#and it’s completely my own fault because I can’t fucking socialize

[seilon]

man im really fucking bad at hanging out with people no wonder i have like two friends

[tch8mnis]

OPPOSITES ATTRACT - JAMAL MUSIALA

summary: while she’s bold and outgoing and he’s quiet and reserved, they were bound to crack at some point right?

thank u so much for the request @amirareads i hope i did this justice!!

genre: angst (mostly just arguing), fluff, happy ending

“i just think you need to calm down a bit on the social media! why are you twisting my words?”

“i’m not twisting your words jamal but your trying to control my life and how i present myself because you only care about yourself!”

the argument had been ongoing for hours. days even, which is why the tension between the two is so high. ultimately, the two never fought until recently.

the problem was, they were just extremely different.

jamal never liked for his private life to be too much in the public. although it was difficult considering he’s one of the best young footballers in the world playing for one of the best clubs in europe, he did a pretty good job keeping his private life private.

y/n was the complete opposite.

the internet loved her despite having her own job outside of social media. during the euros, she was labeled “the princess of germany” or “the wag of the tournament”. everyone loved her.

after the amount of attention she gained, she started receiving brand deals. vogue wanted to interview her and she even became a fashion nova ambassador. her life totally changed after that and she would say it changed for the better.

jamal would disagree.

don’t get him wrong, he was over the moon with how happy y/n was. he loved the fact that people were starting to see her in the light he saw her in.

but then it got too much.

he couldn’t ignore the amount of thirst comments he’s seen in her comments from random men, especially other footballers. that pissed him off.

so was it jealousy? maybe. he wouldn’t deny it.

but then with the amount of deals she was getting, some of them required her to go to events. a lot of them.

jamal was a laid back type of guy. he didn’t mind going out with his girlfriend, of course not. but it got to the point where it was overwhelming for him. it felt like his private life was now becoming public the more attention y/n got and he didn’t know how to deal with it.

he didn’t want to blame his girlfriend because it really wasn’t her fault but it became stressful.

which is how they got here.

the pair were seated at the secluded part of the restaurant having dinner. it was their 2 year anniversary which was extremely special to the both of them.

they were enjoying their time together until jamal brought up the topic that’s been bothering him for the past week.

and then, the arguement started.

it wasn’t quite classy for them to argue in a restaurant but here they were.

“that’s not what it is, though.” jamal groaned dragging his hands down his face. he was starting to get a headache and trying his hardest not to cause a scene.

y/n furrowed her eyebrows before leaning in a bit. “well help me understand then because that’s what it sounds like.”

the boy sighed. he could feel the guilt brewing in his stomach for starting this whole conversation in the first place. he should’ve just kept quiet.

“it’s just….” he started, softly grabbing the girl’s hands across the table. “you’ve started to become more of a public figure or whatever and that’s not a bad thing at all but it feels like it affects my private life a bit which i’m not really comfortable with i guess.” he tried to explain, watching his girlfriend’s reaction carefully. he truly didn’t know how to explain it without sounding selfish.

y/n scoffed, pulling her hands away from jamal’s leaving his cold tense. “are you kidding me? i get that you want to keep your life private, trust me i do and you can keep doing that but you can’t blame me for that. it’s like your saying you want me to stop doing these brand deals and events that you claimed to be happy about.”

“that's not what im saying-"

that's exactly what you're saying!"

“no it’s not, fuck! i can’t do this right now” he snapped before pushing his chair out and gathering his stuff. y/n watched in confusion as he placed his card on the table and stood up from his seat. “im going back to the house, if we keep arguing im gonna say something i’ll regret and i can’t do that.” he murmured turning on his feet and walking away, leaving the girl sitting at her seat with tears in her eyes.

she hadn’t even knew what just happened. one minute they were smiling and reminiscing old times and the next her boyfriend was walking out leaving her alone in a restaurant with no way to get home.

y/n thanked her uber driver before opening the door just to see her and jamal’s house come into view. she can see his car parked in the driveway meaning he arrived home.

after he left her alone.

her heart was still aching from the argument. they’ve had a few arguments here and there in their relationship but never to the point where he walked away from her like that. she sped up her walking towards the door feeling her throat close up as the tears continued to spill. she pulled her house keys out her bag and opened the door quietly. the house was dead silent which made her second guess jamal’s presence but then his car keys sat on the kitchen counter told her he was there.

she slipped her heels off and left them at the door before walking up the stairs, pausing when she was at her bedroom door. the lights were off but you can still see the clear figure of someone lying in the bed.

that figure being jamal.

he was sound asleep, soft snores coming from his mouth. she quietly slipped into the room, pulled her pajamas from the closet and walked right back out towards the guest room.

there was no way she was sleeping with him tonight.

after changing she slipped into the very unfamiliar bed and closed her eyes trying to fall asleep. it was difficult. of course it was. she never slept without jamal right next to her unless he had an away game she couldn’t make it to. but other than that? this was totally new for her and she didn’t like it.

she finally fell asleep when the sun started to rise and only slept for about 3 hours before waking up again. her eyes still burned from the tears she cried the night before. she slowly got out of bed and went to the bathroom where she brushed her teeth and took a shower, then walking downstairs to cook breakfast.

it was obvious jamal was still asleep. training started later on in the day today so he was able to sleep in.

was she still upset? of course she was, but she was still going to cook for him. she would never not feed him despite what situation they were in.

she settled for some basic pancakes with eggs and bacon. it was jamal’s favorite.

a part of her didn’t want to give him anything at all after yesterday, but she couldn’t do that.

eventually jamal woke up and walked downstairs after getting himself together to see his girlfriend making 2 separate plates of food.

the sight of y/n made his heart clench. he regretted everything that went down yesterday. he had time to reflect on everything and realized he was being incredibly wrong and selfish and it only made it worse to walk out the way he did.

if he could go back and change what he did, he would.

he quietly walked over to where she placed his plate of food and sat down, watching her walk over and sit next to him. they both ate in silence but it wasn’t the awkward silence.

it was more of a calming silence. you wouldn’t be able to tell something went down last night.

but it did. and they had talk about it.

after they finished eating she gathered both their plates and walked to the sink getting ready to clean them and that’s when jamal began to speak.

“i know your mad about yesterday..” he spoke with a shaky voice. “and trust me you have every right to be. i had time last night to think about everything and realize how wrong i was and im really sorry about that. my intentions were to never blame you or anything like that i was just being selfish and only thinking about myself and i regret it so much bc your the thing i care the most about in this world and leaving you at the restaurant alone at night will haunt me for days because i really can’t believe i did that. you mean the absolute world to me and im really sorry.” by the time he was finished speaking, y/n was already done with the dishes and listening to him speak.

she stood there for a while before walking toward him. he followed her figure until she reached him and watched as she wrapped her arms around him. the second she did, his tense body relaxed and wrapped his hands around her waist to bring her closer.

“i’m so so sorry, please forgive me.” he begged into her neck as she softly scratched the back of his neck. she was upset but she could never stay mad at him. she loved him too much.

“it’s okay i promise.” she hugged him tighter, wanting to be closer to him. he then pulled away and leaned in to place his lips on hers, feeling the tension slowly drift away between the two as their lips moved together.

when they ran out of breath, they both pulled away and jamal leaned his forehead against hers.

“i love you”

“i love you too.”

author’s note: omg this was supposed to come out last week i’m so sorry for the delay but i hope you enjoyed regardless!

[satuguro]

*ೃ࿐TO FAULT A NET

[ ACT II: A QUESTION OF MORALITY ]

spider-man! ethan landry x black cat! reader

#SYNOPSIS— tara thinks not even a murderer can disturb you, you have no friends and spider-man knows, and your cats like spider-man a little too much.

#CONTAINS— enemies to lovers, slowburn, antihero&vigilante reader, familial issues, gore, blood, murder, death, sexual/suggestive content (in this part & some other parts), reader is overly flirtatious

#AUTHORSNOTE— thank you so much for the support on the first part xoxo

ACT I, ACT II, ACT III, ACT IV, ACT V, EPILOGUE

you shut your book as lecture was concluded, gathering your notebook and notes together and putting them into your bag. your headphones hung around your neck, and in any other day you would’ve put it on and not said a word to anyone, but you were standing next to tara, waiting patiently for her to pack up.

her hands were shaking slightly as she shoved her items into her backpack hurriedly, occasionally dropping pencils. “fuck,” tara muttered under her breath, quickly picking up her dropped pencils and putting them into her bag haphazardly.

