball, and in the middle of an abusive, torturous experience, he stood out as a kind and gentle man. I mention him because she remembered him, which made me remember him, and goddammit I want at least one small part of this thing to not be awful.

The Curse remains one of the most consequential times the adults in my life failed to protect me. I’m 50. I still have nightmares.

Ultimately, as I predicted and feared, this piece of shit movie cashed me out of respectable films forever. I got offers for movies, but they were always mindless comedies or exploitative horror films. They were never the serious dramas I wanted to work in after Stand by Me. The industry looked at me and River, wondering if one or both of us would become a breakout star. They quickly saw that River was doing real acting work, and I was in this piece of shit. For River, Stand by Me was a beginning. For me, it would turn out to be pretty much everything, at least as far as film goes.

There are thousands of reasons film careers do and don’t take off. Maybe mine wouldn’t have taken off anyway. Clearly, it’s not where my life ended up, and I’m super okay with that now. But when all of this happened, it hurt and haunted me.

The Curse remains one of the most consequential times the adults in my life failed to protect me. I’m 50. I still have nightmares. Everything I need to know about who my parents are is wrapped up in that experience: the total lack of concern for my safety and happiness, treating me like an asset instead of a son, lying to me, manipulating me, and using me to get things they wanted, and then gaslighting me about it.

This annotation is the last thing I wrote before I turned this manuscript in, because opening these wounds is hard and painful. I put it off as long as I could, and I feel like I’m still holding back, because just this small glimpse of the experience has taken me a week to write. I can’t imagine trying to go back and unpack the whole thing. (Note that is not in the book: I’ve made an EMDR appointment to work on this because the nightmares have come back after the weekend).

Fuck The Curse, and fuck every single person who exploited and hurt two beautiful children to make it. You all participated in child abuse, and you all knew better. Shame on all of you. I hope this follows you to the end of your life. I hope that living with what you did to innocent children has been as hard for you as it has been for me, because you deserve no less.

[goldberrg]

surely "bestfriends"

summary : You and Billy have been best friends for a while, but when he comes over unexpectedly.

TW's – cursing, sex (in details)

The end of your pencil tapped against the edge of your desk, the side of your head resting on your hand. Your leg bounced to the same rhythm as your pencil, while you listened to your teacher finish up telling you guys about a project. You were all reading "Pride and Prejudice", or at least had read it, and now needed to do the final project for it. You were aloud to work in groups of up to four, but you knew you'd only be working with one person – your best friend, Billy Hargrove.

Billy's step-mom, Susan, and your own mother were close friends. They worked together, and when you had been invited over for dinner the first week they moved to Hawkins, you and Billy had clicked. The two of you spent most of the night in his room, flipping through his vinyl's and helping him hang up his posters. You couldn't help but mock him about the clichè Playboy posters he had, and all the random crap in his room. But the two of you hit it off, becoming close friends quick.

And now he was your partner for every english assignment, art project, and science project. Those were the three classes you shared together. The first time you tried pairing up with someone other than him, a girl named Cheryl, he didn't speak to you for three whole days. Even when he drove you to and from school, he blared his music so loud your ears rang for hours afterwards.

Only after the project was over, and you showed up at his door with two tickets to see a movie.

Once your teacher had finished giving out her information and instructions, the class dispersed to get with their groups or partners. You leaned your head back, already finding Billy getting up from his seat behind you. He tossed his backpack onto the now-vacant desk beside yours, slamming his body into the chair with a grunt. This was your cue to get up and go get the poster board you would need for the project. You returned with a plain, white board compared to the other varying colors of purple, green, blue and red.

— Get your gross feet off the desk. — you ordered, glaring down at Billy since your hands were preoccupied. Billy rolled his eyes, but complied and removed his feet, the legs of the chair falling back onto the floor.

— Alright, doll, what's the plan? — Billy questioned, reaching into your backpack and pulling out your personal copy of the book. You'd already read the book various times throughout middle school and early high school, so you and Billy switched off borrowing your book.

— I figured I'd paint the board, sort of like a collage. Have different things on it. — you explained, looking down at him from the other side of the desk.

— Sounds good to me. We have two weeks, right? — he asked, quirking an eyebrow up at you.

— Yup, so if you don't finish the book by then, I'll kick your fucking ass. — you hissed, watching as he paused his skimming through the book.

— What?

— There weren't any lions in the book, jerk. You have two days to finish it. You're three fourths done, because that's how much we've read together, so you can finish a hundred pages by Thursday. — you sighed, rolling your eyes.

You walked over and sat in your own chair.

— Yeah, yeah, alright Your Highness. — he grumbled, closing the book and tossing it on top of the poster. — What else? We're doing the whole 'main characters, theme, plot, climax' stuff, right?

— Of course that's the only word you'd remember. — you grinned, shoving his shoulder as he laughed. — The dramatic structure, yes. And all the other stuff. We'll split it up. — you said, putting the book away. — You're coming over after dropping Max off, right? — you asked, standing up.

— Yeah. Most likely around 4:00. — he said, standing up as well when the bell rang and slinging his bag over his shoulder. — Let's go, doll.

Once Billy dropped you off at home, you laid the poster board on your bed and your backpack by your desk. You decided to shower and change into comfy clothes before Billy came over, after all you had about an hour. So you grabbed a pair of skull pajama pants and a big shirt, before heading into the bathroom. You turned the water on high, stripping off your clothes from the day, leaving you in your underwear. Grabbing your moms essential rose oil, you dropped a couple drops into the shower before leaving it slightly unopened on the rack next to the shower. The smell would help relieve the tension of the day, and get you focused for schoolwork. Finally, you took off your bra and underwear, stepping in.

The hot water hit you in the face, and you welcomed it. Scrubbing your face, you made sure to get your mascara and concealer off so that when you got out you wouldn't look horrifying. You let the water travel to your hair, smoothing it down your shoulders. Steam filled up the bathroom, the smell of rose invading your senses.

The roaring of the water was so loud that you didn't hear your front door open or Billy shouting for you name.

Billy pulled up to your driveway, hopping out of his car and heading up to the front door. Max had been dropped off at Mike's, not Dustin's, so it was a lot closer than he thought. He decided not to stop at home afterwards, and just head straight to your place. So he got there around 3:20, rather than 4:00. Not that big of a deal.

Banging on the door, Billy waited a minute or two for you to answer. When you didn't, he tried again, but louder. After the third time, Billy just barged in, rolling his eyes at the fact it was unlocked.

— Hey! Y/N? — he called out, hearing the shower running. Kicking his shoes off by the door, Billy tossed his jacket onto the back of your couch. He didn't hear a response from you, so he headed towards the bathroom. Knocking on the door with his knuckles, he leaned against the frame.

— Come in! — Billy's eyes shot open, looking at the closed door in shock.

