#So many Brendan feels

[simon-says-lots-of-things]

Y'know I was writing a whole ass essay but I think this pretty much sums up my feelings about Journey to the Center of the Earth vs Journey 2: the Mysterious Island

Journey to the Center of the Earth: gives us a scene where Trevor and Sean are allowed to cry and openly grieve for their dead brother/father without it turning into a joke at any point. This happens in front of Trevor's love interest Hannah and she says absolutely nothing, letting the two of them grieve and hug

Journey 2: the Mysterious Island: gives us a scene where Hank makes a 'no homo' joke about his 17 year old stepson. (Quote: "Don't worry, I don't sing for dudes under the stars in front of a cozy fire. It's not my style.") He then immediately does the thing anyway because "oh look, the Rock actually can sing :)"

[scullysscalpel]

If show runners don’t want fans to ship their leads together then perhaps they should stop writing characters who are absolutely fucking perfect for one another.

[foldingfittedsheets]

Truly, one of the greatest love language is someone agreeing to eat something atrocious for your benefit.

My first experience with this was in college. My friend Charlie invited me to a jazz club. One would think he’d learned his lesson. I thought nothing of this and agreed to a fun night with a guy friend. We arrived and I saw nothing romantic in the outing.

The menu at the club was very traditional date food- steak, oysters, romancey food. But still, I didn’t catch on. This food didn’t sound like what I wanted. In fact, what I wanted was a hummus plate. Charlie took this turn of events with a slight wince but ordered one for us.

The hummus plate arrived. Sitting politely on the corner of the garlic bomb was a spicy pepper. Laughing, I teasingly dared Charlie to eat it. You see, this kind of rough humor was common among buddies. I thought we were in Buddy Rules. But Charlie was operating under Date Rules; eating the pepper would be a romantic test of his bravery.

He bit the pepper.

His skin was almost as pale as mine and he went bright red instantly, tears stood in his eyes as sweat broke out across his whole body in protest. He barely managed to swallow as he began coughing, his body reflexively trying to spew forth the poison in his mouth.

I was doubled over with laughter and didn’t feel bad until a few days later when Brendan informed me it had been a date. I scoffed initially and only slowly realized Charlie had been intending it as a date. I repented the pepper and promptly dated Brendan in self defense.

Charlies act of romantic heroism went unappreciated but the spirit was there.

Many years later when I’d given up on boys I was dating my beloved wife. Together we took a trip to Taiwan. One of the wonderful things about new places is the food. I still dream about the food in Taiwan. Even the humblest train station cream puff was several orders of magnitude better than any I’ve ever had in the states.

But one place we went was like. Italian food as interpreted by Taiwanese cooks. Some of the combos were as bizarre to me as many Italians probably feel American Italian food is. Specifics escape me, but it felt like I was dreaming some of the menu at the time. At the end we decided to get a chocolate fondue, because why not. We were on vacation.

The liquid chocolate was served with all the things one would normally expect, strawberries, sweets, the usual chocolate accompaniments. And then we saw the tomatoes. Tomatoes and chocolate. We all stared at the tomatoes in horrified fascination.

Now, I hate tomatoes. I can stand a tomato sauce but raw tomatoes and I have nothing to talk about. So I knew that if I tried it I’d find it as repugnant as I’ve always found tomatoes. But I was haunted by the idea that someone who actually liked tomatoes would like tomatoes in chocolate.

My beloved loves tomatoes. And chocolate. I turned the biggest puppy dog eyes on them and begged to know if the combination was actually somehow delicious. My wife insisted that it would be heinous. Still, they speared a tomato sacrifice and coated it in chocolate, for me. For me, they ate it.

It was so wretched that their face collapsed into instant regret. But they didn’t spit it out. They knew I got sick if people spit out half chewed food. So they soldiered on and swallowed the cursed chocolate fruit.

Their devotion utterly delighted me, and even years later I adore that they suffered that tomato to reassure me that indeed, it was bad.

[clamorybus]

honestly i thought i was doing better with myself but last night i merely read the tv tropes page for the movie the whale and i broke down sobbing

[purgaytorysupremacy]

lol my long time coworker’s brother is/was an actor in Vancouver and was in two (at least) episodes of Supernatural, the major one being the boyfriend in the couple Dean saves in the scarecrow episode 💀

by the way for anyone who remembers my less than six degrees from spn cast meltdown. i asked my cousins whether their cousin named (redacted) was involved in the entertainment industry over xmas and they said no. he’s a surgeon. so i’m free from that particular burden.

[queer-frenchmermaid]

I went to watch the Whale this morning.

I AM NOT OK

[turcott3]

the set up

cole caufield x fem! reader

warnings?: alcohol, cursing, kissing, smut, unprotected sex, public sex

masterlist

-

“truth.” you spoke aloud. you were at emma’s bachelorette party, one day before the rehearsal and you were all drunk playing truth or dare like teenagers.

“i know you have a crush on one of the players, who is it?” she asks inquisitively.

“well i’ve always had a little crush on caufield.” you reply with a shrug and a light smile on your face.

“oh really?” emma giggles.

“yeah, i mean he’s just so happy all the time and he’s really handsome, how could i not like him?” you reply taking another sip of your drink.

“i mean yall would be cute honestly.” she continues, texting someone quickly on her phone.

“who ya texting?” steph asks her next to you.

“just brendan, making sure he’s not blackout drunk, you know.” she laughs, knowing the boys were also having their party today.

“oh also, i’ll have your bridesmaid and groomsmen pairings done in the morning.” emma speaks up shutting her phone off. the rest of the night was spent partying, thinking in the back of your mind that you had just admitted your crush on cole to your best friend.

-

“hello?” you groaned into the phone, a call from emma waking you up.

“did you see my text?”

“no i just woke up, i need ibuprofen before i stare at a bright screen.” you laugh lightly.

“oh did i wake you? i’m so sorry.”

“no no it’s fine, i needed to get up, ill read it in a sec.” you reply.

“okay thanks, see you in a few hours y/n!” she says.

“bye love.” you reply, ending the call and getting up, digging for your pills. you popped two before opening your phone back up to read her text. as you ran across your name you almost choked on your drink.

“cole?” you question starkly, eventually leading to a sigh.

“of course i’m with him.” you groan, now feeling pressure to look flawless to maybe impress him. you knew that you’d found him attractive for a while but you had zero clue how he felt toward you.

after many hours of getting ready and making sure your rehearsal dress was perfectly wrinkle-less, you finally were able to leave your hotel room and make your way to the rehearsal venue.

“y/n!” emma yells as you step through the door, running up to hug you.

“hope you enjoy your pairing, yall two are sitting over there for dinner.” she winks pulling away.

“you’re stressing me girl.” you laugh nervously, sitting at the small two top table by yourself. much to your demise, you didn’t get much time to prepare as cole walked into the room a mere 5 minutes later, finding his way to his seat.

“how’ve you been? i haven’t seen you in a while.” cole asks smiling.

“oh i’ve been great, how about you?” you ask, picking at your manicure.

“better now that i’m here.” he replies, turning to face the couple as they were about to speak, a blush creeping onto your cheeks.

“hey guys so, before we get to eating dinner i just wanted to go over like the order of how everything’s gonna go just so we’re all prepared for tomorrow. and i won’t be mad that it’s not perfect, it’s not supposed to be. but if we don’t have any fun whatsoever, then we’ve failed our mission of being ‘the gallaghers’ so let’s hope we can do that at least.” emma spoke loudly amongst the room. she spoke for a few minutes just running through the order of how everyone is gonna walk out, you and cole being the third “couple”.

“and one last thing, i’m not making you guys sit at separate tables, i sat you with your pairing just because i didn’t like how it looked on the seating chart so, basically you’re attached at the hip all night. sorry.” she laughs, you knew she was particular in not wanting the wedding to be old school and formal.

“you think you got that all down?” you ask, trying to make it seem like you weren’t anxious, and it was starting to work. your nerves were beginning to ease as your anxiety seemed to remember that cole wouldn’t hurt a fly.

“i think i do. and we’re about to practice so that’ll be the test.”

“i’m nervous for tomorrow though.”

“whys that?” he asks, taking a bite of the plate that was sat in front of him.

“what if i like trip on my dress or like sneeze. i’m just scared ill ruin it.” you admit.

“it’ll be fine, you’re just over thinking it.” he replies and you nod knowing he’s right.

“that reception is gonna make it worth it though.” you giggle.

“oh absolutely, that’s gonna be the best part.” he replies

“and you’ll dance with me right?” he asks, with a hopeful smile on his face.

“oh um,” you pause finishing the sip you were about to take, “yeah of course i will.”

“great, i was hoping you would.”

-

you’d spent a vast majority of the night getting to know cole, which you loved doing. he’s an easy going guy who’s very sweet and respectful, which you adored. you went to bed tonight pondering on what the day would bring the two of you. you could feel the flirting between the two of you all evening.

the next morning, you woke up feeling refreshed. you went over the details of the wedding in your head over and over until you didn’t miss a word. you grabbed onto your garment and makeup bag and fled the room, rushing to be by your best friends side as she got ready for her big day.

“so you nervous?” you ask.

“girl no, i already know im saying yes.” she laughs as she sits in the chair being dolled up by her make up artist.

“oh that’s good.” you replied unpacking your things beginning to get yourself ready with the girls. the time came quickly. it seemed like minutes passed by between the time you finished your hair to the time you were stood with the guy you’ve had a crush on for a year.

“you okay? you’re fidgety.” cole asks quietly.

“oh uh, yeah i’m okay. just nervous.” you say, his hand then softly rubbing up and down your back.

