#This one isnt BOB the KILLER (looks around)

[autistickfigure]

[sweetandmeat]

whole little story i wrote in my friend’s dms between bob and miles while half asleep vv 

how bob and miles meet: bob sees miles as the next victim of his general escapades of being a cannibal, but when infodumping to miles he corrects him actually, and bob gets curious about what he knows so what Was a near deadly scenario turns into a surprisingly pleasant conversation, bob reclining onto a wall while miles recomposes himself while listing off anatomy facts to a very fascinated bob.

they part ways, and only find eachother again at random intervals around the town later on. the town isnt too big, so it's not to hard to crash into someone you may know, even if its a serial killer outside of his usual attire, recognized by voice alone.

they get to talking, get to know eachother, and bob invites miles to the decrepit isolated SHITTY apartments he lives in and miles is like dude. Nah. NAH. rents getting harsh for me do you maybe? want to move in? the company would be nice. plus you get anatomy facts all day everyday. HOWEVER, chill out a little with the killing. i see a new vody in the newspapers almost every fuckin day dude!

so they now live together and dont Actually talk that much. bob does his own thing whereas being an intern in a hospital is Long hours. he comes home more and more worn out constantly. one week it is SO BAD he gets maybe 10 whole hours of sleep in three days and is having THE WORST constant mental breakdown in his life.

bob, NOT one to usually ask about the mental state of others is even pretty worried. dude barely talks anymore just sleeps and goes to work so hes like awh shit ok. Whats going on. and miles is at his wits end and EXPLODES in all his pent up fear and anger. job is considering kicking him out since he cant keep up with the same resilience as the other interns and residency is almost at his doorstep but hes Struggling to assist and nearly fucked up in the OR and hes SOOOO tired. he can't solve an issue to a patient they've opened up with a pulmonary issue that everyone is stumped with and he's got the feeling that if he gets taken off the care list for this patient he's going to be out of a job soon or WORSE. he's paranoid about being blacklisting from the medical field (but that's pure paranoia talking)

bob just kinda is at a loss. he doesnt really kniw how to soothe these things super well other than like a hug or cuddling but when it comes to Words or other actions he falls short. so he asks what he could possibly do. and miles is like "UGH i dunno man  i just fucking WISH i could just stare at some fuckin lungs to try and figure iut what i can do for this patient. cause if not im a goner, and you wouldve wasted your time Not eating me four months ago." and bobs like oh. I Can Do That

next day miles comes home to a whole pair of lungs on the dinner table NOT PRESERVED AT ALL stinking up the place. he hates it but its not Much worse than the usual smell of an OR so after the initial "WHAT THE FUCK" moment he looks over to an eager (but also oddly nervous) looking bob and gets to work dissecting the lungs to figure his predicament out.

it helps! A LOT! he actually thinks he has a solid course of action and fir the first time in about a month he gets a SOMEWHAT ok amt of sleep in preparation to pitch his idea to his residents

it goes well, and now he's feeling a little better. but now hes got his next case, and bobs on it again to retrieve another organ. rinse and repeat! suddenly miles is no longer struggling to keep up with his other interns and hes doing Good (to the surpriseof all of his coworkers and Annoyance of a few shitheads). it raises a few eyebrows but they ultimately just see it as a "fuck. now this guys a contender for residency Too. ugh w/e."

AND THEN. bob gets arrested. he isnt seen for a few years, and miles is So worried for a good year before his saddness kinda fades into the background.  he knows what happened but hes just, Sad. and he kinda saw it coming. but no tracks led back to him, which was surprising since bob seemed very Ride Or Die about everything.

SO. miles continues on. life as usual, he's finally a resident he's doing well he's got a house for himself now though it's still just him in it. and them the events of tender treats happens. and theres a Corpse knocking on his front door. a LITERAL corpse. bullet wounds, tire tracks, severe burns and all and miles is like WHAT THE FUCK!!!

bob just kinda hobbles in, and lays down on the couch. miles FRANTICALLY fishing out his firstaid kit and it stiching uo everything and putting ointment pretty much Everywhere he can and wrapping wounds the WHOLE nine yards. hes freaking out about the bullet wounds and while fishing it out bob is just like Hissing in rage about how his night went. tensions are high and miles keeps SCOLDING the guy until he snaps and they start arguing BUT not for long

its out of worry. and miles bites back i "THATS IT! i know all aggression comes from fear so WHAT ARE YOU SCARED OF?!" and bob shouts back that hes TERRIFIED of being forgotten. he doesnt care HOW he's remembered he was just horrified and scared of being forgotten by the town. and ESPECIALLY scared of being forgotten by miles. everything falls silent, and after miles double and triple checks bobs wounds they fall asleep together on that couch

next day they catch up! bob doesnt have much to say, he just spent all his time in solitary confinement, what he Does say is what he was up to when they lived together that first time. he got tangled in the cults shenanigans, and was offered the amulet. he was essentially being used as a distractor for the cult, all eyes would be on the cannibal killer running amok so no one would pay attention to the far more calculated and discreet actions of the cult. he got to do what he wabted, they got to do what they wanted. the amulet just insured that hed be able to do it for Far longer, not having to worry abour death as much. he became NEAR impossible. which also meant he didnt actually follow miles' rule of "dont start shit as often." he earned a smack on the head when recounting that one

the amulet, THOUGH it got damaged, insured he stayed alive even after that second encounter with the police in tender treats, but its healing properties were gone, so he tanked all the attacks and Felt it all. hence the corpse at miles' doorstep.

miles forces him to lay low at his place and NO MORE KILLING. (bob doesnt listen to that last one really, but his attacks are incredibly sparse now) and they have hot gay sex now yippee end of story (for now)

[borderlinehannibal]

(Unfinished) Top ten fics of the year!

Not counting dead dove content

These are all fics i threw in my bangers tag throughout the year :)) and now im sharing them with YOU! Also, these are in no particular order, because i can not rank these theyre too good <3

(*April edit! I nevee finished this post, but i still wanted to post it! So its just the six fics!)