“you seem on edge,” you stated dryly, making her huff in frustration. of course, you knew the reason why; there was no need for her to treat you like a therapist and tell you everything.

“that’s one way to put it.” tara sighed as she threw her backpack over her shoulder. she walked alongside you as you made your way towards the exit. “you don’t usually wait for me,” she stated, glancing at you suspiciously, though you were looking ahead of you and not at her.

“i guess this class is finally teaching you something,” you hummed, looking at her from the corner of your eye. she didn’t seem to let it up, still tensed as you sighed, rolling your eyes. “call it a change of heart.” your response didn’t calm her completely, but her shoulders relaxed.

you both passed your professor, who acknowledged your leave with a small, “miss carpenter, miss vaughn,” which you only nodded at. you walked ahead of tara and held the door open for her.

“did you hear about the murders?” tara asked, tilting her head at you as you began to walk. she was probing at you, you knew that, but you knew better than to admit that ‘no, i’m not worried because i steal things to pay rent rather than kill people and i’d rather pay attention to that,’ so you kept it as honest as you could.

“‘course i did. just because i have no friends doesn’t mean i live under a rock, tara,” you teased with a slight smile, making her roll her eyes. she couldn’t even deny it; she of all people knew you kept to yourself. the only time she ever saw you socializing was at parties, flirting with guys and making them believe they were in charge of the situation before you led them upstairs (when you obviously had them wrapped around your finger).

“well, obviously. it’s just.. everyone seems so on edge, and it makes sense!” tara added hurriedly, “i’m not saying it doesn’t! but you look so..”

“so..?” you raised a brow.

“so calm.” tara let out a long sigh, hands holding onto the straps of her backpack. “i don’t know how you do it.”

was she asking you how to stay calm? you blinked, trying to analyze her words in a way you could understand. was she indirectly asking you for advice? “well, this is kind of an atypical situation to stay calm in,” you began, glancing at her, “but i’d say i’m just too spiteful to let anyone other than me influence how i feel. i’m not gonna let some psycho have so much power over me that i can’t live my life, y’know? i've been stressed out enough."

you looked away from tara, only slightly embarrassed at your own words. this was why you had no friends; too much second hand embarrassment. your eyes settled on the pavement ahead of you, tilting your head in interest at the sight of tara’s friend group; her sister, sam, mindy (who you only knew because you had taken a shot with her once) and some other people you didn’t know.

“you give good advice, y/n.” tara said, making you scoff as you raised a hand and waved her compliment away.

“whatever,” you said, managing a small smile her way. turning back to her friends (who were walking closer) you said a quick, “stay safe, tara,” before you walked away, allowing her friend group to walk up to her.

you passed by a brunette boy as you put your headphones on, not bothering to say hello to tara’s group (they were her friends, not yours). but you were too preoccupied with your music to notice that you had passed ethan, who looked back at you as you walked away. he took in your form, how you dressed in strictly black and white clothes yet had a tote bag with a small cat charm on it. he didn’t even get a good look at you, but he found himself watching you walk away.

“dude.” chad nudged his shoulder, breaking him from his stupor. a knowing grin made its way onto his friend's face, one that made ethan’s ears and cheeks burn red.

“don’t say anything.”

“who is she?” chad asked shamelessly loud, ignoring ethan’s groan of embarrassment. his voice broke the conversation the girls were having, making them lean in out of interest.

“literally no one!” ethan exclaimed, silently begging for chad to not make a big deal out of it. he’s been on his ass for ‘not putting himself out there’ and choosing the library life instead. he always told him off for never truly living a life of someone his age.

if only chad knew that ethan had been craving that feeling of living as though he was his age and not some 30 year old man. but after richie’s death and after he basically (almost) cut off his family (not to mention his secret nighttime job as a superhero), he felt as though that was basically impossible. simply put, ethan landry had more important things to focus on rather than worry about living like a college student.

“not really no one,” tara stated, poking her head into the conversation. “that’s y/n vaughn—”

“another side character. see— probably gonna die,” mindy said to her girlfriend, anika, who sighed as she squeezed her hand reassuringly.

“sure, babes.." anika said, "but maybe don’t assume everyone tara talks to is like, cursed or something?”

“i only ever talk to her during my psych class, so don’t worry,” tara huffed, sitting down at a nearby bench. chad wordlessly sat next to her. “i probably haven’t cursed her. besides, she doesn’t seem like the type to be really bothered by that stuff.”

“what does that mean?” ethan asked, sitting next to chad.

“she’s just really straightforward— the nonchalant type, y’know.”

“even more suspicious!” mindy stood up in front of them as though she was ready to give a presentation; which, honestly, she kind of was. a dark look befell her features as she began to talk about the possible suspects, listing off everyone’s name one by one and including one extra; y/n vaughn.

you polished every one of your retractable claws, pulling your lamp over it to allow it to shine brightly. it was razor sharp at this point, as you had been using everything in your power to make them as dangerous to others as possible. your room was boiling hot, and you had opened up the window of your room, silently thankful you had a balcony and not a fire escape. at least then, no psychos could casually climb up to your apartment.

the photo of you and your father was situated on the corner of your table as you worked; you, age only 8, were wearing huge headphones as you sat on your father’s shoulders at a rock concert. it was one of the few photos you had of your dad, and while you didn’t want to think of yourself as a particularly sentimental person, you were probably just in denial. because even as you worked and only saw it in the corner of your eye, you felt that familiar tug of pain in your chest.

if only he knew that you had a deal with an insect themed superhero.

you checked the clock, letting out a sigh upon seeing ‘11:12 am’ flash back at you. you were already 12 minutes late to your meeting with the hero, and you weren't even dressed yet. the sound of paws hitting your table and a soft coo made you turn your head towards one of your cats, a genuine smile gracing your features.

"how did i get into this situation, bitters?" you sighed, holding your hand up and feeling bitters rub his black fur under it, purring loudly. reluctantly, you stood up and began to get dressed, stripping before pulling on your usual black suit and mask. you reached for your gloves on the table and retracted your claws before reaching for the rest of your equipment; your grappling hook, your throwing knives, and your gun. the murderer (or murderers) were clever, you knew that, and they probably spent months or years preparing for their plan.

you never underestimated someone with a drive to kill.

the night was calm, void of any strong and chilly winds. the moon was still as full as ever, hanging over you like a lamp as you made your way out your window and shot your grappling hook up to the nearby building's ledge. pulling yourself up and over to the next roof, you began to run, allowing the adrenaline to flow smoothly through your veins.

your legs helped you jump over the gaps between the buildings as though it was second nature to you; and in a way, it was. you had been stealing ever since your father died, only taking up bigger projects when you were 16. you knew how to slink your way between alleys and roads, how to travel across streets and cops undetected. you weren't a novice.

the building in front of tara and sam's apartment came into view as you neared. you saw the familiar red and blue hero situated on the rooftop, his back to you as you set your feet down on the floor. immediately, he turned around, as though you had made all the sound in the world. only mildly perturbed, you rolled your eyes. "is that one of your little powers? being able to tell when i'm here?"

standing up to look at you, he crossed his arms over his chest. "you're 30 minutes late," spider-man said annoyedly, making you sigh exaggeratedly, walking towards him. one of your gloved hands came to flick his arm as you passed him.

"you're such a sourpuss. i wasn't aware that you were so strict about our meetings." squatting down to avoid detection, you gazed at the apartment building. he was practically radiating warmth, for as he sat next to you, you felt his warmth going off of him in waves. having powers must've made him similar to a furnace. throwing a quick look at him, you managed a smirk and added, "i didn't know you were so desperate to see me."

he scoffed at your words, shaking his head in disbelief. "jesus, not everything is about you, you know," he grumbled, "i needed you here on time so that we could talk about that information you gave me yesterday."

"right," you drawled, "the shit about the stab masks and the roommates. i was gonna ask one of the mafias i've worked with if they knew anything about that." you had told him what had happened after you had called the police to laura crane's body. you had followed the perpetrator after recognizing his backpack, and found him walking into his dorm room (which was at your college, another detail that truly made you think about whether you should just stop going to classes). he was killed right after you had left him, unwilling to call the police for obvious reasons, but you wanted to keep an eye on him. and while it wasn't your m.o, you might have killed him.

but spider-man didn't know that.