“don’t be nervous, you’re gonna be great. if you trip ill catch you. i’m here.” he replies reassuringly as you flash him a weak smile.

“thank you.”

“of course, and you look beautiful by the way.” he says before locking arms with you, prepared to walk down the aisle. you made it down without any trips and appreciated cole going the extra mile to help you up a couple of stairs. you all stood on your respective sides, admiring the couple between you, sharing occasional glances with cole from across the altar. selfishly, you couldn’t stop thinking about him and how kind he was to you just moments prior.

-

the reception started about 30 minutes ago and you’re already 3 wine glasses deep with cole. you’d been dancing for a while and finally made your way back to the table, still littered with the others. you both had grown to be decently drunk and were getting touchy with cole, which is something you wouldn’t DARE to have done about 45 minutes ago.

“cole is need to pee, will you come with me and hold my dress?” you ask, sporting proud puppy dog eyes.

“yes, come on.” he replies standing up reaching his hand out to you, you found your way to the, luckily, single stall restroom. you locked the door quickly and turn to face him.

“i actually don’t have to pee.”

“i know.”

“you do?”

“yes, you’ve been making it obvious.” he giggles.

“what do you mean obvio-“ you start and are cut off by his lips harshly on yours, but in a way you enjoy. it was a quick change in environment, the fun had subsided and all you wanted to know was how he felt buried deep inside you. you felt yourself grow wet at his hands grazing down your back and onto your ass. his lips trailed to your neck, nipping and sucking on the skin before returning back to your lips after a long moment.

“i don’t wanna ruin your make u-“ he starts.

“shut up and fuck me caufield.” you reply interrupting him, a skill you’d both acquired in the last two minutes. cutting him off. a look of shock briefly flashes across his face before a smirk takes over.

“are you sure?” he asks, his hands placed on your waist.

“what do you mean? did you not hear me?”

“no i mean are you sure you wanna do it here?”

“yes, i want you right fucking now cole, and maybe again later when you’re staying in my room with me.” you reply and he smirks, turning you around and bending you over the sink. he assists you in pulling the short train on youryour long skirt over your ass, pushing your soaked lace thong to the side.

“so wet already?” he asks dragging a quick finger through your soaked core.

“mhm.” you reply biting your lip. you looked down at his pants in the mirror as he quickly unbuttoned his dress pants, rubbing himself hard very quickly. you bit your lip as you watched him line his hard cock up with your entrance.

“nuh uh, eyes up here.” he says using his hand to push your chin back up, locking eyes with him as he ran his leaning tip through your wet folds.

“cole we have to be fast.” you complain, as if you weren’t enjoying the teasing. a sigh of relief left your mouth as he buried himself deep inside you, his tip brushing your g-spot instantly, your eyes rolling back.

“oh fuck.” you whimper, realizing you are in a very public place and have to make sure you keep your voice down. you mentally acknowledge the fact that you have no choice but to be fast in this moment, wanting to get the job done quickly. in thinking, you fucked yourself back onto him, colliding in the middle.

“god fuck-“ he grunts, placing his hands firmly on your ass cheeks, thrusting quickly, letting the fabric of your dress muffle the sound of your skin clapping.

“you’re so tight y/n.” he says, almost speeding up his already decent pace.

“oh my god cole, that’s it right there.” you whisper, tears forming in your eyes as you collapsed further over the sink. gently, he wrapped his arm around your chest pulling you up, deepening the angle of his thrusts, hitting your g-spot right on the head with each thrust.

“fucking god, i’m gonna cum.” you whine, a tear slipping from your eye.

“come on baby, cum for me. i will too yeah?” he asks with eyebrows raised in the mirror and you nod as the knot unravels in your stomach, shockwaves shooting through your body rapidly as he filled you to the brim with his milky climax, fucking you all the way through both of your highs.

“i can’t believe we just did that.” you sighed out, catching your breath.

“me either.” he chuckles behind you, pulling out slowly.

“oh fuck, here, stay right there.” he says observing the mess he made between your legs. he grabs a few sheets of toilet paper, carefully wiping you clean, tossing them in the toilet and pulling your panties back over your core.

“my eyes.” you groan looking in the mirror.

“let me see.” he replies and you turn around. he licks his fingers to fix the smudges under your eyes and around your lips, dabbing the sweat off your forehead with a paper towel.

“do i look okay?” you ask, pulling the dress back down.

“just as gorgeous as before.” he replies, readjusting his pants, making sure everything’s in straight.

“okay you ready?” he asks holding onto the door knob.

“wait hold on, can i ask you something?”

“yeah of course.”

“will you come stay with me tonight? like in my room?” you ask boldly, the buzz beginning to wear off.

“if that’s okay, yes of course i will.”

“it’s more then okay.” you smile lightly, wrapping your arms around his neck, pressing a firm kiss to his lips.

“good, then i can fuck you right.” he mumbles on your lips, kissing you again.

“woah fuck y/n i’m sorry.” he says as you pull away.

“what what’s wrong?” you reply nervously and he turns you by your hips to the mirror, using his hand to turn your head to the side, exposing the dark hickey he left on your neck.

“honestly, it’s fine, really.”

“are you sure?”

“yes cole it’s fine, and besides you’ll be littered in them tomorrow morning.” you wink, kissing him one last time as you turn the doorknob. he grabs your short dress train of the floor, carrying it as you walked out of the bathroom. you hear a chuckle a few feet away from you, realizing nick was standing there and definitely watched the two of you enter the bathroom.

“emma!” you shout as cole lets go of your dress, taking your hand as you jogged over toward her.

“we’ve been looking for you.” emma replies with a smirk on her face.

“oh uh, i just had to go to the bathroom and there was a line.”

“yep mhm, a line.” she laughs, turning your chin to the side, high fiving her husband.

“what?” you ask.

“bitch, what do you mean what? yall just fucked in true bathroom at my wedding and now you’re holding hands. oh brendan we have outdone ourselves.”

“what?”

“girl, i put you with him so that THIS would happen. nick was our spy, great help.”

“you wanted us to fuck at your we-“

“well that isn’t EXACTLY what we had in mind, i was thinking like a kiss during a slow dance on the floor but this? this is fucking gold.” she laughs hugging you, as you stood confused as ever.

“so this was a set up?” you scoff.

“well, yes.” brendon pokes in.

“thanks gally.” cole laughs, a soft hand wrapping around your hip.

“now yall go have fun.” emma says waving the two of you off.

-

“what a night.” you sigh, collapsing into your bed, cole right beside you.

“yes for real, we really got set up.”

“i’m not mad about it.” you reply.

“me either, i’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while.”

“why didn’t you, i’ve had a crush on you for like a year.” you laugh.

“yeah well, now we fucked in a bathroom at a wedding, i’d say that is quite the stride.” he smiles widely at you.

“i’m fucking exhausted. i would totally love to stay up and fuck all night but i feel like maybe we should sleep it off and then maybeeeeeeee fuck all morning?” you giggle.

“whatever you want baby.” he smiles, his thumb grazing over your cheek lightly, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips

“god you make it so hard not to just wanna fuck you like a damn bunny right fucking now.” you say and he busts out laughing.

“let’s go to sleep, come on love.” he says tucking the two of you under the covers.

“we can fuck like bunnies in the morning okay?”

“okay.” you pout, poking your bottom lip out.

“goodnight pretty girl.” he says softly.

“good night pretty boy.” you smile as he presses a light kiss to your nose.

-

[aniseandspearmint]

congrats to the articles author and editors, who managed to keep any and all personal feelings out of the tone of this! I don't think I could have done the same.

tl;dr is that trump and his bestie brendan carr, one of the authors of project 2025 are taking aim at one of the only forms of free journalism america has, npr and pbs.

he's going for the angle that they are breaking the law by running commercials, which is going to fail because they legally do NOT run commercials, but as with so many current attacks on democracy and freedom of press and speech happening right now in america, this is clearly designed to wear us all out as they throw as many attacks as they can, to see what they can slip through while we're trying to stop everything.

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Anywhere Else Is Hollow - No Love Love Halloween Bonus Chapter

Series Masterlist

Read on A03!

Author's Note: There are so many pop-culture references in here, I'm so sorry. Title from willow by Taylor Swift.

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary/Warnings: A halloween special episode! Takes place in Chapter 25. Usual warnings.

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, canon divergence, tooth-rotting fluff, pre-established relationship

“It’s the middle of fucking June.” Ben grumbles, adjusting his suspenders and glaring at his reflection. “And I still don’t see why I can’t just wear my damn supe suit-“

You grab his shoulders, turning him to face you and moving his hands off the straps for you to fix. “So you admit,” you grin up at him. “Your supe suit is a costume.”

Ben rolls his eyes. “Shut the fuck up, people dress as me all the goddamn time-“

“But you are you. The whole point of this is that you’re not you.”

“Well, I don’t want to be this fucking pussy-“

“Rick O’Connell is not a pussy, he was my very first crush and an excellent treasure hunter. He’s like Indiana Jones, but with no commitment to academics.” 

“Well then why the fuck can’t I be Indiana Jones-“

“Because you don’t have any commitment to academics, and you’re built more like late 90s Brendan Fraser.” You run your hand through Ben’s hair, holding his glower with a fake pout. “I think you look very handsome.”

“I always look fucking handsome,” he mutters, catching your hand and kissing your knuckles. “This is still goddamn stupid.”

“If you want to go tell Ryan that-“

Your hum is cut off with a squeak as Ben tugs you forward, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing you until you’re a little dizzy, swaying against him.