1. For Whom the Bell Rings

“Why are you still here?” Xie Lian asked a small ghost flame. It was green with a purple tint, flickering in and out of existence, yet its core was oddly bright. The flame bobbed up and down slightly.

“There are people I care about greatly, and I want them to stay safe,” the ghost flame said, and Xie Lian felt distantly that he’d heard those words before somewhere.

Or: Jiang Yanli becomes a Calamity.

24k words, 20k hits and so fucking good it made me scream when it finished. If you give a single shit about Jiang Yanli and have even a passing recognition of TGCF, PLEASE READ THIS.

2. American Pie

Rodrick gets by on drums and hazing his little brothers and being alone in the basement while his family moves around upstairs. Sometimes you have to be thrown a life preserver before you realise you're not swimming, you're drowning.

14k words and 11k hits- A rodrick/OMC fic by my own best friend!!! And its so fucking good man, i love the character development, the fucking depression, the music, the family dynamics, the OC is so good it makes me tear my hair out, i just. Fuck, man. Read it.

3. Heap of Ashes That I Am

Sometimes, when Izuku allows himself to comprehend the sick reality of his life, he finds that it no longer resembles the roots from which he sprouts. He is a fickle rose bush that was cared for and raised and coddled in its early seasons by a loving mother, growing strong, interwoven roots and a reliable base. And, Izuku thinks, he would have been a lovely rose bush. He would have flourished and unfurled and oh wouldn't that have been nice?

Instead, along came Bakugou Katsuki: vegetation killer in a compatibly sized spray bottle.

But this is the life Izuku has. It is ugly and broken and unrecognizable and so unbearably his and, god, how Izuku wishes it wasn't. But it is. So he makes his peace.

or

Izuku finds out he has a revival quirk and uses the opportunity to become a vigilante.

226k words, 296k hits and it deserved every single one of them. Jesus H Christ, this fic is so good the characters, the angst, the development, the found family, the redemption, i just! I can't! Please!

4. Weaver of Silk and Dreams

Ben Parker sighed as he looked up into The Thing's eyes, so expressively human in spite of the rest of his rocky appearance.

“My fifteen-year-old nephew--who's practically my own little boy!--” he choked out with a tight voice, “h-he can't pass for human anymore. He's scared, and he's isolated, and he just needs someone else to talk to! Someone who can understand. Please."

_____

Some alternate realities are unrecognizable, and some are indistinguishable. This one lies somewhere in between.

Peter Parker's life was derailed when he mutated into a strange human/spider hybrid, and he knows that's not the way things went down for him in other realities. Still, he's determined to forge a new path and make the best of it. Sometimes "the friends we made along the way" really is the greatest treasure anyone could ask for.

73k words and 58k hits - look me in the eyes and tell me this isnt a perfect fic. The fucking. The fucking descriptions, the prophecies, the spider totem nonsense, the instincts, the ANGST, the fantastic four in general, ben and may my beloveds, and the endgame spideypool? Jiminy!

5. A Villain State of Mind

Written for the Norsekink prompt: "SHIELD has Loki in custody, with the gag on to keep him from spellcasting, but they don't really know what to DO with him. They can't give him food or water or attempt to interrogate him with the gag on, and they don't dare take it off. Their solution? Call in a telepath! But Charles Xavier may find more things in Loki's head than SHIELD bargained for..."

53k words and 14qk hits- Not just this fic, but this whole series are some of the biggest bangers ive ever read. Loki's slow drinking of the mutant family kool-aid, and coming to respect Xavier and care about shit and be cared about and just. Aughhh!!! Please read this series i will cry.

6. Monster Culture

Written for the 2014 Norse Big Bang.

When Loki is injured by Kurse in Thor: The Dark World, Thor pleads his case to the All-Father and Loki is given the chance to repay his wrongs on Midgard in the care of Bruce Banner. Over the course of a year, the two navigate the city of Boston and try to figure out what it means to be human and what it means to be a monster.

40k words and 10k hits- Bro dont even get me started i will cry i will actually cry. I know gammafrost isnt the most popular pairing but like this deserves so much more attention and love.

7.

[thedistantstorm]

Phoenix Protocol 02

A Zavala x Female Guardian work.

Summary: When the Traveler’s Light was returned to the Guardians after the defeat of the Cabal, it did not manifest itself the same in everyone. Miyu, an Awoken Warlock, finds herself struggling with her abilities, her Light feeling different and not her own. With her Vanguard preoccupied with grief and all eyes turned to the Reef, she finds herself turning to an unlikely source in an attempt to rediscover her connection to the Light and define what it means for her as a Dawnblade.

[Previously]

Ikora always wants more.

By research, Ikora actually means to discuss Miyu stopping hers. Focusing on more important matters. The Reef. Uldren. Miyu wants nothing to do with any of it, and that is why she had willingly offered her services detaining escapees from the Prison of Elders despite not actually wanting to do that at all.

It gives Miyu time to actually complete some more secretive research on the side: why her Light is messed up. Why it feels like when she received hers back, after the war, it felt like it belonged to someone else, the person she used to be but wasn’t any more, coiling uneasily beneath her skin. She’s gone to Io. The Shard. Both under the guise of hunting escapees, but also to seek answers.

Neither place does and very day, the solar sword is more difficult to grasp, wings of flame beyond her reach. Telling her Vanguard that didn’t work. Ikora didn’t understand. The Void has always been at her fingertips, for as long as she’s been connected to the Traveler. With that in mind, Miyu attempts to adapt her argument, listens to Ikora insisting that she push herself and hopes that eventually either her own efforts or Ikora’s reasoning pays off.

Ikora still demands an answer, though. Wants Miyu to give her something. So, Miyu presents her personal thoughts. Based on her research, she finds that her connection to the Light is strongest while meditating or calling upon her abilities in the midst of a healing rift. Ikora is not impressed. Miyu isn’t expecting her to be. She tells Ikora the truth - that she does not believe offensive maneuvers are her true calling, not anymore. It’s something she’s believed for a while now. She can hear Ghost cheering her on in her mind for being honest - for expressing her opinion. That was rare. Miyu hated doing so, especially when she knew it was going to be an unpopular one.

