#and here I have an accent you can cut through with a chainsaw

[smuthospital]

🎃⭐️Texas Chainsaw Massacre x reader⭐️🎃

Art by: Minilev

Premise: You go hiking with a friend and this bitch has the audacity to leave you alone. You end up hitchhiking with some hippies, but their van gets a flat! Oh no! Good thing there's a farmhouse nearby. Maybe they can help

Note: I had this in the drafts for awhile. I decided to whip it out for halloween. Enjoy. Say one thing bad thats not constructive criticism and its a block. Tired of these fucking kids smh. Also, imagine everyone with a soulthern accent

-Dr. Smut

Minors DNI

Warning: Non-Con, side charicter death, mentions of gore, kidnapping, fem reader

"So uh..thanks for picking me up." You say with a nervous smile. You refrain from coughing as the strong smell of marijuana floods your nose. Right now, you're in a classic 70s Volkswagen van, hitchhiking through Texas. Your friend convinced you to go backpacking with her, but a quarterway through, she ditched you to continue the trip with her new boyfriend. Some junky she met at a gas station. You can't exactly turn tail and go home because she took the car, and stranded you in the middle of nowhere so, you had no choice, but to catch a ride with some hippies.

"No prob, sweet cheeks. Anything for a pretty lil' lady like yourself." The driver looks back at you for a moment and winks. You think he may like you. You cringe slightly. "Eddy has a crush on you! Ain't that right, Ed?" A girl next to you wearing a tie-dye crop top pokes Edds back a couple of times. "Well, who wouldn't?" He chuckles. You play with your fingers nervously. You've been driving along a dusty, desolate path through some empty part of Texas for a while now. You've always been perturbed by the idea of Texas. Americans and with their guns and hot temper and all. It seems you may have watched too many scary movies. You haven't seen a soul for miles, let alone a house, just tall grass and more tall grass.

The car suddenly jolts and you're all jostled around. The girl sitting next to you clings to you as the driver slams the brakes. You gasp for air, your heart pounding a mile a minute. "Huh!? W-what the!?" Edd shouts before hopping out to investigate. You cautiously slip out the back and join him. Edd lifts a spiked wire. It's still stuck in the now flat tire. "Some asshole must'a dropped it here while delivering somethin'," he says as he drops it back on the ground. It popped the back tires. You pull out your phone. No service. Of course.

"Do you have any spares?" You ask, hoping to get out of this creepy place. "Unfortunately these are the spares, sweet cheeks." He sighs. "Weren't you supposed to buy more, Ed?" Ann shouts from the window. "This is no time to argue! We have to get help!… Look, There's a farmhouse right there. Let's hope someone's home." He says, walking towards it.

You hesitantly follow them to the creepy house. "I'm gonna check the farm, you two knock on the door." Edd doesn't give anyone time to respond before he walks off. You walk up to the front door and Ann knocks. You feel like you're being watched. You shift from foot to foot nervously. A few minutes pass and no word. Not even a sound. "What the? Where's Edd? If no one was home, he should be back by now!" Ann looks around. You begin feeling incredibly anxious. "Let's go find that idiot," she says and walks off quickly, you follow behind her. You can't leave her to do it by herself so you agree. You walk over to the farm and see…the gate open.

"H..hello?" You call. "E-Edd?"…No response. The two of you cautiously walk into the house. It smells like wood and iron. You see a red smudge on the wall…weird. This is getting scary. "Ann…I think we sh-" You're cut off by a blood-curdling scream from Ann. You quickly go over to the open doorway she's looking at to see a horrific sight. Edd has been cut to pieces. You hold back bile in your throat and grab Ann. "Let's go!" You shout. She snaps out of her trance and follows you to the entryway, only for the two of you to halt in your tracks.

Standing there is a giant, his hulking frame filling the doorway. He's the scariest thing you've ever seen in your life. A mask covers half his face, and in his arms is a chainsaw. You make eye contact with the beast and scream. Ann yanks you deeper into the house, hoping to find an exit. The man follows you, hot on your trail. You see a back door and try to open it, but it's locked. Cassie then barely avoids losing her arm as she dodges the giant.

He hasn't tried to attack you yet. You grab a chair and smash it through a window. You pick up a plant and throw it at the man, who cornered Ann. He's completely unphased, but pauses and looks at you as if to warn you. You toss his warning to the wind and jump on his back. "Ann, go!" You scream. Ann runs towards the window but stops when another man shorter than the man you're currently on top of, smashes a hammer onto her head.

You hear a crack and she falls to the floor, limp. "Ann!" You cry. Your body was then slammed to the floor by the hulking, chainsaw-wielding psychopath. You whimper and crawl backwards. You hit a wall and he lifts his chainsaw towards you. You're thankful It's turned off. You close your eyes and wait for death. You feel the blade lightly touch your collarbone…and then gently move down between your breasts and to the junction between your spread legs…he rubs your thigh with the chainsaw lightly, as if thinking. You look up at him in confusion. He tosses the saw to the side and grabs your face in his large hand. He tilts your head from side to side, examining you.

"Think she's pretty, Tommy?" The man who just attacked Ann asked.

'Tommy', the giant holding your face grunts and nods. You're horrified. Does this monster think you're pretty? "Yeah, I agree, Tommy. Good thing you didn't turn her into dinner… though, I don't think you were gonna. You had your eye on her since their car landed in our road trap." He laughed. Trap!? This was all a setup!? Did he say dinner!? Your head is spinning.

Tommy looped his bur waist arm around your waist and hoisted you up, placing you on his shoulder like you weighed a small sack of potatoes. "H-hey! What are you doing? Put me down!" You shout, pounding your hands on his back, but it doesn't even look like he knows you're hitting him. You hear footsteps and look up to see an old woman looking over at you. “P-please help me” you whimper. She smiles down at you sweetly.

"Well, I do say, you sure found yourself a sweet little thing. Ain't that right, Thomas.” The hulking figure above you grunts in agreement. You cry as you realize she has no intention of helping you in the least. “She has a pretty voice too…Take care of my Tommy, girl!” She warns, glaring down at you. “Tommy. Get'er to pop out a few farmhands, will you?" All blood drains from your face. They…want you to…what? Tommy carries you down into a dark, creepy basement. You almost puke. You see dead bodies hanging from hooks and dismembered limbs and bones strewn about….is that Edd? You're carried down a hallway and into a room. The room is empty besides a dirty mattress in a corner. He throws you on the mattress and begins to undress you immediately.

You scream and try to stop him, but he's just too strong. "P-Please stop!" You cry. Tears flow down your cheeks and you hiccup. Tommy leans down and wipes away your tears, not calming you in the slightest. He strips you down to your bra and panties and takes a good look at you, drinking up your body. You can see the lust in his eyes. He grunts in excitement and removes his bloody apron. You curl your body up and hide yourself from him. He softly strokes your cheek and hugs you like you're a teddy bear. He's oddly gentle, but you feel he's losing patience. He taps your shoulder a few times, silently urging you to show yourself to him. when you don't, his taps become a little harder. He grunts in annoyance. He presses himself into you, trying to get closer. You feel his hard cock through his pants and try to shuffle back.

He grunts in frustration, yanking your arm and knees apart, forcing your body to reveal. You need to do something!…" Please,… don't hurt me, Tommy" He only stares into your eyes. You can see emotions swirl in his eyes before he lets go of you and stomps out of the room. Looks like he's giving you time to cooperate. You bring your hands to your face and sob. You look up. You have to get out of here! You hope to god you can do this. You get up and tip-toe towards the door as quietly as you can. You slowly open it and slide it open just enough for you to fit through, which proves to be quite difficult as it's very heavy. You don't know how the monster did it before.

You continue to quietly make your way down the dark hallway, missing the dark shadow to your side. You try not to look around too much at the carnage before making your way up the stairs. You find the window you previously broke now boarded up. You take a deep breath, preparing to make a run for the front door. You haven't heard anyone yet so you think you're still in the clear. You make it to the front door and just as you're about to try and open it, your body is slammed against the wall, your breath knocked out of you. You cough and groan. You feel dizzy. You look up to see Tommy staring down at you with a look of anger. Was he waiting for you to try to escape?

You grit your teeth before lifting your knee to knee him in the crotch, but he anticipates it and grabs your leg, lifting it. He makes space for himself between your legs and lets his large hands roam your bare midriff and up to your breasts where he proceeds to rip off your bra, revealing your chest to him. You whimper in pain and try to hide yourself, earning yourself a shove into the wall, banging your head slightly.

The corners of your eyes go dark for a few moments. Your head stops spinning when he leans down and slides his tongue up your cheek. His other hand reaches down and roughly grabs at your clothed cunt. He makes sounds of excitement once again. Saying you're terrified would be an understatement. You feel his fingers cup and wiggle around down there, not knowing what to do, but liking the feeling of doing it.

You again try to shove him off as best you can. He grunts in annoyance and moves the hand previously on your chest up to your throat. Your whimpers and please turn into choked gasps and gurgles as he squeezes. He gets even closer and you can feel something hard rub against your lower stomach. "Get her, Tommy, get her!" You hear from behind him. He grunts in response and tears off your underwear. He brings it to his nose and inhales. His eyes roll back a bit as if smelling the most heavenly scent imaginable.

You now realize he's probably never held a woman before and he's completely deprived of any sort of warm human touch. "Common, Tommy, gimme that! You get to have her, the least I should get is her undies!" His brother pleads. Tommy contemplates holding the small bit of cloth in front of him before tossing it back, which his brother catches and desperately presses to his face, moaning into the fabric like it's an oxygen mask.

Tommy grabs your hair and begins dragging you back down to the basement. You scream in pain and grab onto his hand for any relief as you're forced to the ground. "No! Please! Ahh Stop!" You cry out. He drags your naked body down the blood-crusted steps and makes his way back to the room you dread. He tosses you onto the mattress once again. By the time you manage to get up on your knees, you hear a clinking sound and turn to see him undoing his belt.

You crawl into the corner as he gets on his knees before you, his shadow casting over you. He unbuttons his shirt and lets it fall off. You now know that trying to inflict pain on him is futile. Muscles that scream he could crush you like a soda can. Not only is he as big as a fridge, but he also looks like an off-season pro wrestler. You can see a very prominent bulge struggling to free itself. The size of the tent itself is intimidating.

His eyes lock on yours as he slowly unzips his belt and frees his aching cock. You look away and feel his weight settle on the bed closer to you. You can feel his heavy breathing on the side of your face. He grabs your legs and yanks you beneath him, positioning himself at your entrance. You feel his bulbous tip rub up and down your folds. "Please…" Your eyes widen and you trail off as your eyes lower to what's prodding at your cunt. You want to look away, but morbid curiosity wins. It's almost unbelievable. His cock like himself, is too big. It's long, very thick and veiny. It looks like a beer can. You can just tell he's smiling under his mask.

He slowly pushes the tip in. You try to scoot back, but he grips your hips with his massive hands and pushes forward, but fails entry, seeming too big. He grunts in frustration. He tries again, this time managing to push the tip in. You scream. It hurts so bad. "No, y-you're too big!" you gasp, squirming in place. He holds your hips tighter and continues pushing forward, impaling you on his cock, all the way to the base.

Your mind blanks. You're unable to think cohesively. You're in so much pain. He lets out a groan of pleasure and doesn't wait for you to adjust to his size and just starts moving. It feels like your organs are moving around to accommodate his massive size. You look down to see a large bulge in your lower stomach. You whimper and groan as he thrusts. "W-why?" You croak. He looks up at you before lifting your knees, pressing them to your chest and leaning on you. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you feel him push deeper into your womb, the tip of his cock threatening to push through your cervix. He nuzzles his face into the side of your neck, cooing softly to you affectionately while playing with your hair as if to say 'I love you'.

You cry beneath him, moans being forced from your lips as his hips plow into yours. Tommy grabs your breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers. You can hear him making happy sounds of some sort between grunts. He suddenly picks you up and gets off the bed with you in his arms, skewering you on his cock. He raises you up and down like a human fleshlight. You uncontrollably moan into his shoulder. His hands grope your ass as he starts to force you up and down faster. It feels good. You can't help but feel shame.

He grunts loudly and forces himself as deep as he can. You whine as you feel a rush of hot cum flow into you. Rope after rope, he fills you up. You feel so hot inside. Your stomach bloats from the sheer volume he fucked into you. He pants and looks at you, rubbing your cheek with his. He slowly lifts you off his cock, cum pouring from your abused cunt before setting you down on the mattress. He covers you with a thick warm blanket and brushes your hair from your face, stroking it with his thumb lovingly. If you knew this was gonna be a one-way trip, you would've brought some pillows.

[taeaura]

Thomas {Hewitt}'s Voice

Because I swear he can talk 🙏

Hii - I’ve been thinking about this for a while now: What would Thomas’ voice sound like? I decided to waste my time {watching TCM interviews / bts} so that I could gauge what Thomas’ voice would sound like.

Evidently, Thomas would have an accent reminiscent of those around him. Luda Mae, Henrietta, and Kathryn / The Tea Lady have the most authentic ‘Texan’ accents out of the family, considering those actresses are the only ones from Texas. Hoyt / R Lee Ermey is from Kansas, and Old Monty / Terrence Evans was born in Pensylvania. Andrew Bryniarski {Thomas} was also born in Pensylvania - Which is very evident in his accent in later interviews.

Things to consider: Bryniarski has been suspected of the usage of sterroids and alcohol abuse - Which can alter your voice - This is extremely prevalent when comparing modern interviews to older interviews.

Bryniarski’s voice is slightly nasally, a bit raspy, and on the deeper-end of the spectrum. At times, his pitch is average - Others, it’s lower. His voice never gets ‘high’ when he’s speaking, but it can through non-serious or extreme measures. I.E; When Thomas' leg gets cut {1:19:15}, Erin chops off his arm {1:25:07}.

Speech Pattern:

Thomas' vocal cords don't appear to be damaged, just scarcely used. This could make speaking a difficult and uncomfortable {mentally, physically} task for Thomas. It's a chore rather than second-nature. This also applies to his oral and mastication muscles. The only time he uses his mastication muscles is when he eats - which is AT MAX three times a day. I'd say maybe just two. This would lead to muscle atrophy - weakening or loss of mass in the muscles. When we talk, the neck and tongue muscles {Strap muscles, Thyroid muscle group, Cricoarytenoid muscle group, Genioglossus, hyoglossus, palatoglossus, styloglossus, Superior lingualis, inferior lingualis, vertical lingualis, and transverse lingualis} do the majority of the work.