“Brat.” He presses another, lighter kiss on the corner of your lips, smirking as you chase his mouth back fully onto yours. “I’m going to do this shit, for you-“

“For me?” You raise your brows, pulling back enough to give Ben a pointed look. “Or for the blowjob and ice cream you’re going to earn for not being a massive fucking baby about this.”

He shrugs. “It’s a blowjob from you, beautiful. And if you’re going to wear this-“ He cuts himself off, scanning over you with a frown. “What the fuck is this.”

“A costume-“

The lines of Ben’s face deepen, and he rolls his eyes. “No, smartass. Who are you.”

“Evelyn Carnahan.”

“Who-“

“She’s your,” you poke Ben’s chest, and keep your face bright as you push through the description. You’d really been hoping he wouldn’t ask who you were, because you know he loves you, but it still might make you cry if he gets pissed off or freaked out by this. “Wife.”

He just blinks at you. “I’m not married yet-“

“No, dummy.” You sigh. “In the movies. Your costume is married to my costume.”

There’s a moment of silence, and it’s the longest fucking moment of your life. Ben is staring at you, looking slightly dumb-struck, and everything inside him is glowing and burning and made of ardor, but if he doesn’t fucking say something-

“If you give me a blowjob in this costume,” he mutters, scanning over your body as an insufferably attractive, cocky grin crosses his face. “I’ll jump off a fucking bridge for you.”

You flush, all of Ben’s hunger making you feel warm and high, but still manage to wrinkle your nose at him. “I don’t need you to jump off a bridge for me, Benjamin. Just don’t bitch and moan, and pretend you’re having a little fun.”

“We can stay here, and have plenty of fun in these stupid fucking outfits-“ 

“Nope.” You push off his chest, and stick out your tongue. “Earn it, Pretty Boy.” 

Ben's face falls into an almost adorable pout, but he lets you tangle his hand in yours, pulling him out of your room and apartment, down to the dining hall. 

You will admit, this whole thing is a little ridiculous. It is in fact the middle of June, but Ryan’s never had a Halloween before, and who knows what the fuck your life will look like come October. Best case scenario, two Halloweens in one year. Worst case- 

You don’t even want to think about the worst case. The worst case is world-ending, heartbreaking, and keeps you up in the dark with nightmares of cold, blue eyes and red hands that might be yours and might be Homelander’s wrapping around your throat. 

So this might be a little stupid, but you don’t care. It’s a distraction, it’s not like you have anything better to do while everyone is benched. You might as well entertain this request from Ryan, and pretend it’s October, and just have simple fun for one night, like the world isn’t ending around you. 

Bonus, Ben does look really fucking good. He’s right, he always looks good—it’s one of the most annoying things about him—but it’s a little insane right now. If it wasn’t for Ryan, and the promise you’d made to attend the party, you’d have taken him up on that stay here and have fun idea. But for now, you’re still allowed to look. Scan over his broad shoulders, his muscles rippling in his shirt, and you want to pull him down by his suspenders to kiss him all over his stupid, handsome face, and he’d trimmed his beard last night so it’s soft and fuck you love him and it’s driving you out of your mind- 

You almost trip as Ben stops outside the dining hall—you hadn’t even realized you’d arrived—and his arm shoots out, wrapping around you and steadying your body. 

“Careful, Sunshine.” He grumbles, not moving away as you regain your balance. “You said no blood, and that fucking counts you.” 

You wrinkle your nose at him. “It does not-“ 

“Yes, it does.” Ben’s snap is firm, his big, warm hand squeezing your waist. “You get hurt, we leave. Got it?” 

“Fine.” 

His eyes narrow, and he bends down to your eye level. Try again. 

I’ve got it, Ben draws back up, and you lower your voice between your heads to a mumble. You massive fucking cunt- 

He snorts, scooping you up into his arms, swallowing your small yelp with a kiss. Brat. Ready? 

Put me down, you whack Ben’s chest, and he knows you don’t mean it—the asshole is big and warm and this is the safest place in the world so you never want to be anywhere but here— because his glower doesn’t waver. 

If you’re going to fucking hurt yourself- 

I’m not going to hurt myself, Benjamin. You drop your head onto his shoulder, giving him your sweetest smile. You won’t let me. 

Damn right I won’t, he scans over your face, and slowly lowers you back down, keeping his hand in yours. Let’s get this shit over with. 

The decorating of the dining hall is abysmal. Frenchie had spray painted some bats on the walls—which had to be some kind of health hazard, but you were all way past that—and Annie had covered exactly three tables in spooky-themed cloth, but that was the extent of the efforts. Everyone seemed to be trying to make up for it with costumes, though. Even Butcher was dressed up. Granted, he did mostly just look like himself with no shirt, but it only took one assessing scan of his black trench coat, sunglasses, and gun to figure out what he was going for. 

“Terminator?” You ask as you and Ben approach the drink table—two bottles of sprite someone put red food-coloring in and a bowl of punch that you really hope Frenchie didn’t spike—and Butcher nods. 

“Right on the money, Love.” He scans you over with a frown. “Fuckin hell are you supposed to be.” 

“Evie, from the Mummy.” 

Butcher's eyes turn to Ben. “And that makes this cunt-“ 

“Rick.” Ben grunts, tugging you a little closer to his side, his glare on Butcher a very obvious, violent challenge. 

No blood, Benjamin. 

I haven’t done a fucking thing- 

It’s a preemptive no blood. If Butcher’s a dick, no killing him. 

Butcher opens his mouth, a mocking grin covering his face and Ben tenses at your side, but with either the best or worst timing in the world, MM walks thoughtlessly between them to the table. 

MM glances over to you and Ben as he pours a drink. “The Mummy?” 

“Yeah, and you’re-“ 

“Dread Pirate Roberts.” Ben’s voice is so confident that the look of exasperation on MM’s face almost makes you snort. 

“I’m Zorro, motherfucker.” 

Butcher takes in MM’s mask and black cloth outfit, and shakes his head. “Nah, I’m with Soldier Boy on this one, Mate. You’re a fuckin pirate.” 

“Lucky it’s not up to you assholes, it’s my costume-“

Ben squeezes your hand as Butcher and MM devolve in further argument, and when you glance up at him his attention is fixed on the food table. I’m fucking starving- 

Go eat, then. 

You’d meant for him to go get food and come back, but Ben pulls you with him as he stomps over to the food, only dropping your hand when he realizes he needs both to fill up his plate. 

Why are these hot dogs so fucking small. 

You follow his glare to the table, and bite your tongue to stifle your giggle. They’re pigs in a blanket. And you’ve definitely had them before 

Ben ignores the second half of your sentence. Are they good. 

I think you’d like them- 

That’s all it takes, and Ben’s plate becomes half covered pigs in a blanket. He drops down onto one of the empty tables—watching you carefully until you sit at his side—and then begins to stuff them into his face until his cheeks are puffed out. 

You can’t look at him or you’ll snort—which means he’ll probably glare at you, which will make you laugh more, and it will somehow end with Ben fucking you on the table, in front of everyone—so you scoot closer to his side and wave to Kimiko as she walks into the dining hall, wearing large yellow skirt and blue top, a large red bow in her hair. 

Snow White? You sign, and she nods with a wide smile.  

Frenchie sewed it for me. She spins around before sitting across from you. He’s coming, he wants to fix his cape. 

His cape? 

He’s something called a Frodo. Kimiko glances at Ben, still chewing, and back to you. Is he okay, he looks angry… Kimiko’s hands pause for a second. Angrier. Than usual. 

He’s grumpy. You shrug. And that’s just his face whenever he eats. He’s like a mean old dog. 

You love him so much. 

“What are you talking about,” Ben grumbles, crumbs falling onto his beard. You sigh, reaching up to wipe them off. 

“Don’t speak with your mouth full-“ 

“Answer my fucking question-“ 

“We were talking about you, Benjamin.” You hum. “And how grumpy you are.” 

“I’m not fucking grumpy-“ 

“You’re so grumpy.” You kiss his cheek, and feel rough affection spark in his chest, his scowl wavering. “And I still love you.” 

“I love you too,” Ben mutters, pressing his leg to yours and returning his attention his food, eating slightly slower. 

You resume your conversation with Kimiko, and give up on explaining what a Frodo is when Frenchie drops at Her side, giving a proud, sweeping gesture to his costume. 

“Good, non? Certainly much better than Butcher only taking off his shirt-“ 

“The fuck are you, an elf?” 

Frenchie frowns at Ben, “I am Frodo fucking Baggins. See,” he raises his bare foot up for you and Ben to see. “No shoes. A hobbit.” 

Ben makes a sour face, opening his mouth to say something that’s likely not very nice, so you punch him in the stomach. 

He doesn’t flinch, but shoots you a glare. I didn’t fucking do anything- 

You were going to call Frenchie’s costume stupid.  

It is fucking stupid. He’s wearing a cape, Sunshine, that’s dumb- 

I know, but it’s the costume. Let’s move, Pretty Boy, before you yell at Kimiko for wearing a dress when she’s Snow White. 

Ben paused. Why the fuck is she Snow White. I’ve seen her bash peoples brain in- 

She says because she wants to take a nap and likes animals and music.  

Ben seems to accept that answer, his glare turning to his empty plate, and tugs you up with him as he stands. “You promised me burgers-“ 

“I did not.” You let him loop his arm through yours, but hold him at the table. “I said Benjamin, if you want to grill burgers, I’m still banned from using the grill but I’ll sit with you.” 

He pauses, looking back to the half empty food table before grunting, “Do you want a burger.” 

You give him an amused look. “Do you want a burger?” 