Ikora, in response, cites battles, strikes, accolades. Ikora always measures a Warlock’s worth in accolades.

Miyu measures a person - Guardian, Human, Exo, Awoken, whatever - in terms of character. Heart. Sometimes she thinks that’s why she just doesn’t fit in with her more intellectual colleagues, aside from not being sneaky and clever like the Hidden or having half the honors or titles that Ikora’s top-tier Warlocks have. Put a sword in her hands and Miyu can cut down almost anyone or anything. But have her infiltrate a group and act a certain way, play a role of some sort? She’ll fail right away.

She is not an actress. She’s a Guardian. And to her knowledge, the definition of a Guardian is someone who protects. There has to be some merit in that, she’s told Ghost, and he - her best friend and most honest critic - agrees.

Ikora - Miyu thinks - must not think much of her. Still, the Void user pulls her back from her thoughts with praise. “Grey,” She says, “You are so much more than you give yourself credit for. You need to push yourself harder. Do not give up. I know you are better than this.”

It’s times like this that she wonders. Does Ikora know what her name is, really? Does Ikora even care? Miyu is beginning to think she’s just a faceless person, a puzzle that is challenging and therefore worth the more esteemed woman’s time. Ikora gave her hardly any face-time before the war, before she had these issues.

Regardless, the younger Warlock attempts to retain her composure. “Thank you. However, I would like to pursue my research on a more defensive Solar ability,” Miyu says, barely a whisper of defiance. “I believe it is possible.”

Ikora shakes her head. “Leave shielding for the Titans. A Warlock’s rift is not meant to protect. It is meant to heal or empower, and only briefly. Attempting to augment it is a waste of Light better spent on dispatching our enemies.”

Miyu sighs, but nods. “What would you have me do, then?”

The Warlock Vanguard crosses her arms, turns her back to Miyu and looks out at the City. “Take the most difficult Strikes and Patrols I can give you. Challenge yourself and you will find yourself calling upon your abilities more. If that does not help you to realign yourself with your Light,” She trails off, eyes narrowing on a fixed point beyond the horizon, “I will explore other paths. Your research is unnecessary at this time. If you require a project, I will send you to collect information from the Reef.”

The younger Warlock bows. “I understand,” Miyu says, schooling her features into something blank, and trying to sound collected and grateful, not detached and indifferent. “Thank you.”  This won’t help. She’s already tried this, Miyu thinks, but tries not to let it bleed into her demeanor.

“You’re welcome, Grey. You may go.”

Miyu turns her back to Ikora Rey, but waits until she is nearly to Banshee’s stall in the main portion of the Tower to let the frustration show on her face, a very quiet growl escaping her. Ghost appears at her side immediately. “I can’t believe she wouldn’t listen to you,” He says, sounding even more irritated than Miyu is. “I’m sorry,” He apologizes to her. “But I think you should keep working on it.”

“So do I.”

Ghost bobs, spinning around her in a wide circle of disbelief. “You do?”

“Yes.” Silver eyes cant over toward her Ghost’s single teal one. “I’ll do what she asks, and continue my research on my own. What else can I do?”

He sighs. “I know. I just wish it had gone differently.” He taps her cheek. “If you could have convinced her to watch you summon your-”

“We asked that the last two times and she refused. It’s okay, Ghost. I’m used to it being just you and me.” She reaches up to cup his small being with her hands, and holds him close. “Sometimes, I think it’s better that way.”

Ghost nuzzles against her abdomen in a return of their improvised hug, and wonders not for the first time if she considers leaving. He knows she doesn’t feel like she belongs here, that she’s trying so hard to fit into the roles dictated by social norms. Most of her fellow Guardians hurt her with their lack of understanding, their taunts. Most of them do not know how it feels to have their Light feel foreign to them. Still, she remains as gentle as she can, does her best to be kind to everyone she meets. It’s no wonder they don’t live within the confines of the Tower. The City folk are far kinder to his wayward Guardian than her own brothers and sisters. It’s a shame.

-/

Three days later, news hits the Tower. Cayde-6's killer has been eliminated. Almost everyone is celebrating. Miyu uses the general population's distraction to her advantage, slipping out to the training grounds recently restored near the base of the wall. There should be free space for her to experiment unseen, a rarity in the middle of the day.

She discards her gauntlets and lets the heavy, flame-retardant sleeves of her robes hang down over her palms. Pulls her sword from its sheath at her side. Ghost flutters around her, cones spinning silently in anticipation a safe distance away. She drops to her starting position, kicks off.

What she does not have in stealth or strength, she makes up with in skill. Some of it, Ghost believes, may have been written upon her from her first life, muscle memory and reflexes allowing her to pick up swordplay far more easily than ever anticipated. But not all of it. She worked hard to hone her skills, consulted archives and videos, took every ounce of criticism to heart.

He enjoys watching her dance throughout the training arena with her blade slashing out, parrying imaginary blows, each move fluid yet moving with unbelievable discipline and precision. However, he knows it will come soon. Can feel the tingle of Light, the increasing heat. She’s going to try without the rift. She always does, first. When her mind is clear, when she’s reached that place of blank-white concentration.

The Warlock sheaths her physical blade in a motion like lightning, before reaching out for the heat in the air, calling upon the Light in her soul to manifest the sword that answers the call of her heart. It always looks so effortless from afar.

It isn’t, though. He watches her throw the first one, scorching the dirt. Watches her call upon the second. Watches the flames spiral up her arm, paying no heed to her robes. Watches her grit her teeth and give form to the energy in her hand. This one doesn’t go as far, doesn’t track like the first.

The third fizzles into ash, blackens her fingertips. She screams, drops to her knees, slams her fists into the dirt. He doesn’t approach. He knows she wants to feel this, to commit it to memory - as if she hasn’t already, he thinks, but allows it to continue - and use it to fuel her. It’s how Ikora believes she will improve. Miyu doesn’t believe in it, but she tries anyway. He knows she’d try anything, to feel like herself again.

This is torture, but it’s therapeutic. She needs to let it out, to blaze, like the fiery powers locked inside her, refusing to come out the way they’re supposed to. The way they always had, before the Cabal had ripped them away by force.