Considering Thomas' mastication muscles are weaker, he'd {most likely} have difficulty pronouncing "t", "k", "d", "g", and "r". Thomas would also be prone to slurring, mispronunciation, slow speech / common pauses, enunciate the wrong syllable - or enunciate equally, and inconsistent speech / errors.

Here's clips of Andrew speaking on the TCM set - I figured clips of him on / around set would be more accurate to how Tommy speaks JUST BECAUSE Andrew would be in the headspace of Thomas during this time.

{Warning: The audio quality is so ass I apologize 😞}

I think Thomas' voice would be more like Bryniarski's in the third video - where he's talking about Leatherface's relation to the chainsaw | 'Leatherface's best friend is his chainsaw.' {Which I will be making a post about that specific statement.}

Obviously - Thomas would have a southern {Texan, specifically} accent, though I don't know how 'rough' or 'thick' his accent would be. I have an inkling that Thomas would have a rasp because of his weakened vocal cords. Probably lots of depth to his voice, though it wouldn't be excruciatingly deep. Most likely reminiscent of Andrew's pitch - With minor changes depending on the situation, energy levels, hydration, headspace, and how much he's spoken that day {I'm projecting here ☝️🤓}. His preferred form of communication would be minimal, blunt statements, using as little words as possible. Simple 'yes'' and 'no's' would be portrayed through nodding / shaking of the head. Directions would be communicated via pointing.

For example;

"Have you eaten yet? / Are you hungry?" = "You eat?"

"I like green." = "Green, good."

This is NOT because Thomas is dumb - Contrary to popular belief of the town. It's because talking is a chore for Thomas. It's something he has to think and put effort into as opposed to yapping your ear off. He'd also only speak if it was really important. I doubt he'd be a chatterbox, but he'd make noise like grunts or groans - Some incomprehensible sounds that are only distinguishable by those who've been around him long enough. You'll get the hang of it - Recognizing certain sounds correlate with specific experiences or responses. Do NOT try to imitate them - He'll glare and shut off socially; Which is the opposite of what you want if you want to get close to Thomas. {And Luda Mae would beat you black n' blue for making fun of Tommy.}

--

tldr; Thomas would {most likely} have a voice reminiscent of Andrew Bryniarski's - Slightly raspy, heavily molded by a Texan accent and pronunciation issues.

____

[mj-iza-writer]

Rough grumpy Caretaker... how I love them. -MJ

Warning.... swear words used.

Caretaker peaked in to check on Whumpee, they had just put them down for a nap.

They slightly opened the door and caught Whumpee darting into the bed.

"You better have a really good reason for being out of that bed", Caretaker opened the door further.

"I'm sorry Caretaker, I....", Whumpee started to violently cough.

"Oh Whumpee fuck off and give me a break", Caretaker slipped into his old British sailer accent.

"I'm sorry. I wanted to grab my book, and then you came along", Whumpee pleaded.

"I didn't put you to bed to read. You are very sick and need to sleep. That temperature of yours could freaken cook an egg", Caretaker sighed as they started to tuck Whumpee back into the blankets.

Whumpee groaned as the blankets were violently shoved under them.

"Ouch, can we be a little gentler please", Whumpee winced, "I am sick after all."

"Oh hush", Caretaker held a cup of water and offered Whumpee a drink, "now if I come back to this room again and you are up, I will tie you to the bed. Am I clear? I better hear happy Whumpee snores."

Whumpee grinned.

"I mean it, unless you are getting a drink or going to the bathroom do not get up", Caretaker sighed as they set the cup down, "work with me here. Your complexion is horrendous, I mean, white paint has more color. Plus, your trash bin is overflowing with tissue for the second time today."

Whumpee nodded, "I'm sorry Caretaker."

Caretaker ran his hand through Whumpee's sweaty hair, "that's better. Now, we need to focus on you getting better. Please try to get some rest, I'll have some food and medicine ready for you when you wake up... okay?"

Whumpee nodded again, "thankyou."

Caretaker waited thirty minutes before checking on Whumpee again ... thankfully Whumpee had finally listened and was snoring away.

"My happy little chainsaw", Caretaker marveled at how loud Whumpee was as they stepped into the room.

They grabbed the thermometer and tucked it under Whumpee's tongue without disturbing their sleep. Even the ding didn't wake Whumpee.

"Temp is a little better now", Caretaker looked the thermometer over, "not where I'm wanting it to be though."

Caretaker sighed, "shit", he whispered, "I might have to take you in for some better medicine. What I have might not be cutting it."

Caretaker was fixing some soup for Whumpee when they heard them moving around.

"Dinner's almost ready if you want to come down here", Caretaker called.

Whumpee struggled down the hall.

"I just woke up and puked", Whumpee frowned.

"Let me guess, you didn't get to the bucket in time", Caretaker sighed, "where did it end up?""

"I did get to the bucket, but some got on my blanket to... sorry", Whumpee looked down.

"Okay", Caretaker sighed, "go ahead and eat, I'll clean it up."

Whumpee was hunched over when Caretaker came back.

"Whumpee?", Caretaker panicked, "Whumpee?"

Whumpee jumped up and started to mumble.

"You're going to the hospital... now", Caretaker hurried.

"No, no. I'm fine", Whumpee mumbled with a slur.

"Don't argue, you're fucking going to the hospital. You're beyond fine", Caretaker went to help Whumpee stand.

"Okay, but I can walk", Whumpee started to get up.

"Oh, you want to walk by yourself. Okay, that sounds fun to watch. Okay, let's see", Caretaker crossed his arms.

Whumpee started to walk, but fell forward.

"Shit", Whumpee moaned.

"That's what I thought. Alright come on, work with me. I'm not dragging your ass, but you won't make it by yourself", Caretaker threw one of Whumpee's arms over his shoulder and led them to the car.

Whumpee's temperature was checked on arrival at the hospital. It had jumped back up again.

Caretaker helped Whumpee into a chair and followed the staff as they rushed them back.

Caretaker sighed as they started to fill out the forms, "Whumpee", Caretaker muttered to himself, "pain in my ass. You're lucky I love you... at least a little bit."

Whumpee squinted their eyes open, the morning sun met them.

They jumped up realizing this was not their bedroom.

"Easy", they felt Caretaker's hand grab them, "you're okay, your fever got really bad. I had to bring you to the hospital."

Whumpee rubbed their head, "I've got a major headache", they looked around the room, "the last thing I remember was sitting down at the table, I don't remember anything else."

"Well, the staff here has been very helpful in getting your fever to break, they got you on some medication and fluids", Caretaker sighed.

"That's good", Whumpee leaned back again, "I still don't feel great, plus, this headache."

"We'll get you better", Caretaker pressed the call button, "I promise."

Whumpee nodded as they laid down, "thankyou Caretaker."

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all. @villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath @porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13 @notpeppermint @cyborg0109 @idontreallyexistyet @thebejeweledwatercat @painfulplots @whumpbump @everythingsscary @skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr

[deniable-masterpiece]

What about the reader is terrified of spiders, so when johnny corners them, they back into a wall where there's webs and spiders. They freak out, preferring to jump into the arms of a killer than have spiders on them.

Id love to know how johnny would react, if he'd be surprised and try to talk them through their fear or would torture them by making them touch the webs. (This would definitely be me because im terrified of spiders 😅😅)

johnny slaughter x gender neutral!reader

a/n — IM SCARED OF THEM TOO. FUCK GODS GREEN EARTH NO ONE WOULD EVER WILLINGLY MAKE THOSE FREAKs. (but bees scare me more and I injected just a tad of that in here too cause they can FLY. ohhhhh if spiders could fly too it'd be over for me😭) btw let me know if Johnny needs to be written differently, I'm still getting used to writing a southern character since I usually write characters with transatlantic accents and dialect and alll!

summary — check the ask! basically the same, I just tried to make Johnny somewhere in the middle between mean and comforting + ambitious ending to the best I could

warnings — implied harm, mentions of blood (it's really tame)