“Of course I want a fucking burger-“ 

“Then sure, I’ll have one-“ 

You’re cut off with a slight squeak as Ben starts to move, yanking you to his side without breaking pace, but slinging his arm over your shoulders and half holding you against him until you’re on steady feet. 

When you reach the grill Ben helps you up onto the counter—keeping one hand steady on your thigh until you’re settled—and begins to move around, prepping the grill with an almost violent focus.  

He’s barely started when you see Ryan—bright eyes and dressed in a droopy white tunic and loose pants—bouncing over to you, a very sheepish Hughie-Mario and smiling Annie-Samus behind him. 

Ryan says your name, and Ben glances up, movements slowing as he very obviously eavesdrops. “Look!” Ryan gestures to his outfit. “I’m Luke Skywalker!” 

“Yeah, you are.” You nod, returning Ryan’s smile and glancing over him to Hughie. “No lightsaber, dude?” 

Hughie raises his hand that isn’t holding Annie’s to display a blue plastic lightsaber, and frowns at it. “It’s the wrong color, but it lights up, and blue is still a Jedi color. Actually, blue was originally supposed to be Luke’s lightsaber color, but green tested better-“ 

“Fuck yeah it did,” Ben mutters, returning to your side with his arms full of frozen packaged hamburgers.  “Blue’s a fucking dogshit, pussy color-“ 

You kick his thigh, keeping your eyes on Ryan. “But a good color for a lightsaber, right Benjamin?” 

Ben rolls his eyes, but grumbles an agreement. 

“Are you making burgers?” Ryan shuffles to Ben’s side, looking over the grill with wide eyes. 

“Grilling.” Ben grunts. “I don’t make the paddies, kid, I fucking grill them.” 

“Can you, um, can you show me how?” 

You watch them carefully as Ben freezes, his whole body tensing and his grip on the spatula growing white-knuckled for only a second before the whole thing passes, and he nods. “Pay attention, because I’m not repeating anything. And no fucking lightsabers near my grill.” 

You don’t bother teasing him with the fact that it’s not Ben’s grill, it’s everyone’s grill, because Ryan’s eyes light up and that’s what this was about. Ryan feeling cared about, and watching Ben move around and nodding along with his instructions before tentatively flipping a burger, all with an eager face. It was about how when they finished Ryan shuffled up to you with the burger Ben had let him grill himself, nervously asking if you wanted it.  

You’d never taken a plate so fast. But when you start to scoot off the counter Ben’s hand lands on your thigh, holding you in place.

Benjamin- 

He ignores your voice in his head, his attention focused purely on Ryan. “Where do you want to eat, kid?” 

“Um,” Ryan swallowed, his face a little red. “Here? It’s quiet-“ 

Ben’s hand slid up your leg, moving you a little further back onto the counter as he leaned against it himself, looping his arm around your waist as he places his plate down, holding the burger with his free hand as he examines Ryan with a drawn brow. “You need a chair.” 

Ryan blinked. “No, thank you. It’s okay to eat here?” 

“I don’t give a fuck-“ 

“Yes, we can.” You lean yourself against Ben’s back, smiling at Ryan as you kicking Ben’s leg in a subtle movement to shut him up. “Are you liking fake-Halloween?” 

Ryan nods, face eager once more. “Yeah! The costumes are, um, really fun, and Butcher said I can have extra dessert-“ 

Ben freezes mid bite of his burger, roughly swallowing the food in his mouth before grunting, “do you not get fucking candy.” 

“No, Aunt Grace says it’s not good for my teeth-“ 

“Fuck that, your teeth with be fine.” Ben glares around the kitchen before jerking his head to a cabinet. “There’s a damn year’s worth of chocolate in there. Take some.” 

“I, um-“ 

“Ryan.” Ben snaps, holding Ryan’s nervous gaze. “You want chocolate, eat some fucking chocolate. You can’t get cavities, and if Mallory and Butcher get fucking whiny about it, I’ll deal with it.” 

“Okay.” Ryan mumbles, glancing over at the cabinet. “Will anyone notice-“ 

“It’s Kimiko’s,” Ben mutters, tugging you a little closer. “She told me, and we’re the only ones that know about it. You’re good, kid, don’t lose your fucking mind over something so stupid.” 

As Ryan shuffles over to the cabinet—looking back to you and Ben with a bright, shocked face at the truly abominable amount of chocolate in the cabinet—you bump Ben’s shoulder with yours. 

What did you threaten Kimiko with to know about her secret chocolate stash? 

Ben rolls his eyes. She fucking told me, Sunshine. For you.  

Oh. You blink, titling your head at him. Why didn’t she tell me? 

I don’t fucking know, maybe she knew you’d fold and tell whoever looked sad- 

I would not fold-

Ben scoffs. You’d fold in a fucking second. Those pussies would have a bad day and you’d start handing chocolate like goddamn candy. 

It is candy, Benjamin. You wrinkle your nose at him, nodding over to Ryan. And you just folded pretty fucking fast yourself-

Shut up. 

Nope, you caved without Ryan even asking- 

Ben’s arm around you tugs you forward into a slow, gentle kiss. Brat. 

Cunt. You pull back, smiling at him. I love you, you massive fucking idiot-

You love my massive fucking something, darling. Ben winks at you, and you only get to flush as Ryan returns, his pockets stuffed and overflowing with chocolate. 

You’re here for another few hours. You think you could spend a lifetime here, listening to Ryan tell you about how Hughie had helped him get his Luke Skywalker costume right—the key is the shoes, and you have no idea what that means but Ryan sounds certain, so you nod—and watching Ben swallow his grumbles about how Star Wars is fucking dumb as cock for Ryan’s sake. You really hope you make it to this October, and the one after that, and the one after that. You want to spend a lifetime like this, with Ryan’s face full of joy and his words coming out easy instead of unsure. With Ben half wrapped around you, his outfit and face and everything making your brain go a little haywire. If October comes without pain, Ben will be wearing that again. And you’ll have more time to have fun with him—and his mouth, and his tongue, and his rough hands on your body and his hard cock wherever he wants it—before doing this again. Next time, you’ll get Ryan more candy, and a properly colored lightsaber.  

And if another year passes, this could be your whole life. A hundred more Halloweens—probably more, given the whole immortality thing—with Ben looking stupidly handsome at your side and everything being about easy, simple joy. And when you look at Ben’s stoic face and feel his love—hot and zealous and focused in your chest—you don’t think he’d argue with you. He’d be just as happy as you are to do this forever, together, maybe joined by more bright-eyed children he can teach to grill and give too much chocolate. Countless costumes for him to grumble are stupid, but wear nonetheless.  

It would be really nice to have a life like this. 

End Note: I spent an embarrassing amount of time choosing everyone's costumes, but I think I nailed it. Jensen Ackles playing Soldier Boy dressed as Rick O'Connell from the Mummy save me. Save me Jensen Ackles playing Soldier Boy dressed as Rick O'Connell from the Mummy.

If you like this story, reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

If you want to be tagged, just ask!

Taglist

@manicjk @lordofthunderthr @artemys-ackles @brtodd

[nancy-xx]

Nancy and Sid

The Chelsea was a rather appropriate setting for the events of last week, which culminated in the arrest of Sid Vicious on a charge of murdering his girlfriend Nancy Spungen. When Swedish writer Stina Lindberg stayed there a couple of weeks ago, she was not surprised to find Sid and Nancy as fellow guests Naturally, she sought an interview...

SID VICIOUS Ex-Sex Pistol

Nancy Spungen, his girl friend. There's no mistaking Sid's black, spiky hair and his bovverboy aura. I only see the back of Nancy's head. She looks like an old woman. Hunchbacked. Tufts of almost white hair stick out from underneath her beret. Her coat is an ancient, ankle-length article. It's a Saturday, September 31.1 spot then in the lobby of the Chelsea Hotel on West 23d Street in New York. If you find yourself living at the same hotel as Sid Vicious, if you're a journalist and you like the new wave, you're an idiot not to try to talk to him. But it feels weird. The same evening, I see Sid play with ex-members of the New York Dolls at Max's Kansas City, haven of New York punks. Sid screams, makes faces, and spits. Grabs himself between the legs, doesn't look at the audience at all. They're all awkward on stage, the volume is insupportable, and the music is lousy. The paing audience is less than warm. The only ones enjoying the show are three pale peroxide blondes with fire-engine red lipstick sitting on the stage moving with the music. They're with the guys in the band, Sid seems to want to pack it in after three numbers, and splits. Nancy runs after him and brings him back. He spits, makes another face and starts playing again. He doesn't get through to the audience, and his half-hearted spasms just look pathetic. A lone, doped-out Japanese bops away frantically, but the rest of the audience is frozen. Sid is not a great musician, nor is he a genuine stage personality. Sid is a 21-year-old Englishman enlarged to the size of a Colossus by the mass media. Poor bastard. I ring Sid's room repeatedly to try for that interview. Finally he answers and agrees to talk to me the same evening. At nine p.m. I knock on his door. Room 100, ane flight up at the Chelsea Hotel. The hotel is the first New York building to have a cultural preservation order stamped on it. Brendan Behan, Dylan Thomas, Janis Joplin, Andy Warhol and many other artists and musicians have lived here. These days, there's a motley blend of prostitutes, pop musicians, near-destitute pensioners, French film teams and tourists. The door is yanked open. Nancy all but draga me into the room. Sid leaps up from the bed. He's wearing orange overalls and a chain around his neck. He checks me out nervously, then runs about the room, digging in his clothes and bags Nancy, dressed in a black net leotard and black leather trousers, holds my arm, hard, and babbles "What are we going to do? We don't know a thing. We just got to New York and don't know the score. Is five too much?" Sid searches nervously for something. The room is both bare and disordered. There's a big bed with a TV at the foot of it. A desk, a table, a chair. Two or three gold records are propped against the wall, and there are suitcases on the floor. Sid and Nancy have just changed rooms. The mattress caught fire in the other one. Suddenly I get it. They think I'm a dealer. God. I swallow, then explain who I am. Sid explodes a groan and throws himself onto the bed "Fuck' sighs Nancy. She lets go my arm and lies down with Sid. The TV drones on at maximum volume. I sit on the edge of the bed, laughing at the absurdity of everything. Sid points out that there's nothing to laugh at. I turn on my tape recorder "What do you think of New York?" "Very democratic. Do pretty much what you want. Not that you'd probably do anything much, but that's beside the point" turns out that Sid is trying to put together a band. It "I had a group going. Johnny Thunders. But Nancy smashed up Johnny's girl, so it went down the drain "Did you?" I asked Nancy. " "Yeah. She fed a lot of stupid stuff to me. I've been friends with Johnny Thunders for years. We had a lot of fun. And she couldn't take it. She started it, so I kicked her in the face," So Sid's looking for a new group, and plays with the ex-Dolls in the meantime We talk about the show at Max's Sid blames the audience, "My name's worth quite a bit of bread over here," he said.