Any changes in her personality, since the war, have been subtle. He notices the way her swordhand twitches after she lets the blades burn through her nerves. Can tell that where she might say ten words once, she now says six or five. Notices that where she’d try to be social once in a while, it takes a great deal of encouragement to convince her to approach a friendly face.

Ghost’s cones push out and then back in, spiraling around him in surprise as someone appears on his radar. Someone approaching, quickly. At a run. Miyu is pushing herself up, the rush of a healing rift spiraling out from beneath her. She doesn’t notice.

Another attempt is made to call upon the sword. She growls and braces her sword hand - gripping her left wrist with her right hand. Flames spit and spiral up both arms this time, fighting for purchase against the healing properties of the rift.

“Mi- Miyu?”

The small AI turns at the sound of the familiar voice. Oh, no.

Next

[clown-bait]

29 Neibolt ST (Monster Roommate AU) CH29

PARTY TIME. The former monsters crash a party but it turns out that everyone’s human forms are a bunch of embarrassed nerds. Chucky suggests a hostile takeover and Pinhead yells at them for showing up uninvited. (Turns out a lot of people don’t like Freddy and his friends in this town) Meanwhile Robert Gray accidentally gets LIT and Leech shows off her bartending skills. WHAT COULD POSSIBLY GO WRONG! 

I’m going to start including a song to go with some of these chapters so feel free to check back to previous ones and possibly stay tuned for a playlist! 

The song for this one is Dead Man’s Party by Oingo Boingo

CH29

Its a Dead Mans Party

When they arrived to the night club the gang expected a party. What they got was a bunch of ashamed former monsters shuffling awkwardly around. Once intimidating living nightmares were now average everyday outcasts too scared to leave the wall incase someone might recognize who they really were.

“This is the most depressing scene I’ve ever witnessed.” Freddy frowned looking out at the club.

“How are we going to find a Halloween god when the very creatures who make the holiday  scary are sulking in the corner because they suddenly have weird teeth and zits again?” Leech groaned.

Chucky took a step forward and cracked his knuckles.“Ahem while I dont want to participate in your shenanigans, I refuse to attend something so dead. So Fangs, Krueger I think we need to do a little CPR.”

“Are you suggesting a hostile take over?”

“That is exactly what I’m suggesting.”

“Wait wont you get caught? They weren’t invited!” Tiffany hissed at her husband

“They’ll be begging us to stay when we’re finished here sweet cheeks.”

“This isnt the first CPR we’ve preformed. Nothing to worry about we got a party master among us.” Leech grinned and gestured to Freddy “Krueger! Work your magic.”

“With pleasure Fangs.”

“And none of this Monster Mash bullshit guys! Give us something we can work with!”

Freddy smirked pulling out a pair of sunglasses and opened his arms as he walked down the stairs like some sort of messiah of debachery. Chucky grabbed his wife by the arm and followed after him while Leech tapped her mate on the cheek and made her way to the bar. The players took the field with confidence, Chucky and Leech kicking out the sulking DJ and bartender taking their place and signaling to the former dream demon they were ready.

Freddy caught the microphone tossed to him from the DJ booth and tapped it “You assholes call this a party? Seems like not inviting old Freddy was the wrong idea. Let’s change that shall we? Chuck, gimme some music.”

An upbeat song blasted through the speakers. Leech spun a tumbler on her palm and tossed a bottle of vodka into the air, quickly pouring out drinks faster than she probably ever had before. Freddy began placing bevrages in peoples hands and pulling groups onto the dance floor. Life started to be forced back into the event. People were enjoying themselves more and more even Leatherface started dragging folks in with Freddy.

Leech glanced over to the handsome man in the Spiderman outfit perched on the fruthest bar stool scanning the scene intently infront of him. The song Dead Man’s Party began to play and people moved towards the dance floor away from the bar giving her a moment to slide a drink over to him.

“You looked like you could use a pick-me up.” she glanced over and smiled at him when he raised his head up at her watching her stuff a tip into her coat. Robert picked up the drink without saying anything. Leech frowned and walked up to him “This is a party remember? You’re allowed to enjoy yourself.” she said leaning over the bar. He rolled up the mask on his face and sipped the rum and coke still not saying a word.

“Pen.” she frowned using his clown name to get his attention. “What’s wrong huh? I know we’re looking for the kid but take your own advice and enjoy the hunt a little.”

“That’s not my name.” he grumbled. Leech narrowed her eyes when she realized he was embarrassed. He was such an overly proud creature and being seen by others as anything but superior was severly affecting his ego. The former vampire grabbed his chin and turned it to face her ignoring a couple incoming drink requests.

“Look, I know you have been humiliated today, and I know you hate being a human but this is only temporary you’ll be back to your old self soon. You’re always going to be a perfect evil godlike entity no matter what skin you wear….especially to me.”  

Robert still didnt respond but he pulled off the mask completely and looked off to the side.

“All right fine if you’re not going to start having fun I’m going to make you have fun.” his mate growled leaving the bar briefly to pull him back behind it with her.

“What are you doing Leech let go of me” he snarled reluctnantly following her.

“You may be human but my goofball killer clown is still in there and I’m going to bring him out even if it involves kicking and screaming.”

“And how are you planning on doing that?” he grumbled.

Leech gave him a warm smile and picked up four shot glasses beginning to juggle them. The former clown arched an eyebrow in mock interest. His mate smirked and tossed a glass at him which he reflextibly caught and threw back to her glaring a bit. When she caught it she tossed another to him. his scowl softened slightly when he tossed it back at her. Leech tossed another to him followed by another until they were full on juggling. She beamed at him when his expression could no longer hold back the his grin. They continued their routine till there was a small crowd gathered around them to watch. Some were actually suprised to see the clown doing actual clown things as if there was a rumor going around that he couldn’t.