"i don't think there's only one killer. and as it's shown in the past, there's almost always two," spider-man said thoughtfully, eyes focused on the window view the both of you had into tara and sam's kitchen. unbeknownst to you, spider-man was also adamant on watching their apartment for another reason; quinn was in there. ethan wanted to keep an eye on his sister and protect her as much as he could, because he knew that being friends with the woodsboro survivors put her in as much danger as them.

you scoffed. "well, that's obvious. being that codependent on someone else has got to make you a sociopathic murderer. placing that much trust on another that you murder together.. that's collateral damage. they're practically bound for failure."

spider-man sent you a look (or as much of a look as he could with his mask covering his entire face). "i bet you have tons of friends with that mindset, kitty."

you rolled your eyes at his words. "thanks, spider, you're such a wonderful person to be around while we stake out this killer," you said dryly, letting out a huff.

"trust me," spider-man chuckled in disbelief, "the fact that i'm stuck with a criminal with more of an attitude problem than anyone i've ever met doesn't exactly make me thrilled."

you let out a joyless laugh. who was he to even talk to you like that? you weren't going to let some baby-man with powers talk about you as though you were nothing. "you can do this shit alone then, spider." you stood up, making him stand up alongside you. an accusatory finger poked at his chest. "if you can't deal with my attitude—"

"i'm surprised anyone can," spider-man seethed, walking closer to you.

you clenched your jaw, fists clenching as you stopped yourself from throwing a punch. "all that stuff about asking the mafia, you—"

spider-man's head turning to his left as he murmured a small, "shut up." his head turned around him frantically, as though he was suddenly searching for something. he felt that familiar chill run through his entire nervous system, and yet he found himself running a blank. nothing was happening; nothing he could see, at least.

"i won't, actually! you can kiss that plan goodbye if you keep being such a fucking—" spider-man grabbed your arm, his hold not tight, but firm enough to cut your words off.

"something is happening right now. and i don't know what it is." he seemed panicked as he spoke, as though everything was running on overdrive. usually he knew exactly what was happening, but he didn't know what this time. he couldn't see anything huge happening around him, but he knew something was going on. something in the apartment.

you looked at the apartment, squinting when you saw tara and her friends laughing over god knows what. turning back to the hero, you swallowed your pride down for once and forced out a, "take me to where you think it's happening."

a beat. he was studying your face, trying to see if you were serious, if you were actually willing to help him despite your interrupted argument. wordlessly, he put his hand around your waist and pulled you to him, throwing a web towards tara and sam's apartment.

a scream left mindy's lips when she ran into the bathroom, finding the body of one of quinn's hook-ups in the tub, stabbed repeatedly with his blood splattered all around him. "oh, fuck, that guy's dead!" mindy cried out, gripping her sliced arm tightly before she turned back to the bathroom entrance, screaming at the sight of the murderer right at the door.

they took a step towards her, knife glinting in their hand before you kicked him in the stomach, kicking him against the wall. your clawed hand came down to scratch his chest, your brows furrowing when your hand met a bulletproof vest rather than skin. the murderer swung his knife at you, only slicing the base of your neck as you quickly dodged. you punched their face and kicked them back further against the wall, using one of your knives to stab their chest, only praying it made it past their bulletproof vest. you then ran into the bathroom and shut the door behind you.

"who the fuck are you?!" mindy screamed, taking in your get up and mask, eyes widening in recognition. "you're that criminal—"

"stop talking and get into the room! take this," you put one of your throwing knives in her hand and turned to sam, who was pulling mindy into the bedroom and sending you a confused look. shoving them both into the bathroom, you helped them barricade the door before the killer came close, your back against the door as you kept the dresser against it.

"who is this?!" anika yelled, practically spilling her guts all over the bed.

"maybe don't ask questions while your intestines are threatening to come out!" you yelled, still holding the door shut.

"say something more positive!" anika screamed in response, mindy coming next to her to apply more pressure to her huge wound.

you looked at sam, who was yelling at the neighbor across the alleyway, before she looked up, her face laced with even more confusion. "about time!" she yelled at the hero, who crawled down the wall as he threw a web at the roof's ledge and held onto the other end of it.

"we're gonna get you across!" spider-man said reassuringly, offering a hand out for sam, who immediately took it. he pulled her close as he brought her across and into the other window into the arms of the neighbor before he went to the other window again, peeking in. "oh, hey!" he said lightly, trying not to show his panic.

"hi. can you help?!" mindy asked harshly, helping anika stand up and bringing her to the hero.

"oh, you don't look great!" he shot some webbing into his hand and places anika's hand more into her wound before wrapping her hand and her wound, keeping the pressure. "keep pressing down," he said, carefully putting his arm around her to bring her to the other side. "you doing okay there, kitty?" he asked behind his shoulder at you, making you groan in frustration.

"just fantastic!"

"okay, good!" with that, he swung out the window, anika screaming in her wake. he brought her to the neighbor's window, carefully putting her down before he went back for mindy.

the door behind you suddenly lurched forward, as though the killer had gained twice the strength than they originally had. the sudden strength pushed you far enough away from the door for it to open, the killer quick as they shoved it wider. you hand flew to your gun, ready to shoot despite the vest you knew they were wearing. behind you, mindy was already being brought to the other window, leaving you alone with the killer, who tilted their head at you. they took the knife you had stabbed into them and threw it back at you, making you dodge it quickly, shooting a shot at their leg.

they didn't fall. instead, they swung at you, cutting your side as you moved back. you groaned at the sudden pain, hand coming down to hold it tightly as warm liquid began to seep through your fingers. they managed to cut in the one area that wasn't protected by some of your armor. and while it was only a slice, they cut deep. they were angry; it was evident in their sudden frantic movements. they wanted you dead.

they lunged at you, making you move away from the window and shoot at them again, your shots to their chest doing nothing. "i fucking hate this," you grumbled, putting your gun back into your side before you unsheathed your claws and swung at his dominant arm, scratching it and hearing them groan in pain.

the sound was muffled, but they sounded like a man.

you kicked them, trying to kick them out of the window, only for them to grab the windows edges and lunge at you again, making you move swiftly out of the way and making them hit the dresser harshly.

a thwip sent a web towards their hand, and another sent one to their leg, sticking them there. spider-man swung in next to you, taking in the cut on your neck and the blood dripping from your hand. "you have to get out of here," he stated, grabbing your hand and lifting it to use a web to bandage your wound quickly.

"i'll be fine," you seethed, ignoring the pain, "remove his mask, we need to catch him."

"you're not going to be fine, i'm getting you out of here," his hands came down around your waist despite your protests, your want to remove the killers mask strong as you tried to wriggle your way out. "stop being so fucking stubborn and let me help you!" the hero snapped, already throwing a web out the window and pulling the both of you away from the apartment.

he laid you down on the rooftop of the building, giving you a quick once over before he went back to the apartment, leaving you alone. you hated to admit it, but the amount of blood you were losing from both your wounds was making you dizzy.

spider-man landed back inside the apartment, letting out a groan of frustration at the sight of the cut webs and the lack of a killer. turning to the neighbor's apartment, he swung over, landing in their kitchen casually. "help is on the way. in the meantime stay in here," he looked at all of them strewn throughout the apartment, all sporting some type of wound. the eyes of his mask narrowed when he noticed a few people were missing. tara and chad were gone, but most importantly, quinn was gone too. "was anyone left behind?" he asked sam, trying to keep a relatively calm front.

"tara and chad were locked out, and our roommate, quinn.." sam swallowed thickly, her eyes fogged over as she tried not to think too hard about it.

from beneath the mask, ethan's eyes began to blur over with tears out of worry, the lack of response making him want to shake sam and demand answers. demand where his sister is, cry out that they should've done more, that it was him under the mask, that he needed to know if she made it. "did," he exhaled shakily, makiing sam look at him in interest, "did she die?"

"she didn't make it," sam said with a heavy exhale. "ghostface got to her before we could stop them."

ethan's jaw clenched as his eyes began to well up with more tears that he couldn't wipe away. it felt like sensory overload; he could hear anika's labored breathing and mindy's reassurance from the living room, smell the smell of pennies from everyone's blood, feel every fiber of his suit sticking to his skin. he was suddenly aware of how small the apartment felt, how the ceiling seemed to come closer and closer to his head and how the walls seemed too reachable.

he had to get out.