"Isn't that because of the Sex Pistols? "No My name's worth a lot on it's own. It's worth more than any of the rest of them." Nancy agrees, and points out that Sid has had more press than any of the others. "Why?" "Because I'm what people call a bad boy. I do things that are outrageous,' he says, with what sarcasm he can muster. "Do you think that you're outrageous?" "No, but that's what they write about me. They're square "Do you think you're a free person?" "No. I'm on house arrest" "Who put you there?" "The world. But I'm going to try to get us free. I won't be able to do it, but if people get the idea for long enough, the idea that punk started off, it'll become like that eventually." We talk about punk's anti-racist side, and about Rock Against Racism, which Sid says he supports, and about England, which Sid reckons is the most boring country in the world-after Sweden, where I come from. America is okay. Sid Vicious is okay, and is doing fine However, the Sid Vicious I see in front of me seerns anything but. He and Nancy make me think of two animals caught in a trap and trying to claw their way. Desperately. out I ring the next day, and speak to Nancy. She doesn't seem to understand me, and thinks I'm trying to put her and Sid down. I tell her she's paranoid, but ask her for an interview. She seems to break down, and suddenly sounds genuine "It's not so strange that we get suspicious. Everybody's trying to get at us, trying to get Sid's money. Every bastard we meet wants to get famous through Sid. They've made a fortune off him here in the U.S., but we don't get anything. I'm a person, you dig? Not a dog" I ask her again about an interview, but she freaks when I say I can't pay her. "You think you can speak to us free?" suddenly she's hard-boiled again and go back to Sweden and make money because you met Sid Vicious? Get fucked!" I begin to see their dilemma. They think they can go on living off their fame, while they're in the process of buming out. Sid and Nancy sense that, I felt. What they didn't know was that the Swedish papers would pay more than any of us thought at the time because someone,   maybe Sid, stuck a knife into Nancy a week after I met them Sid's under real arrest. Nancy's dead. And the pop industry and mass media hysteria are doing okay.

[safety-pin-punk]

Punk History Resources: Vol 2

This is a compilation of resources found and recommended by various alternative bloggers, each of whom are credited for their contributions. This started because I was getting SO MANY asks about resources such as videos, books, and websites to use to learn about punk history. Admittedly, my own list wasn't that long, so I thought it was best to reach out to some others and share their knowledge with everyone. Now, I'm hoping to make this an annual occurrence, where we all share our knowledge with each other. So thank you again to everyone who helped out with this!!

Link to Volume 1

@whatamibutabutteredcroissant @unfriendlybat @ghost--in-a-machine @mushroomjar

YOUTUBE:

Part 1 of The Decline of Western Civilization (It recieved mixed reception from people in the scene) (whatamibutabutteredcroissant)

Part 3 of The Decline of Western Civilization (Focuses on the gutter-punks of 90s LA) (whatamibutabutteredcroissant)

BOOKS:

Some Wear Leather Some Wear Lace by Andi Harriman and Marloes Bontje (It's mostly goth/horror rock/post punk/deathrock but I feel like it's adjacent enough for it to merit a read) (unfriendlybat)

Spray Paint the Walls: The Story of Black Flag by Stevie Chick (whatamibutabutteredcroissant)

Kids of the Black Hole: Punk Rock in Postsuburban California by Dewar Macleod (whatamibutabutteredcroissant)

We Got the Neutron Bomb: The Untold Story of L.A. Punk by Marc Spitz and Brendan Mullen (whatamibutabutteredcroissant)

Left of The Dial: Conversations with Punk Icons by David Ensminger (whatamibutabutteredcroissant)

The Art of Darkness: The History of Goth by John Robb (A comprehensive history of Goth) (whatamibutabutteredcroissant)

Punk Zines by Eddie Piller and Steve Rowland (whatamibutabutteredcroissant)

The High Desert by James Spooner ( A graphic novel memoir of how the authro came into the scene) (ghost--in-a-machine)

Let Fury Have The Hour by Antonio D'Ambrosio (About the band The Clash) (anonymous submission)

MOVIES / DOCUMENTARIES:

Masque (A 10 minute doc about the Masque club in LA) (whatamibutabutteredcroissant)

ARTICLES:

History of Anarcho-Punk and Peace Punk (mushroomjar)

Late 80s and Early 90s Puerto Rico Hardcore Punk (mushroomjar)

The Jewish History of Punk (mushroomjar)

Japan's Impact on Punk Culture (mushroomjar)

The Forgotten Story of Pure Hell, America's First Black Punk Band (mushroomjar)

The Black Punk Pioneers Who Made Music History (mushroomjar)

Why Poly Styrene is Punk's Great Lost Icon (mushroomjar)

Alternative to Alternatives: The Black Grrrls Riot Ignored (mushroomjar)

Abandoning The Ear? Punk and Deaf Convergences Part II (mushroomjar)

Race, Anarchy, and Punk Rock: The Impact of Cultural Boundaries Within The Anarchist Movement (mushroomjar)

Street Medic Handbook (safety-pin-punk)

ZINES:

Sticking To It (safety-pin-punk)

So You Say You Want An Insurrection (safety-pin-punk)

All Power To The People (safety-pin-punk)

How to Survive a Felony Trial: Keeping Your Head up through the Worst of It (safety-pin-punk)

Collectives: Anarchy Against The Mass (safety-pin-punk)

Social War on Stolen Native Land: Anarchist Contributions (safety-pin-punk)

A Civilian's Guide to Direct Action (safety-pin-punk)

Critical Thinking as Anarchist Weapon (safety-pin-punk)

Security Culture: A Handbook for Activists (safety-pin-punk)

Betrayal: A Critical Analysis of Rape Culture in Anarchist Subcultures (safety-pin-punk)

ETC:

The Anarcho-Stencilism Subreddit (people upload stencils for others to use for free) (mushroomjar)

I would love to make a Vol. 3 post next year, so if you have resources and want to share, PLEASE message me!! (Preferably DMs)

[writingoddess1125]

Nerdy S/O 🎮 📖 🧛

The guys and their uniquely nerdy S/Os who they love!

Soap 🧼, Ghost 👻 , König 👑 x GNREADER

Soap + Cosplayer 🧛

• Johnny had met you when you were both at a bar, You typically werent too into the bar scene but it had lead you to meet the man of your dreams.

• Afterall who could resist that Scottish Charm?

• It had been 3 years of bliss shared between the two of you-

• Johnny knew from the beginning you were- quite the Nerd. He found it cute however! Even if he didn't understand it fully-

• Often getting back from deployment in the nice flat the two of you shared to see you dancing around listening to music while stitching some sort of fabric together.

• Johnny spent hours with you, Enjoying the craft of building your costumes and often wanting to join in the fun. Even if he knew nothing of the media this was involved in.

• "What is this costume for again?" He asked setting down the freshly cut foam to the side while you glued your peices down on some fabric-

• "This my Darling is a costume from the 1999 Mummy with Brendan Fraser" You say cheerfully as you stitch the costume.

• "Movie?-" He questions and you comfirm "Movie-"

• Will eventually start watching the Movies and TV shows with you. And gets really really into them as well- Turns into a big fantasy guy

• "Love- I want to cosplay with you at the next convention.. I wanna be a elf" He said shyly

• You damn near cry at this and hug him "Oh Honey I've waited to hear those words!"

• "I need to do the inseam-" You mumbled as you measured inbetween the man's leg to get the measurment.

• Will definitely want to roleplay in the bedroom. Feels like it has opened a new door for him and is more then excited-

• Comes in dressed like Han Solo with a wide grin- Fake gun and all on his hip as you laid on the bed in your own costume. "I do believe that you ruined my last smuggling trip- Sorry darling but you'll be paying for that another way"

• Will show you and his costumes off when he visits friends on base. Showing the last convention the two of you went to together- if anyone gives him shit he has no issue punching them.

Simon + Book Nerd 📖

• You and Simon had been married for years, the famed Lieutenant knowing from when he first met you that you were a book fiend

• It was a major part of you- And one he adored

• Simon was quite the reader himself but truthfully not as deep as you. Havibg seen you so engrossed in stories before that you forgot to eat.

• But books were also how you showed love.

• "Love, I know this is a long deployment for you.. so I want to send these with you so you don't get bored" You say softly, holding up a 3 book series to your husband as he prepared for his job.

• Of course he accepted and read them while on his missions.