“You know I love this song.” she said collecting all four of the glasses and setting them on the bar in a line. “Pass me the clear bottle and the red one” she said picking up a tumbler. Robert tossed them over to her she caught one in her cup and bounced the other a few times on her elbow the crowd cheering a bit. She set the one bottle down and poured the red one in her tumbler and tossed it away to her partner. “Here make yourself useful, the two top right ones next.” they put on quite the little show together both of them genuinely having fun with one another. Tiffany elbowed her husband and pointed at their housemates. “Did you know he actually could juggle?”

“Unfortuneately, yes.” chucky groaned. Tiff gave him a questioning look “Let’s just say that their practicing is the reason I dont eat dinner at the table anymore.”

“That explains the wobbling” Tiff replied while cringing.

When she was done Leech passed out several shots to the crowd and handed one to Robert taking the last one in her own hand. “All right drink this with me. Hold out your arm.” the confused ex-eldritch abomination did as she instructed and his mate linked her arm around his. “We take it together at the same time.”

“Am I going to like this?”

“Don’t worry its sweet.” she teased him a bit knowing her lover tended to only eat things that were 80% sugar. She counted to three and they tipped their shots back. Robert made a face and shook his head a bit. Leech laughed and lightly tapped his cheek “You alright there big guy?”

“It burns and I feel warm.”

“Well yeah you already had one drink and I just fed you a giant shot.”

“You’re a bad influence.” he narrowed his eyes at her. The former vampire poured dark honey colored liquid into her shot glass and knocked it back. “There now I’m catching up to you.”

“We have a task to accomplish Leechie.” he grumbled Leech rolled her eyes in response making another few drinks and shoving one in his hands. “Enjoy the damn party Robert.” The shut his eyes and took a sip cursing humans and their self destructive habbits.

“CLOWN!” a mousy looking man in leather shouted.

“Is that Pinhead?” Leech asked throwing a wash rag over her shoulder “Holy fuck it is! You assholes messed up my tits!” she snarled at him.

“I dont mind them.” Robert said cooly while sipping his drink.

“Bob no.”

“I seem to recall you fully agreeing to that modification vampire.”

“I….lets not go into.…that….”

“Yes there is a different matter at hand. I came here to remove you from my establishment friends of Krueger are not allowed due to the.. liabilities…”

The former cenobite glared at the couple, Leech looked as if she was readying herself for a fight. Robert finished his drink and stepped forward pushing his mate lightly to the side.

“You seem to forget that I own this town, you are simply beng allowed to stay and I’m a bit offended I was not invited.”

“All we wish is to keep the dream demon and his associates out….especially with what happened at the last event he attended….”

“His associates being my mate? Is is wise hell priest to ban her simply for being friends with Krueger? If I must tolerate his presence then so will you.” Robert was starting to feel in control again when the hell preist backed down. He wasnt sure if it was the liquid courage he consumed or his beloved’s efforts to cheer him up but his ego was finally feeling restored. It was time to remind everyone of their place in his town and who stood on top. “I seem to recall you allowed harm to come to her when she spent time with you did you not?” he growled and loomed over the man letting his height aid in his intimidation “I think you owe me for your screw up.”

Leech tapped his arm. “Psst ask for free drinks I’m running out of tip money to pay for ours.” she said with a small whisper.

“….And free drinks” Robert rolled his eyes and placed a large hand on her hat.

“I would rather have no qualms with you. Get rid of Krueger and she may stay.”

“That wouldn't be advisable.” Leech said leaning on the bar pouring herself another drink now that it was free.

“And why is that?”

“One, Krueger Chucky and I brought this party back from the dead you needed us. Two, if you ever want to go back to being a hell priest and making that outfit actually work for you I suggest you let us continue working here.” Leech sipped a glass of whiskey and grinned smugly at the former Cenobite.

“You know how to solve this problem?”

“That’s why were here. The other clown and dracula are bringing what we need as we speak.” Robert relaxed his tense muscles into a more causal stance when he sensed the Cenobite leader backing off.

Pinhead glanced at the crowd of awkward looking humans shuffling around attempting to dance and sighed. “We are counting on you to succeed then….and clown, the invitation to the afterparty still stands…to the both of you…” he turned and walked away.

Both former monsters cringed. “And with that horrible thought I’m going to need another drink” Leech turned around and grabbed a bottle of rum.

————-

They had been there a couple hours and Robert Gray was starting to feel the room spin. He had only had a few drinks that his mate insisted on yet he was starting to feel the effects. This human beverage must be the reason they’re all so inferior. Just a few glasses of it and it was like his head was swelling with the music and his limbs felt heavy. He twisted his head over to Leech who somehow was was still standing despite having drank twice as much as he did. She was shouting something to a small crowd about piercing Freddy’s other nipple which frankly he had no desire to ever see again. Instead he sat with his head back against a couch hoping to just let this feeling pass quickly when suddenly the doll and his wife plopped down next to him. The former clown rolled his head over to acknowlege thier presence.

“Jingles! Jingles are you drunk?!”

“Leechie did it.” He managed to slur out.

“Oh man big biiiiggg mistake Jingle Bells. You never try to keep up with Fangs and Freddy”

“I remember the one time I smoked weed with her, and lemme tell ya I was high for two days!” Tiffany added “Ya gotta know your limits with that one, she’ll kill ya.”

“Did-did you just call me Jingle Bells?” Robert squinted and shook his head a bit to clear it “Nevermind the Sam-Whatever god have you seen him?” he was finding it hard to form words and began to curse the foul drink affecting his brain.

“Hey now, we said we were only stayin out of your way we aint helpin!” Tiff snapped.

“You tell em babe! Aint no way I’m going to help with making these beauties disappear.” Chucky gestured at his wifes boobs.

“Chucky stop!” she shoved him. Robert shifted more towards the edge of the couch. He decided to get up when the doll and his wife started getting “handsy” not wanting to be around for that any longer than he had to. The former clown downed the rest of the drink his mate had insisted he try and swayed his way through the crowd. People brushed up against him on the dance floor, a few he was pretty sure did on purpose. One girl in a particularly skimpy outfit walked up to talk to him and he just stood there blank faced eye drifting to the side as babble came out of her mouth. She made a few attempts to pull him in to dance with her but the former clown would not budge. She was pretty but she wasn't his Leechie. He should find her. Robert pushed her face away from him causing her to squawk after him in anger. He continued through the crowd till he got to the front of the group that had gathered around Leech and Freddy. She had a blow torch in her hand that she was using to super heat a needle raised high in the air for all to see.