word count — 2k

~~~ story under the cut!

You had to get out of this place. You didn’t know what this was, all you knew was that you were underground, trapped in a maze with psychos trying their hardest to get you. Screams came above as well as below, where you were. It was dark in some areas and barely lit in others, letting you know that there must have been a way up. There was a guy with a freaking chainsaw! But worst of all, there were spiders. Everywhere. They rappelled down from the rusty light fixtures and sheets of metal tinning the roof of each tunnel with a thin glistening string that you had to be mindful of to avoid. The blood on your face was no match for a spider coming into contact with it, or any part of your body for that matter. You couldn’t count how many times you had walked right into one moving itself down a line of silk. In every crevice and crack, in all the hiding spots, and even weaving little webs between each rickety step leading up from the basement.

The place was already confusing enough as is, but when you reached the top step—where the high Texas sun met the line of darkness enshrouding the basement—you knew you were in the clear from those eight-legged freaks. Now, you just had to deal with the ones with two legs, buzzing around like worker bees trying to get their sweet, sweet blood-red honey. 

The start of it was easy—their footsteps strong and heavy and the creaking of the floorboards gave away their positions, so you knew what rooms to avoid in their farmhouse. One guy was too busy setting up traps around the various places you could squeeze yourself through, and the blonde girl a few feet away from him was waiting to “add a little something” as she put it. You didn’t want to stick around to find out what she meant, so you found freedom through an unlocked door at the back of the house. Their front yard was a mess of old cars and fencing found on farms in the area—you had driven by enough when traveling to Newt to recognize them. They were used for cattle, but their purpose here was to keep people in with its complex layout, and you were almost out of the dilapidated mess.

Down along the path was a shack with what you hoped would be more supplies. Something like another thin object to slide into the various padlocks these freaks had installed, or something sharp to defend yourself with. Whatever it was, it just had to be something useful. You did your best not to get spotted, keeping away from the beaten path by ducking into the tall grass for most of your walk down to the shack. The first door you noticed on the exterior was unlocked and opened with ease like they weren’t trying to protect the things inside—or stop anyone from leaving. But everything looked to be personal on the inside, intimately lived in with a mess of wrappers and laundry and dirty dishes crowding up such a small space. He was a worker bee with no time for himself.

And just like that, you could hear his buzzing in the form of footsteps from outside. You moved to hide behind the side of his couch, crouching and hoping that it covered enough of your figure to make it seem like you weren’t there. His boots were heavy on the ground outside and heavier on the wood floor. He had little care for the door, slamming it open with a loud bang. Maybe he would do a quick sweep around the room and leave, but the words uttered under his breath proved you wrong. “They’re always so careless…”

He must have been tracking you, and you wondered for how long. Maybe that’s why it had been so easy to get down to this place—he wanted you to come here. While you were hidden behind his couch, you took the brief opportunity to map the area out. Everything was either too big or too risky to run for if you wanted to fight back, but there was a slit in the wall furthest from you. It looked like a piece of it had fallen off, creating the perfect diffusion in the house’s cracks for your escape. The only thing now was deciding when to run, when to risk it all, and expose yourself for a brief moment before you slipped through the little mousehole.

But that never happened. Your window of opportunity escaped faster than you when you entered this building because the man’s footsteps were steady, straight, and determined. He didn’t miss a single beat and rounded his couch in seconds upon entering the place. You could see his fingers tooling with the knife in his hands, preparing to keep a firm grip on it as he slashed and sliced. He went for his first swing, missing as you stood up and made a dash for the slit in the wall. You still intended on running, even if he had already found you.

“You thought you could hide in my stink? When this is all over, I’ll add that pretty face of yours to the collection.” The voice sounded painfully close to you, and you could feel the swish of air as he swung again with his knife. He didn’t land the hit but in your attempt to dodge it, you moved too far to one side and came into contact with the wall to your left. Your exit was so close, but he closed in on you, making it impossible to reach unless you intended to overpower the man with sheer strength alone. 

With your back pressed flat against the wall, you had no choice but to accept what was going to come to you. That was until you felt a sensation along your neck and arms. It was this light, almost invisible touch but you knew it all too well. Just one strand of it needed to ghost your skin, and the rest of your body would light up with fear—thinking that the silky sensation of a spider’s web was all over you. It was irrational, but also completely sane. Those eight-legged freaks were quick to weave webs and they could be crawling all over you right now! You couldn’t stand the thought of one being on you or near you, let alone multiple. In your panic, you moved away from the wall and towards the man in front of you. Who cares if he had a knife and a murderous intent? Those spiders had eight legs, were probably poisonous, and would bite you the first chance they got, at least this guy would only do one of those when you were in his arms. Your arms were between your body and his, feeling the reassurance of the fabric of his tattered black tank. He seemed to be happy by the outcome of your reaction, but he didn’t know what caused it other than his own ego.

“Good, you’re makin’ this easy for me. I’ll be nice and make it hurt a little less.” He laughed, sounding delighted before it faded into something sinister. He spoke again but with a gruff tone, then confusion followed, “Playtime—huh?”

Johnny noticed that you weren’t looking at him with pleading eyes. The begging he was used to hearing, the same kind he would chuckle and grin at before turning those cries into screams never came. Instead, your head was turned back to look at the decently sized web spun up against the wall. It filled out the entire corner and it was almost impossible to not touch it when he backed you into that part of his shack. 

“The hell is your problem?” He asked, “Do those things bother ya?”

You nodded your head. When you did look back towards him, he was met with a frustrated look with outlines of fear twisting your face and twinging your voice. “Why haven’t you killed that thing?”

“He ain’t hurtin’ nobody!” Johnny defended himself.  “I like to think that me and him have a… a similar connection and he eats the mosquitoes takin’ all the blood form ya that I want to drain, but I’ll get rid of ‘em if it means you’ll get your priorities straight.”

Johnny wasted no time moving around you and getting to work on the spider’s web. This was your chance to run, the hole in the wall just a few feet away as you backed up to give him some room. But you didn’t go anywhere, you stood and watched as he tooled his knife in circles, spindling it until roughly half of his blade was covered in a spool of cobwebs with a few spiders too stunned to move resting on it. 

He turned back around, holding the blade close enough to himself that it was making you uncomfortable just seeing it. You imagined them crawling under his gloves, laying eggs, and hatching a million spider babies in the few seconds they were under there, and then a flurry would crawl out from underneath and create a sleeve of themselves over his arm.

“Could you… get rid of it?” You asked, wincing at the sight of the spiders. They weren’t even moving—but maybe they were preparing to jump like some of them do. 

Johnny was fed up by this point. He started to feel as if he had gone after the worst of the victims by tracking you. “Aw hell, that thing is more scared of you than you are of it!”

“I just… hate them,” you shuddered. Your eyes darted up to his face, taking solace in that as it was a much better sight than the wiry spiders he was handling. You tried to think of something else to, and you ended up saying something smart back to the unreadable stranger. “And your knife won’t be much use if you can’t, uh, stab me.”

You could hear him complaining to himself as he brushed past you, “I should make you lick this for giving me trouble.”

But he never did. He marched right outside, making sure you followed close behind him with a wave of his covered hand. It gave you a second to think while he was distracted. Why was he being so nice? He was part of the same group that had you strung up by the arms hours ago, and now he was clearing his place of the spiders—which, he would have a lot of work to do if you were to stay here. The sheer number of them would make you call an exterminator for the entire state of Texas; this place felt like their central hive. Your thoughts were interrupted when you stepped outside, and you two stood on the flattened dirt path leading back up to the house you had just escaped from. Johnny had stopped, turning back to point the blade at your face.

“See?” He said, bringing the blade closer to you. He got a kick out of seeing you squirm, but you had an underlying trust that he wouldn’t do anything too impulsive like throwing it at you. “Didn’t move an inch.”

He bent down, kneeling to keep himself steady as he pinched the part of his knife where the silvery steel met the molded handle and, with one clean sweep, wiped the spiders and their webs clean off onto the ground. He stood back up and pressed his boot down into the dirt. You watched with your own eyes as the spiders were obliterated into nothing but mangled remains. For extra insurance, he swiped the blade of his knife across his jean-clad thigh to make sure it was clean. Then, he turned back to you with a proud look on his face.

“There we go.” He trailed off, his eyes darkening at the realization that all of your attention was back on him. “Now, where were we…?”

[brokenmusicboxwolfe]

Well, I guess that’s it for the beaver pond coming back even if the rain returns.

Today when I went out there I heard chainsaws and machinery. So I went to investigate. On one of the properties on the other side of the swamp, the one with the other end of the beaver dam, they were cutting and clearing.

For an hour I lurked, watching as best I could through the trees and listening. It’s not like I could walk over there and talk to them after all the rain the other day made it too soft. I couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, but that largely was the result of my inability to understand local accents

Yeah, I know that sounds odd. I’ve lived here all my life so I shouldn’t have any trouble at all. And yet I always have. I can recognize the patterns, the rhythms, such I can tell you they were almost certainly white male locals, but even when talking face to face I do a lot of nodding and “uh-huh” while my brain scrambles to decipher them. There is a character in the King of the Hill animated series that talks in what sounds like a muttering ramble with occasional words and a general sense of meaning you can tease out if you concentrate. Well, that’s what almost every conversation with my neighbors feels like.

Anyway, I could make out just enough to feel sure that they are going to tear out their side of the beaver dam along with cutting trees.

No beaver dam means no pond in the swamp. I’d already suspected something had happened to the beavers**, so the old dam was the only keeping the pond from draining. No pond means not only will I lose the beauty of the place, but a dramatic change in the plants and animals I get to look at.

Two days ago I saw a mink in the swamp. A mink!! I hadn’t even known they were out there. The otters and geese and those little carnivorous flowers and crayfish and….

And now the swamp really will go dry as drought after drought hits.

And a dry swamp means they will be able to log out there. I will not only have to dry to make sure they don’t cross the line, but have one more thing I have to defend if my brother needs to log our side.

But TBH, having the beaver pond stolen away when it’s my place to find peace and happiness bothers me most.

I swear this year has been engineered specifically to break me.

And lost a part of my camera out in the woods, and I needed to hunt for it, but it went out of my head completely. I have sooooo much to do, but I may go back to look and be really LOUD about it so those folks will know I’m there. I can’t save the beaver dam, but I can save our trees from the encroachment people around here have when they think no one is watching. Yeah, it’s a swamp in a woods but I am watching!

**I dunno, but last I knew there was still a bounty on beavers here and the folks on the other side of the swamp like shooting things anyway.

[pink-strawberry-kissess]

Re4 Remake with Leon Kennedy Actor, Nick Apostolides & Heisenberg actor Neil Newbon and Tom De Ville

i’ll only be taking note of anything that i think is interesting but please watch or listen to the whole stream if you want to know other stuff that happens

WHY DID HE (NEIL) POINT HIS GUN AT ASHLEY TO PUT DOWN THE LADDER SJKDFBSKJFS

neil IS REALLY JUST LEAVING ASHLEY BEHIND SJFDSJKSFBS

neil said *middle finger* BYE ASHLEY

i have a feeling he might not like ashley sjkbdfskjfdbs (he’s probably joking)

nick is not going to back seat game lol

they are going to have a bad time, he (neil) is not keeping track of ashley lmao

nick did blow up ashley and kicked her in the head in his own gameplay

“THAT DOG WAS A FUCKING DICKHEAD” 32 minutes in. neil thinks the dog is a dickhead

34 minutes in, nick says “Leon Fucking Kennedy” in an accent lol

question section starts at minute 41

nick is eating oreos again

one of nick’s favourite leon lines are “the bingo line,” and he didn’t want to spoil the other lines since neil hasn’t gotten there in the game yet

in game mechanics, nick did almost none of the mocap for it. he thinks it was done in japan with another team. (almost all internally in japan) (tbh i’m not 100% what he means by this and it’s not clarified) (EDIT: i think he means that anything that wasn’t a cut scene he did not do any mocap work)

nick does not have final say in anything, he was not allowed to change anything at the end of the day

he was allowed to suggest some lines, but capcom gets the final say

47 minutes, he said he vibes with the re4r team a lot and he said he had a bit more fun with this version of leon. he got more collaborative liberties in re4r

nick had been working for leon’s character for 6 years at this point

he was “allowed to be more of a cowboy” minute 49

he said that the building show he’s working on has helped him a lot with gratitude and how it applied to how he characterized leon as well for re4r

nick has been a fan of re4 for 18 years

neil loves how leon opens doors “it’s unnecessarily flexing,” (it actually reminded me of how aragorn opens doors in the lord of the rings lmao)

neil was born in the 70s lol 1hr01 

actually, yeah why does the photo say 1981???? but it’s like more like 1891 maybe it was an error????

1hr07 nick says “leon needs a shower cap” lol

question section number 2 is 1hr13

nick’s fave is double stuff oreos

nick did not do the round house kick in mocap

nick also did not do the death scenes in mocap, he mostly just did the cut scenes. i guess that’s what he means about the game mechanics he didn’t mocap that

he did the facial and voice over for the death scenes though

nick’s favourite death scene is the axe death with the three cracks at the neck

neil’s favourite is the chainsaw through the chest death

1hr17 nick says “miranda, that bitch.” for trying to do one of heisenberg’s line

neil every few seconds, “ashley’s dead”

omg neil is refusing to sell the fish because neil played gavin and oh god i forgot his KAMSKI in detroit become human and one of the things was you can save the fish in that game so he’s refusing to sell the fish in this game lol

1hr30 “I can also sell Ashley Graham apparently, which is worrying.”

andre (va for luis) got luis’s jacket made!

1hr33 neil “IM GONNA LEAVE LUIS TO HIS DEATH CAUSE HE’S A FUCKING DICK.”

1hr42 neil does the leon suplex

nick apparently died at least four times during the first cabin rush scene with luis

1hr48 nick has a feature film coming sometime in the summer! maybe netflix! it’s called aftermath!

1hr57 nick mocap the guy who got squashed by the door (OH I THINK HE’S LYING LOL)

ASHLEY HAS CONSUMPTION SJFKBSDFKJS

ughhh this stopped before mother would’ve showed up lol but here are more questions!

okay nevermind they had no more questions!

maybe next week they might do another session (never mind they’ll figure it out!)

nick’s next convention is maryland may, 26-27, 2023

he’s going to do more streams with more actors!!!! hopefully lily soon!!!

they raided nicole and andre afterwards! :D

[sadlysober]

like to watch you suffer

Dream Team roomates x gn!reader Summary: Youre playing a scary game and your roommates come in to laugh at you support you. Warnings: swearing, shitty description of bloody/creepy things. lmk when you find any! A/N: just watched Tommy’s fnaf stream and i died. If you have any tips, requests or ideas, feel free to send them in :)