As you were putting shampoo into your hair, you heard a knock on the bathroom door. You looked over at it through the glass doors, thinking of who it could be. Your mom wouldn't be home until later, and an intruder wouldn't fucking knock. So you probably lost track of time, and it was Billy.

— Come in. — you called out, not minding if he did or not. The glass walls were textured and opaque so he wouldn't be able to see anything porn-worthy.

And the two of you had paraded around in front of each other with your underwear on before, it wasn't much different. There was a pause before the door creaked open, and the outline of Billy came in.

— Sorry I'm early, doll. — he said, his voice darker than normal. — It didn't take as long to drop Max off. And I figured I'd stop by right after to get a head start on the project, maybe hang out for a while. I didn't realize you'd be naked.

— It's fine. — you laughed, opening the door slightly so you could poke your head out. He was sitting on the sink counter, shirtless. Every other girl in Hawkins was wet for Billy Hargrove, how could they not be? And of course you fell into that category. But you couldn't express it like they could, even though you were closer to him than they were. A few times a week, you'd find your hand sneaking down your underwear, his name leaving your mouth as you writhed against your sheets.

— Don't take too long, alright? — Billy pleaded, when he looked up and saw you looking out of the shower. His cheeks were red, but you passed it off as the hot steam. — Why the hell does it smell like roses in here? There aren't any flowers. — he questioned suddenly, lifting his nose in the air and diverting his eyes away from your wet neck.

— It's my momma's rose oil. I use it to relax. — you said, a 'duh' tone to your voice as you closed the door. — And I'll take however damn long as I please.

— Course you will. — Billy grumbled, and you smirked to yourself. You washed away the shampoo as Billy fired off more questions. — Why do you need rose oil to relax? Doesn't that burning water help?

— Not entirely. It helps my muscles from being hunched over all day, and the steam helps with my nose. But the rose oil adds the extra flare. It's rejuvenating.

— Rejuvenating? The hell's that supposed to mean? — Billy ridiculed, hopping off the counter and moving closer to the door so he could hear you better over the shower.

— It's like... I don't know Billy! — you huffed, opening the door suddenly and popping your head out. You were startled when you came face-to-face with him, noticing the way his eyes darted down to your nearly exposed chest and back up. — It helps with headaches, my skin if I apply it directly onto it, and the smell is just nice. Don't you think? It's just fucking relaxing. Unlike you right now. It's amplified in the shower, so I apologize if you're not getting the full treatment. — you snapped, getting frustrated. Having Billy so close in an intimate setting was rough, especially when you couldn't touch. It was like a goddamn museum, you can look, drool and adore. But if you touch, you're getting arrested.

— I'm getting the full treatment just fine, baby. — Billy snickered, leaning closer to you as his eyes dragged up and down your hidden form. Your face heated up, and you shot your hand out, shoving his face back.

— Pff, yeah right, Hargrove. — you scoffed, closing the door and diving under the water. Your breathing was heavy and you tried to mellow it out by focusing on your conditioner.

— You still with that Caden guy? — Billy suddenly asked, his voice now on the other side of the doors, causing your eyebrows to furrow.

— No, I broke it off two weeks ago. Remember? He couldn't decide if he wanted me or Jenny more, even though he was fucking her the whole time.?— you laughed dryly, running the conditioner through your hair as you shook your head at the memory.

— Good. — Billy muttered, but you still caught it. — You could do so much better than him.

— Yeah? — you laughed, shaking your hair to even out the conditioner. — Like who, you?

— Exactly like me. — you stopped, and turned to the end of the doors. There was an audible zipping sound, causing your heart to speed up.

— That so? And what makes you think that, Billy? — you called out, biting your lip and turning to face the water again, washing out the conditioner, in hopes of calming yourself. Your heart hammered against your chest when you heard the shower doors open, as if it was about to leap out of your throat. You didn't turn around however, opting to close your eyes as the water hit your face.

— Cause. — he replied simply, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear.

Your eyes shot open as rough hands gripped at your hips, spinning you around. Your arms collided with Billy's chest, your head tilting up to look at him. His blond hair was beginning to stick to his face, and his blue eyes stuck out more than ever against the tiles. You weren't given anymore time to admire him, because his lips were on yours instantly. Both of you were swallowing water, your lips pushing against each other desperately. Billy walked the two of you backwards carefully, making sure you didn't slip, until your back hit the wall. You were now out of the harsh spray of the water, and you broke away to gasp for clear air.

— Are you.. — you attempted to ask, not wanting him to regret this, and have the friendship ruined.

— Yes, yes I'm sure, Y/N. — Billy said, not giving you the chance to finish. His hand reached up, pushing your wet, dark hair out of your face before leaning back down to capture you in another demanding kiss. Your fingers tangled in his damp curls, tugging slightly when his hands gripped your waist tightly.

Billy moved his hands under your thighs and crouched, indicating you to jump, and you did. Your legs tightened around his waist for dear life, knowing that if either of you gave out it'd end in a naked hospital trip.

— Fuck. — you moaned out, breaking the kiss as his cock rubbed against your pussy, tilting your head back. Billy ducked his head, attaching his mouth to the center of your throat, biting the thin flesh before sucking it. You whimpered, moving your body up and down the slick wall slightly, giving the both of you more friction. His nails dug into your ass, pinning you to the wall so you couldn't move.

— Don't do that, princess. — he warned lowly, vibrating against your throat. You could feel the occasional pulse of his cock against you, and you wanted nothing more than for it to be in you. Whether it was your mouth or pussy, you didn't care. You just wanted it.

— Billy, please. — you whined, after having waited patiently for him to finishing sucking on your neck.

— What do you want, baby. — he growled, pulling back to look up at you. You didn't answer him, instead you held onto his shoulders tightly so you could unwrap your legs without death. Once your feet were safely on the ground, you flipped the two of you, so his back was against the wall and your back was facing the water. Giving him a smirk, you kissed the corner of his mouth before getting on your knees. Billy's tongue darted out, licking along his lips while looking down at you, his hand running through your wet hair. Grabbing his dick in your hand, you pulled at it a few times, twisting your hand along the base. Leaning down, you gave the tip a few kitten licks, gathering the pre-cum onto your tongue. Looking up at Billy, you waited until his eyes fluttered closed before taking the beginning of his dick into your mouth.

— Ugh, Y/N. — Billy grunted, his hold on your hair tightening. You smiled internally, licking the underside of his cock, and then left to right in order to ease your mouth farther down. It took a few minutes, but soon enough the tip had gone past your tonsils. Your eyes were watering, and saliva was dribbling out of the edges of your mouth. Billy's hips bucked against your mouth, his tight grip on your hair giving you a steady rhythm. Continuous moans streamed out of his mouth, and eventually you were roughly pulled off of his dick.