“FANGS WAIT I CHANGE MY MIND PUT THE FIRE AWAY” freddy shouted his costume zipped open and a bottle of vodka in one of his hands.

“Gotta make sure its hot Fred!” she shouted over the torch. Jason and Leatherface cheered her on as she lit the fire again.

“FANGS! I’M SERIOUS YOU DIDNT TELL ME THERE’D BE A TORCH INVOLVED!!”

“The people came to see something get pierced Krueger, and I’m out of nipples!” she said and took off her top hat “Hold still this is gonna hurt a little!” she flashed him a derranged grin and stepped on his chest to hold him down. Leech was about to strike when something orange caught her eye in the crowd. Samhain was finally here watching her from a clearing in the crowd. The small creature cocked his large sack covered head to the side in curiosity and brought a pumpkin lollipop up to his mouth under its mask. She froze staring back at him giving Freddy enough time to wiggle free from under her boot and escape.

“FUCK THIS I’M OUT” the former Dream Demon leapt off the table. The crowd groaned and dissipated. Robert took his cue to rush in and embrace her giggling to himself as he spun his mate around pulling her tightly into his arms. “Peachy!” he slurred out. “My pretty pretty mate!” he sang kissing the top of her head. He reeked of booze.  

“Bob! Wait I-“

“I went to find you! And strange women kept trying to dance with me!”

“Robert I saw- hold up what?”

“But you’re here now! Your Penny’s got you all to himself!” he giggled and rubbed his nose on her. Leech narrowed her eyes and glared a bit in jealousy.

“Run that last part by me again.”

“Annoying things, dancing around trying to touch. They don’t know you’re mine! Aaaallllll mine, mine, mine, mine!” he began to babble himself not letting his precious mate go as he swayed around till he had pushed her into a wall away from the crowds. He couldn't even remember why he was at this event anymore he just knew she was warm and smelled like rum and lavender. Robert peppered her with drool filled sloppy kisses muttering “mine” to himself over and over in between each peck. Leech laughed and pushed him back she could see his dilated pupils in his sunken baggy eyes and the warm flush on his cheeks.

“Wow, you were right I am a bad influence on you.” she sighed reaching up to his face when she realized she had gotten the former eldritch abomination completely drunk. Leech knew she’d be in so much trouble once he sobered up but this was at least entertaining. she’d find Freddy about the halloween god shortly. Uncle Bob and Dracula would be here with the candy sack any minute now anyway and soon they’d all be back to normal and hopefully her clown wouldn’t notice a thing. She could enjoy just one more moment of the party. As soon as her fingers touched his cheeks Robert leaned down and locked his lips with her’s letting out a soft groan into her mouth. She didn't think it was possible for him to get more slobbery and sloppy with his kisses but here he was smearing her shimmery dark lipstick all over his own lips and grabbing at her ringmaster costume with greed. He moved to her jaw sucking and nipping at her skin determined to leave some fresh marks on her. Leech gasped when his teeth pinched her skin and ran her fingers through his hair she managed to find her voice and mumbled “Hey, we’re gonna have to stop and go somewhere else soon, everyone is watching.” Robert grabbed some skin from her neck in his teeth and came off her with a wet pop “That’s the point.” he growled and went back to leaving hickies on her flesh. One of Leech’s eyes lazily opened “Pen-“ before she could finish trying to convince him to relocate she had to cut herself off when her vision finally focused. Her body went stiff when she saw who was in the crowd and it wasn't the halloween god Samhain. It was someone that should be long dead, and he was staring directly at her.

------------------------------------

Uh oh WHO COULD IT BEEEEEE! Lol get ready for an extremely violent bar fight kids, shits about to get messy.

[wokebands]

fluffy/flirty bob - #5

“stop!” you giggled as bob tickled you, making both of you fall back onto the couch. when your boyfriend had suggested a weekend getaway, you didn’t know a private suite near the beach is what he meant. “its beautiful here.” you managed to say, as he wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closer.

you were always an earlier riser, and with bob being able to sleep the whole day away, you normally ended up awake hours earlier than him. the tempting kitchen inspired you to make a breakfast for your boy, who lay sound asleep. as you cut the fruit, you felt two hands snake in between your arms and a kiss being placed on your head. 

“smells great.” he whispered in your ear. “well, i’ll have you know, if i wasn’t your girlfriend, i would be a full-time chef at a world-famous restaurant.” you joked and he smiled at you. “who says you cant do both?” he argued. “being with you is a full time job, my love. who would make you breakfast? and play with your hair?” you questioned. “m’sure we can find ways to fit it all in.” he placed a kiss on one cheek, then the other, then trailed along your jaw. “bob, i have a meal to finish.” you reminded him, placing the knife down for all safety purposes. “it could wait, babe, i mean, i am here with my beautiful girlfriend, in a beautiful place, with beautiful couches that are being left all alone.” he said and you couldn’t help but giggle and play along. “mhm, maybe you could sleep out here tonight, then? wouldn’t want them getting cold?” 

once you finished breakfast, you both decided to lay out by the pool. as you got ready, you looked at yourself in the mirror. you always were a bit insecure about how you looked in a bikini. “babe? lets go!” bob said, appearing from behind the door. “why hello, sexy.” he smirked, before coming up behind you again and pulling you close. “whats wrong?” he asked when he noticed your hesitation. “its nothing.” you shrugged it off. “did i forget?” he asked. “forget what?” you asked back. “to remind you how gorgeous you are. whos paying you to be with me? as if your face isnt enough, you have a killer body that i just cant take my eyes off, hm? you know that?” he said, pulling you in for a kiss, that lasted longer than the ones before. 

“remember what you said about the couches?” you asked him, taking a breath. bob nodded his head, before kissing your collarbone.

“lets go keep them company.” 