Starting up Twitch with hesitation as you check your subscriber count one last time to be sure. You reached your subgoal on your last stream and promised the chat to play a spooky game. Playing mostly family friendly games and usually with a group of friends, you weren’t exactly excited to be playing 2017′s Resident Evil 7. Clips from Jack and Felix only made you dread this moment even more. Appearantly your chat loves seeing you scared shitless.

You start your stream as you normally would: greating the chat, answering some dono’s. “I actually hate you guys for making me do this. But we’re gonna try it anyways. I have a slight idea what’s coming and am mentally not prepared, so let’s see how long I will last before crapping my pants.” You force a smile at your camera and start the game.

The first hour was doable, a couple of jumpscares and some bloody stuff. A few of the jumpscares made you squeal, while the disgusting cutscenes made you want to throw up. Losing your focus on the game as you read some of the dono’s. A lot of them were about the game and people wishing you a good stream. A couple of questions about the Dream Team popped up. “What is George up to? I think he might be streaming as well I’m not -” The loud noise in your headphones, accompanied by a bloody faces canabal with a chainsaw made you shriek, followed by a ton of swear words and you taking of your headphones, rolling your chair away from your desk.

As you sit a couple of feet away from your desk you hear a door closing and footsteps in the hallway. You open your door and call out. “Gogy?” Your chat can’t hear the boy answering you. “You busy? No? Want to join my suffering? Yeah ofcourse you do, bring a chair!” The dark haired boy walks into your room rolling his chair in, a tad too excited. Your chat went insane, seeing him come through the door.

“You already died? Damn, N/N.” He teased, sitting down next to you. His legs propped up on his chair, face popping in and out of the frame.

“Would you like to try, Gogy?” You mimicked his accent, causing George to lean back into his chair. “Alright, goodluck not dying.” He said in the saltiest voice he could. You put your headphones back on, plugging in a second pair for George and handing him the headphones. You continue playing the game, almost getting used to the disgustingness of the house.

“N/N, I have to agree with chat, seeing you being a scaredy cat is hilarious.” In the meantime you’re turning into Y/N “I am going to shit myself” Y/L/N. George just laughs at you while hanging out with the chat. Yet he too flinches at the jumpscares. “Guys, the reason you can’t see George right now is because he is a big pussy.” You laugh, recieving a soft punch to your arm in return.

Another half hour of you and George sitting on the edges of your chairs until Nick decides to have some fun. After hearing you yell a couple of times he’d tune into your stream. He waited for the right moment; you had just finished a cut scene and was wandering though the dark house that felt like a maze. The squeaky sound of the door opening made you lean back in your chair a bit more, as if something or someone would jump out of the room behind it.

The door behind you flew open with a loud bang, causing you and George to yielp. Followed by another jumpscare in the game. “Fuck you Sapnap, you little shit cunt fuck you-” You utter under your breath as you try your best not to die in game.

“Sapnap!” George whined. “What? I heard there was a party.” The boy stood in your doorframe, a cheeky grin covering his face. “Can I join?” He somewhat asked, already pulling out a chair to sit down besides you.

“Fine, but no more messing around or I’ll end the fucking stream guys.” Your chat excitedly greated him. Spamming you there will be a savepoint in a bit. “Alright guys I’m just gonna go for one more savepoint, if i don’t die from adrenaline overdose by then.”

The boys on your sides bickered while you were trying to find the way out. “Go left.” Nick hinted. “Don’t listen to him, N/N.” George told you. They were like some twisted kind of devil/angel pair on your shoulders. “Have you played this before Gogy?” Nick spat, looking over to the boy on the other side of you. “No, but they came from-” He tried to defend himself, before getting cut off. “That’s what I thought, leave it to the pro then.” 

Trusting Nick’s gut you followed his instruction and went left. The sound of your footsteps are accompanied by heavy breathing, you look around with the little light you have. When you don’t immediatly die and thank Nick for the advice. A loud noice makes you turn around as you watch some creepy dolls fall down. “The sounds are honestly the creepiest thing about this game.” You say, continuing to walk around the room, looking for clues. Nick watches you, unbothered by the scary sounds as he doesn’t have any headphones on. “Chat why do you keep spamming ‘DEATH’? I’m not dying, I am clearly a pro.” You say proudly, not being as scared and jumpy as you had been. Yet the grin appearing on Nick’s face is telling you you should be. Moments later it became clear why. A loud screech, followed by one of the residents running towards you holding an axe and piercing the weapon through your chest.

The boy next to you dies of laughter, panting as he tries to catch his breath. “Your face- oh my god you face.” You shake your head at the boy. “Why did I even trust you in the first place. I thought you knew where the exit was.” You say, a tiny bit dissapointed in yourself for falling for it, but also laughing as George almost falls out of his chair from laughter. “Oh, but I do know where the exit is.” Nick teases. You look the boy dead in the eye and start debating whether or not to continue the game.

“100 subs and they’ll continue.” George tells your chat. “Guys, no-” It only took a couple of seconds until the counter was halfway there.

dreamwastaken has gifted 50 subs: go until the next savepoint

"Let’s go, N/N, you heard the big man.” You look straight into your camera and sigh. Alt-tabbing to swearword at Clay on Discord before going back to the game. “I hate every single one of those 50 subs and Dream. One more savepoint and that’s it!” 

George nudges your arm, asking if Clay can join your little scary party. “Do I really need more critisism? What do we think chat? Spam 1 if you want Dream here, 2 if you don’t.” The chats start pouring in. “No, you’re supposed to spam 2 guys! Why aren’t you on my side. Argh, fine.” You shut your camera off and wait for Clay to come in. “No face reveal today guys.” George comments on your chat going crazy.

“You can sit on my lap Dream.” Nick said jokingly, tapping his lap. “I’d rather sit on George’s.” “No way.” The boys bicker back and forth. 

“Dream, get out of the frame I’m turning my camera back on.” The tall guy settles on your bed, being able to see your monitor and the two guys next to you.

“Why do you keep dying, N/N?” He teases as you respawn in game.

“Think you can do better?” You ask, taking a right this time.

“I know I can.” You hear him mutter from the bed behind you.

You press pause, taking your hand of the controller. “Alright guys, you're all talk, why don’t you give it a try huh.”

“Cause we like watching you suffer.” Clay answers. You look over to your roommates, each and every one of them grinning at you.

With a loud sigh you continue playing the game, causing a lot of giggles and teasing as you almost have a heart attack. Nick and Clay keep their commentary coming as George mainly focusses on your chat. You get to the savepoint and finally end the stream.

Turning around in your chair so you face Clay. “I really hate you guys, that was the scariest shit I’ve ever played.”

George rests his arm on your shoulder. “No you don’t.”

“You love us.” Nick adds.

[fbfh]

fangirl’s paradise - leo x reader

genre/vibe: romance, adventure, slice of life

word count: 2.8k

pronouns/perspective: first person present, no pronouns (I think), gn reader

au: soulmate kind of?? also traveling to other dimensions/multiverse

pairing: Leo x fic writer!reader

requested: nah

warnings: you think someone broke into your house for a minute, you feel like you’re going crazy for a minute, questionable pop culture/internet references, you get really embarrased about stuff you’ve written, you say fuck a lot, tiddy as an explative

summary: all you wanted to do was write some leo one shots for your blog, but finding out he’s your soulmate is good too

reccomended songs: havana - camila cabello, where do we go from here - amelie obc

a/n: got really meta and self indulgent with this bad boy, probs gonna do a part 2 at some point, cause this got really long and I started to get tired lol. For clarity, you’re from the riordanverse, but ended up in a world where it’s fictional. also some memories were erased. 

requests r open xo

All I wanted to do was dance embarrassingly and sing along to the same playlist I’d been listening to for the past three days in terrible accents while I wait for my ramen to finish cooking. That’s it. I really don’t think that’s too much to ask for. Plus, I’ve been home alone all day, so it’s really not too much to ask for. I flip over the waistband of my sweatpants while shimmying my way to the kitchen. 

“Half of my heart is in havana oh nana,” I sing along off key, in a pseudo growly voice that makes me giggle. I’m going to turn the corner, make myself some ramen, then finish the episode of love island I’ve been watching. Except that’s not what happens.

“He got tha-” I cut myself off with a scream, seeing a stranger in the hall way. He looks up. I scream more, way more, and choke out, “JFK’s left fucking tiddy!”, because this dude is either the best freaking cosplayer ever, or those tiktok reality shifting tutorials actually worked at some point. 

He looks too natural, too organic. The level of detail and strategic imperfection is beyond conscious choice. There’s no way he’s a cosplayer that broke into my house. Also, that would be a super weird crime. 

Either way, I’m standing in front of a dude who looks exactly like Leo Valdez. 

It feels… fake.

I didn’t really notice I’m covering my mouth with my hand to stop my hysterical scream laughs, but I’m able to get it under control after a second. 

He’s looking at me, eyes wide, examining me, probably wondering why I’m acting so erratically. Or why I just spat out such strange bullshit. In my defense, I’ve been watching chaotic tiktok compilations inbetween updating my blog for like, two days straight. Three other people round the corner. I don’t know what I expected, and it shouldn’t have been a surprise at this point, but I’m sure I’m looking no other than at Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase, and Piper Mclean. 

“Jesus fucking christ, fuck me with a chainsaw!” I spit, retreating into the kitchen, reminding myself that while they are my favorite characters - and again, somehow real and in front of me? - they’re still technically intruders. I grab the nearest kitchen implement, a pair of red kitchen scissors I’d used to hack open the ramen packet, and point it at them. 

“Woah,” Piper says, “it’s okay, we’re not going to hurt you.” I count to four and breathe in, setting the scissors back down within arms reach. Hold for seven, exhale for eight. I repeated the process again, watching Annabeth whispering to Leo.

I can feel the initial freak out subsiding. I’m starting to calm down a little.

“We’re not going to hurt you,” Piper repeats. Well duh, they’re the good guys. A spike of pure what the fuck shoots through me, as I realize I’m already adapting to the fact that fictional fucking characters are standing in my kitchen. Leo’s ignoring Annabeth, and still staring at me, searching my eyes for... something.

Piper’s brow furrows. I call past Piper to Annabeth.

“Yeah, hi op, what the fuck?” They all have a silent conversation for a minute, and I continue, “Anyone want to tell my why the fuck fic-”

“We can tell you what’s going on, but it’s going to sound crazy.” Piper starts.

“After the past five minutes, probably not.” I glance past her shoulder, Leo’s still examining me. I look away, overwhelmed almost immediately. About 30% of my brain is just an endless loop of ‘ohmygodohmygodohmygod he’s real??? Like,,,, r e a l real????? Aj;dlfkajskdla ohmygod he’s looking at me what the fuck richard’, 20% was still trying to calm down from freaking out so much earlier, so I was at about half brain power for the conversation ahead. 

“Okay, wait. Let me get this straight.” they stare at me in silence. We’re standing in the hallway outside the kitchen, and I feel like a complete disaster trying to process what they’re telling me and not look like a total idiot.

“So, Calypso went missing, and Leo got Aphrodite to activate his soulmate link so he can find her and it led you here?” I’m already smiling. There’s no chance, I can’t get my hopes up. 

Piper continues, “Which means it might not be Calypso.”

“Unless you’re wearing a really good disguise or something,” Leo says. I’m pretty sure that’s the first time he’s spoken to me. I let out a breathy laugh and look away from him. If I try to look at him my brain goes haywire. Scenes from stuff I’ve written about him on my tumblr flash in my mind, and it makes me feel like I’m about to explode. 

“Yeah, the reason we know is-”

“The gods are real, monsters are after you, et cetera et cetera. Yeah.” They seem a little surprised that I’m more concerned with the soulmate part than the mythology part, but I’ve been reading these books since middle school. We been knew.

Piper keeps looking between Leo and me with a weird look on her face. God, Piper, don’t get my hopes up. A knowing look passes over her face and she looks around the room again.

“Gods, where did he go…” She gets up and leaves the room. No one says anything. Between right then and when she gets back should have been in a ‘top ten most devastating anime uncomfortable silences’ compilation. She enters again a few seconds later, a tall hot guy behind her. He has red flowers in his hair and isn’t wearing a shirt for some reason. He looks between me and Leo.

“I see… interesting.” he turns to me and says, “Can you tell me anything… personal about him?” My face flushes. I turn to Piper.

“Sorry, but who the fuck?”

“I mean the only noncanon stuff I know is what I came up with for like, writing and stuff but that doesn’t count-” I sputter.

“Eros.” she replies, “My mom sent him along to help find the right person.”

“Normally I’d be able to tell instantly, but my powers don’t seem to work here very well.” his voice is like honey, and it seems like he’s heavily implying something no matter what he says. 

“Yeah, go on hermosa,” Leo says, smirking, “take a whack at it.” His voice sounds so much more… real than I could have imagined. If I could verbally keysmash, I would have then and there. 

“Hmm… why don’t you try anyway. What kind of lover is he?” the room erupts into protests. They don’t want to hear personal stuff about their friend, I don’t want to talk about cripplingly embarrassing smut headcanons in front of the character they’re about, and he probably doesn’t want me taking a wild guess at his bedroom habits. Eros turns to Percy, Annabeth, and Piper.

“You two, out. You, leave but stay close.” They leave the room hastily.

“Since I’m the god of sexual desire, I know what gets people going. I’ll be able to tell if you’re right or not. ” Eros says. I risk a glance at Leo, who I have a feeling has been staring at me a lot. He leans forward, playful intrigue all over him. How is he not dying inside?? 

“Ah ah,” Eros says to Leo, “you too.” Leo obliges, and heads up the stairs.

“H- okay, uh… he acts like a top, but he’s really kind of a bottom,” I choke out, trying to remember details from past posts, and Eros nods in approval, encouraging me to keep going, “he’s really-” my voice falters, and I hide my head in my hands, “he’s really vocal, like really vocal… uh…” 

“Oh yes, I can tell.” Eros says, and I laugh slightly. “What else?” 

“More? God okay… uh… he really likes hickeys, and-” I choke on my words, still unsure of how I got in this situation. 

“He holds hands a lot in… the bedroom? God…” I trail off.

“The next morning, he kind of… he just sort of stares at you while you get dressed and stuff. I don’t know anyone else who does that.”

Eros studies me for a second. My heart is beating so hard. How long does it take to say yes or no? I’m uncomfortably aware of the distracting adrenaline in my arms and chest and head. 

“Interesting,” he says, then stands up and leaves the room.

What the fuck, is he not going to tell me anything?

I’m listening as closely as I can, and I’m pretty sure I hear Eros say five out of five. I got everything right or everything wrong. Nailed it or failed it. 

Piper speeds past me a second later and races up the stairs. After a few seconds she comes back down. She nods toward the staircase.

“You should go talk to him.” a knowing smile is playing at the corner of her mouth, and I can’t stop one from starting on mine. I run up the stairs, and see him, kneeling on my bed, reading what’s on my laptop. 

Oh god, no. 

He stands up. He’s staring at me so intensely, I look away immediately. I start sputtering out a panicked apology and sit down on my bed, moving to shut the lid of my laptop.

“Uh… I just listen to a song or something that makes me think of you,” my voice gets really tiny at that last part, “and stuff starts to pop into my head. I just keep replaying it, and uncovering more details so I can wr- wait,” I start to look up at him, but can’t bring myself to meet his eyes. I stare intensely at the pattern on my quilt instead. “Did you say remember?” He lets out a breathy laugh, and I can hear the smile in his voice. 

“-of course I never thought you were going to read any of that, or…” His hand is on top of mine, my hand and voice freezing at the same time.

“How… did you remember all this?” my fears are being squashed. He doesn’t sound mad, or grossed out, or judgemental. He sounds… impressed.

“Yeah, I mean, I’m only starting to get back bits and pieces, but you remember… everything.” 