— Not yet, baby. — he said, more so to himself than you. You understood what he meant, and grinned in satisfaction. Putting his finger under your chin, Billy guided you to stand up. Holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger, Billy pulled you in for a slower, more passionate kiss. Your hands rested on his chest, relishing in the warmth of the water and his body. His free hand traveled down the small of your back, tickling you as he went, before gropping your ass.

— Billy.. — you gasped, your voice breathless. You grinded yourself against him again, growing impatient. You looked into his eyes, chewing on your bottom lip to keep in your needy whines. Billy simply smirked down at you, fully aware of what it was you wanted – no, needed.

— Hmm? — he hummed, a wicked grin on his face. You let out an impatient huff, ducking your head to harshly bite at his shoulder. Billy hissed out, the hold on your ass tightening before it released. You thought he was just gonna move you two, but instead he brought his hand down in a harsh slap.

— Ah, Fuck. — you cried out in shock, arching your back.

— Don't bite. — he warned, and then he finally pushed your body against the wall on the side, the cool tile instantly calming down your burning ass cheek.

— Then fuck me already, you jerk. — you snapped, running your thumb over the bite mark on his shoulder. Billy's eyebrow rose at your bold statement, and you simply grinned up at him. His fingers ran down your stomach, tracing at your curves and marks of imperfections. He kept eye contact with you as his middle and ring finger dipped between your folds, slowly dragging from your entrance to your clit. Your body jumped at finally being touched, a sigh leaving your mouth. His thumb rolled around your nub, your hips jerking occasionally, while his middle finger worked it's way inside you. A small grunt sounded in your throat, and you held onto Billy's shoulder, leaning your head against the wall. Once his middle finger was in to the knuckle, he pushed in his ring finger and began pumping them in and out of you, curling them.

— Ugh. — you whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulder. Billy started kissing his way around your jaw, neck and chest, occasionally licking your nipple for fun. He added his forefinger after a minute, another moan escaping. You bit your lip, hard, holding in another whimper.

— Why are you being so quiet, princess? It's just us. — he mused, biting at your earlobe.

— I don't wanna boost your ego. — you snickered, yelping when his thumb pressed down on your clit and his fingers dug inside you even more.

— Yeah, well. — he laughed, shaking his head. — You can't hide the sounds you're making down here. — he snickered, slowly pulling his three fingers out of you and bringing them to his mouth. His tongue moved between his fingers, licking your juices and the shower water off of them. You watched, mesmerized.

Once his fingers were cleaned to his liking, he gripped the back of your thighs, having you jump up again. He gave you a nod, questioning if you were ready or not. You nodded yours quickly, having been ready for this for months. Aligning his cock with your entrance, Billy didn't have the ability to ease himself in because of your guys positions. So with one quick thrust, he was inside you, his hand splayed out against the wall and the other gripping your ass.

— Fuck. — you screamed, throwing your head back, crying out when it hit the wall. Billy was big, bigger than his three fingers. Your arms pulled him closer, trying to even out your breathing and relax your muscles around him. Billy didn't move, small moans being breathed into the crook of your neck.

— I'm sorry, doll. — he whispered, knowing it hurt. You didn't have lube or a condom, and not much preparation.

— No, no, don't apologize. — you said quickly, squeezing yourself around him to emphasize. — It's fine. You can.. you can start.

Billy removed his head to look at you, but when you gave him a nod he started moving. He thrusted slowly, not wanting to lose his grip on you or push your body. Both of you were breathing heavily, and you moved your body along his, matching his thrusts with your own.

— God. — he moaned, pulling his cock farther out before slamming back in, continuing the movement over and over again. Your nails scratched their way over his shoulder blades, biceps, back and anywhere they could reach. The pain was decreasing as the thrusting went on, and when Billy moved you slightly to the left, slamming back in, your eyes shot open.

— Holy fuck, right there, Billy! — you shouted out, arching yourself into him.

Billy smirked up at you, licking his bottom lip and doing as you said. He quickened his pace, no longer hearing your hisses of pain, and thrusted into you quickly. The sound of his skin slapping against yours, as well as the sound of your back hitting the wall, echoed throughout the bathroom, overpowering the shower.

— Ugh, god. — Billy grunted, throwing his head back. — I can't hold out much longer, Y/N. — he moaned, looking down at you just as you opened your eyes to look at him.

— I'm close too. — you whimpered, hiking yourself higher up on the wall, screaming out when his cock hit the spot again, but deeper. — Fuck, fuck, fuck. — you moaned, a streamline of curse words leaving your mouth. — Billy, I'm.. — you tried to warn him, but a high pitched moan escaped before you could finish as the heat in the bottom of your stomach exploded. A wave of warmth washed over you, your toes curling and your thighs squeezing around Billy, pulling him closer. You mouth fell open, letting out a small, quiet gasp as you orgasmed.

Billy pulled out quickly, feeling his own orgasm wash over him, and his hot cum sprayed over your stomach and the tops of your thighs. Your head fell to his shoulder limply, your body slipping down the shower wall, as it shook from your orgasm. You could see your thighs wiggling, and Billy gently lowered you to the floor. When the cold shower water hit you, you welcomed it, letting the cum wash off of you.

— Hey. — Billy whispered, his arms wrapping around you from behind. — This isn't a one time thing. I want you to be mine.

— Good. — you grinned, a giddy feeling coming over you, more intense than your orgasm. You turned around to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck. — Let's go take a nap, that project can wait until later.

[nightmare-foundation]

Honestly it lowkey annoys me whenever people say that Michael has 'very little personality' outside of hunting down his father.

N like- on the surface, that seems true, but like. If you look deeper, that's... not really true?? Because there's a LOT that actually speaks to his character, but you have to be willing to catch onto the connections his character has

Like, for example, Michael has a very straightforward way of speaking. He's dry and sarcastic ("They thought I was you... [laugh]"), has a foreshortened sense of the future (the drawing of a gravestone in the security logbook), not to mention the dialogue of foxybro in fnaf 4. He doesn't beat around the bush, but he's bitter and dry and sarcastic. Even as an old man, his anger and cynicism towards Freddy's shows in his drawings, but he has a sense of humor (the exotic butters and casual bongos referenced in the logbook, not to mention the silly drawings), plus he's sentimental (as said before, exotic butters and casual bongos). Not to mention he's stubborn as shit, given he keeps coming back to Freddy's, even after 30 whole years.

A lot of people also really like to write Michael off as being stupid, for... some reason. The games really say otherwise; the fact that he tampers with the animatronics regularly, figured out what his father did and what happened to Elizabeth in less than a week, freed the dead kids, helped make FFPS and ran a business, likely Also made the fnaf 3 location too, knew what was gonna happen to him in SL (pretty clear given the fact you can ignore Baby's directions on the last night), can manage several animatronics at once throughout an entire night...