[writingguide003-blog]

'A total blast': our writers pick their favorite summer blockbusters ever

New Post has been published on https://writingguideto.com/must-see/a-total-blast-our-writers-pick-their-favorite-summer-blockbusters-ever/

'A total blast': our writers pick their favorite summer blockbusters ever

As the season heats up on the big screen, Guardian writers look back on their picks from the past with killer sharks, mournful crime-fighters and time-traveling teens

Face/Off (1997)

Photograph: Allstar/Cinetext/PARAMOUNT

Madman bomber Nicolas Cage stole John Travoltas dead sons life. So gloomy FBI agent Travolta steals Cages face. When Cage steals his face and his wife and freedom John Woos Face/Off becomes the biggest, wackiest and most operatic summer blockbuster in history, a gonzo combustion that flings everything from pigeons to peaches at the screen.

Hong Kong cineastes might applaud a script with roots in the ancient Sichuan opera genre Bian Lian, where performers swap masks like magic. Popcorn-munchers, of which I am front row center, are here to watch whack job Cage and soulful Travolta, two actors who love to go full-ham, play each other and go deep inside their iconographies. Call it hamception. Or just call it a crazy swing that hits a home run as Cavolta and Trage battling it out in a warehouse, a speedboat and, of course, a church. As Cage-as-Travolta gloats to Travolta-as-Cage, Isnt this religious? The eternal battle between good and evil, saint and sinners but youre still not having any fun! Maybe hes not, but we sure are. Bravo, bravo. AN

Edge of Tomorrow (2014)

Photograph: David James/Publicity image from film company

Theres been an increasing sense of desperation clinging to the majority of roles picked by Tom Cruise in recent years. Outside of the still shockingly entertaining Mission: Impossible series, he was miscast in the barely serviceable Jack Reacher and its maddeningly unnecessary sequel, his awards-aiming American Made was throwaway and his franchise-starting The Mummy was a franchise-killer. But four summers ago, he picked the right horse just maybe at the wrong time.

Because despite how deliriously fun Edge of Tomorrow was in the summer of 2014, audiences didnt show the requisite enthusiasm. It was a moderate success (enough to warrant a long-gestating sequel) but it should have packed them in, its combination of charm, invention and sheer thrills making it one of the most objectively successful blockbuster experiences in memory. The nifty plot device (Cruise must relive a day of dying while battling aliens over and over again) allowed for some dark gallows humor and a frenetic pace that kept us all giddily on edge while it also contained a dazzling action star turn from Emily Blunt whose fearless Full Metal Bitch wrestled the film away from Cruise. Blame its relative failure on the bland title? Cruise fatigue? Blockbuster over-saturation? Then find a digital copy to watch and rewatch and repeat. BL

Back to the Future (1985)

Photograph: Allstar/UNIVERSAL/Sportsphoto Ltd./Allstar

Back to the Future very nearly wasnt a summer blockbuster. The reshoots required after Eric Stoltz was booted off, then the fact Michael J Foxs Family Ties commitments meant he could only shoot at night all meant filming didnt wrap until late April. Robert Zemeckis and Steven Spielberg duly pencilled in an August / September release.

But then people started seeing it. Test scores were off the scale. Said producer Frank Marshall: Id never seen a preview like that. The audience went up to the ceiling. So they bagsied the best spot the year had to offer 3 July hired a squad of sound editors to work round the clock and two print editors with instructions to get properly choppy. They did, and those big trims tightened yet further one of the tautest screenplays (by Bob Gale) cinema has ever seen. The only bit of fat they left was the Johnny B Goode scene: sure, it didnt advance the story, but the kids at those test screenings knew we were gonna love it. Back to the Future is a pure shot of summer cinema: grand, ambitious, insanely entertaining. Deadpool, Avengers, take note: a blockbuster can be smart as hell so long as it wears it lightly. In the end, by the way, the film spent 11 weeks at number 1 at the US box office. Thats essentially the whole summer. CS

Teminator 2: Judgment Day (1991)

Photograph: Allstar/TRISTAR/Sportsphoto Ltd./Allstar

The first film I ever saw at the cinema was The Rocketeer. We drove into Bradford city centre, bought our tickets at the Odeon and sat through the 1991 tale which followed the fortunes of a stunt pilot, a rocket pack and a Nazi agent played by Timothy Dalton who sounded like he was from Bury rather than Berlin. The way into the multiplex there was a huge poster for Terminator 2: Judgment Day. Arnie sat on a Harley with a shotgun cocked and ready. My dad was a huge fan of the original but he still couldnt swing taking a seven-year-old to see it. It wasnt until I borrowed a VHS copy that I finally got to see what was behind that image. Skynet, dipshits, T-1000s, a nuclear holocaust and a motorbike chases on the LA river.

Blockbusters dont usually have that edge: theres a more brazen mainstream appeal. But Judgment Day was and still is an exception. It did huge numbers at the box office (more than $500m), was a rare sequel that was arguably better than the original and introduced really odd bits of Spanish idiom into the Bradford schoolyard lexicon. I probably would have been scarred for life watching it as a seven-year-old, but as a teenager it gave me a story I doubt Ill ever get tired of revisiting. LB

The Dark Knight (2008)

Photograph: Allstar/WARNER BROS.

The summer of 2008 was a busy one: Barack Obama emerged from a contentious democratic primary to become the first ever black presidential nominee of a major party. The dam fortifying the entire global financial system was about to burst. China hosted its first ever Summer Olympics. But somehow, and not exactly to my credit, what I remember most from that summer is the uncanny, ridiculously over-the-top publicity blitzkrieg that preceded the release of The Dark Knight, which has since emerged as not just an all-time great summer blockbuster, but an all-time great American film, period.