"thank you. and tell your friend thank you too," sam said, breaking his cloud of sadness briefly.

his friend. you were still up there, bleeding all over the roof.

"i have to go. i'm.. i'm sorry about your roommate." he turned to the others in a silent farewell, before turning back to sam. "we'll be doing patrols around your guys' apartment." and with that, he swung out the window and back to you, pulling his mask over half his face to try and regain his breath.

"he was gone, wasn't he?" you asked, your voice monotone as you sat with your hand over your wound. you looked at him, your eyes unreadable as you took in how stressed he looked. he was drinking in air as though he had been drowning, and if you looked closely, you saw tearstains on his cheeks. his head had fallen back and his face was tilted up to the sky, his chest heaving as he tried to calm himself. rather than question it, you knew it wasn't your place.

ethan, while he wanted to desperately to cry and scream for the death of his sister, only tried to calm himself. he could feel anger thrumming through his veins, and most of all, he felt that same pain he felt when richie died. as though a part of him had died too.

he realized then that the panic he had felt from his senses was most likely the feeling of his older sister dying in the arms of a killer. he felt her attack.

"he was." the hero answered, taking in one more deep breath and exhaling slowly. he turned to you and moved to help you stand up. instinctively, his arm cam around your waist, allowing you to use him like a crutch. "we have to get you help," he murmured, turning towards the direction of the hospital.

"you and i both know that we can't go to the hospital," you muttered, looking at him. his mask was still pulled over half of his face, leaving the upper half of his face a mystery to you. but you could see the lower half, and you stopped the urge to roll your eyes at your conclusion.

of course, new york's spider-man was a pretty boy.

"fine, then. we're going to your place."

yeah, he was pretty. pretty stupid.

"are you serious?" you managed a laugh that quickly died due to the pain that shot up your chest. "no. why can't we go to your place?"

"because my roommate has a room right next to me and the walls are so thin that he can hear everything i do," he responded dryly, looking down at you. "you don't have to remove your mask. i won't do it either, and.. you can put away any photos you have in your apartment. deal?"

you stared at him, weighing the other options in your head before groaning. "fine," you grumbled in annoyance, "but i better not see you making any friendly visits any time soon. i'm not the hospitable type."

"'m not gonna make any visits, kitty. promise."

spider-man pushed your window open, helping you enter before he closed it shut behind you both. the sound of your two cats, bitters and junie, welcomed you home as per usual, their meows relaxing you as you managed a small smile their way. surprisingly enough, they rubbed themselves on the hero's leg as they made their way towards you.

"very on brand of you to be a cat lady," he hummed, making you send him a look as you reached down to pet them briefly. "am i wrong? you're black cat and you have black cat. and a white one. for all i know you could have more in here."

"do you want to meet my cats or help me stop losing blood?" you asked snarkily, making him turn to you, the eyes of his mask widening.

"oh, right. you're hurt."

"thanks for your concern," you responded dryly, feeling him fix his arm around your waist. "bathroom's down that hall to the left."

your weight seemed like nothing to him as he led you to your bathroom, sitting you down on your closed toilet. he threw open your cupboards, searching for your first aid and finding it. he managed a small triumphant smile as he took it out, closing the cupboard and sitting to your right.

"you know what you're doing, right?" you asked warily, staring at him as he brought out your suture kit. "scandalous," you couldn't help but comment as he pulled his gloves off, making him send you a look.

"stop staring at my hands."

"i'm staring at the needle you're going to stab me repeatedly with, not your hands," you stated, rolling your eyes. "your hands are nice too though, spider." you chuckled at his frustrated sigh, eyes on him as he stood up to wash his hands. "you didn't answer my question."

rushing water filled your ears as he washed his hands diligently. he seemed to be thinking about whether or not he should answer your question, but honestly, you were just trying to make the whole situation less awkward. you couldn't care less whether he had done it before or not; what mattered was that he could suture up your wound.

"i think it was the fifth time i was in a fight?" he began, eyes set on his hands as he dried them off on a nearby towel. "i was still.. new to all of this, i guess. caught this gang ready to beat this poor kid up— he was like, 13 at the most, and they were trying to get back at his older brother. 'course i had to help him." he moved back to your side, sitting down comfortably and taking the suture kit. "i was able to get most of 'em out of the way. but one snuck up on me. my senses made me get out of the way on time, but i got this huge cut on my stomach. another one on my side from his buddy." he carefully cut the webs on your side, looking up at you for permission. "i'm gonna have to cut your suit. may i?"

you nodded quickly. "i have more, just.. keep talking."

"right." he cut the rest of the webbing, including the cloth of your suit, reveling the entirety of your wound. "i spent that night suturing up my own cut with a needle and thread. i can heal pretty quickly but if i were to just bleed everywhere my roommate would notice." he then took a cloth and rubbing alcohol and gently cleaned around your cut. "hurt like a bitch, though."

"well, duh." you watched him pull out all the thread and take the forceps to bring the needle out. he brought it closer to your skin, and you took deep breaths.

"ready?"

"just get it over with." you groaned in pain when the needle entered your skin, the thread pulling through quickly after it. the pain was horrible, but soon enough he was tying the knot and beginning the next one. you were biting down harshly on your lip, trying not to cry out from the pain as you felt the next one enter. your mind was so focused on the needle continuously entering your skin that you didn't even hear spider-man talk to you.

"your apartment is nice," he said softly, only glancing up at you before he focused back on the task at hand. "you must be loaded from all the stealing 'n stuff."

his hands were a bit rough, most likely from training and from superhero duties. but the way he touched you, regardless of how harsh your personality was; it was as though he was scared he'd break you. as though he was watching his strength as he poked the needle through your skin and pulled, careful not to hurt you as much as he already was.

he didn't know why he was being so gentle, why he was watching how he was touching you. maybe he felt guilty for allowing you to be the one to go into the apartment. maybe he wanted to make up for the wounds he felt like he indirectly caused you. ethan didn't know.

"yeah," you forced out through gritted teeth, trying to steady your breathing. he was trying to distract you, trying to keep you talking about whatever he was asking you rather than having you focus solely on the thread moving through your skin.

but unbeknownst to you, ethan was asking you questions not only to distract you, but to distract himself as well. he was still reeling from the death of his sister, but he had compartmentalized it all before he had given himself the chance to fully cope. he hadn't fully cried yet, nor had he given himself time to grieve. he didn't know when he could; it felt like he had no time to grieve for her. "the day we first met, after i caught you—"

"you didn't catch me."

"after i almost caught you while you ran away from the museum," another stab, another stab, another knot. "why did you bring that painting back there? like," his lips twitched downwards, "you didn't even steal anything from the museum, which is weird considering you're a thief and probably a klepto who would love to have a collection of paintings in her really nice apartment—"

"i put it back where it came from." you avoided his gaze as you focused on the bathroom floor as though it was the most interesting thing in the world. "the rich people i stole it from hired some random criminals to steal it first," you explained, "so i just put it back. they don't deserve to keep that piece of art to themselves when the painter made it for everyone to enjoy."

he looked up at you after he finished tying another knot, taking in your features. how you seemed a million miles away despite being right in front of him, and how you had just admitted that one of your crimes had more meaning behind it than just a simple burglary. and you looked.. almost embarrassed to say it. as though you had never admitted it out loud before.

"the people you steal from are usually well off."

you turned your head to look at him, and this time it was his turn to focus on something else. his eyes were set on his stitches. "old money, new money, just people who are incredibly wealthy."

"have you been studying me, spider?" you asked teasingly, making his cheeks (or what you could see of it) burn red.

"no. i mean—" he stammered, groaning when he heard you chuckle softly. "i had to! i mean, i've been trying to keep track of the usual criminals in the city and you were obviously on that list so.. yeah!"

"so you were studying me." you tilted your head with a teasing smile.