Michael is very clearly Really Fucking Smart. Smart enough that I'm willing to bet that was one of the reasons why William sent him to the SL bunker. Michael is FAR from an idiot, and the FNAF movie even proves this further! He's SCARILY smart!

There's a lot more too; him using a red foxy mask speaks a lot to his character too. Red is often used to denote everything from passion to anger (yknow, 'seeing red' being a term for when you're blind with rage), and he wears it the entire time he bullies CC. It's not just a literal mask, it's figurative too; Michael puts up a mask of anger, he pretends to be this scary bully. The cruelty isn't real, Michael is just the scapegoat and he's acting out (very very common).

Also, Michael is 100% who you play as in fnaf 4 based on the movement, and who rubs away in Midnight Motorist. CC is the type of kid to freeze up, curl up into a ball and cry when he's scared, as seen several times in fnaf 4. It wouldn't make sense for him to suddenly turn around and start running around, or fighting back. It's very Michael to run around, constantly looking around, or to break out and run away.

Another note on Michael's character is that he's associated with Foxy. The Funtimes are clearly modeled after the Aftons (Ballora and Baby are, why wouldn't the rest match CC (Freddy) and Michael (Foxy)?), and using that we can gleam some parts of Michael from FT Foxy (since William clearly was trying to mock and make fun of him with the angsty teen voice). FT Foxy is a performer; he's dramatic, he's vicious, attacking even when he 'shouldn't', and wants his stage solely to himself.

This fits Michael; Michael put on an act of viciousness and cruelty, always attacking when you least expected it. So it makes sense that Michael, too, is a performer, and FFPS hammers this in using the business bear. Again, the mask represents Michael acting, pretending, and it wouldn't be the first time an Afton would pretend (William, Elizabeth, and to an extent, CC). The rest of the Aftons are also theatrical and dramatic, so again, this tracks. He's also represented as one of those hand puppets in the ffps alleyway poster, something used to ACT.

And again, with Foxy, we can gleam that Michael likely is also a sort of 'leader' figure, since Foxy has been depicted as not just a pirate captain, but also as a Ringleader. This also tracks, not just bc the Aftons have a circus theme, but Michael is the eldest of his siblings, and thus the de facto 'leader'. He's the first to act, to put things into motion when everything 'ends'. Foxy is also, well, a fox, which are depicted as cunning and intelligent, which only lends credence to Michael being intelligent.

It's also implied that Michael... doesn't really care about people who Aren't his family?? Whether that's by blood or not, he doesn't care abt others who isn't his family. This is implied by the fact that he only cared about freeing Elizabeth, showing absolutely No care about the Funtimes despite them clearly being sentient. Not to mention the lawsuits he regularly gets in FFPS, or the state Fazbears Frights is in in fnaf 3. And, judging by Henry's final speech, he and Michael just. Don't seem to talk At All. At the very least they definitely don't communicate since Henry assumed Michael wanted to die (which is left Very Ambiguous).

Honestly this doesn't even BEGIN to get into everything that the Glitchtrap Michael theory says about his character that also hammer in all of these traits Even Further.

And like. Michael is SOOO much like William when you put all of this into perspective. Like, they are SIMILAR similar, but differ in ways that are important. Michael is a performer, an actor, he doesn't care about anyone outside of his family, he's stubborn as fuck, he's smart as hell, he's sarcastic and dry, etc.

He has SO. MUCH. CHARACTER. You just have to dig a little- this is ALL gleamed from the games and Security Logbook. There's more if you believe he's Glitchtrap- which he very likely is.

Just... it's nuts. He's such an intriguing character, he's not perfect and he's morally gray, yet people love to dumb him down to "hehe sad uwu arsonist zombie boy who's also Stupid"

Please just let Michael be a problematic old man (he was born in the 60s ffs, he's almost in his 60s by the time ffps rolls around).

[travelbasscase]

house md twilight headcanons because i had an idea™

Foreman: Has not read any Twilight book, relentlessly mocks anyone who has.

Cuddy: Has read the first book, decided it wasn't for her.

Cameron: Has read all of them, is unwilling to admit that she has for fear of being mocked by House (understandable). She didn't love them, but neither did she hate it.

Wilson: Read the first book and enjoyed it. Decided to continue on to the rest of the series. However, he somehow missed the middle books and jumped right into Breaking Dawn, and never noticed his mistake.

Chase: Read every single book multiple times. Deeply invested. Openly admits it. HUGE fan of Edward and Bella. Has made multiple Quotev "which Twilight character are you" quizzes. Has posters on his wall of characters from the series. Was incensed by the movies because he felt that they weren't faithful enough to the books.

Stacy: Never heard of them.

Taub: Absolutely adores it. Started a book club with Chase.

Kutner: Didn't read the books, but loved the movies. Sometimes shows up to Chase and Taub's book club.

Thirteen: Thinks that the love triangle is stupid. Hates Bella with passion. Probably wants Edward and Jacob to run off into the sunset together. Sometimes shows up to Chase and Taub's book club just to pick fights with Chase.

House: Has read every book and watched every movie, but everyone just kind of assumed that he wouldn't and never asked if he did. He does not get involved in any conversation surrounding the books so that he can maintain his facade of not having consumed any of the media, but occasionally makes references to it purely to confuse all of his employees, because there's no way that their boss would have read those, so his allusions must be coincidence, right?

He has also read the much worse, much trashier (somehow) Night World series by LJ Smith, and is very upset that it's never been finished. He is invested in the plot and spends his free time sending letters to the author begging her to finish the series.

[heliphantie]

Happy second anniversary of Encanto movie!

I had (then and year ago) more ambitious idea of mock poster, but again, to execute it properly, decided to put it aside until skills and tools for it gained. So I opted for the piece reflecting on my personal take from the story.

The drawing is an experiment, drawn traditionally in complementary colors and put through color inversion in an editor.

I’m not a fandom person, admittedly. What piques my interest in exploring of piece of fiction is, usually, is its origins, history of creation, cultural background and, in some cases, impact it leaves on the art coming after it, rarely anything beyond. With all things I’ve had getting into recently, it was like that, generally observatory things. When I’ve got into MLP, it was a phenomenon of its large fandom, sheer variety of art forms it produced (from the music and games to automata toys), people of different upbringing and cultures being all inspired by it – fascinating to witness such a movement in present time. With The Simpsons, it was its legacy, its large influence in modern media – seeing the roots, the blueprint of it, getting understanding of why it was such a powerful piece of storytelling and visual direction to raise the cult around it. With Encanto, it got me curious at first to see aesthetic of magical realism being translated in form of animation, and I was surprised Disney decided to dip their toes into attempt of it. Generally, I’m more enticed by potential of the story and its artistic presentation, most of it is left in concept studies rather than in finished work, as often in mainstream production, possibilities and imagination and artistic talent poured into it is much more stunning than the product released to the public. I may feel reasonably cynical about modern Disney as company, but I can’t deny the imagination and immense genius of professionals who are still at work in it. I wish we’ll see the true Renaissance of what always was its major power - traditional animation.