There were faux-political billboards that read I believe in Harvey Dent; a weirdly nondescript website of the same name; Joker playing cards dispersed throughout comic book stores, which led fans to another website where the DA was defaced with clown makeup. Dentmobiles, Gotham City voter registration cards, a pop-up local news channel: the marketing campaign might have seemed excessive had the movie not so convincingly topped it. Ten years later, as films like Deadpool and Avengers: Infinity War try to reach those same heights of virality, The Dark Knight remains the measuring stick by which every superhero movie, and superhero villain, is measured. JN

Mad Max: Fury Road (2015)

Photograph: Jasin Boland/AP

In many ways, Fury Road is summer: arid, scorching, bright enough to be squinted at. The driving force behind all the high-impact driving is scarcity of water, the essence of life in a desert where death practically rises up from the burning sand. Even in the air-conditioned comfort of a multiplex auditorium in Washington DCs Chinatown, watching George Millers psychotic motor opera left this critic sweaty and parched. My world is fire and blood, warns the weary Max Rockatansky (Tom Hardy) in the scripts opening lines. Staggering out of a theater into the oppressive rays of the sun, it sure can feel that way.

Millers masterpiece fits into the summer blockbuster canon in a less literal capacity as well, striking its ideal balance of dazzling technical spectacle and massively-scaled emotional catharsis. There was plenty of breathless praise to go around upon this films 2015 release, much of it for the feats of practical-effects daring, but the hysterical extremes of feeling cemented its status as a modern classic. I cant deny that Ive watched the polecat sequence upwards of a dozen times, but Millers film truly comes alive in Furiosas howl of desperation, and in Maxs noble disappearance into the throng. CB

Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981)

Photograph: Alamy Stock Photo

Its the music, its the giant boulder, its the Old Testament mysticism, its the whip, its the Cairo Swordsman, its Harrison Fords crooked smile, its the bad dates, its Karen Allen drinking a sherpa under the table, its the melted faces and exploding heads. Its all these things plus having the good fortune of seeing this at the cinema at a very young age, therefore watching most of it through my terrified fingers. (Indy tells Marion to keep her eyes shut during the cosmic spooky ending; way ahead of you there!)

The modern blockbuster as we know it was created by Steven Spielberg with Jaws and George Lucas with Star Wars, so the hype was unmatched when the two collaborated in 1981 with Raiders of the Lost Ark. As a kid I had no idea this was a loving homage to cliffhanger serials from the 30s and 40s, I took it as pure adventure. The seven-and-a-half minute desert truck chase (I dont know, Im making thus up as I go) is probably the best action sequence in all of cinema (John Woos Hard Boiled does not have a horse, sorry), but watching as an adult one notices a lot of sophisticated humor, too. (Indy being too exhausted to make love to Marion, for example, is something that didnt connect when I was six.)

Its strange to think I watched these cartoon Nazis on VHS with my grandparents who had escaped the Holocaust, and no one benefits when you do the math to figure out how young Marion was when, as Indy puts it, you knew what you were doing. But for thrills, laughs and propulsive camerawork (though a little mild Orientalism), nothing tops this one. JH

Independence Day (1996)

Photograph: Everett/REX/Shutterstock

Short of actually calling their film Summer Blockbuster, rarely can a films height-of-summer release date been so central to a films raison detre. This being the mid-90s, when po-mo and self-referentiality was all the rage, brazenly hooking your tentpole film to 4 July was seen as a pretty smart idea.

Fortunately, all the ducks did line up in a row for ID4: a game-changing performance from Will Smith, Jeff Goldblum at (arguably) his funniest, a rousingly Clintoneque president in Bill Pullman and most importantly in that run-up to the millennium physical destruction on a gigantic scale. Much comment at the time was expended on the laser obliteration of the White House (an early shot from the Tea Party/Maga crowd?), but I personally cherish director Roland Emmerichs signature move of detonating cars in somersault formation. Like many other huge-budget films then and since, Independence Day was basically a tooled-up retread of cheap-as-chips format of earlier decades though who these days would roll such expensive dice on what is essentially an original script, with no comic book or toy branding as a forerunner? We shall never see its like again. AP

Aliens (1986)

Photograph: Allstar/20 CENTURY FOX/Sportsphoto Ltd./Allstar

An Aliens summer is one for moviegoers who prefer to sit in in darkened rooms when the sun is shining; the brutal confines of the fiery power plant make an excellent subliminal ad for air conditioning. In 1986, James Cameron took Ridley Scotts elegant, iconic horror template and turned it into an all-out action blockbuster, forcing Ripley once again to face down her nemeses in a breathless fug of claustrophobia, sweat and fear. Its relentlessly stressful and unbelievably thrilling.

I first saw Aliens many years after its initial release. Owing to its sizeable and long-lasting legacy, it was at once immediately familiar, yet also brisk and brutally fresh. I understood that it was a classic, but I wasnt prepared for just how good it is, for the pitch-perfect management of tension, the pace that never really lets up, the emotional pull. The maternal undertow of Ripleys protection of Newt, and the alien mirror of that, adds a level of heart unusual in most blockbusters, and her frustration at being a woman whose authority must be earned again and again, and then proven again and again, remains grimly relevant, 30 years on. Its also a total blast. Now get away from her, you bitch. RN

Jaws (1975)

Photograph: Fotos International/Getty Images

It is the great summer blockbuster ancestor the film that in 1975 more or less invented the concept of the event movie. And unlike all those other summer blockbusters, Steven Spielbergs Jaws is actually about the summer; it is explicitly about the institution of the summer vacation, into which the movie was being sold as part of the seasonal entertainment. It is about the sun, the sand, the beach, the ocean and the entirely justified fear of being eaten alive by an enormous shark with the appetite of a serial killer and the cunning of a U-boat commander. And more than that: it is about that most contemporary of political phenomena: the coverup, the town authorities at a seaside resort putting vacationers at risk by not warning them about the shark. The Jaws mayor has become comic shorthand for the craven and pusillanimous politician.

A blockbuster nowadays means spectacular digital effects, but this film is from an analogue world. It bust the block through brilliant film-making and an inspired score from John Williams, summoning up the shark with a simple two-note theme which became the most famous musical expression of evil since Bernard Herrmanns shrieking violin stabs in Psycho took the place of actual knife-slashing. I still remember the excitement of the summer of 1975, and the queues around the block at the Empire, in Watford, round the corner from the football ground. The inspired brevity of the title meant the word was repeated over and over again to fill the marquee display: JAWS JAWS JAWS as if they were screaming it! PB

Read more: http://www.theguardian.com/us