“Wait wait…” I mutter, completely dazed, “so it wasn’t… it was all real?” I feel him nodding behind me, and he makes a noise of agreement. 

“It was genius, really… as soon as I felt like I was remembering something, I’d forget it.” His other hand rests on my shoulder, palm flat against my back. “Only you would think to write it like that…” 

“So… it all happened?” I breathe, my face heating up as I think of the titles marked with a little asterisk. 

“Yeah,” I bite my lip, feeling his breath over my skin. It’s quiet for a second. The mattress shifts and I can feel him leaning closer to me, feel the heat coming off his body. His lips are dangerously close to my ear.

“Want something else to write about?”

Oh my fucking god.

I nod before I finish registering what he said. His free hand moves to my cheek, tilting my face towards him, and my skin explodes with sparks where he touches me. 

Our lips brush.

We both freeze.

Flood gates open. Countless vivid images and feelings and scenarios flash across my mind. It was like watching a movie connecting every fic I’ve written. I gasp-laugh a little, and he does the same. It seems like the visions or whatever that he’s seeing are a lot more intense than mine. His eyes flutter open and he looks at me stronger, more intensely, more passionately than he had before. He lets out a soft, breathy laugh, and presses his lips to mine. Everywhere he touches feels carbonated, and I’m trying not to smile too much. I don’t think I’ve ever been more in the moment than right this second. He pulls me closer, tilting his head and deepening the kiss. I didn’t know a kiss could be deeper than it had been a few seconds ago. His mouth moves feverishly against mine. My arms move up on instinct, one hand playing with his hair, the other tracing the collar of his shirt. He shifts his weight, and one hand on my waist, lowers me back onto my bed. His left hand intertwines with my right, and I smile, remembering what I had told Eros earlier. 

“Estrella,” He groans into my mouth, our teeth scraping as we smile in spite of ourselves, and I get the sense the nickname was an ‘as you wish’ type of thing, from the Princess Bride. It feels like he’s saying I love you. My heart speeds up as he nuzzles into my neck, pressing kisses and little bites into my skin. I think about the nickname I always thought would suit him, the one I kept writing down over and over. Now or never.

“Sparky…” I smile, hiding my face in his hair. He freezes for a second, then lets out that breathy laugh again, his face in my neck. His lips graze my collarbone, and he starts to say something, but the door opens suddenly, and we jump apart. It doesn’t help much though, because he’s still hovering over me on all fours and we both look very flushed. And I’m pretty sure the start of a hickey is forming on my neck. 

“Right,” she replies, “we gotta get going, the door is closing soon, so come down stairs as soon as you’re… free.” 

“Sorry!” Annabeth yells, averting her eyes. Leo and I stumble over each other’s flustered responses.

“-looks bad but nothing… happened… we d- we didn’t like, do anything...” I trail off. 

The door closes.

“I’m coming with you guys?” I breathe. He looks over at me, that unflappable sense of playfulness present as ever. 

Leo sits back, scratching the back of his neck.

“Yeah, we should get back soon. Everyone else will be worried once they remember.” My heart plummets. I didn’t know you could go from feeling so incredibly euphoric to beyond miserable in about five seconds. I open my mouth to choke out a response, but before I can, he stands up and stretches a little.

“Do you wanna change before we go?” The question has such a normal tone to it, it’s a little bizarre after all the unusual things that have happened today. The bad feeling and tears at the corners of my eyes start to recede. 

“Of course you are. If you think I’m losing you again this soon you’re crazier than I am.” I let out a relieved laugh, and stand up. I look down at my monster foot slippers and sweatpants. 

“You know where to find me,” he winks before closing the door on his way out.

“Yeah, I should probably change.” He pulls me close to him, one hand comes up to the back of my neck, the other on my hip. He starts swaying us back and forth, dancing around my room.

“Well, if you need any help…” I laugh, and shove him away playfully.

I take a second to catch my breath. Oh my god. Thoughts are still racing in the back of my mind, but I don’t pay attention. I don’t have time to worry about what’s real and what’s not, I need to find the perfect demigod adventure outfit. I throw open my closet, start shuffling through dresser drawers, digging through my shoes. I don’t remember having one or two of the pieces, but after a minute, I find exactly what I’m looking for. It’s the exact outfit I’d always imagined myself in if I ever went to camp half blood. I search through my accessories, grab a bag, and hastily fill it with anything I think I’ll probably need. I turn back to my laptop, and change my blog description to on hiatus. I check my hair, flattening out the back from before, and determine I’m ready to go. 

I walk down the stairs, and everyone’s watching me. I feel like it’s prom or something, which sounds silly since I’ve got on ripped jeans and a backpack instead of a dress and clutch. Leo’s watching me with that look, the one that makes his eyes all sparkly, and he meets me at the bottom of the stairs. He puts his arm around my shoulder.

“Ready to go home, Estrella?”

I have never been more ready for anything.

[facelessoldgargoyle]

Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974) is a dreamy, artsy foundation of the entire horror genre. Most of what I want to talk about with this movie are the aesthetics. The first several movies are period pieces, and the early 70’s are gorgeous on the silver screen. The actors have the sort of ordinary, beatific faces that simply aren’t committed to film any more, and the movie itself has a washed out, dreamlike quality.

The outfits are fucking choice—everyone has tits. The girls have tiddies, the dudes have tiddies, we’re having a great time. The actors also have delicious accents! The quality of the texan accent varies wildly in the following films, but they’re 💯💯💯

I didn’t know much about this movie going into it, just that my parents saw it when it came out and were totally freaked. Based on the name, I assumed it would be a pretty gory slasher without a lot of depth.

Here’s a summary you can skip if you’ve watched it: The movie starts out with a monologue about what is about to happen as if it’s a news report. Honestly, I found this charming. We don’t really use framing devices like this anymore. It felt like a content warning. Then we have our group of 5 young adults on a road trip in a van. One of them is in a wheelchair, which doesn’t seem to have much of an impact on the plot, but which was kinda cool to see on screen. The five of them pick up a hitchhiker, who is clearly deranged. That’s how you know this was made in the 70’s. The hitchhiker cuts himself, in almost a masochistic way. They ditch him and keep going to their farmhouse. They wander into the neighbors’ house and get killed by Leatherface, but one girl escapes to a nearby gas station. The proprietor kidnaps her back to the house, where she has dinner with him, the hitchhiker, Leatherface who is wearing a dress, and an old corpse they call Grandpa. I genuinely couldn’t tell whether grandpa was a mannequin or an actor in heavy makeup. They cut the girl’s finger and let grandpa suck her blood out. She escapes, and Leatherface chases her through the woods, until she escapes in the bed of a passing pickup. That’s this iconic shot:

This movie contains the building blocks of every horror movie made after it! A final girl, who although initially squeamish, finds reserves of strength. A harbinger warning you to move along while you still can. A chance at escape, foiled by a betrayal. One charismatic killer, who has something iconically fucked up about him. Screaming, lots of screaming. A cathartic, if not necessarily happy, ending.

This movie is a must-watch if you’re into horror as a genre. It’s surprisingly bloodless and gore-free. Most of the horror comes from an ick factor (the house is dirty, the people are gross) and the idea of terrible situations and terrible people. Also, I cannot emphasize enough how much screaming there is. There’s so much screaming.

It’s a beautiful movie and a fun time. 8/10 a classic

[writemekpop]

Busted! (Part 2) | Qian Kun

Pairing: Qian Kun x Reader

Summary: Your mother catches your half-naked boyfriend Kun hiding in your bed. You knew she’d be mad, but you weren’t expecting this... Will Kun be able to charm his way out of trouble? 

Word count: 0.8k

Read Part 1 Here.

Kun tries not to laugh as your mum stares down at him, the boy she’s just found hiding in her daughter’s bed. But there is no laughter inside you. Your saucer-eyes flick from your blanched mum to tomato-faced Kun.

Kun, with his limbs still splayed out on your mattress, says, “Good evening ma’am. I’m Kun, a… friend of your daughter’s. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He has taken on a mortifying faux-posh accent. If you didn’t feel like throwing up, this ridiculous scene might be funny.

“The pleasure is all mine.” Your mum, her ghostly face plastered with a smile, shakes Kun’s hand and helps him up like nothing’s happened.

You feel like you’re in some awful nightmare. “Um…maybe come through hallway next time, rather than, you know, hiding in my daughter’s bed.” Your mum looks like she’s discussing the weather, not your half-naked boyfriend.

“Right, well, I’ll get you kids something to drink. Juice?” You throw your mum the dirtiest glance you can, but she keeps on smiling. Kun has the audacity to mumble, “Actually, could I get a beer?”

You nearly faint. Your mum doesn’t even let you sip her champagne on New Year’s Day! “Right, okay. I’ll be right back.” Your mouth falls open as you stare at your mum who simply pads out of your room.

You turn to Kun, who immediately bursts out laughing. You can’t help but join in from shock more than anything. He clasps your hand, and your eyes catch his exposed golden chest. You suddenly remember that you’re all alone in your bedroom with your gorgeous boyfriend Kun.

Kun places his hand on your cheek, his face nearing yours, but you rush away, giggling under your breath. “We can’t, Kun. My mum’s coming back!”

Kun leans towards you again, a grin spreading over his handsome face. He presses a hot kiss to your cheek. “We’ve got ages - she’s busy getting drinks,” he whispers.

Kun’s hands side around your waist, and his mouth meets yours. Your heart is beating so hard it’s thudding in your ears. Grasping Kun’s neck, you kiss him back harder.

You melt into the kiss and his hot hands on your skin, your feet stumbling backwards till your back presses against your bedroom door.

The sound of your and Kun’s panting breaths is deafening. Deepening the kiss, he pulls your leg around his waist, and electricity crackles down your spine.

Suddenly, Kun jumps backwards, cursing wildly.

You feel rather than hear a sudden rumbling, so loud it makes your skull vibrate. Then, just inches from your ear, appears a deadly stick of revolving metal cutting through your bedroom door.

You scream and jump towards Kun. You look back at the door in terror and see a massive saw is slicing your door in half, spraying sawdust over everything.

Your blood boils as you realise what’s going on. Flinching, you yank your door open. And then you see the culprit – your mother in a clown get up of neon orange builder’s helmet, earmuffs, and goggles, wielding a chainsaw in her arms.

“What the hell, mum?” Your voice is a squeak.  

“Don’t interrupt me while I’m cutting petal, you’ll hurt yourself.” Your mum pulls her goggles off with a huff, the now stilled chainsaw dangling from one arm.

You ball your hands into fists, coughing out sawdust. “Why. Are. You. Destroying. My. DOOR.” You’re screaming even though she’s an arm’s length away.

Your mum raises one eyebrow, heaving a deep sigh. “Sweetie, I’ve decided that you don’t deserve your privacy anymore. Not when you have him hanging around.” She lifts up the mammoth chainsaw again, but you bat her arm down, skin prickling hotly.

“Ugh!” Unable to even form words, you yank Kun’s arm and stomp down the stairs.

“Where are you going? I never said you had to stop doing… whatever it is that you two were doing!” You can hear your mum grinning and it makes you want to break something. Instead, you just shake your head, and pull Kun out of the front door, slamming it behind you.

“I’m so sorry, Kun. You should probably just go now; I’ll call you tomorrow.” You chew at your lip, anger momentarily lulled by the chill night air. Kun pulls you in for a hug, the warmth from his body making you shiver. He presses his lips to your neck softly before letting you go.

“No worries, babe. Your mum seems cool though!” Kun’s toothy grin glints in the moonlight.

You stick your tongue out at your boyfriend.

“Oh, and, Y/n?” Kun calls as he walks backwards down your drive, his half open shirt flapping. “You know you locked yourself out, right?” You turn and stare dumbly at the closed door.

“Damn it, Kun!” you yell. Kun just laughs, blows you a kiss and is gone.

[jojo-reader-hell]

We’re not getting off this Poly Train until y’all realize we can have Erina x Reader x Jonathan: Modern AU

The muffled whisper of the pilot wakes you from a deep sleep where you’re ninety nine percent sure you had your mouth open. Fifteen minutes to landing, weather is rainy, he spouts off the temperature but you don’t really pay attention because there’s a very intense pair of blue eyes trained on you, chubby hands patting your chest in a demand.

“I’m sorry honey... you been awake long?”

Tiny fingers pluck at your top, far too chubby and uncoordinated to work the small buttons but his intellect is startling. Your baby is too smart for his own good, at two months he responds to certain words in unique ways, he knows that you unbutton your shirt to give him milk, and he responds to your smile with an even bigger toothless grin. Call you a brainless mother, but you can’t help but be one of those mothers that just thinks everything her child does is genius.

“We’re almost there.” You coo down at the little head of blue black hair as he eats. You heard that nursing helps calm babies down when the plane lands or takes off, and so far your son has been a good little traveler.

One tiny hand presses against your heart as you talk earnestly to the baby, telling him about the new country he’s going to make his home for the rest of his life and the new house he’s going to live in.

“Daddy is there,” you tell him, “And so is Mama and big brother. They’ve made a nice little room just for you in their big house, and your new doggie and kitty are waiting very patiently to cuddle you and give you so many kissies.”

Giorno watches you, his face impassive, lips turned outward like a fish as you tell him so many wonderful things. You wonder sometimes if he understands you when you talk to him, or does it all sound the same whether in English or Italian? You’re not really sure, but you speak both to him just as often and each time you speak his eyes focus directly on you no matter what.

“We’ll have all our things, your new crib, and even some toys your big brother got for you two to play with.” You whisper. “We’ll even have a bigger bathtub! So once we get home I’ll give us both a nice, warm bath. Won’t you like that mimmo?”

For some reason Giorno seems to have a little relief on his face, finally relaxing into the feed as his eyes droop. That was a big mood. You both are exhausted. It’s been a little rough living in a bare room this last week, but you made it work with the bare essentials and found it so easy to live with things you only had to pack up in two suitcases and a diaper bag. Your son was such a trooper. He did very well when your girlfriend came and helped you pack up everything so you both could ship it to London in boxes or sell the furniture you didn’t need anymore, but he did fuss sometimes about his toys, or the kitty your lover took with her.

In the long run, living with next to no possessions was a blessing. Erina was smart to take the cat and pack up the house immediately, months in advance she requested all the proper forms to have it transported, and after the last visit she said kitty was adjusting very well to her new house (George, she discovered, was a five year old cat whisperer who constantly made sure your pet was well fed and well loved). The last time you all had a group chat, kitty had even gone up to the screen at the sound of your voice, and meowed sweetly as though you were standing right in front of her.

You were excited and relieved. It felt as though you were going to the UK for the first time instead of possibly the hundredth. Who counted anymore? All you knew is this would be the last time you’d ever feel that familiar overwhelming loneliness being so far away from your loving family.

“Few more minutes Gigi...” you coo to your son. “You take your time and have as much as you want.”

You’re worried he’ll be overwhelmed with all the bustle around the airport this time of night. Customs takes forever, even if you’re arriving a few hours after your baby’s bedtime. There’s always a crowd, normally they never made you nervous before but with a new baby there’s nothing but anxiety and paranoia at the most minuscule of dangers. People stare at him like they want to interact with him and you’ll shift him out of view into your coat. Some other brat kept screaming in its seat and jarred your baby out of a deep sleep when it started coughing, and you’d had to do a lot of breathing techniques to prevent yourself from having an anxiety attack. Being stationary at the airport wasn’t much comfort either... Old women will pick their teeth, stick their hand in their pants, scratch nasty places, or poke their nose, then approach you with outstretched fingers wanting to touch your son’s clean cheek and it’s enough to make you gather your shit and run the opposite direction.