So, what’s the outcome of it: while any piece of fiction that wins my full attention does make my creative juices flowing, nothing of it got to see the light of day until I felt the urge to express what was brewing in my mind affected by that new and hot thing, not to a lesser extent getting inspired by other people’s concurrent creative works, it did kick off renewal of drawing practice I had abandoned years ago and continued postponing for indefinite period. It still induces me to work toward my own progress, for it provides me with backlog of ideas to make into drawings when I really need motivation. It’s going to keeping up, hopefully, until some other thing sweeps me away or something makes my enthusiasm fade. And so, the movie in question is what had the most productive impact on me so far, it helps me keep going, and I’m grateful for that.

On the different note, Bruno in this image is based on Disney Magic Kingdoms's Encanto event video:

[ieatedyourcrayons]

Askin for a Jeff the Killer x Male!Reader fic where the reader mirrors Jeff's personality quite a bit, im talkin cocky bastard with a joker laugh type shit, and at first he DESPISES the reader but quickly turns into a touble trouble duo :3 🔪❤🔪

Got you! hopefully you like it! kinda went on a yap session

no trigger warnings

Double trouble. Jeff the killer x male!reader

You were new to the slenderman mansion. Your cocky and straightforward demeanor fit right in with the others that lurked in the walls of the manor. Your blunt responses and manic behaviors pushed the infamous jeffery woods away from you.

Jeff couldn’t stand having someone like him around, he took offense to it, Does he think he’s better then me or something? is something Jeff thought everytime you opened your mouth.

Jeff didn’t bother giving you a chance at introducing yourself to him nor did he care for your introduction. He went out of his way to avoid you until one time you guys both wandered into the kitchen at 3:46 A.M.

You walk in the kitchen with the hopes of finding something to eat, you’ve been up playing your games all night, not caring to sleep, Jeff was doing the same, neither of you knowing.

As you’re rummaging through the fridge, a sudden voice startles you, causing you to jump, hitting your head on the fridge. “Oh it’s you.” Jeff mutters rudely as he grabs a bowl out the cabinet.

“what’s your problem?” you ask as you hold the spot on your head that you hit, your voice rough from the lack of talking and water

“My problem?” he scoffs, “what’s your problem?” He adds with a rude tone

“what are you even talking about?” you ask with genuine confusion as your stare at him dumbfounded.

“Oh cmon. don’t act like that, you think you’re better then me, you may have a pretty face but you’ll never be better then me dude” Jeff says rudely, his jealousy leaking through every word.

“What are you talking about? I don’t think i’m better than you. Two people can have similar personalities ya’know? You haven’t even given me a chance and I could care less about being you” You spit back , saying the “being you” with a mocking tone as you push your hair out of your face.

Jeff stands with an offended look on his face , finding himself unable to say anything realizing you’re right.. he’s overreacting and he really hasn’t given you a chance. Jeff’s expression quickly falls off his face and is replaced with embarrassment.

“…You’re right. i’m sorry bro i don’t know why i’m like this… How are you?” Jeff says with a sigh, hoping that you won’t hold this against him.

You sigh, not wanting to keep this tension between yall any longer. “You’re good, and i’m fine, i’ve just been on the game all night.. how about you?” You ask before turning back into the fridge and grabbing some left overs and bringing it to the microwave.

Relief washes over Jeff after you respond. “Really? same, i’ve been trying to beat elden ring for like 15 hours!” He laughs as he grabs some cereal and pours it in his bowl.

“Dude really? I can help you. i’m like.. a pro at elden ring” you laugh back before the microwave beeps, signaling your food is done. You quickly open the door to the microwave, stoping the beeping , and taking out your food.

“Yo will you actually help? I need it bad” He says, A hint of amusement behind his words. “Yeah dude, gotta help a brother out” you respond with a laugh before bringing a spoon full of your food to your mouth.

“Yes! thank you! oh uhm, what’s your name?” Jeff says hesitantly as he picks his bowl up and grabs a spoon, ready to go to his room.

“it’s y/n, and i know your name, jeffery” you tease as you two begin walking to his room, ready to put Jeff’s elden ring skills to shame.

Jeff jokingly cringes at your use of his full name. You guys enter jeff’s room, his walls littered with posters of movies and metal bands, clothes and other things scattered on his grey floor, the walls a dark red with led lights wrapping the ceiling boards.

You look around the room in admiration, “yo this is a vibe” you stare before shoving a spoon full of you food into you mouth “Fanks” jeff says with a mouthful of cereal in his mouth.

Eventually you two settle on the floor infront of jeff’s small monitor with an xbox controller on the floor infront of it. “Uh.. do you not have a desk?” you ask confused “eh i broke it” Jeff shrugs. You turn and look at him with a confused but amused expression before saying “understandable” with a shrug as you turn your attention to the screen.

———————————————————————————

You and jeff bond over Elden ring and shared trauma , Jeff realizing he would’ve missed out big time if he never gave you a chance. Now you two are inseparable and cause havoc in the manor, terrorizing everyone and going on missions together.

[lukaherehelp]

Okey, Detectiva Luka on the case!

I'll be cracking this plot open in order on how things will go so, sit down and relax, grab a coffee and something to munch.

This post will briefly attached things from this post by @syrena-del-mar alongside my post here on the movies,as well as the ones about Tan and Phee being the killers and Tan using poison on the guys, as well as my theory of why I think each mask is different and I think I know whom is behind each one (thanks again to @blmpff for the screenshots). All these theories have being a collective effort between the multiple minds in the bl/gl server so also a big thanks to them for being as unhinged about these as me djslkajdlkjass with that being said...

Let's jump right in, shall we?

So yesterday we discovered that the movie posters in Non's room are fake mock-ups of real life horror movies, right? and there's a fourth poster that can be found in Jin's room in the trailer that we haven't seeing yet in the series, but I'm going to talk about it as well. They go in these order:

Rivarium, Whisper and La Madre

and Jin's:

Devil

Imagine Jin's is where the bookshelf is in Non's and we get this order:

Rivarium -> Whisper -> Devil -> La Madre

or may I say:

Vivarium, 2019 -> The Whisper, 2007 -> Devil, 2012 -> Mamá, 2012

the order they are in is really important because it actually shows us how the plot is moving. The movie posters give away the plot. Let's go in order:

What is important to us from Vivarium (2019) are two things: the looping element of its plot (not a timeloop) and the brood parasitism example they show at the beginning of the film and feeds into with the plot later on with the loop element.