"okay! you're done." he put a bandage around the suture to finish it off, throwing away the used needle and thread. he began to clean up quickly, shoving the suture kit into the first aid box. but as his eyes looked back at you, he paused his embarrassed antics. he stared as you stood up, ready to change your clothes, before he stopped you. "wait."

you looked at him in confusion as he took out a bandage and ran a cloth under water. he moved closer to you, and you saw him visibly gulp from where his mask was pulled up. "your neck," he murmured, and you raised a brow, but for once stayed quiet. the warm cloth met the base of your neck, rubbing away the dried blood from the cut that you forget was even there. water dripped down your skin and melted into your suit, but you were too preoccupied with looking at how his tongue poked at his cheek when he was focused.

he wiped away the rest of the blood and used a dry towel to pat it down dry before taking the bandage. his fingernails grazed your skin ever so lightly as he placed the bandage over your cut, his adam's apple bobbing when he saw your eyes set on his face through his peripherals. he could smell your lavender perfume from where he stood, pressing the bandage down into your skin, warming the skin with the heat of his palm. "done," he breathed, eyes looking back at you.

and suddenly, his hands fell at his sides as he focused on cleaning up again.

"what was that?" you couldn't help but ask, but he only shrugged in response.

"don't think about me too much, kitty."

"i should say the same to you," you said blankly, brows furrowing as you watched him clean up as though he hadn't just helped you patch up all your injuries.

you moved past him, making your way into your room and shutting the door behind you. you hid the photo of you and your father under some papers before unzipping your suit and pulling it off of you. the fabric moved over your wound, but you were careful enough that it add onto the pain. you put on a shirt and some shorts before walking out to your living room.

you bit back a comment when you saw the hero sitting criss-crossed on your living room floor with bitters on his lap and your white cat, junie, nudging herself under his hand as she purred. a genuine smile was on his face; he had a habit of pulling his lip under his teeth when he smiled.

"how're you feeling? you asked nonchalantly, making him look up towards you. you felt his eyes on you as you took out two glasses and poured water into both.

"fine, i guess."

"stop lying," you said over your shoulder, taking the two glasses and walking towards him. you held one glass out to him, looking at him pointedly. "i saw you after you went to check on them. something happened."

you were onto him. that was all ethan thought as he took the glass of water from your hand and looked down at your cats. your eyes were practically burning into his head as you waited for him to answer. you thought it was right; you gave him truth, now he should give you some in return. hell, you let him into your home.

taking a deep breath, he calmed down his rapidly beating heart. "i knew one of them, and they didn't make it. that's all." you could see him bite down on his lip as though he was stopping it from quivering, his eyes dead set on your cats despite your eye contact.

you didn't say anything for a minute, letting him relish in the quiet before you began talking again. "we'll find out who attacked them." no 'i'm sorry.' no condolences, because you were someone who hated hearing it from others. especially when your father died; mafia groups sent their condolences, sent their 'i'm sorrys' to the door of your past house as though they hadn't wanted him dead for years. you didn't like hearing it and your didn't like saying it.

the hero nodded, his brows coming down to furrow together. "we will." he stated. you had made a deal with him the night before, but that didn't truly feel like a deal. this one did; it walked a thin line between a deal and a promise.

ACT III, ACT IV, ACT V, EPILOGUE

#AUTHOR'S NOTE— i know i literally posted yesterday but i'm excited about this series so here! thank you so much for reading xx

#TAGLIST— @ethanlvndry , @iloveneilperry , @starsfilm , @goosenoggin , @aminatic , @wenvierismycomfort , @l5byrinth , @wroetoslut , @briefwinnerpersonaturtle , @oliviapopewannabe , @wzrlds , @raggedyoldwitch

[anincompletelist]

rwrb fic recs! :D

I wanted to take the time to compile a few fics that have massively helped me over the last tough few months and never fail to bring a smile to my face (after the angst, of course)! thank you to everyone who takes the time to write for this lovely fandom, please keep it up! your words are so important and often change lives even when you don't realize it. I hope you're all doing well, and enjoy! <3

(please message me if for any reason you would like to be un-tagged!)

in no particular order:

he looks up grinning like the devil | @coffeecatsme | E | 38k

Henry can’t help it—he lets out a laugh and shakes his head. Beta Sigma Chi being a safe space is about as likely as the Republicans championing queer rights. “Right, and who’s this new president that somehow managed to turn around an entire fraternity?”

Pez winces. She hesitates at first, but then she must decide on something because her chin juts out. “Well,” she says slowly. “It’s Alexander Claremont-Diaz.”

Henry laughs so hard he almost falls off his seat.

Or, Henry Fox learns to fall in love with everything that is Alexander Claremont-Diaz, even if he insists on calling Henry "dude".

--

A Sporting Chance | @clottedcreamfudge | E | 126k

"Marry Henry - destination wedding. Combine all of our names so paperwork is a fucking nightmare." Henry stares at him and Pez rolls the dice, and-

"Congratulations to Alex and Henry Claremont-Diaz-Fox-Mountchristen," he says with a bright grin, and Alex punches the air and makes a 'whooping' noise. "Your wedding is attended by the Beckhams, the President, and several key members of congress. Henry is very gentle on your wedding night." Henry is going to fucking kill Pez.   "Fucking sweet," Alex says, because Henry is apparently the only one here trying not to have a coronary about all of this.

***

It had just been a party game, except now Henry is in way over his head.

--

a degree of fate | (locked) | lockedinmybody | E | 34k

Against the wishes of the palace, Henry decides to go back to university for a graduate's degree in Literature. And when you want to lay low, what's a better place than Austin University? It's not Henry's fault that Alex Claremont-Diaz is also there. Something must be his fault though, because despite having never met before and Henry only knowing him as the son of the Former President of America, Alex Claremont-Diaz clearly hates him. It's going to be a long two years.

--

the poem you make of me | @omgcmere | E | 91k

After being discovered on Instagram as a teenager, Alex Diaz is thriving as a social media influencer and model who just landed a high profile, high fashion contract with Calvin Klein. Alex can get any girl he wants, and he’s loving it. Meanwhile, British poet Henry Fox has just arrived in L.A. to kick off a North American tour promoting his new, steamy book of gay erotic poetry, and he’s attracting a lot of attention.

Bad blood is immediately sparked between them when Henry blows Alex off at their first meeting. Several tabloid rumors and an Instagram tantrum later, Alex and Henry are reluctantly thrust together to make nice, resulting in a grudging friendship and a magnetism between them that Alex can't explain. Why is Henry's poetry making Alex feel like this? And just what is it about Henry Fox that gets to him so much?

--

Mr. BodyPillow | @inexplicablymine | T+ | 21k

Two boys cuddling on a couch right on top of each other because they are in fact very gay™.

Inviting over a complete stranger for cuddles because you are touch starved might be the worst idea Henry has ever had, or the best.

--

More Amour | surveycorpsjean | E | 45k

Alex discovers something in Henry's closet that changes everything.

--

we've been here forever (here's the frozen proof) | @onward--upward | T+ | 12k

Objectively, I am aware that you – a stranger – cannot tell me my own sexuality any better than I can, however... Can you, please? Tell me? It’s 4am and I have been thinking about this for hours, and I can’t sleep.

Warmest regards, ACD *** It’s four in the morning, and Alex Claremont-Diaz has managed to follow a research spiral straight down into a personal crisis. It isn’t the first time.

--

Oblivion | milowren | NR | 31k | please CHECK TAGS & NOTES prior to reading!

What if the moment in the hospital wasn’t a false alarm and the publicity surrounding the forced bromance between Alex and Henry had the adverse effect of them being kidnapped together?

--

But I love him, whether or no. | @leaves-of-laurelin | E | 77k

Henry moves to New York City to help Pez with the opening of his new bar in the East Village. The location—fortunately for business, but unfortunately for Henry’s sanity—is directly across the street from a fire station. The sound of sirens is bad, Alex the gorgeous firefighter is worse. But when Alex helps Henry avoid a near catastrophe the night of the bar’s opening, the two form a tentative friendship that starts to develop into something more.

--

we might just get away with it | (locked) | smc_27 | E | 21k

Alex is a model. Henry is a journalist, and a bit of an asshole. Alex wants him anyway, even when it doesn’t feel good.

--

Hashtag Soulmates | @everwitch-magiks | E | 44k

Alex is perfect and handsome, the golden boy, everybody’s secret crush. So there is absolutely no way that he is the reader who screeches in caps lock every time that Henry posts as much as a drabble. There’s no way. Except Alex just closed his browser fast as fucking lightning, but not before Henry had gotten a good glimpse of the page Alex had open: AO3. ‘Don't Stop Me Now’, Henry’s current wip. The one that Henry literally just updated.