• Enjoys whatever you give him, be it fantasy, sci-fi, historical fiction or what have you. He will always read them through and even take a note so he can talk to you about them later.

• Will also love when you read outloud to him

• "Honey I just got this series I want you to check out" You called out excitedly as you rush to your husband who is watching his Football (Soccar) game and sees you holding the collectors box. Calmly mutes the TV and gestures for you to sit and read out loud to him the new book.

• He had built you a library and Many shelves to store your hoard of books and got you a special couch to sit in and read.

• Does have a deep appreciation for Spicy Books and will happily warm up to prepare for your want to experiment.

• He had gotten you the book 'Den of Vipers' and had heard from the book store owner it was a spicy one- so he waited.. It took a few hours but you came into the bedroom flushed face. Simon having already stretched and was ready-

• He also knew about your fanfiction even if you were embarrassed and secretive about it. Occasionally you'd let him read over your work, which he would appreciate and genuinely enjoy the stories.

• Also will grab books while he is on his deployments or secretly read your fics on his phone.

• Buring a Mission he is stuck in a book store, as he is ready for the attack he spots one of the fantasy books you had wanted that had sold put before you got your little hands on it... so he slips it into the vest of his armor and goes on with his mission.

• Saved him 50£ anyway-

König + Gamer 🎮

• When you and König start dating he is a bit surprised by you playing video games.

• He was taught it was something children do- so to see his Partner playing is a big surprise for him.

• However you help him open his eyes to the media and introduce him to the fun interactive stories and escapism that video games help you with.

• This peaks his interest and ask to join your gaming adventure.

• "Schatz are you sure about this?" He ask softly as you get him to play some Mario Kart 8. He's nervous at first but after a round his competitive spirit comes out and gets very good quickly- Cheering loudly as he wins and gets first place.

• After this a massive gaming room is built in his home for the two of you to share. König now understanding why you love games so much and supports you hobby fully.

• Even if it's a very expensive one.

• The two of you having funny cute arguments over the games subtitles or language.

• "I want it in German with English subtitles so I can practice" You wine as König shakes his head- "Liebling I want English with German subtitles"

• This often ending with the two of you giggling together over it and a passionate session between the two of you.

• Will support you wanting to decorate the home with some gamer merchandise and even gets his own to throw in there.

• Will eventually start playing some other games without you. Something to help him relax and take his mind off things-

• Mainly Stardew Valley and Animal Crossing are his favorite at the moment. It helps him unwind after his deployments

• After the hardest of deployments will just want to relax with you and watch you.

• Will love to just have the two of you cuddle in a warm bed and watch game play videos if you guys aren't up to playing a certain game. YouTube being a wonderful addition

• Will download some games on a burner smartphone he keeps and play it in his bunks. If it's multi-player will invite you to join him so the two of you can spend this time together even at a far distance.

[immortal-archives]

Every starting villager of Phoenix drop! Explanations and backstory ahead:

Brendan and Kiki are identical twins hailing from Tu’la. Their family moved to Ru’aun after discovering that Kiki had magicks. They became farmers near Brightport. Their canon backstory proceeded from there. Eventually, Brendan went across the channel to meet new people. Kiki followed him.

Kiki used to look more like Brendan, but eventually grew out her hair and dyed it to look more feminine. She always has a little something for her animals in her bag. Kiki doesn’t stay in the village full-time, as she likes acquiring new animals for her stand.

Molly is a middle-aged woman who lives in the maiden house. Her partner, Dale, lives in the guard tower with their son Brian. For various reasons, they aren’t married yet— mainly, because marriage is incredibly expensive and living together unmarried is very dangerous in Ru’aun. But the two of them make the best of it. They’ve been scrounging together money so that they can afford a priest from Brightport to bless their marriage. Brian loves his parents, and wants to be a guard like his dad. Dale hopes Brian gets stationed in a richer village, even if he’ll miss his son. He won’t leave though— Phoenix Drop is his home

Emmalyn was born in Phoenix Drop not all that long ago. In her 20’s, she’s the youngest resident after Brian and Zenix. Her parents died to the undead when she was just a baby. But she grew a love for knowledge, and decided to pursue being a researcher. She left for Scaleswind to go to university, staying with her aunt. Now, she runs the library where she collects all sorts of books. Her current specialty is in curses and the various magical creatures of Ru’aun; however, she has many more books in her collection. Perhaps, even some from the time of Irene…

Zenix was a boy found by Garroth at 13 years old. He was incredibly malnourished and scared all the time. He often used to attack Garroth out of fear. But eventually, he realized he was safe in the village. Garroth says he doesn’t have to do anything at all, but Zenix decided to become a guard to pay him back for his kindness. His eyes turned permanently red at a certain point, but he seemed to have better control over his emotions. Garroth was glad to see he was getting better. He had no idea what Zenix actually did

Garroth is the mystery guard of Phoenix Drop that we all know and love. His cover story is that he grew up in Brightport with Azura— if anyone asks her, that’s what she says. He doesn’t like saying that himself as he feels bad lying— but will if directly asked. His number one priority has always been the safety of the village and its people. He’s never asked anyone to work, instead believing that what needs to get done will because it must happen. So far, the village is scraping by. But as every day passes, more money hemorrhages from the village’s savings and more people jump ship for a village that isn’t dying. In desperation, he turns to a hired contractor… to hire her for the unaskable task of running the village.

Most days, you’ll find Stephanie spinning wool into yarn. It was a good way to pass the time, and earn a little extra change for her eventual wedding. She’d been born in Brightport alongside her sister Merida— but she went across the channel after being charmed by Corey. Corey was from Scaleswind, and came to Phoenix Drop many years ago to look for emerald mines. Eventually, the meager ore deposits dried up. But he didn’t return home— he was charmed by the young woman from Brightport that he met. So he stayed, and became the village’s carpenter. Now he creates furniture, fencing, and whatever other strange thing the new lord needs

Lydia was born more inland. She was an orphan, kept in the orphanage. Her passion was for singing, and she had a beautiful preforming voice. However, there was no way for her to pursue this; singing was not considered real work, and she could not support herself. When she turned ten, as all orphans do, she was kicked onto the street. The only maiden houses in the village were brothels, or houses where the family of the woman pays for her stay. Because of this, she turned and left. It’s a miracle she survived all those years of traveling. But eventually, she came across Phoenix Drop; a village that asked nothing of her, and she asked nothing of it but a home. She’s now fiercely protective of the village and of other women in her situation; she will befriend women and direct them into their village to get them out of their circumstances. Garroth is happy to accommodate them.

[youremyheaven]

Random Astrology Observations

Moon in the 1h is often talked about like 🥺🥺wears their heart on their sleeve🥹🥹uwu softie way but tbh Moon in 1h can make someone incredibly manipulative, they know just what to say and when to say it and know how to work their audience, this is perhaps why this placement is found in the charts of soooo many successful actors. ex: Leonardo DiCaprio, Audrey Hepburn, Henry Cavill, Charlie Chaplin, Priyanka Chopra, Antonio Banderas, Brendan Fraser, Benicio Del Toro, Jared Padelecki, Val Kilmer, Adrien Brody etc

I think this is a very manipulative placement, again manipulation is not in and of itself a bad thing, its what we use it for that matters. Some people completely lack the ability to manipulate at all (they don't have Moon influence)

2. Debilitated placements point to unconventional intelligence & wisdom in that area. I feel like they've cracked the code . They struggle a lot but when they triumph it's magic

3. I've mentioned this in other posts but many notorious sex offenders have Venus influence. Actions of this sort, as well as criticizing others' beauty, not taking care of yourself/surroundings, being shabby or disorderly in general are all things that harm your Venus. Abusing someone is the quickest way to ruin your Venus, you start corroding and that ugliness begins to manifest on the outside.

Ex: Harvey Weinstein looks like a cartoonish villain

4. As I explore the astrology content put out by others across different platforms, I've seen how the nature of the take themselves are so specific and unique to the person making them. Claire Nakti has a tendency imo to focus heavily on romance, sex and women's sexual behaviour and what sort of men they attract.

Going through her website, it's obvious that she's deeply immersed in occult & esoteric philosophy (all of which ties together with vedic astrology, philosophy, Buddhism etc because I truly believe that spiritual truths are universal and different schools of thought/religion/culture/mythology express these same truths in their own way with a LOT of recurring patterns) and Carl Jung as well.

It's studying Jung that helped me understand that what we see or draw from something is a reflection of who we are. As a beginner to vedic astrology, I initially believed Claire's one dimensional portrayal to be the all encompassing truth of a nakshatra until I started doing my own reading and research.

The things I talk about or the patterns I find are a reflection of me and I get a lot of asks about why I don't do xyz nak and honestly it's not as simple as doing research for an essay for uni, you kind of have to have a gnosis or innate knowing of its themes, something to base your search off of. And different naks call to me at different points. I come across content that describes certain naks in lights i could've never imagined which is to say that gnosis or inner knowing is an important aspect of studying anything esoteric, it kind of has to be revealed to you and what you see, what you can discern is a reflection of you.

5. you have to have a strong Rahu to discern patterns and similarities because Rahu is maya/illusion and a well-placed Rahu will allow you to see through those patterns/illusions. it will be very hard for someone without a strong Rahu to find similarities or common tropes, patterns, themes etc. Seeing through the veil or fog is Rahuvian.