The world is a frightening, disgusting place now that you have a newborn, and you won’t feel safe until you’re surrounded by your impenetrable fortress that is currently parking the car at London Luton.

It takes forever for the plane to land and situate, but finally you’re able to stand and hoist your diaper bag over your shoulder after helping Giorno relax as the plane makes a jarring landing. He’s still latched onto your breast, and you notice with some relief that no one really stares at you when you adjust Giorno’s sling. Everyone is exhausted. Waiting to go home just like you are, and it’s already raining once you exit the craft and onto the tarmac.

Your phone is buzzing, the plan your boyfriend bought you has already activated and it will stay that way for a few days until you’re able to get a new phone here in London. It would be nice to answer the phone and hear a familiar voice, but your hands are full trying to burp the baby and it doesn’t make it any easier that you’re doing it on a shuttle. You grab for the nearest handrail, scrunch tightly in a corner and brace yourself as the bus totters along the tarmac while Giorno makes his tiny burps, his little face smoothing out from the scrunched up anger he had being around so many strangers.

Finally when you disembark the shuttle and hurry into the building out of the rain (it was a mission and a half trying to keep Giorno dry) you’re able to return the frantic calls you’ve been receiving.

“Hello?” Your voice is getting low from exhaustion. The prospect of customs is dauntingly close.

“Mum! Where are you? Are you bringing me my brother?!”

That tiny voice with the most decidedly cutest accent you’ve ever heard makes your heart flutter in your chest and your smile wake up.

“Hiya Georgie!” You coo back into the phone as Giorno watches you with big eyes. “Your brother is here with me. I just have to get us through customs and then we’ll be with you before you know it.”

“Would you please hurry mum? I miss you!” his voice is that typical demanding monotone, but you know he’s probably just tired and cranky from being up past his bedtime.

“I promise I’ll hurry as best I can my love. You don’t worry your pretty little head. I miss you too, but I’m here now topolino. Can I talk to mommy please?”

In the background you hear his father reprimand him gently, but you also hear his very serious “mummy, phone!” and the softest chuckle that makes your heart do backflips.

“I’m sorry darling. He’s been antsy all day and had to get the corner because he got grumpy with daddy.”

That soothing voice makes your heart leap, that familiar pull also turns your face a bright red as you follow the other passengers into a line up in customs.

“Well...” your voice is low, sultry. “I’m a bit antsy too, are you going to have to punish me as well, sweet Eri?”

The way Erina scolds you with a sharp squeak of your name makes you grin even larger. You lean down to kiss your baby’s head as he continues to stare up at you, transfixed on your voice and possibly wondering in his baby way who you’re talking to. Even Erina begins to scold, and you can tell she is over the long wait and ready for you to come home too. All you can do is smile at your baby like a fool as Erina pesters you about propriety. She may look on the outside the very picture of a timid little blonde, but you know better. She’s a spitfire who can take command of a rioting crowd with voice alone, and you can’t wait for her to cover you head to toe in her affection.

“-not be saying that in front of all those people! I swear, you’re both just the same! The nerve, the audacity-...”

“I’m almost there my love. I’m sorry. I just can’t wait any longer to be with my family. Can I talk to Jojo please?”

Erina stops her ranting when you ask so politely. You’ve still got a bit longer to wait to scan both passports, and you’re already fishing them out of the sling pocket where they’ve been resting with Giorno this entire time. She relents with a final “be safe” and an exchange of love before she relinquishes the phone.

“Darling!” A deep voice, so warm and sincere with boyish charm, almost sounds like a squeak at the prospect of hearing your voice.

“I’m home Jojo.” You say. “I just wanted to hear your voice before I go through.”

There’s a few more families ahead of you, and even though you feel a bit bad cutting his time talking to you short, you know you’ll make it up to him later on.

“Quickly, I just wanted to tell you we all love you both! And we’re all here waiting, do you have any bags?” He is breathless, excited, forgetting the plan and just as raring to see his new son as everyone else.

“Yes Jojo, we’ll have to get them once I’m free. It’s my turn now.”

“I love you!”

You have to respond, tell him you love him too before placing the phone in your sling pocket (did you even hang up? Oh well…), and you head up holding both passports at an awkward angle. Luckily you’re not doing this one handed. Jonathan had been the one to suggest the feeding sling for your baby, and it’s so easy to do things when Giorno is just nestled in his little pouch. You could probably juggle chainsaws with him, but right now it’s just needed to get you through this damn line.

As soon as you’re through, and there’s only one direction left to go passed the money exchange, you feel your heart begin to pound rapidly in your chest. Giorno pulls on your shirt, almost like he can read your mind, and you have to kiss his tiny hands with shaky lips. You have to be careful. Prevent yourself from losing your cool and tripping over your own two feet because you were too excited. So many extra things to worry about now that you’re a mother, but that’s ok. As long as you keep grounding yourself with the baby and slowing the hell down.

You hear them calling your name before you see them. Immediately your head snaps towards the sound, and you have to keep it together before you break out into a run. The first one you focus on is George, over excitable as always whenever he sees you. Then you see Erina, her cheeks are pink and eyes shining with those happy tears when she sees you with one hand on Giorno’s sling. And finally, you see Jonathan, trembling and holding tightly to the handle on Danny’s harness while even the gigantic Great Dane senses the excitement. It feels like walking underwater towards them, but George is the first to break free from his mother’s grip and lunges at you. You brace for impact and let him do what he wishes, grabbing your leg tightly and practically screaming for you at the top of his lungs.

“Mummy! Mummy!”

“Shhhh…” you try to calm him from screaming and scaring the baby.

Giorno doesn’t seem to be too frightened however, he turns in the sling to stare at the little boy with wide eyes, unaware that the screaming six year old is his big brother. George only stops when you shower him with kisses, his chubby cheeks peppered as you take his hand and lead him with you to your lovers. It’s all over after that. You’re pulled every which way to be kissed and loved it makes you dizzy, and Jonathan nearly loses balance when Danny tries to prevent him from having an attack because of all the excitement.

“Oh, oh!” Jonathan coos when he sees his newborn son looking soulfully up at him from the sling. “Hello my love. Don’t cry, did I scare you?”

“I think he’s overwhelmed with all this love.” Erina laughs, picking up her son as easily as one would a feather pillow so that George could look at his new baby brother.

“My brother!” It’s all George can seem to say.

You beam at the attention, cradling the baby and pulling back the sling so your lovers can gush about their new son. To Erina, who hadn’t been able to attend your birth, this is the first time Giorno has been seen outside of an ultrasound or touched outside of her beautifully slender hands caressing the taut skin of your tummy. Jonathan attended the birth and stayed a few weeks after, and there’s a wordless struggle for possession of the baby between him and Erina as they lean towards your chest to place kisses on his plump cheeks.

Even more sweet is the tiny hand that reaches out from the sling, groping for something, the three of you are unsure what he wants, until you see Giorno’s tiny hand lightly caress George’s cheek.

“Let’s go, we need to get your bags, and then make our way home.” Erina smiles, kissing your lips ever so gently.

“Home…” Jonathan coos fondly.

The way they say it, it makes you ache. You won’t stop aching until you get home, but the pain begins to dull when Erina takes one hand, and Jonathan the other, leading you to the luggage carousel where you will collect the last few things you own. Your old life is behind you now, the prospect of a new life, a happier one now that you’re home, looms in the distance. At this time of night the airport is slowly being deserted, but there’s still a crowd that looks on, almost perplexed at the family consisting of three adults, a service dog, and two little boys who look at each other as if they have found a treasure.

[builder051]

Hello! Good to see you back :) Would you be interested in writing a drabble with Peter being sick with a fever on a mission and it causing him to mess something really simple up? Maybe Tony yells at him first, but then realizes what’s happening when Peter gets weirdly teary about it? Thanks!

I’ve already written something like that (the only difference is that it’s minus the teary, I think).  I’m pasting the fic below. :)

___________________________________________

“Follow him!” Tony shouts, pointing at the ski-masked, ATM-robbing bandit tearing his way down the sidewalk.

Peter takes a breath and fights through the fog in his head to pay attention and process Mr. Stark’s directions.

Follow him.  Alright.  He can do that.  Or, he probably could if he had any idea which direction the dude had run in.  Peter looks up at Mr. Stark, his blank expression thankfully obscured by his own mask.

“Yeah, nice hustle there,” Tony says, a note of irritation tainting his voice.  He looks away from the alien chainsaw-wielding criminal he’s fighting to point Peter down the sidewalk.  “If you lose him, that one’s on you.”

“Ok, ok,” Peter says, snuffing a drip of snot back down his throat.  He tracks the black knit ski mask with his eyes for a moment, then starts up at a jog.

“Swinging would be a lot faster if you want to cut him off,” Mr. Stark shouts after him.

Oh.  Yeah.  Duh.  Peter deliberates shooting a rope of web up to the nearest street lamp, but considering how dizzy he’s feeling with both feet on the ground, he’s not eager to web himself anywhere.  Instead, he keeps running and aims his web shooter at the back of the bandit’s head.

It turns out to be an even stupider move.  The tacky surface of the web sticks to the ski mask and boomerangs the soft wool hat back into Peter’s hand.  “Fuck,” he mutters, shaking his wrist so the piece of clothing will drop from where it’s adhered itself to his suit.

Wait, no, he’s losing time.  The bandit is getting away.  What is he doing?  Peter feels stupid as he looks up, scanning the crowded street for the criminal.  Then Peter realizes he doesn’t have the slightest idea what he looks like without the mask.  Or even if it is, in fact, a man.

Looking back over his shoulder, he sees Mr. Stark using his Ironman suit’s pulsar blasts to destroy the other robber’s weapon.  He doesn’t want to run back to the ATM and admit his failure.  Plus, jogging is making his already achy head pound all the harder.  But Peter doesn’t see a lot of better options.

By the time he’s crept up behind Mr. Stark, a police officer has arrived and is placing the angry criminal in cuffs, then pushing him into a waiting police car.  Peter watches the scene dazedly, unaware of how much he’s in the way, standing there like a Spiderman street performer.

“Ok, come here,” Mr. Stark says, putting his hand in the middle of Peter’s back and pushing him down an alley so he’s no longer blocking the sidewalk.  The metal of the Ironman suit’s glove is painfully hard and cold against Peter’s skin, even though his body is covered in his suit’s micro armor and spandex.

Mr. Stark shoves Peter up against the brick wall of a building, then retracts his face plate so Peter can see his sweaty and rather livid face. “What’s going on with you today?  You’re slow, you lost a suspect.  This isn’t like you.”

“Hey, I—I’m really sorry, Mr. Stark,” Peter says, fumbling his mask off with shaky, hands.  The chilly November air hits his face and lights up patches of clammy sweat, making him feel like ice cubes are pressing to his face.  “I don’t know what…I just feel, like, kinda off, I guess…”

“If you want to do this, you can’t have off days,” Mr. Stark says, pushing a metal finger into Peter’s chest.

New shivers run up and down Peter’s spine, sending tremors right up into his shoulders.

“Come on, it’s not that cold.”  Mr. Stark rolls his eyes.  “Or are you gonna start crying?  Either way, I don’t have a lot of sympathy for you.”

“I’m ok,” Peter says quickly.  “I’m sorry.  I just, like, I don’t mean it as an excuse or anything.”  The longer he stands there, the more his nose drips backwards down his prickling throat, the more his lower back aches, the more his upper lip bristles with fresh perspiration… “I kinda don’t feel good.”

“You don’t feel good?” Mr. Stark repeats, giving Peter a thorough looking over.

“I’m sorry.”

“Shut up, ok?”  Tony raises his still-gloved hand to Peter’s forehead.  “FRIDAY, can you run diagnostic?”

There’s a slight whirring sound.  Then the accented voice reports, “Mr. Parker has a body temperature of 101.6 degrees Fahrenheit.  He appears to have symptoms consistent with the common cold.”

“Kind of a high fever for a cold, though,” Mr. Stark comments.

Peter shrugs.  Snuffs up a drip that threatens to fall from the end of his nose.

“Hey, don’t do that.  That’s gross.  That’s gonna make you puke,” Mr. Stark chastises him.  “Here’s what we’re gonna do.  Happy’s gonna pick you up.  Bring you a change of clothes.  Take you home.”

“But, the mission?” Peter asks.  He feels like there are cotton balls in his ears, fuzzing up his hearing and making his mental processing speed slower than the postal service.

“It’s done, kid.  There’s not a lot we can do without a visual on the one that got away…”

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark,” Peter says for a third time.  “I didn’t mean to…”

“Stop apologizing,” Tony commands.  “You’re sick.  You’re not firing on all cylinders.  It’s…it’s ok.”

“But I fucked up!”

“Yeah, but I’m not gonna bite your head off for it.  Not right now when I know you feel like shit.  That would… that wouldn’t do any good,” Tony says.  “And please don’t pick up my profanity habit.”

Peter smiles in spite of himself.

“Ok, I’m gonna call May, tell her you’re sick and Happy’s dropping you off at home,” Mr. Stark informs him.  “So shut up, unless you need to cough or sneeze or something.  That could be good sound effects.”

[mashitandsmashit]

America’s Got Talent: Season 15 - Online Auditions

Alright, let's talk about the online auditions...And I don't just mean the ones they actually showed in full on the show last week, I mean all of the ones that were available to watch before the season even began! You can find all the videos here (you can't miss them): https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCsNUxRA5hGXEAZI3Mk_D3JQ/videos

So let's get right to it, shall we...?

10: Erin McCarthy. I'm sure Terry got flashbacks to his Old Spice days (I know it was the other guy, but still...) I guess the horse was a pretty amusing touch, but this lady's so pitchy that I was getting a migraine! All that said, this was a HELL of a way to close out the auditions...

9: Chris & Syd. Well, the guy's a nice singer, and the dog...is good at howling...Otherwise, this is a silly gimmick, and won't likely make it past the Judge Cuts next week...That said, if they do, they're gonna be a real threat in this game, bringing in votes from both the Heartland and dog lovers...

8: Tommy Socks. It's funny how they showed this right after the dude juggling flaming axes and a chainsaw...and yet THIS is the most dangerous-looking act I've seen in these online auditions! Usually, a man his age shuffling around on a hard-tile floor in his socks is a LifeCall waiting to happen! And yet he not only remained on his socked feet, but proved to be very spry on them for his age! This act is a silly gimmick, and he won't make it past the next round, but he still has my respect!

7: Max Major. OH MY GOD! THE FINGER TRICK WORKED ON ME TOO! HOW DID HE DO THAT!? IT COULDN'T HAVE BEEN SIMPLE PHYSICS, HE MUST BE A WIZARD! ...Or a demon, like Simon said...But seriously, this was nothing amazing...I guess the fact that he was able to do this through video chat was impressive enough, although I did just read a comment about an “invisible deck”, which does make it less impressive...Still, I'm curious enough to see what he can do on a live stage...

6: Lauren O'Brien. Impressionists are always fun, even if the novelty of them tends to wear out pretty quickly from round to round...But I enjoyed her, and her impression of Sofia is all the more amusing now that I've gotten to know her more throughout the auditions. (Silly accent aside, she is growing on me as a judge...)

5: Darius. I guess he won't give his last name...(Rucker?) Very likable personality, good song choice, and a very nice singing voice! I wouldn't quite call him my favorite singer of the season, but this was a nice audition...It's actually kind of a shame that we won't likely see him again...At least this season...But if nothing else, maybe I'll actually get a little respect for my miserable time working retail (even though I quit that job months before COVID even broke out...)

4: Alexis & The Puppy Pals. Well, she's not quite at Alexa Lauenburger's level yet, but she's on her way! None of the tricks were anything I haven't seen before, but they were very impressive considering the age of the trainer...How interesting that some of the best dog trainers to come on this show are little girls! All that said...The 80s called, they want their wardrobe back!