Sweet Jesus. Could it really be?

--

the rubble or our sins | weather_stained | E | 14k

As the Emperor's grandson, Henry despises the gladiator games and resents being forced to attend them — that is, until he sees Alexander fight. 

It's a romance doomed from the very beginning, as Henry's family is already pressuring him into joining the army and finding a wife, but he falls hard for Alex nonetheless. Will Henry find a way to be with him, or will he spend the rest of his life looking back on their time together?

--

that's all for now! I'd like to do this again very soon since there are so many new fics being posted that deserve love as well.

please let me know if there are any issues with the links, if you'd like to be un-tagged, or if you'd like to come and scream about these with me!

another good place for recs is @rwrbficrecs !

if you enjoy any of these (or any fic at all) please know - as someone who writes them as well - every single comment and kudos goes such a long way. it's not necessary, but it's always so much appreciated. <3

thank you for reading, and I hope everyone is having a lovely day/night! :D

-- anincompletelist / sarah

[misterbitches]

I have mixed feelings about the episode!

If I hadn’t have gone online I would have been more of a blank slate. It’s good to know my criticisms are affirmed by others but it doesn’t mean this show is weak because even with the faults this episode was still entertaining at the very least. I feel crazy! Like some of my issues with the social commentary so far are dealt with—not remediated per se but addressed—or tended to.

The whole marriage thing isn’t a bad scenario typical of a BL imo because it makes sense. Patriarchy has everything to do with the hoarding of wealth. You have to make sure a woman has limited options for offspring to preserve a familial/blood line. Marriage is a business practice (it isn’t final or static but marriage and love are not interchangeable and “love” is a very specific goal that is hard to meet particularly if you are poor) and even if Rosé doesn’t want it, that’s how you secure capital…via legacy and literal financial bonds (presented as familial).

Rosé isn’t a good person. As much as Save is a bitch and Hope is…whatever he is (and agree with the user that said they should have kissed there!) the show is telling us over and over that THESE PEOPLE ARE POOR GUYS. THEY HAVE NO MONEY. I don’t know if the audience understands what that means fully. That means that Tattoo’s actions are not the same as Arun’s or even Joke’s; Jack’s poor decisions aren’t the same as Joke’s; Save is being absolutely insane and fucking ridiculous and wow I hate him but even his decision is not the same. You see how much hospital bills are, not having insurance, INSURANCE LITERALLY BEING TIED TO YOUR JOB AND THE NUCLEAR FAMILY. Things these people do not have, nor should not have to have, and the pains you go through to do everything right so the state says and you still get fucked.

That’s why the whole ~dOn’T sTEaL~ would piss me the fuck off! Jenny’s character makes complete sense! I know this is an easy way for us to express this idea of never being able to “get out” but poverty isn’t actually a cycle. Poverty is man made, it is not real. A cycle suggest something inevitable where an underclass would always have to exist, some sociogenetic defect that you just can’t beat and the cure (money) is just too hard to find (as in made up but never freely given). What makes that cycle relevant? Capitalism. This term has bred such reification i swear. It makes it seem like this is something they can GET OUT OF and BREAK on their own volition (with no direct action against the capitalist class/elites like you know…robbing them)

To be wealthy is to inhibit a class position, a social category, in which your livelihood depends on the subjugation of others. It’s obvious that Boss has limited money—and that dwindles—he relies on his boss. He is a manager, an inbetween, a boss but not The Boss. He is a cop essentially (cops have more autonomy tbh) to literally protect private property and collect and give to his bosses. They’re also all landlords and deserve to die.

Anyway there is no cycle as a real tangible thing one can take control of. There are people who choose their comfort and life over others and exploit to maintain, retain, and gain. ANY type of wealth hoarding is immoral. Richness is immoral.

Every single one of these people who suffer are in this position because of rich people. The monopoly was literal and exaggerated metaphor but rich people HATE and i mean HATE they LOATHE they resent disdain the poor. They hate you. They hate me and I’m not even poor! It is not a (referent-less) cycle! These are deliberate choices being made by others to make sure ppl stay poor—women, children queer ppl, darker ppl, the disabled…

If we focused less on the actions of those who have had to work in service of the pillagers and more on the pillagers and why the FUCK these people do this and get to do it, maybe Jack’s choices would make sense. Yes they are frustrating but I don’t necessarily think this is bad writing considering that Jack’s life could be made a living hell if he “got another job” which…ok but where? Who will hire him? How quickly will he make that money? With what skills when he has one very good one that could be used AND this money could be made immediately?

Are these particular choices stupid or do they exist in a broader story that is unfolding? Obviously this is a tv show beyond bl bc this episode was like completely story related and I enjoyed that. There was def some stuff where i was like wow this seems a bit rushed and it does seem like filler but it also technically isn’t…? If I’m thinking beyond what I would like to see with romance. If I think of it as more of s general show that is openly queer but that’s just the life of the show…then was this an outlier or does it fit? Even if it doesn’t I still get to understand more of what they think abt the world…? Idk i liked this episode i go back and forth! But it was a good way to spend my hour.

Also rose’s plan is fucking disgusting neoliberal drivel and insulting lmao when joke threw that all i could think of was bush and that shoe

[proxylynn]

Jacob do not have a lore and background story? :(

[Oh yeah he do. You just have to know where to look...which is always at my place. *does some digging* Ah, here we go.]

You’re settling down in a suburban town in Texas, starting a new life for yourself. Lately, your mail has been getting sent to the wrong house and keeps ending up at your neighbor’s front door. Or at least, that’s what he told you.

Your polite neighbor Jacob has been returning your mail quite often lately. It’s almost like he wants to talk to you more...

Name: Jacob Alden

Age: Late 20s-Early 30s

Killer Type: Stalker, serial killer, yandere-esque

Hobbies: Collecting vintage things (mainly technology of that time), using old cameras and video tapes, watching movies (especially obscure films and B horror films), fishing, raising freshwater fish as pets, collecting things from his crush, stalking them, doing vulgar things with his crush’s objects and pictures…

Occupation: Stocker (haha it’s almost like a pun…a stalker whose a stocker…)

General Demeanor: Comes off as quiet and introverted, lacks some social cues, somewhat cynical and bitter, the “weird awkward grumpy guy no one really wants to talk to at work”

Demeanor around crush: VERY clingy and a complete 180 from his typical self, very talkative towards them and gives them his full attention, will shower them in affection to an uncomfortable degree.

 Although he acts as if “This is what you want! This is what you need from me!” a lot of the things he does to his victim is more out of his own self-indulgence that he’s unaware of. He’ll still do SOME things his victim would ask for so he can spoil them (he can buy you things, if the trust is strong he may loosen your restraints so they hurt you less) but things like “Could you let me go?” are a huge no, and the more you complain, the more he gets closer to snapping.

“YOU UNGRATEFUL BITCH! LOOK AT HOW MUCH I’VE DONE FOR YOU! CAN’T YOU SEE HOW MUCH I FUCKING CARE ABOUT YOU??? …No….I should have known, you’re not the one for me…you don’t deserve this…you don’t deserve ME. YOU DON’T DESERVE MY LOVE. MY AFFECTION. MY PRAISE. YOU WASTED MY DAMN TIME!!!”

Yeah, a lot of his feelings are all in his head. If he thinks his crush isn’t “thankful” enough (or at all), he sees it as their fault rather than his own doing. Kidnapping someone against their will and doing bad things to them…Jacob believes what he’s doing is fine because “No no, they DO love me! Our hands touched when they handed me my money…a-and then we saw each other again at the park nearby! Well, they didn’t actually see me, but they were just playing hard-to-get! They DO love me, I just know it! We have a connection you wouldn’t understand, they are my SOUL MATE!”

[stitched-mouth]

Madame Web Production BS

Just to be clear, I love this movie. But I love talking about what a dumpster fire it was behind the scenes so let me point everything wrong with my favourite of the year so far. SPOILERS!

• Cass’s personality is not fleshed out… that’s a major problem. I feel like they just told Dakota Johnson to do what she wants the whole movie BUT then right at they end they decide to give Cass a personality completely ripped from the comics. And it doesn’t work with the way Dakota was playing her the whole movie and these no character development over the course of the movie, so it’s actually a little scary seeing her switch at the end.