Vivarium shows as at the beginning the brood parasitism of cuckoos, birds that don't nest their eggs and instead, sneak them into other birds' nest for them to raise them. The gang, quote "Non's Friends" are the cuckoo, leaching out of a bird to raise their babies. Or, in their case, draining Non (the bird) out of his ideas and kindness (the nest) for their own good. The loop element comes into these with two new cuckoos, Tan and Phee, infiltrating the group (the birds), but instead of using it to rip the benefits (getting their eggs in the nest), their true intention here is being full parasites. They are a virus contaminating the body that is the friend group. They are "The Boy", ready to kill.

And how do they do this? Here is where The Whisper (2007) comes into play. David as a concept, to be more specific, comes into play.

David is an eight-year-old boy that is not really what it seems. He's the son of a wealthy woman, so kidnapping him should be easy, but this provokes many deaths in the movie amongs his captors. Why? 'cause David, in reality, is a demon. A demon that can "suggest" and "influence" the people around him to do whatever he wants. Only Max survives and is able to kill David, but not after the later has taken with him the lifes of everyone else without moving a finger. Phee and Tan haven't moved a single finger against the group (yet), but "the killer" has being doing it ever so slightly. And even like this, the only death among the boys that has happend wasn't even by the hands of "the killer". No, Por dies because Top kills him. "The Killer" (Phee and Tan) are pitting the boys against one another without them even knowing. The only thing they have done truly is poison them (going again with the loop thing as the gang drugged Non in the past) so they allucinate. And one specific allucination brings me to the next movie:

@syrena-del-mar gave a really good synopsis:

Devil (2010) revolves around five strangers that become trapped in an elevator. As they struggle to escape, it becomes apparent that one among them is the Devil incarnated, manipulating events and tormenting the others with a series of disturbing manifestations. Meanwhile, outside the elevator, a detective investigates the strange occurrences, gradually piecing together the connection between the trapped individuals and the sinister presence haunting the building. As the situation inside the elevator becomes increasingly dire, the characters are forced to confront their darkest secrets and sins, each suspecting the others of being the Devil in disguise. Once they deny their sins, the devil is able to claim their soul. The Devil is unable to claim the last survivor's soul, because these one confesses and repents for having killed a family in a car accident and fleeing the scene. "

Y'all can see why Jin is the one to own this poster, right? But I think there's two reasons for this:

the first one is the obvious, which is that Jin, amongs all the boys, is the one that probably regrets the treatment towards Non the most. He really cared about him, and he harmed him as badly as the other did. But he is repenting, and he might have already done half of the work no so long after the release of the video...

Because the second reason Jin has these poster is the fact that he shares the same sin as Tony, the survivor, in Devil: a hit and run. In Jin's case, Keng's hit and run.

Jin's only allucination speaks for itself, so I don't think I need to add anything else to this point.

but Devil also begins with a bible verse:

"Be sober, be vigilant: Because your adversary the devil walks about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour."

The devil, the lion here, are Tan and Phee... or in Jin's case, Phee specifically. Both boys are playing the long game dragging these revenge for three long years, but Phee has make it upon himself to get the closest to Jin. And I think is because he knows, he knows Jin was involved with what happen to Non, he knows about the video, and he wants Jin to pay as well. But avenging Non by killing Keng might be what could keep Jin alive at the end... or at least to not be killed by the hands of Phee and Tan.

Talking about killing! A little side track to point out that I definetly believe that White will survive yes or yes and as I said this morning, I need him to be like the main character in the book Final Girls by Riley Sager and kill Tee himself. Period.

getting back on track, LET'S BEGIN WITH @blmpff BLORBO, THIS SILLY GUY, or well, these three silly guys:

But there's four! - it looks like we have four masks but upon closer inspection I think is just three. Not only the eyes are different but also the face structure of each changes a litte bit and the last two here look identical, so I just think is a matter of actual production of the series and them having that same mask duplicated but because it has more "dripping blood" on the eyes, it doesn't look the same in both. In any way, I'm about to tell you whom is whom.

Our first Killer, "Clear Sight", is Tan.

Tan, in this theory, is New, Non's older brother.

So yes, I know, this whole plan is a revenge for what happend to his little brother, so you'll think that he would be a little bit more "passion" driven when it comes to revenge, but taking in account the other two killers... well, makes sense that the older one is the one being more focus and calculating about what they do. A "Clear Sight" amongs them. He's also the one that has poisoned the friend group, as I explain here. So yeah, cold blooded and with a plan in mind.

Which he has really well tight up with the second Killer, "Bloody Tears", since they flawlessly were able to fool us all when CS stole the motorbike from Tee but then BT pulled up with it.

So, whom is "Bloody Tears"? Say it with me class: is Phee. Yes.

His eyes are bloodshot and he's crying blood because hiswhole purpose with all of this is to avenge Non. He feels guilty over his last words to Non:

"You want me to forgive you? Just get lost and die."

He's the one being more driven by passion, by rage, by wrath. These absolute fuckers destroyed the Non he loved so dearly and he will destroy them.

So if "Clear Sight" is Tan, and "Bloody Tears" is Phee... Then whom is "Fresh Blood", our third Killer?

For the sake of this these "timeline" theory, we will go with the idea that "Fresh Blood", the masked killer with the fresh blood on its eyes and the cruch, is Non.

The obvious reason: the crutch. FB is the only one holding it, both when he appears in front of Top and when he's in the woods.

And we saw what Non was capable of three years ago when he finally snapped in front of the others, so I don't need to explain why the blood of his eyes is till fresh. He's a goner, he's fully commited to the bit, he will take all this fuckers to hell with him... including Jin.

Because Phee could spare Jin, but Non will not. And so we are down to four people by the end of these tale: White, Tan, Phee and Non.

Here is where the last movie comes into play: Mamá (2012)

Mamá is about two sisters, Victoria (f8) and Lily (f6), whom were living as feral children for five years in a remote cabin in the woods after their parents' death. They are put under the care of their uncle Lucas and his girlfriend Annabel, but when the two girls start to build a bond with Annabel, what kept them alive in the woods, Mamá, wants to take them back with her. And by the end, she almost does. On a cliff, both sisters make a choice: Victoria chooses Lucas and Annabel, and starts a new life with them; but Lily, whom loves Mamá dearly, decides to stay with her. Mamá after this, jumps off the cliff with Lily on her arms, activily killing her and turning them both into moths.

Tan is Victoria, Phee is Lily and Non is Mamá.

Phee, like Lily with Mamá, will choose Non. After all the blood they have spilled, is better to get lost in the woods than to comfront the police, honestly. They can just get lost and enjoy nature like they did when they used to visit the lake. They will just count Phee as one of the many victims these cabin has taken.