6. Claire Nakti made a video about Venusian men where she said they were the ideal type of man and tbh that just confirmed my suspicion that she's Moon dominant because I think Moon dominant people are attracted to Venusians but in my humble opinion both Venusian men and Moon dominant men are some of the most batshit crazy people (manipulative and controlling at the least, psychopathic at worst) basically men who have a lot of Yin tend to be psychotic

7. I've noticed that Revati people tend to speak in a very verbose way. Nigella Lawson, Revati Moon is a really good example. Obviously other placements will also impact speech

8. Moon dominant people hate it when others share sob stories. They're the type to have the least amount of empathy for others and will either react in a neutral way or like they don't understand why you're saying this stuff at all. They're bored by other people's mundane problems and make it known as well. Not people you want to open up to.

My former friend was this way, I once cried in front of her and she showed zero emotion and didn't even try to comfort me lol

9. The way others treat us is the way we treat others. ik this is a basic take but karma is cause and effect. if you're dismissive of others feelings, other people will be dismissive of yours. what you do is what will be done unto you. Its so crazy to see how people who've been treated like shit by their friends will turn around and treat other people like shit. this is sooo basic but genuinely dont do anything to others that you dont want done to you.

[jks1uv]

𝑙𝑜𝑚𝑙 ; tommy riordan | one-shot |

summary: you’re visited by the love and loss of your life after he walked away a decade ago.

pairing: tommy riordan x vsangel!reader.

trope: estranged childhood best friends to lovers.

genre: hurt / comfort + romance.

warnings‼️: a 3 year age gap (reader is 22 & tommy is 25) + crude language + a kiss scene + a suggestive line towards reader as a model (some guy says she’s fine) + a minor detail describing a small part of the daily routine of a marine which may be inaccurate.

word count: 3,652.

random disclaimerrr: me when tom hardy: 😍😍 happy reading! ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ ♡ © 2024 @jks1uv

────♡♡♡────

you and tommy were the best of friends. inseparable at the tender ages of 5 and 8.

you two were neighbors and your family consists of four; mom, dad, you, and your little sister.

tommy and brendan had a bigger age gap than you and your sister but whenever you girls would be out in the yard, tommy would feel the itch to go out and play in his little hands.

he knew y’all were younger than him but that didn’t discourage his curiosity.

“um, is… is it okay if i can play with you?” he asked hesitantly.

you and your little sister look towards the voice and find a boy older than the two of you standing by his front porch, looking bashful.

you nodded enthusiastically, so excited to make a new friend.

“yes!” you exclaimed as you grab his hand and drag him along your front yard.

ever since then, the two of you were joined at the hip.

────♡♡♡────

tommy would come over to your house often due to the close nature of your friendship.

you may have been 12 at the time but you were wise, and that made it easier for him to confide in you.

“he’s drunk. again.” he shook his head and chuckled bitterly.

your eyes were soft and sorry. you wish he wouldn’t think pitying him was a bad thing.

you lace your hands with his and insist on watching a movie while snacking on his favorite things.

“you can spend the night if you want.”

it was second nature to go above and beyond for him, but it was second nature for him to deny your kindness. you never understood why.

“nah, i gotta get back to my mom.” and you smiled at that.

one thing about tommy? he’s a great son to his mother.

they say it gets worse before it gets better and that was certainly the case for tommy. he and his mother had been pushed to their limits. they both packed their bags and never looked back at pittsburgh ever again.

you were devastated, heartbroken. you couldn’t believe your best friend just up and left without even saying goodbye.

you figured it was because of his father, paddy, but you never knew he’d push your best friend away from you.

you harbored a secret animosity towards him whenever tommy would spill his guts out but in this moment? you resented him.

paddy was the sole reason your other half, your soulmate was gone.

you never even got to tell tommy how you really felt about him.

tommy told you his secrets and you shared yours. you were never this close to a person, ever.

your little sister is an exception but of course she’s gonna know you better than you know yourself. she’s your blood, but tommy isn’t. he’s someone who’s seen what the inside of your heart looks like and he hadn’t judged you one bit for it.

tommy is your first love, but he was also the loss of your life.

────♡♡♡────

10 years later, present-day:

“standby y/n.”

you're nervous as fuck and rightfully so. in addition to this being the first time you open a victoria’s secret fashion show, you're wearing your first fantasy bra to do it.

that’s a lot more firsts a girl can hope for!

you’re just a couple of minutes away from so many things happening tonight. tripping and twisting your ankle, falling on your face and the internet never letting you live it down, or worse: never getting another chance to model for victoria's secret ever again.

well, there goes your career! over before it even started all because of some heels or the floor or the lights or some other, valid yet non-excusable reason.

you take a deep breath in and exhale through your lips forming an ‘o’ shape. you close your eyes and join your hands together to pray silently with the few seconds you have left.

please, please, please don’t let me fuck this up. please.

you hear ariana grande belt out the few lines before the chrous of “dangerous woman” out front. you make a mental note to ask for a photo and autograph when you see her later.

“go, y/n!”

showtime.

it’s muscle memory for your hands to place themselves on your hips as you make your way down the large, well-lit, glittery floor.

perfect timing to make your appearance as the chorus of the song plays on.

cheers and screams erupt from the seats as you stand tall and concentrate on moving your ankles in front of the other.

you’re at the middle of the runway when you tug on a strap and large, black, feathery wings make their appearance. more encore from the venue & you can’t help but feel like that bitch.

when you make it to the end of the runway, you turn your chin down a bit and let your eyes do the talking. they’re outlined with black eyeliner and highlighted with silver and black eyeshadow, blended so nicely together.

the theme for your fantasy bra is “black swan” and it’s perfect for you as that’s the energy you’re known to give off. dark feminine, mysterious and unpredictable.

you pause for a few seconds to pose and let your side profile hang in the camera angle for a bit before you turn to the side. you make a full 360. you eye the camera on the side, offering one last glimpse before you’re on your way backstage.

you let the crowd fuel you as you depart and hope you looked your very best.

you know only angels get to wear wings and you know it’s a privilege to get to do both; be an angel and wear wings.

you were signed as a victoria’s secret model at 18 and worked very hard for 3 years to earn your title as an ‘angel’. at 21, you were gifted an opportunity so many girls only dream of.

the rest of the girls backstage practically flood the room with excited shrieks, warm hugs and elated faces.

you were the youngest of the batch and had so much yet to learn but they all treated you as their baby.

“you killed it out there!”

“so beyond proud of you, babe.”

“there she is! the highlight of tonight.”

“our black swan did so beautiful!” and there were so many more words of encouragement that made you spill so many tears but you did it! the hard part was over.

now you can change into other lingerie and wings and just be content with the fact that you did it.

────♡♡♡────

after the show was successfully complete (and ariana grande came asking for a photo), a celebration in the form of drinks were obviously in order.

you’re out with your sister and you deem it’s baddie baddie shot o’clock.

“girl, save some for your birthday.” your sister laughed.

you just sent her a toothy grin and shrugged. “we’ll just drink some more when it gets here.”

your 23rd birthday is still some time away but you weren’t thinking about that tonight.

“HOLY SHIT, IS THAT TOMMY?!”

yup. that’s what you were thinking about. the boy who left pittsburgh and took a piece of your heart with him.

your neck snaps up at the name and you see him for the first time in forever.

he’s here. in the flesh, and not on television breaking some guy's jaw. he's about 10 ppl away from you.

your heart stops.

your breathing stops.

time stops and all of a sudden, you’re a little kid again forming a memorable friendship with the neighbors youngest son.

he’s wearing a white tank top under a baggy, black zip-up jacket with a pair of black sweatpants.

his baby blues are darting from one person to the next, an unnoticeable smile on his face as people come up to him and say nice things with proud smiles on their faces.

you think he looks good. a bit uncomfortable and edgy, but he looks like he’s been taking good care of himself.

you begrudgingly look away from him and blink rapidly to keep your tears from falling.

your sister puts a comforting hand on your shoulder, begging you to go up to him and rekindle what may be lost but you silently plead with her to just let you have this.

you don’t have it in you to go up to him and make small talk, act like the last 10 years didn’t happen.

at least not tonight.

she indulges you and the two of you quietly leave the bar. unaware of the stunned pair of eyes that want so desperately for you to turn around to see what’s slipping away.

────♡♡♡────

you wake up with a headache but it's not from a hangover. it's from crying yourself to sleep.

you couldn't believe yourself. how did you miss the one chance you've been so desperately praying for? how did you walk out and away from him?

like he did you.

you sigh and drink some water from your nightstand before getting ready.

you shower and eat and think about going to just drive around town as you haven't been back in 3 years.

should you also go see him? maybe he's still here?

or maybe he left. again.

you shake your head away from those thoughts, no matter how possible they may be. you're gonna go out there and find him and... well, you'll figure out the rest of the plan when you see him.

the sound of the doorbell ringing catches your attention. your sister left for work and said she won't be back until 6.

you grab your keys and purse and make your way to the door, hoping it's a girl scout with cookies or something.

but of course, the universe says “nuh uh!” and behold! it's the very thing you ran away from. this time, just a couple of steps away from touching you.

“tommy?” you breathe out in disbelief.

he blinks slowly and your stomach feels funny. like all the adrenaline in you is swarming in your intestines, daring you to move your body. without thinking, you accept the challenge.

you jump out at him and crush him in the biggest hug you've ever given and the vigor of it knocks his balance off a bit. you hear him grunt in surprise and your arms are wrapped around his neck in a vice grip. like if you loosen them even a little, he'll disappear again.

hot tears brim along your eyes. you close them tightly and let them slide down your cheeks anyway, feeling them trail a path down your face.

his hands slowly rise towards your figure and he's unsure where to put them. he's never hugged or been hugged like this.

even when he made up with brendan, it was different. but why is this different? it it because it's you and not his no-longer-estranged older brother?

he hugs you back. one hand is across your hip and the other is your shoulder blade in his palm. he slides his face into the crevice of your neck and noses your collarbone in a silent apology.

you sniffle as you accept it.