3: Aaron...Bonk? (Sorry, I can't see his name spelled out anywhere, only hear Terry pronounce it.) Silly little diagonal mohawk aside, I'm always a sucker for rebellious-looking people juggling chainsaws and flaming weaponry! I'd love to see him do this act on a stage, but since they didn't even show him in last week's quick compilation of online acts, we're probably not even going to see him again...Again, at least until he tries auditioning again for one of the coming years...

2: The Hurd Family. Clearly, the dad and the eldest son are the real talent, while the two younger siblings are just there to cute it up a bit...Some very strong dancing, but sadly they probably won't make it past Judge Cuts since they were given the montage treatment in the official episode...

1: Simon's pajamas. A brilliant spectacle! BRRRRAVO!

This was a fun little collection of talent, and the home-recorded nature of everything kinda added to the charm...The judges were also more entertaining while just casually kicking back at their houses...Like with “Saturday Night Live”, I hope it doesn't have to continue like this, but for now, it was different and enjoyable...(Unfortunately, the Judge Cuts will be more of the same, so I really do wonder how they're gonna handle the remainder of this season...)

Probably the only acts from this who will pass the Judge Cuts next week are Alexis and MAYBE Max (if he can pull off a good enough trick). Everyone else were either silly gimmicks who don't even have the quality of so-bad-it's-good, or weren't shown in full for the official episode last week...

But we'll just see...For now, let's move on to tonight's “Best Of” show...Here are the auditions they compiled for this episode...

1: W.A.F.F.L.E. Crew

2: Double Dragon

3: Brandon Leake

4: Brett Loudermilk

5: Cristina Rae

6: The Spyros Bros

7: Voices of Our City Choir

8: Alan Silva

9: Roberta Battaglia

10: Vincent Marcus

11: Archie Williams

The reason why I listed these acts is because all of them are most likely in the live shows already (not counting the Golden Buzzer acts that we KNOW are already there). The “Best Of” shows tend to be made up of acts that the judges and/or producers liked the most, and by the time they air, the live performers have already been selected weeks or even months ago...So you know they must have liked them enough if they're in this compilation...

Can't say I'm surprised by any of these choices...except maybe Double Dragon; They were a little under my radar...I mean, if it were up to me, this compilation would have included Malik DOPE, Noah Epps, Nolan Neal, Winston, Brothers Gage, Wesley Williams and Sheldon Riley...But Waffle and Spyros are probably my two favorite auditions this season overall, so whatever...

I guess these were pretty good auditions overall...A few boring episodes here and there, but there was still a handful of memorable acts...I'd LIKE to think they'll all make it next week, but we'll just wait and see...The format's going to make things VERY difficult, and we might not even see some of them compete again...

Even the Golden Buzzer choices had some decent variety for once! Only two of them were solo singers (one child, and one adult), and for the other spots we have a choir, a poet and a dance group...Waffle's still the only act that really excites me, but it's refreshing when it's not just four singers and a dance act...Plus, from a cynical business standpoint, the choices all make perfect sense...

As for which of them will win this season...Well, it's a VERY tough call...I'm still rooting for Waffle, and they DO have the right aspects to help them out...But so far, they're not quite raking in the same enthusiasm that other winners have...

Roberta has the most views BY FAR on Youtube...But does she really have the uniqueness or overwhelming hype that previous winners had? While I like her overall, I REALLY don't want her to win this season, because NOTHING about her is distinguishable compared to all previous winners...MAYBE the quality of her singing voice compared to other child singers, but even that is a tough comparison...

Otherwise, we've had child singers with much more unique gimmicks win in the past, she's not writing her own songs (yet), she doesn't have a unique genre...Hell, even in terms of which judge's Golden Buzzer she is, it's hard to root for her; It's only Sofia's first season, and she's basically filling in for Gab Union (whose GB won last season), who in turn filled in for Mel B (whose GB won two seasons before that). Come to think of it, aside from Howie's GB the season before THAT, the only judge who has SEEN their GB win each year was the female minority judge (seeing that NONE of the GB's won in Season 13...though it was probably MEANT to be Howie's again...)

Point being, if there's any season where Simon's GB is to win, it should be the one where he selects an act that has potential to be one of my favorites...I guess it wouldn't hurt to give Heidi a year either...Or hell, more seasons where the winner ISN'T a Golden Buzzer...(You never know...It could be Archie...)

Anyway, that's all I got for now...See you next week when we find out which lucky acts get to perform live...Or...well...as live as they can make it...(God, PLEASE don't make this our “new normal”!)

[searchingwardrobes]

Captain Swan is My Favorite Rom Com: Sleepless in Seattle 2/3

Rating: G for this story, but most of the stories in Captain Swan is My Favorite Rom-Com are rated T

Can also be read on Ao3

Tagging @snowbellewells @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @kday426 @bethacaciakay @teamhook @shipsxahoy @shady-swan-jones @tiganasummertree @artistic-writer @cat-sophia @hollyethecurious @coliferoncer @thejacketandthehook @dassala @branlovestowrite @allofdafandoms-blog @flslp87 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @pocket-anon @snidgetsafan @delirious-latenight-laughs @winterbaby89 @onceuponaprincessworld

Emma’s tires screeched as she flew into the space in the overnight parking deck. She grabbed her purse, frantically checking to make sure they had everything: keys, tickets, cash, her driver’s license, Dramamine in case of turbulence.

“Okay, kid,” she told Henry as she jumped out of the car, “we’re going to be racing to the terminal like in Home Alone. You ready?”

“I guess,” Henry grumbled.

“Seriously?” Emma couldn’t help snapping as she yanked their suitcase from her trunk. “Walsh got you a trip to Disney World for Christmas, and you’re having an attitude?”

Henry crossed his arms in front of him petulantly. “My affections cannot be bought.”

Emma rolled her eyes as she shoved Henry’s suitcase into his hands. “Where in the world do you get your vocabulary?”

“I read, Mom.”

Emma ran for the parking deck elevator. “It’s the happiest place on earth. Can you at least try to enjoy it?”

“You think Walsh might get tied up at work and not be able to join us? Cause that would make me very happy!”

Emma rubbed her forehead wearily as she jabbed at the elevator button. God, she and Walsh weren’t even married yet, and Henry’s stepchild syndrome was already giving her a migraine.

***********************************************

The post-holiday crowd at the Boston airport jostled their way through the baggage claim area. That was probably why Alice’s father had a firm grip on her hand, though she felt she was far too old for such things. They had arrived yesterday to unpack the boxes that had been shipped to Uncle Liam and Aunt Elsa’s new apartment and to make sure the furniture had been delivered. It had been hard work but fun, with pizza and camping out on the living room floor.

Alice spotted her aunt and uncle through the crowd and took off at a run, squealing with joy. Her father called after her in a panic, but she paid him no mind as Uncle Liam scooped her up into a big bear hug. He set her down only for her to be enveloped by Aunt Elsa.

Killian stood by, a rare smile upon his lips as he watched the reunion. His brother turned to him with a welcome grin and enveloped him in a hearty embrace.

“It’s good to see you, little brother.”

“Younger,” Killian corrected with a chuckle, “and the feeling is mutual.”

Liam patted his shoulders as he took a step back. “Well, I managed to cross the ocean that divided us, now I just have to get things squared away so I cross the continent as well.”

“Liam,” Elsa groaned, her arms still around Alice, “let’s not talk about business right now. It’s Christmas.”

“It was Christmas,” Alice corrected with a frown, “why couldn’t you get here sooner?”

“Oh honey, we wanted to,” Elsa explained, patting her cheeks, “but this was our last Christmas with my sister and her family. Next year we’ll be traveling across an ocean to see them.”

Killian rubbed at his clenched jaw. “You know you didn’t have to do this -”

“Don’t start that,” Elsa cut him off, stepping forward to give him a hug of her own, “you need us.”

“What he needs is a wife,” Alice piped up.

Killian’s jaw clenched again as he suppressed a groan. Elsa arched a brow at him and then

glanced over at Alice. “What’s this all about?” she asked.

Killian turned to his daughter with a pointed expression. “Why don’t you tell them what you did,

Alice?

She shrunk into herself as all three adults looked at her with raised brows.

“Papa . . . “

Kilian circled his hand in the air. “No, seriously, tell them. About the radio show.”

Alice’s blush crept all the way up to her ears.

“Radio show?” asked Elsa.

“Aye,” Killian explained, “on Christmas Eve Alice called into a radio show and told them I needed a new wife for Christmas,”

Elsa’s face morphed into a tender expression as she pressed a hand to her chest. “Oh Alice,” she sighed, pulling her niece close. Alice’s shame melted away at the understanding look in her aunt’s eyes. “She just wants you to be happy, Killian, we all do.”

“It’s been over two years -” Liam began, but he was silenced by Killian’s raised palm.

“Don’t, just don’t.”

“It’s perfectly fine to start dating again,” Elsa added, “Milah wouldn’t want -”

“Like it’s so easy. I’ll just grow a new heart,” Killian snapped. He bent to hoist Elsa’s carry-on over his shoulder, clearly conveying that the conversation was over. “It only happens once.”

Killian turned towards the airport doors and instantly collided with someone racing in. He instinctively reached out to steady the person with his hands at her shoulders, and found himself looking into a pair of jade eyes. The woman’s startled look softened and the hands that grasped the front of his shirt relaxed, her fingers grazing the exposed skin of his chest where his top buttons were undone. The featherlight brushes of her fingertips sent a jolt through his chest. Her cheeks were flushed, perhaps from the cold, and her golden hair was a riot of messy waves, most likely because she’d been in a rush. Killian blinked and gaped like a schoolboy. He hadn’t been so completely mesmerized by a woman’s beauty since . . .

“H-hello,” he stuttered.

“Hello,” she breathed out in return. Was she as affected as he was?

“Mom!”

The woman yanked her hands from his chest at the sound of the boy’s voice. The lad yanked on her arm.

“Mom, you said we were gonna miss our flight.”

The flush on her cheeks deepened as she turned quickly away from Killian.

“Papa, are you alright?” Alice’s words made him realize he was still staring at the woman’s retreating form.

Henry’s eyes fell on the little girl tugging on her father’s hand, and he gasped.

“Mom,” he cried as he was dragged down the concourse, “did you hear that? Their accents, and she called him Papa! I think it’s Alice and Killian. From the radio show Christmas Eve!”

“Henry, that’s ridiculous. This is Boston airport, that call came from Seattle.”

“But lots of people travel for the holidays,” Henry argued.

“And lots of people have British accents.”

“It’s them, Mom, I know it! I think it’s a sign.”

Emma sighed as she stopped at their gate and handed the tickets to the attendant. The man looked them over and told them to hurry on board, the plane was taking off soon. Henry picked up the conversation as they raced down the tunnel.

“What are the chances that we heard them on the radio and then two days later, we run into them?”

Emma ignored him as she found their seats and stowed their carry-ons. As she plopped into the seat next to him, she put her arm around him and smiled.

“Know what I think, kid? I do think this is a sign. A sign you’ve been spending way too much time with Mary Margaret.”

They both laughed, but Henry wasn’t giving up so easily. That magic Mary Margaret had talked about? He could feel it in the air.

******************************************************

When Henry got home from school, he passed his mom and her friend Ruby chatting in the kitchen. He gave his mom a quick hug then went to find a snack in the kitchen. He was standing in front of the pantry trying to decide between Oreos and Chips Ahoy when he heard it.

“Sleepless in Seattle?” Ruby asked.

Henry stilled, leaning towards the living room to hear better.

“That’s what she called him on the radio because he can’t sleep.” His mother paused, and he suddenly felt like she somehow had eyes in the kitchen. “Henry!” she called out. “What are you doing in there?”

“Getting Oreos!” he shouted back. He grabbed the package and shut the pantry door to emphasize his point.

“Use a bowl!”

“Ok!” He tossed a few cookies in a bowl, then grabbed the jug of milk from the fridge. He strained to hear the conversation, but his mother had lowered her voice. He quickly poured his milk, then walked back out into the living room. His mother clamped her mouth shut the minute she saw him. “Got homework,” he told her nonchalantly, forcing himself to barely glance her way.

His mother and Ruby stayed silent as he ascended the stairs. He went to his door, opened and shut it, then settled down on the top step. Sure enough, their conversation resumed once they thought he was out of earshot.

“Are you telling me you’re having fantasies about this man?” Ruby asked. He could hear his mother groan.

“I know,” she said, sounding like her voice was muffled. He could imagine his mom with a pillow smashed to her face. “I’m having fantasies about a man I’ve never met. I don’t even know what he looks like! He could be a chainsaw murderer, a cult leader, or someone really sick. Like . . . like . . . Neal.”

Henry grimaced. His mom had told him all about his dad. How he was older and took advantage of her, and how he was now in jail. Still, he sometimes wondered if it meant something was wrong with him too. No matter how many times his mom insisted he was the best thing that had ever happened to her, he still wondered if his dad’s DNA had tainted him somehow.

“So if you think it’s so crazy,” Ruby asked, “why can’t you stop thinking about him?”

“I don’t know . . . he just started talking about how much he loved his wife, and suddenly I was crying.”

“Whoa. Emma Swan does not cry. Especially about sappy stuff.”

“I know! It totally threw me, Rubes! What’s wrong with me?”

“And then there was the guy at the airport?” Ruby asked. “You think he’s the same guy.”

“No, Henry thinks he is. But it was so strange, Ruby. It was like we had met before . . . I just felt this . . . connection.”

Emma trailed off, and it was quiet for a while. Even though he couldn’t see them, Henry had a feeling his mother had her head in Ruby’s lap right now and the brunette was combing her fingers through her hair.

“I think,” Ruby finally said, “that this has more to do with Walsh than this mystery man.”

“Ugh, I feel awful. I’m engaged to Walsh, and I’m fantasizing about someone else. What kind of person does that make me?”

“It makes you a woman who wants more,” Ruby replied. “I think that’s why you can‘t get Sleepless in Seattle out of your head. You want the kind of love he had with his wife. And the guy at the airport? You want electricity! And let’s face it, honey, you don’t have either of those things with Walsh. That man may be loyal, but he’s boring as hell.”

“Walsh is a good man,” Emma protested. “He’s steady, he makes a good living, he’s responsible . . . and he adores me.”

Henry clutched his glass of milk so hard he was afraid it might shatter. This was his mom’s speech. Had Ruby heard it as many times as he had?

“You’ve said that, Emma. But do you love him?”

Henry held his breath, counting the beats of his heart waiting for his mother’s answer. When it didn’t readily come, he heard Ruby sigh.

“I think you should at least write to this guy in Seattle. Make sure Walsh is the one.”

“I never said Walsh wasn’t the one!” Emma argued. “And are you insane? I can’t write a letter to a man I’ve never met! Besides, I bet he’s being flooded with letters already. Do you know how many women were asking for his number on the air that night alone?”

“Well, if you won’t write him maybe I will,” Ruby teased. “You’ve made him sound like a dream.”

“Don’t you dare, Rubes!”

Henry heard his mother and Ruby squealing and laughing, and the sounds of pillows thudding against the sofa. He rose from the top stair and made his way to his room, opening and closing the door with agonizing slowness. He set his untouched snack down on his nightstand and went over to his desk. He pulled out a pen and a sheet of paper and began to write.

“Dear Sleepless in Seattle . . . “

[samtheflamingomain]

hello wisconsin!

Okay, I'm garbage and have been putting this off for ages. I finished binging That 70's Show like a month ago and have been building this post for just as long.

I started this post at the beginning of season 6. Read it as such. I'll let you know when the part I wrote at season 6 ends and where I pick it back up in the present. If that makes sense.

I'm starting at season 6 mostly because I'm pretty sure the shark is going to be jumped at some point soon. Just like MASH, which lasted longer than the Korean war, 70's stretches 2 years of high school into 5 seasons. Plus another 3 for some reason.