And so is Tan because he, like Victoria, will choose to live his life. But he was never Tan. He's New, and he can just let Tan die at these cabin and go back overseas as himself, leaving all of these behind...

And leaving only White as our final boy.

so yeah, those are my theories and how I think the series is going to play out, this post has taken me 3h and a half to right down, I can't feel my brain any longer dljsaldjalkjsd

[undreaming-fanfiction]

(likely a modern AU so the timeline fits)

Eddie feels so very, very torn about the Hobbit movies. He loves the music and hums "the Misty Mountains Cold" before he can catch himself, but he not very silently screams about all the crap that was added for no reason and, the bad CGI? A travesty, your honor! He glares at the screen when Legolas appears and utters "where the fuck did you come from?", he loves the casting choice for Bilbo but absolutely roasts the idiotic way that the screenwriters butchered Bilbo's relationship with the dwarves and the way it evolved.

But the thing he never forgives those movies for is that unbelievably idiotic love triangle and the way it made others tear up when Eddie's soul temporarily left his body to punch Peter Jackson. Because it DOES. NOT. MAKE. SENSE. There was no development. The flirting was bad, trust him, he knows what good flirting looks like and this ain't it. Eddie hates it with passion, especially the scene that overshadows the incredibly powerful one with Thorin's death. He is PISSED. The scene is so so SO lazy and Thrandúil did not deserve this disrespect. Shit, even the weird added ginger elf Tauriel did not deserve it. Yes, we're talking this scene:

Eddie mocks the shit out of this. He gobbles up all the memes and there is a 50/50 chance in the months after he saw the fateful scene that his contempt for it would bubble up.

"Hey Eddie," asks Steve whe he sees Eddie between moving boxes when they finally find an apartment together . "Why aren't you packing?"

And Eddie, instead of saying "I'm taking a break," clutches his chest and chokes out, "because it was real, Steve!"

When Eddie goes to buy groceries and Steve unpacks them, he notices that Eddie bought two bags of potatoes instead of one. "Why did you get two?" he asks.

Eddie rummages through his pockets and produces the receipt. "Because the discount was real!" he says with a mock sob and points at the potatoes being 30% off.

And Steve is a patient man, he really is, but when Eddie tells him that the claws were real as a response to his question why is Eddie all scratched from their cat and refuses to elaborate, he threatens that if it doesn't stop being real, he's going to get a set of the Hobbit movie posters for his side of the bedroom and proudly display them.

Eddie bitches, moans, threatens, but eventually he moves past the idiotic love triangle.

When they lie together, falling asleep, Eddie mutters into Steve's neck "I can't believe that stupid threat worked on me. Why would you even thing about something like that?"

Steve turns to him with a deadpan expression and says:

"Because it was real."

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

The Boy With The Thorn In His Side [3]

Steven Grant x F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals • Masterlist • ao3 • want to be tagged?

Series Masterlist

Summary: You squealed as he grabbed you around the waist, shifting the food to his other hand and holding it out so that it didn’t get in the way. He kissed you repeatedly, soft quick pecks on your mouth and cheeks and chin, until you were giggling uncontrollably.

After a date at the cinema you invite Steven back to yours.

A/N: It's been a hot minute. (This chapter was going to be longer, but I ended up splitting it in two.) Also shout out to @hon3yboy and their amazing series Adventure Awaits! (Tiny little reference to it here, sort of.)

Warnings: swearing, typos, kissing, dry humping, please let me know if I've missed a warning.

Word Count: 2002

________________________________

The movie was trash. But you’d known it would be. 

There hadn’t been much on that had appealed, or seemed appropriate. A horror film that was the third in the series (Steven hadn’t seen the first two), a romantic comedy (the trailer had been enough to make you want to rip your ears off), a historical drama (Steven had belittled the accuracy just from the poster, before quickly apologising to you and then grinning when he realised how hard you were laughing.), and an action film. 

You settled on the action film. 

Honestly, you were just happy to see him. 

He’d been a little scattershot, sometimes taking a few days to reply to a message. Not that you minded that much. You could be the same, and you understood the anxiety that came with replying. 

He always apologised profusely and tended to prefer calling you instead of texts. You quickly adapted your communication style, calling or face timing him. Steven didn’t always answer, but he was a lot more consistent with it. And it was always lovely to hear his voice. 

This was technically the fifth date you’d had. (Sixth if you counted the time you’d met him at work with donuts, and seventh if you counted the meal the first time you’d met.)

“The bit with the explosion though,” Steven giggled as you both walked out of the cinema. “I mean, come on? What was that?” 

“What was that?” You laughed. 

“And the dialogue, come on.”

“Terrible.”

“So terrible!”

“Though, the bit where the guy,” you mocked dramatically dying. 

Steven laughed loudly. “The best bit! It was meant to be a comedy right?” 

You giggled. “Oh definitely.”

Both of you paused as you came to the entrance lobby of the cinema. It was getting late, but you didn’t want to say goodbye to him yet. All of your previous dates had been in outside, public areas: restaurants, the Tate Modern, Greenwich Park… The furthest you’d gone is holding hands and snog. Not that that was a problem. You didn’t want to rush anything of course. 

But you’d also happily jump Steven’s bones if he asked. 

“Do you want to come back to my flat for a bit? I know it’s late.” You pulled the skin around your thumbnail nervously. “My flatmates are away for a long weekend at the moment, and there’s a really good place around the corner that does takeaway vegan pizza?” 

Were you talking too quickly? You were probably talking too quickly. But you couldn’t stop. 

“I know it’s Saturday tomorrow, I don’t know if you have work this weekend? You don’t have to stay long, I mean, my flat’s not too far from here, no pressure to or anything.”

It’s only when you finally look up at Steven that you see he’s smiling. It’s a small expression, something he’s trying to hide and not take joy in your nervousness. But he can’t help it. The countless hours he spends fretting over other people’s feelings… it’s just… nice seeing someone trouble over him. 

“That sounds great love,” he takes your hand in his and squeezes lightly as you both head to the door. 

A little heat rises to your face. “How long were you gonna let me flounder there?” 

His grin widens. “Maybe a little longer.”

“Oh, I see.” You squinted your eyes at him, pretending to be offended. 

Steven laughed, kissing your cheek and nuzzling against you for a moment until you broke into a smile. 

.

You picked up the pizzas on the way. Nervousness tiptoed along your skin as you got to your flat. Panickingly trying to remember if you’d left a mess anywhere. 

“So are you working tomorrow?” You asked as you fished around in your bag for your keys. Steven had politely offered to hold the food. 

He shook his head. “No, not in this weekend, bit of a relief actually.”

“Oh, how come?” 

“Might murder Donna if I had to see her straight after today.”

You looked up from your bag. “That bad?” 