“i'm sorry.” he croaks out.

you shake your head, to tell him he doesn't have to be but he insists.

“i shoulda came to see you but-” he sighs and moves his face back, prompting you to do the same.

you look at him with watery eyes and his eyes dart around your face. like he's memorizing it.

his eyebrows come together and form lines on his forehead. you know he does that when he's thinking really hard about something.

“the truth is,”

you let go of his neck and his cradles your face in his hands.

“i knew i wouldn't be able to leave if i saw you.” and when he drops that bomb on you, you can't help but stitch your wobbly lips together in a smile.

it doesn't reach your eyes though, and that's how he knows you missed him just as much as he missed you.

“but i woulda understood why.”

and he knows that, of course he knows.

he also knows that the second he would've seen those tears in your eyes, he would've broken his resolve. and how could he not? you break his heart when you cry.

he wipes your tears with his thumbs.

“i know.” he murmurs.

he pulls you into him once more with a hand on your neck and you cry softly, unbeknownst to you that he's forcing himself to brave through his teary eyes.

────♡♡♡────

“oh my god, you're so old.” you giggle.

“and you're so young.” he bites with no heat.

you invited tommy in and changed, finding your mission successful. the current conversation is about how different life has been for the both of you.

“so i guess we're both kinda like celebrities, huh.”

you tap your nails against the sofa arm.

“more you than me.” his lips split open in a toothy grin.

you smile back and think how great this all is. there's no sign of forced conversation, he's as relaxed as he can be and you are happy.

tommy stares at you and finds himself seeing all the things he's missed. he finds all the years he's missed in your face, all the places you've been in your eyes and all the joy you've experienced in your lips.

the truth is, he saw you on tv every time you were in a show. even back when you just modeled for any show before you were officially signed on as an angel.

his unit members would tease him but he didn't care. you were on national television and to him? you were amazing.

if anyone said anything about any woman in a suggestive tone, he'd say something anyway but he never played about you.

“damn, she's fine.”

if looks can kill, you wouldn't wanna be that guy. tommy could kill with his bare hands just as well.

alas, that was the only warning that poor chap got before it was lights out. all because he couldn't keep his thoughts in his head. he just had to air it out to everyone.

tommy slept good that night, too.

“whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout?”

you pull him away from his memories.

he deeply exhales and looks away from you, fiddling with his chain around his neck.

“i watched all your shows.” he mumbles.

you still heard it though and you show it by the way your face is beaming.

“really?”

you’re elated because you were on his mind just as much as he was on yours.

he nods, still refusing eye contact but it’s okay.

you scoot a bit closer to him and your knees are folded under you, touching his thigh.

he stops fiddling with his chain and eyes your hands on your knees. slowly but surely, his eyes lock onto yours and he sees how happy you are.

“i didn���t know they allowed people to watch tv over there.” you can’t help your grin.

your head tilts to the side a little as he explains how everyone shares one tv and there’s a daily time limit to how much tv they can watch.

“wait, so, you even watched the shows i did before i was exclusive to victoria’s secret?”

“every single one.”

that made your heart swoon. your crush on him never left but this amplified it.

you had guys try to hit on you and say a line or two to get your number (or something else) but they weren’t tommy.

he haunted your life.

“why didn’t you ever call?”

you didn’t want to ruin the mood but this has been sitting on your mind the second you let him in. you don’t know if he feels it, too.

“why’d you leave the bar?”

you quirk up an eyebrow at his quick yet witty retort.

touché.

this has been weighing on him for quite some time, too.

“i didn’t know how to face you… i guess i was overwhelmed.” you answer, ashamed.

he nods like he was satisfied in your answer. “same.”

you look at him, unsatisfied with his lack of explanation.

“i never called because i thought you might’ve hated me.” he admits.

you’re offended and you don’t hide it.

did he really think his friendship meant that little to you? so little, that you wouldn’t understand?

he sees the look on your face and shakes head, as if he was answering your questions.

“no. wait, it’s not like that-”

“i could never hate you.”

there’s a softness in your voice as you say the words he’s been longing for. it soothes the wave of self-loathing washing over the shore of his heart.

all he’s wanted to hear, to know; is that you don’t hate him.

your knees slide out from under you and you cross your legs together, facing him.

“i honestly thought you forgot about me-”

“never.” he says so instantly, like that idea is so absurd and bizarre.

to him? it is.

“i could never, ever forget about you.”

now it was his turn to be offended.

how could you assume he’d ever forget about you? the same you that never let him down? the same you that always had a place for him in your mind and heart? that you?

you sigh softly and look down at your hands. you’re unsure where to go now.

“okay.” you nod.

“okay.” he asserted.

you huff out a laugh from your scrunched up nose and your smile threatens your unbothered demeanor.

tommy smiles back, a tight-lipped one but a smile nonetheless.

he gazes into your eyes and they drift to your lips on their own accord. like a magnet, they’re drawn to your mouth and your eyes are drawn to his.

he hesitantly leans in a bit, giving you time and space to back off if you’d like but you’re frozen.

you gulp and meet his eyes and he whispers, “i’ve liked you for the longest time.”.

that makes your heart leap out of your chest. all these years you’ve been crushing on this big, tough guy, not knowing he’s liked you back?

“since when?”

you’re so starstruck.

he smiles bashfully, a faint red blush painting his cheeks. as uncharacteristic as this looks, you weren’t about to let this phenomenon go to waste by looking away.

“since that day i asked if i could play.”

your eyes widen and your jaw goes slack.

this endearing motherfucker.

“i… i’ve been crushin’ on you, too.” you admit.

you can’t look at him. you don’t know why you feel this way. maybe it’s because you’ve never been this vulnerable with a man before.

“don’t go all shy on me now.” he teases.

he moves his head to catch your gaze.

you smack your teeth and halfheartedly hit his shoulder with your knuckles.

he brings his head towards you once more and aligns his forehead with yours. you close your eyes at the contact and he asks, “can i kiss you?”.

you nod faintly, your hands coming up to rest on his shoulders.

his palms rest on the curve of your waist and he kisses you like he’s making up for all lost time.

he’s gentle, letting you set the pace, letting you take control.

but there’s something else you need to know.

your head tilts back a bit and he chases you, dazed and not a single thought behind his eyes other than kissing you forever if you’d let him.

“easy, tiger.” an airy chuckle leaves your lips and you set a hand on his chest.

he lazily smiles and places his hand over yours. he kisses your forehead.

it makes you smile, tommy being so affectionate. a stark contrast to his demeanor in the public but you think he’s one of those “tough guy with a soft heart” kind of guy.

“i want you to stay.”

he pauses his actions and slowly backs up to meet your eyes.

“you stayin’ here?” he asks curiously.

“for the time being.”

you interlock your fingers with his.

he nods and says, “what you really mean to say is; you want me to come with you.”.

you purse your lips sheepishly. tommy thinks about it for a moment.

“new york city?”

“mhm.”

you’re nervous. was that an impulsive move? or is that question a result of your fear; him leaving just as fast as he showed up?

he deeply inhales and blows a raspberry, simulating a worried persona.

“okay.” he decides a beat later.

you blink and shake your head, getting whiplash from his behavior.

“wait, what?!”

“i was gonna come visit you anyway but this sounds better.”

he nods like he’s made up his mind.

tommy says things like this like it’s the most obvious thing in the world and to him, they are.

but for you, this is a commitment. a promise. something you can’t turn back from and you convey that to him.

“tommy,” you begin. “this is a very big and important adjustment. we’re moving in, together.”

“what else would i be doin’? where else would i be?”

“for starters, your family is here. i know you’ve made up with brenadan so i figured…”

you trail off and hope tommy can fill in the rest.

a lopsided smirk is drawn to his handsome, smug face and he holds your hands.

“that’s sweet and you’re right. but he chose when and where to make his family and i’m tellin’ you; there’s no place i’d rather be.”

he says is so intrinsically that your heart wills no choice but to believe him. there’s a silent promise in his words, one that he hopes you hear him make.

i’m not leaving you again.

“…okay.” you muse.

“okay.” he settles with a quick kiss to your lips.

[the-autistic-vulcan]

JOKER FOLIE A DEUX

ok so I just got back from the cinema to see this film - and goodness, is it polarizing. but I love this conversation so, here's my take:

The Acting: Let's face it - we can disagree on so many things, but the acting was peak as fuck. It was easy to hate people - like Lee and Arthur - you could hate their antics but it is somewhat endearing - shout out to Steve Coogan and Brendan Gleeson too!

The Music: Love it as well. The Big Band feel, the old Hollywood glamor fantasy that carried on throughout the film was wonderful. Also gave a listen to Lady Gaga's album 'Harlequin' and loved it also

The Tone: In all honesty, the tone was a little all over the place - but that was kinda the point(?) I mean, it's meant to be as unpredictable as Arthur is, and to an extent Lee. But sometimes it was executed well, other times it just wasn't - but it didn't take me out of the emersion of the film

The Themes: I liked how the film explored the Joker persona as more of a concept rather than an actual physical person. The 'Joker' character is more of a defence mechanism on Arthur's part due to the intense abuse he faced as a child, creating the persona in an act to protect himself. Other themes include manipulation, which the film changed in terms of the dynamic between our two leads, changing the traditional take on the Joker/Harley relationship and made Lee the emotionally void and selfish partner rather than Joker/Arthur, mainly to emphasize the abuse dynamic briefly touched on during the various courtroom scenes

Overall, it is an acquired taste in a film, and some people hate it and some people like it (and to be fair, I am a sucker for campy execution)