• None of the characters have a personality actually. The villain was the worst to be fair because I still don’t really understand his motives. Like… you tricked and murdered a pregnant woman and a few others because your family was poor? And you think Spidey strength will fix that? Um, ok. So is mine but I don’t know.. wouldn’t kill anybody over it though.

• I hate Sydney Sweeney’s image. And it’s not her or her marketing teams fault. It’s her fans’ and her directors. She’s constantly purposely dressed sexy in movies (even when dressed down like a nerd, she’s still sexualised) but then is playing a child. Like wtf. They did it to her in Euphoria and they’ve done it to her again in Madame Web. And how Sydney dresses for press also is clearly influenced by directors and fans’, like the look isn’t just what they want for her characters but also how she’s expected to be irl too. It’s kind of sick and related to how paedophilic things are still normalised in our society today, I’ll have to say that rant for another day though.

• Why does it feel like nobody cared about this movie? The script feels like the first draft that was supposed to have rewrites but nobody was bothered. Same with the editing, everything but especially the dialogue and music feels so placeholder, why was it in the finished project? Like even the Google cast page is not finished, only the leads have their character names on there. Zosia Mament (the villain’s assistant) is credited as fucking ‘Actress’.

• Why was Cassie able to fly to Peru when she’s a wanted criminal? Why is she flying to Peru when talking about laying low because she’s a WANTED CRIMINAL??!

• The writers constantly forgetting what year it is was hilarious and the editors just throwing one Brittney Spears song in and a few Beyonce billboards in to cover up their mistake is also hilarious.

• ACTUALLY, apparently the whole reason the movie was set in 2003 was because the director really wanted to use Toxic in the movie. Because apparently you can’t play a song in a movie if the movie doesn’t take place in the same year the song was released 🤡

• BUT Toxic was released in 2004 🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡

• The writers taking the time setting as a opportunity to reference Garfield’s Spider-Man but then also forgetting that that SM was born in 1995 🤡🤡🤡🤡

• Yes I checked, they specifically wanted to reference Garfield’s Spidey, but through editing they realised their mistake and started trying to make it look like they were talking about Tom Holland’s SM instead, which risks breaking some rules with Marvel… AND THAT SPIDEY WAS BORN IN 2001 SO THEY STILL FUCKED UP. The fact that a simple Google and common sense (like they must of know Garfield’s fist SM movie took place in 2012 and if he was born in 2003, he would of been only 9 years old in 2012 😑) would of fixed this problem is again hilarious.

• Obviously the biggest goof was Dakota Johnson not realising she’s not in a Marvel movie and firing her agent the same day the trailer got dropped 🤡

• She also might be in trouble for posting the teaser on her Instagram and tagging Marvel before the trailer dropped (so before she found out), but I don’t think Dakota manages her own socials tbh. That post was removed then put back up without a Marvel tag.

• The press tour is amazingly bad, I love it.

• Not seeing the girls turn or become heroes was probably the worst part about this movie but I knew that going in so didn’t mind too much. But the real issue is with how Sony keeps straight up lying to their audience with their trailers. Obviously some studios add somethings into their trailer to create more interest for the audience but that’s not what Sony is doing, they are straight up LYING. And they do it so often now I want to fight whoever is in charge of that, they are the reason this movie flopped.

• Them and the writers… and whoever decided to hire the Morbius writers again, everyone there deserves to lose their jobs.

• The only reason I want this movie to do well is because I want Madame Web to have more movies with Dakota Johnson, Sydney Sweeney, Adam Scott, Isabella Mercer, Emma Roberts and Celeste O’Connor all returning. But I really don’t see that happening now, I can’t see Dakota signing another contract with Sony or doing everything to get out of this contract if it’s not over yet.

• The fact that they had to dub the villain’s lines makes me so confused to why he was hired? He didn’t even give a good performance, not saying he’s a bad actor (I’ve heard he’s great on other movies), but he really didn’t do anything in MW.

• And the part with the FBI agent and the villain had me so confused too. Like, did she seduce him to find out information about him? Because it makes sense that the FBI would be suspicious of this guy. But then did he see through her act and decide to at least get laid before killing her and stealing her passcode? But everyone is saying he seduce her for her passcodes and yeah I’m confused.

• The problem is the pacing and how everything that needs explaining isn’t, but everything that doesn’t need an explanation IS explained. And too much.

“He worked with my Mom in this place looking for this spider right before she died”

That’s not the exact quote but it’s pretty close to and that’s less than 5 minutes in. Ok thanks spoiling the whole movie to me. I really didn’t know a movie could spoil the movie to me.

• I’ll add more to this post when I remember more bs this movie endured or forced me to endure, feel free to add to this list in the comments or reposts.

[silversodas]

There Is A Song That Vox and Val Remind Me Of

Lose Control by Teddy Swims.

So starting with Val’s temper tantrum and what Velvette said about waiting for Vox to calm him down. I thought that was…odd, especially for a grown ass man. When he gets to the suit where Val is fuming is where the song part comes in

“Feels like the walls are all closing in, and the Devils knocking at my door”

The Red smoke is the social poison that Val carried around in life that manifested itself as a literal poison in death. He is sitting and stewing in his own poison and wants relief given by Vox

“Outta my mind, how many times, did I tell you I am no good at being alone? Yea It’s taken a toll on me, trying my best to keep from tearing the skin off my bones”

FUCKING FINALLY!!

I thought that was just to show how dramatic of a bitch Val was (and he is) but think it’s to show he suffers from his own bullshit, his own poison, and Vox is what gives him relief

“I am falling apart right in front of you can’t you see!!”

Val was more or less trapped in his own bullshit cloud and making it everyone else’s problem, and it’s only when he vents it to Vox that he is starting to noticeably get better. And honestly I feel pretty bad for Vox here, because we kinda know now that they are dating, and Val is venting about some other fucking dude that he obsesses over. I mean I totally get why he doesn’t seem to like Angel now. (Even though Val is the one at fault) What’s interesting though is he doesn’t enable Val like a lot of piss babies like Val go to their S.Os for

(I borrowed some of these images from a video called Vox being a mood and that’s why only some images have texts on them)

I love that Vox’s old time tv voice sounds more distorted and demonic the angrier he gets, he could be as creepy as Alastor if he wanted to be

“I lose control when your not next to me”

What do you think chasing whores around town will do for our image?

Uh..fuck it up?

RIGHT!!

Feels like you could have come to that conclusion yourself there Val. I mean yeah maybe he is just stupid, but it feels like Vox is 100% of Val’s impulse control, he keeps Val from losing control, not only that, he seems to help Val think more clearly and without so much poisonous emotion

I really wanted to shoot someone

Well, let me send up the lowest earners this month

At this point Val sounds completely snapped out of it, and doesn’t sound angry anymore. And Vox, while he doesn’t enable Val, he does coddle him and that’s not any better, if anything it just encourages Val to act like this when something is wrong and Vox will come and fix it.

It seems that Vox has not set boundaries with Val that he can’t act like that to get his attention and that if he needs him when he is distressed then he needs to talk to him, not kill employees and destroy work property. And because he coddles Val’s behavior it keeps happening and Vox resents him for it

And to make things worse, Val does the opposite for Vox, he spreads his poison and encourages Vox’s impulses and bad emotions

(Seriously! I looooovvvee how creepy his tv voice can sound, hmm maybe it’s just another way he and Alastor are alike. Also his voice actor did such a good job with the delivery of this line! It’s so unsettling)

You can see the poison taking effect when it’s coming out of the side of his mouth

Teddy Swims said he wrote the song based off of toxic relationships and how addictive they can sometimes be. And I need to see more of their relationship, but I definitely think that’s the case with these two

[theevenusianwitch]

i have been particularly absent from this blog and all of my socials for the past month because i’m positive i’m going to die at the hands of medical racism and malpractice as well as gaslighting from family. i fell pregnant unexpectedly which on one part is my fault but the complications i’m facing this early on are killing me. i’m 6 weeks and a few days and this is not regular morning sickness like i’ve heard of. yes morning sickness has varying degrees of severity. but i have been unable to hold food or liquids down for almost two weeks without immediately regurgitating them. i threw up stomach acid and bile multiple times during the day and night. i’ve lost almost twenty pounds. i’ve been to multiple hospitals in my area. the doctors have just laughed in my face and told me to go home basically. to rest and try to eat crackers. but honestly, what the fuck are saltines going to do for me when i can’t even stomach them?