“Nah,” he shrugged. “She just annoyed me today. Micromanaging. Badly.”

“Ugh.” You pulled a face and finally found your keys and unlocked the door, holding it open for him. 

He spoke as he walked in. “Knowing I was seeing you later on was the only thing that got me through the day honestly.” 

“Steven, stop,” you pushed him softly in the arm. 

He grinned. “Why?”

“If you keep being so lovely, I’m going to have to kiss you.”

“Oh,” he nodded, pretending to think seriously on the matter. “Okay.” 

You squealed as he grabbed you around the waist, shifting the food to his other hand and holding it out so that it didn’t get in the way. He kissed you repeatedly, soft quick pecks on your mouth and cheeks and chin, until you were giggling uncontrollably. 

He then pressed fully against you, pushing lightly at your lower back as he kissed you deeply and slowly. Opening your lips with his own and sliding his tongue into your mouth. He moaned hungrily as he licked into you as you wrapped your arms around him. 

He smiled at you, a little dopey as he broke the kiss and nuzzled his face into your neck.

“Been waiting to kiss you all day.” He sighed happily. 

You grin. “You could have kissed me earlier. You can kiss me whenever you want.” 

“I’ll have to remember that.” He muttered into your skin.

There was something dark at the very edge of his tone that made you shudder.

“You cold, love?” The way Steven’s eyebrows pinched in concern made you want to just melt into him. 

You shook your head and smiled. “I’m fine.” 

“Hmm.” He gave you a disbelieving look but didn’t press the matter. “As long as you’re sure.” He rubbed your arm with his free hand, trying to warm you up. 

You let him, unsure how to work ‘I’m not actually cold, just your voice makes me break out in goosebumps in a good way sometimes’ into the conversation. 

After managing to find a guest pair of slippers in Steven’s size and a very quick tour of your flat (the living room/kitchen were all one space, and the bathroom - you steered clear of your room) you both settled on the sofa to eat and watch a film. 

“Something we’ve both seen? For some background noise, yeah?” Steven looked through the listings while you shoved a slice of pizza into your mouth and nodded. “Oh! The Mummy!” He glanced at you excitedly, “You’ve seen The Mummy, right?” 

You grinned at his enthusiasm and nodded again. 

“A classic!” He beamed and started the film. 

You had both finished your food by the time the heroes had boarded The Sudan, and Steven’s attention had started to wander well before the boat sank. 

His arm snaked around your shoulders, his fingertips gently stroking your shoulder. You could see him out of the corner of your eye. Watching you more than he was watching the film. 

You pretended not to notice. 

He shuffled closer to you again, making a soft, sighing sound. 

It took you a minute to fight with the smile that threatened to break out onto your face before you leaned back a little into him. 

His fingers on your arm tightened. 

Languidly, he turned his head ever so slightly. His face so close to yours that his nose was nearly touching your cheek. He placed a soft kiss on your jawline. 

“Steven?”

“Hmm.” He didn’t look up, just kissed your skin again. 

“You’re not paying attention to the film.” It was impossible to keep your amusement out of your voice. 

“I know love.” His voice had that same low, dark tone from before. 

You shiver. “I thought you wanted to watch it?” 

“Found something else that captivates my attention.” He muttered, shifting in his seat so that he could turn his body completely towards yours. 

You giggle as he takes your cheek delicately in his warm hand and turns you to face him. 

He kisses you soft and slow. Teasing your bottom lip with smooth swipes of his tongue and breaking the kiss every time you try to deepen it. He leans back, his eyes hooded, watching you for the smallest second. His thumb strokes your cheek before he starts the process all over again. 

You let out a little huff of frustration. “Steven…” 

He kisses you again, pressing his body more firmly into you for a second, tilting your head up and barely licking into your mouth before pulling back. 

“Hmm?” He raises his eyebrow at you and you squirm. He knows exactly what he’s doing. 

“You’re teasing.” You grab hold of the back of his neck and force his mouth against yours. For a second you can feel the small upturn of his lips before he slips his tongue into your mouth and moans. 

He doesn’t pull back this time. 

Instead, he pushes you back until you're flat on the sofa and he’s wormed his way between your legs. His kisses leave you breathless. Giddy, dizzying emotion bubbles up in your chest and threatens to overwhelm your very being. 

You cling onto his shoulders and the curls at the nape of his neck as he kisses you deeper, needing to caress every single part of you and not settling for anything less. One hand slides down to your waist, to just gently rub at your skin over the material of your top. 

Despite being between your legs, and how easy it would be for him to grind down against you, he keeps an inch of space between your bodies where you would most like them to touch. Moving up ever so slightly whenever you buck closer to him. 

You fight with the urge to just hook your legs over the small of his back and pull him closer. You don’t want to rush him or make him feel uncomfortable but the desperate need to have him near, for his body to touch yours (even if it is over clothing) is almost too painful to deny. 

You moan against him as he licks into your mouth, his thumb on your waist just slipping under your top and sparking along your feverish skin. 

“Steven,” you whine between kisses, tugging on his shirt and trying to urge him closer.

There’s a small answering growl from deep within his chest. “Love it when you say my name like that.” He slips his tongue back into your mouth, swallowing down your response. He moves his thumb, circling your bare skin twice before pulling it back and repositioning his fingers over your clothing.

You could almost sob in frustration. Maybe, you could-

Steven breaks the kiss to move down, trailing his lips over your jaw and sucking on your pulse point. 

You gasp and buck up against him instinctively. This time he doesn’t move away. 

Your clit just grazes along the zip of his jeans, the heavy, hard outline of his cock and you whimper. 

Steven’s own accompanying sound is muffled into your neck, his flingers flinch against you and he grabs your hip with a bruising strength. Lightly he grinds down against you, a hardly there pressure as he drags his erection across your core, using a level of force that would be more akin to stroking a feather over skin. 

You moan again, a small sound you try to muffle, and Steven sucks harder on your neck just scraping his teeth along the newly forming bruise. 

You start to speak but Steven shushes you, whispering as he nips at your skin. “You’re getting distracted.” He murmurs, his voice low and like liquid as he echoes your words from earlier. “I thought you wanted to watch the film?” 

He gently turns your head to the side, so that you’re looking towards the television screen, and continues his onslaught on your neck as you gasp and whimper and writhe against him. 

Both of you continue like that for most of the film. 

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

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[cowbell-ghuleh]

More Plushia nonsense.

Copia & Terzo managed to trap the little hell spawn unfortunately Secondo doesn't quite understand the gravity of the situation.

Another one of my stupid rough comics. Proper finished artwork is in the works but I've been a bit busy this week!

The interviews and other canon stuff from the Infestissumam heavily implies Secondo is quite cruel to his ghouls and they hate him which inspired this!

Links to the other "plusia series" artwork below the cut