And that's my first point. New rule: if your TV show appreciates in time and the events in the show don't line up with that, you've fucked up. I just watched 5 seasons of the kids in high school. You're telling me this shit goes on for another 75 fucking episodes?

Look, MASH I can give a pass to because they don't mark specific points in the war to give the watcher any time reference. MASH gives no dates - it's feasible that a 5-year war could span 10+ seasons, if we guess that each season is 6 months long. (That's not how it really works, but you get the point).

70's STARTS THE SHOW at the end of grade 11, and we know this. To a rational person, that means "One season of grade 11, 2 for grade 12, maybe another for summers." Then. They. Graduate. And. Leave.

But that's... not happening. For ANY of the main characters. They just decided to extend a show about high schoolers into their *supposed* college years. Which I wouldn't even have minded much - if ANY of them ACTUALLY WENT TO COLLEGE.

If they hadn't made things so cut-and-dry regarding timeframes, They could've kept being 12th graders for 10 seasons for all I care. But they CHOSE to follow defined timespans. And I think that's what's got me feeling that season 5 might've been the last "good season".

So everything you've read, I wrote before I finished the show. And, well, turns out I was right. This is also from before I finished the show (with a few things I’ve thrown in now):

There's a lot to disect from 70s, but there's one I want to focus on: Red Forman.

Why? Well, these characters are static and uninteresting: Donna, Fes* and Bob. They're pretty useless in terms of character development. These ones have simple character arcs: Hyde, Eric and Kitty. They change and grow, but in pretty predictible ways. In terms of change, Jackie obviously takes the cake, with Kelso at a close second.

*It is actually spelled Fes, because that's not his name. It's an acronym for Foreign Exchange Student.

But there's only one character that never seems to change or grow at all: Red. I said "seems" because he does change and grow, but it's instantaneous and doesn’t come for a looooong time.

It takes place immediately after returning from fishing, after Eric tells him he and Donna are engaged. He reaches a very sound, strong position: he made Eric run the gauntlet on everything he shit his way, but Eric never gave up. So he gives Eric the blessing to marry Donna. (There's another very pivotal change in his character, but that's later.)

I would've called that a nice wrap-up to the series.

But then they had to give him a damn heart attack to keep all the kids here. Why? Fuck if I know. (Jackie's still in high school and Hyde has a job he likes at home, but there is literally no reason for any of these other kids to still be here.)

The stupid heart-attack got Eric to push back college. I was fine with that. Then the whole Casablanca shit with Donna not getting on the bus, well, it kinda pissed me off (like, girl, don't let a fuckin weak ass ferret man determine your future) but it was a pretty sweet, moving moment. Another one that would've been great to end the show on.

But they didn't. So now we have Kelso, future cop; Fes, unemployed illegal immigrant with ZERO CHARACTER TRAITS THAT PEOPLE CARE ABOUT; and Eric “Dog Food” Forman.

Anyway, back to Red. It was that one heartwarming moment when he came back from fishing that made me realize that, while this is obviously fiction, Red is the epitome of a psychologically abusive parent. And THAT'S when I realized that literally not one of the characters HASN'T gone through significant trauma. Red's a vet; Kitty's an alcoholic who lost her father; Eric has an abusive father and alcoholic mother; Donna has a mentally retarded ball of pubic hair as a father and her mother ran out; Hyde's parents split; Jackie's dad's in jail and mom fucked off. I refuse to talk about Fes anymore cuz he's just the stupidest, most irritating "character" on the show, Randy notwithstanding. "He's brown! And has a funny accent! Hahaha" - nobody, ever.

It's when I realized that we NEVER see ANY of Kelso's home life did I realize that he was likely the sanest of the group. And, like him outscoring both Hyde and Eric on the SATs, that's very, very sad.

Back to Red. We know he became traumatized and hardened by serving in two wars. We know he's treated Eric like garbage his entire life... yet Eric is pretty well-adjusted. And that is where, 5000 words in, we get to my point: abuse is played for laughs and it's fine because Eric has a snappy comeback to Red most of the time.

Eric Foreman's a sarcastic wit with great comedic timing. So that, according to the show, cancels out of all the times Red's told Eric he was stupid and degraded him in front of his friends.

Of course, conflict has to come from somewhere, and one's parents is that major source for most teens. But to an extent.

"Red's a hardass," as the kids say regularly. But no, being a hardass is refusing a kid candy till he finishes his broccoli. Not telling him he's worthless over and over and over for 17 years

And I don't care what anyone says: that amount of abuse over a child's life does not a snappy, well-adjusted Eric Forman make.

It makes me. A crumbling, shattered, fragmented person with no sense of self-worth or accomplishment.

And now, we’re caught up. Back in the present, having finished the show.

My point ended up being made.

If the show had ended at season 5 with Donna missing her bus, we would've missed a lot.

Look, I still firmly believe the show itself would've been better if it had ended earlier, but my complaints about the effect of Red's abuse of Eric would've gone unanswered.

I spent the next 3 seasons mildly annoyed that they existed - first, Eric doesn't go to college. Then neither does Donna. Why are they still around? Why do we still care? The whole point of the show was to show us high schoolers graduating and going off to college. To me, it felt like how it would feel if MASH continued after the war ended.

I was absolutely irrate when Eric announced the theme of season 7 would be "I'm taking a year off to eat and watch TV and sleep!" There was a great scene that's often seen on tumblr in gif form: at breakfast, Red asks Eric what he's going to do about: moving out, Donna, his job, and his future. He replies "I 'unno" to each question. Red tells him to have a plan by the end of the day if he wants to eat. And I said "Finally, some good fucking Red Forman." Then, at the end of the day, Eric announces: "Donna? Hanging out. Job? Quit. Future? None. When am I moving out? Make. Me."

To which I said, "THAT'S WHAT YOU DID LAST SEASON BITCH!" Only apparently I was wrong; Eric Forman could and did become even more useless than before.

But at least it gets us to my absolute favorite point in the entire series. Season 7, episode 9, 18 minutes in. (Thanks to Reddit for helping me locate this scene). Red is bitching at Eric for not knowing what to do with his life. Let's go straight to the transcript (with side jokes edited out):

E: Did it ever occur to you guys that I don't know what I'm doing? I'm scared, okay? Look. My whole life, I've been trying to please other people. So I feel like I don't know who I am. Or know what I want to do with my life. I just don't want to wake up in five years and hate my life.

R: That's unavoidable.

E: Okay, I just need more time to think.

R: You know what I got for my 18th birthday? A draft notice and a Malaria vaccine. I never had time to *think.*

E: Yeah, but Dad, don't you think it would've been helpful if you did?

Then the camera zooms in on Red, and no laugh track, no jokes, he thinks for a good 20 seconds. Then he says, "Okay. I'll give you six months."

It's my favourite scene. Even more than the one we get after fishing or the one before leaving for Africa. Because unlike those few heartfelt scenes, this one relies on Red. Being. Wrong. And admitting it.

There's a reason Eric's spent his whole life trying to please others: Red. There's a reason Eric doesn't know who he is: Red.

Throughout the entire series, Red's been a Conservative Republican veteran who, as Kitty puts it, "Thinks the only way to become a man is to DIE." Just 500 words ago, I called him abusive. And, let's be real, he is.

But I also had an abusive father. That's why I picked this direction for this post to go. I saw Scott in Red Forman. But they are NOT the same.

Red Forman will admit to being wrong. And that makes up for a whole goddamn lot. Going through abuse is not something I'd wish on my worst enemy. But if they did and their abuser ADMITTED HE WAS WRONG, that is NOT nothing to the abused. If my dad had admitted he was a dick, my life would be a LOT different.

And Eric is the epitome of that feeling. His eyes light up when Red says he'll give him six months. Because Red knows he's done Eric wrong. He knows he owes him at least this much. At various points throughout the series it's been pointed out that Eric is who he is because of Red. It was inevitable that Red, too, would eventually reach this conclusion.

Anyway. That's that.

I do want to talk about other things than Eric and Red Forman, so let's play all the hits: fuck Jackie and Fes, fuck Randy with a chainsaw, the moment the show jumped the shark was when Eric bailed on the wedding, fuck Randy with a hot curling iron, Fes is the most annoying and useless character on the show, LOVED the episode where they finally Green Out™ and Kelso calls the White House, and FUCK RANDY WITH A CEREMONIAL JAPANESE KATANA.

Look. I can't in good conscience indulge in a 70's review without talking Randy.

But I hate him so much I don't want to waste energy on him so let's get this over with: useless, Gary Stu, want to put his hair through a blender, fuck him for being in the cirle in the theme song.

Okay, but let's play one last one: Tommy Chong.

I was curious as to why he was absent for 3 seasons so I Googled it. Dude was in prison for selling bongs. He said, upon getting out and returning to the show, "I thought they would've made that a part of the show!" I think that says it all about Leo and why he's my favorite character, with Hyde as a close second. But FUCK Danny Masterson and FUCK Scientology. Look it up.

Well, to finish off, an interesting tidbit: at the end of the theme song, it is Hyde who shouts "Hello Wisconsin!". The entire time, for 200 episodes, I would've sworn on my life that it was Kelso.

Stay Greater.

[din-skywalker]

Your Heart Part 1

Yyyooooo I got inspired by a fan animation thing using the song “Zombie Song” to write this and I love the idea and yes there will be moooorrrreeeeee. Eeeeeekkkk i Love writing this I hope y’all like it like I do:

¨Jack!” Mark calls as he runs through the streets, chainsaw held tightly in his hand as he rushes to find the Irishman. Jack had left the safe house a few hours ago and there had been no sign of him or Ethan since. Mark had began to grow worried after the first hour, Tyler reassuring him that they were probably fine. But then another hour passed and they were heading out the door, Amy and Kathryn in tow. They had split up- not many zombies in this area, they couldn't be overrun- to cover more ground, Mark going north, Tyler south, Amy west and Kathryn south. Mark has been searching for around half an hour now and he still has had no luck in finding them, continuosly calling out to them desperately. ¨Ethan!¨

His loud footsteps echo around the back alley as he hurries to beat the setting sun, knowing that he have to retreat back to safety once darkness fell upon them. Most zombies came out during the dark. Most zombies found the light to be too painful for their sensitive eyes. Most zombies were docile during the day, turning vicious and violent in the darkness of the night. He knew that he didn't have much time left. And neither did the others. Especially Jack and Ethan.

¨Mark!¨ He stops in his tracks at the choppy call of his name, fett skidding to a halt on the gritty and wet pavement. He turns to look at a door, eyes trailing a trail of blood leading into said door. His stomach does a flip at the sight. ¨We're in here!¨

Mark bursts through the door, this leading to an old apartment building. The lobby is empty yet neat, giving an eerie feel of it being frozen in time, as though people would come back in the next day or week for work. The illusion is only broken by a set of dust on each surface and the trail of blood leading behind a desk where he hears heavy breathing. He rushes over, finding Ethan crouched in the corner, a hand on a bleeding shoulder as he breathes heavily. Mark swallows when he sees this and instantly begins to cut at his shirt, only stopping when Ethan yells: ¨He's still here!¨

¨What? Who? Were you bitten?¨ Mark fires the questions, needing immediate answers for this dire situation. And then he hears the soft groaning of a zombie, the stomach twisting hissing of an undead creature. He darts back around, nearly throwing up at the sight.

Jack is on the floor on the other side of the room, hidden behind some of the furniture that had been left behind. He´s sprawled out on his side, shirt ripped and stomach torn open, organs and blood spilling out and onto the floor. More blood stains the now pale skin of his neck where a bite mark is, making small holes in the flesh. His once baby blue eyes are now filled with complete white, only a dot of blue in the center remaining. He´s growling softly, eyes tilted down towards the ground as he hisses for breath.

¨How long has he been there? Like that?¨ Mark questioned, throat tight. Oh god this could not be happening. All of them had been so careful to not be bitten, to not be killed. Jack could not be in this state; this has to be a trick from his mind. Jack is actually okay, merely scratched by metal or something else. He was okay and would be okay. His stomach and entrails are not currently spilt onto the floor, staining the light colored carpet a darker color. He is not currently infected and becoming a zombie. He is completely fine.

But his thoughts are broken as the Irishman lifts his head once heś finished speaking, the milky white eyes landing on him and locking on. The corners of Jackś chapped lips begin to tremble and lift, turning upwards into a smile and Mark has to swallow bile as his teeth are covered in red. ¨M- Maaaaarrrrrrkkk,¨ Jack hissed out and his stomach does another flip. Jack´s voice is terribly broken and high pitched, squealing and grinding against Mark´s brain.

¨He was bitten hours ago,¨ Ethan replied and his voice is tight. Mark can hear tears in his voice and his heart aches for the other. Ethan is so kind hearted and in a way innocent that this must have been a terrible and difficult thing to go through. ¨He was bitten and we were far away and I got stabbed so I didn't know what to do and-” Mark hushes him and Ethan shakes his head, a rogue tear trailing down his cheek. ¨Heś been laying like that for the past hour and I can´t move and this is all my fault.¨ He then breaks down when a sob erupts from his lips. Mark frowns but keeps his attention on Jack, knowing that he could currently be dangerous. ¨What do we do, Mark?¨

Jack lifts his head higher as Ethan says Markś name, arms shaking in the slightest as he lifts his chest. ¨Maarrrrkkkk,¨ he groans once more and Mark could swear he hears recognition in his voice. But thatś not possible. Zombies don't remember anything- theyŕe dead.

¨We have to kill him,¨ Mark replied,voice barely a whisper as he even considers the idea. The organs shift and slide as Jack lifts himself further, moving so slowly and Mark can't move or breathe. Ethan sobs once more behind him, grabbing at his arm as he lifts the chainsaw.

¨We can't Mark, we can't!¨ Ethan cried, yanking at his arm as Mark tries to stand, to do what needs to be done.

¨We have to, Ethan!” Mark shouts, a tear of his own slipping from the corner of his eye, heart shattering at the sound. ¨H-he´s dead now, anyway.¨

Mark yanks his arm from Ethan's hands and the blue haired boy crumbles and curls in on himself, sobbing silently now as Mark slowly stands, keeping himself low. Jack is still moving, still pushing himself up and off the ground as he moves his legs, pushes at the ground with one knee to lift himself. Mark pauses as the zombie stands fully, some of the organs which had slipped out fully snapping off now. The grin is still on his pale face as he stumbles forward, no crazed or lost look in his eyes as he stares at Mark´s face. Mark shifts a little, readjusting his hold on the chainsaw to prepare himself.

Jack pauses suddenly, eyes landing on the chainsaw. Now he loses the grin, gains a look of sloppy confusion. ¨M- Marrrk?” he muttered, questioning coating his tone. “Wh- whaaatt doinngg?”

Mark swallows heavily and shuts his eyes tightly. This should not be possible. Zombies can't speak much less think. He draws in a deep breath, eyes landing on Jack once more and he’s struck once more that this is his friend- he can´t just murder him! He begins to feel dizzy and he has to bite down on his tongue, more tears sliding from his eyes as he tries and fails to steel himself.

“Maarrrrkkkk?” Jack hisses once more and oh god he still has his accent, still sounds so familiar. “Whaaat… wrrrong?”

Mark let´s out a sob as he´s asked this, hands giving out as he drops the chainsaw, the weapon hitting the ground with a clatter. He watches as Jack grins once more, slowly hobbling over and fumbling for his hand. His dead skin hits Mark’s hand and he yanks his hand away, letting out another broken sob. This couldn’t be happening. He can’t kill Jack; even if he is a zombie.

“It… okaaayyy,” Jack continues and grabs Mark’s hands again. This time Mark doesn’t tear his hands away. Mark draws in a shuddering breath as Jack meets his eyes and a rancid scent hits his nose. It’s the smell of blood and open flesh. “Everrrryythinggg…. willll Be okaaaayyyyy.”

And those words break every chance of Mark being able to kill Jack.

;;;;;

Tell me what y’all think!!!!

@thanxolotl @the-host-will-answer