i live in the southern united states. abortion is completely banned in my state. i have preexisting health conditions that are making this harder on me physically, mentally, spiritually, and emotionally. i was already pro choice/pro abortion. getting one is a last resort but i have never felt so ashamed and alone by almost everyone around me for wanting to preserve my own life over the parasite living in me currently. i almost relapsed last night wanting to feel something other than the lump in my throat and the dizziness i feel when i stand up.

to anyone who supported overturning roe v. wade, fuck you. as a black femme person, i have enough on my plate daily. this overturn is killing black and brown people disproportionately and you do not care. you do not give a singular fuck about people who aren’t cisgender, rich, straight, male, and white. this is not about me not wanting to be a parent. this is about my health, my life. how do you expect me to bring life into this fucked up world when it’s taking mine away?

the past year i have lost so much, but i’d rather live with the grief of an abortion than let another child be in the hands of the system. i’d rather live with myself and that decision than die at the hands of medical racism. i’d rather go through obstacles to take matters into my own hands, than die. and i could die from that as well. this isn’t about responsibility issues.

and to use religion to enforce this upon people, fuck you. if you abide by the bible, wonderful. that’s the religion and doctrine you chose to follow, not me. that religion’s done more harm to me internally than good. it’s abhorrent how black and brown people have constantly fought for reproductive rights for decades just to be handed dust. this country genuinely hates its people. the people hate their own people. i could speak this til i give myself an asthma attack, but who will truly listen?

[aronarchy]

https://twitter.com/butchanarchy/status/1654190751218126871

Frankly I reject the premise that asking for food and water and being frustrated when you’re devalued/ignored is, in any way, “unhinged” behavior. And I know for a fact the folks saying so have had much more disruptive meltdowns when a cashier won’t accept their expired coupons.

You try being without resources, always in public space, without a safe place to retreat to to have a good cry, and see how long it is before some strangers eventually see you express some frustration on a hard day.

I feel so much rage at the rampant pathologizing of an unhoused Black man responding to the material conditions he was entrapped by. That so many people apparently think a disruption to the violent comfort of the status quo can and should be responded to with lynching.

You all actually can handle disruptions. The constant, frequently violent, disruptions of wealthy white cis men are handled with caution and grace on a daily basis. Barely even spoken of. Disruptions aren’t the problem and never have been.

The problem is that white people, neuroconforming people, housed people, etc. feel a level of entitlement to have all public space catered to their comfort. To a degree that marginalized people even making their existence known is seen as “taking” something that belongs to them.

A total mental breakdown should be responded to with concern and care, not violence and scorn, but that’s not even what happened with Jordan Neely. For a moment he didn’t gaslight himself into ignoring his needs to follow the social script, and they killed him for it.

They didn’t murder him because he was a “disruption.” They murdered him because he was an unhoused Black man who wouldn’t nicely deny the reality and immediacy of his own needs for their ease, something the dominant social contact does not allow.

It is HEINOUS that people are responding to this murder by calling for more mental health services, which shifts the blame for what happened onto Jordan Neely for simply existing in public, when the murderous element was the surrounding people’s disregard and ENTITLEMENT.

https://twitter.com/hazycomrade/status/1654235764341997568

This cannot be said enough. I’m so angry that his mental health seems to be so centered on this conversation when it’s completely irrelevant. It's victim blaming

https://twitter.com/AListlessReader/status/1654194334252531713

Hang around at any given McDonald’s long enough and you’ll see temporarily hungry people yell and threaten teenage workers over McNuggets. When I worked at Subway, a dude threatened to stab me over being out of cheese bread. Don’t remember anyone calling for the death penalty.

Actually, if anything, the workers (who are often food and housing insecure themselves) get blamed for these interactions. Kind of seems like who gets to be disruptive in public with no consequences depends on, I don’t know, privilege?

https://twitter.com/DixonBrandywine/status/1654236182811918336

Hell, I’ve broken down in tears when, due to events that are technically all my fault, I was stuck at a place and didn’t have money for food or drinks for hours. All before cell phones.

But I’m white. So someone bought me a soda and a sandwich.

And I was even one of those “scary” white kids. All punk/goth/raver.

But my humanity was never in question.

That I’ve been THERE makes me feel so fucked up when I see these stories.

And this is a bad one, but it’s far from an isolated incident.

https://twitter.com/Born_Analog/status/1654255797243879424

A lot of comfortable housed folks can’t seem to separate discomfort at being confronted with poverty from being in any actual risk of harm. So many folks just want poor and mentally ill folks to just not exist. If they dare invade their reality they want to cop them away.

[pentagonieslut]

hi!!! would you maybe want to write a smut about harryjune? like him and the reader are rivals in school and they end up fucking in an empty classroom. (switch sub leaning harry would be perfect 🤭)

..lowkey (okay most likely seriously) shitty i’m sorry. 😔

warning: slight public!sex, cuss words, dominatrix!reader, sub!harry-june, shittalker! harry-june, sizewhore! harry-june, stigmatophiliac!harry-june, degradation, public shame/humiliation, unprotected sex, joi

student!harry-june, student!reader, rivals!harry-junexreader, fem body

always wrap before you make it clap.

harry-june looked at you and scoffed, watching at how you smiled at his friend heechan who had asked for your help in finding date ideas for his social sciences class with someone who’s a complete different personality from him. it just so happens that you’re exactly like the girl he can’t talk to despite being partners..and his crush.

“are you sure that she’s going to like a date to the tattoo shop?” he had asked, concern appearing on his face instantaneously. “yes chan, i promise. she’s my best friend and we’re the exact same.” he nodded and took notes, completing his project just 45 minutes after having it assigned- all because you know the other female by heart.

you glanced over and saw harry-June staring at you, causing your smile to fade and you to stand up, preparing to leave the class. “chan, if you need any more help and i mean not in your homework, you have my number. i’ll even make sure the boys at my shop know you’re having a date.” you said, grabbing your bag and exiting because the sight of harry-june pissed you off. especially the way he looked at you.

��and if you wonder if i hate you, fuck you’

sza was playing in your airpods, as you walked and sat on the stairs avoiding all the people going to their classes. the way harry stared at you had really pissed you off. it wasn’t like you were answering the question he wanted to answer or ripping his number one spot right off his chest in dance.

to be honest, you don’t even know how the hatred started. all you remember is that several years ago, you were eating a piece of your XXL toblerone and spacing out whilst your friends all whines and bitched about their crushes or boyfriends. until one of them spoke and mentioned that harry-june was their crush. but rumour was that he said something along the lines of you being a bitch or just someone who allows boys to screw since you look like their dream ‘foreign’ Barbie. sure you had an ass and a nice set of tits but it wasn’t your fault. you were born with it.

“nice to see you care about school somewhat.” you heard as you looked up at the taller, meeting the eyes of harry-june. “and i take it you still haven’t had the shit smacked out of you for that oh so heavenly mouth of yours.” you spat back. taking out your pods and stretching out on the step you were on, arms crossed as you watched his face change in amusement. “what’s wrong little harry? thinking about your number two spot?” he glared and you laughed a bit, watching him step over you to go down the stairs.

“fuck you. you’re annoying.” he scowled as the cackle left your mouth in amusement and slight joy. “aww you really think so? thank youu!” you replied mockingly as he shook his head stormed out. once he was gone, an exasperated sigh left your lips.

shit. unintentionally catching a glimpse at his arms and seeing the veins that had popped out in his anger and the strength he had used to resist punching you in the throat. “fuck him and his veins. why do veins always appear at the wrong time?” you mumbled as you went back to your phone and stretched your own hand you had kept hidden to resist the urge to punch him in the throat.

you had entered the dance studio and groaned when you saw that harry had purposely taken your locker. your assigned one when his was clearly empty- and open. this time you were sure he’s purposely pissing you off to lead up to a sinister prank he has stored for you like usual.

in the most cliche julie and the phantoms moment ever, the teacher had paired harry with you. to have privacy and work on choreography, you had both decided to go to the classroom in your year hall that was always empty for the teachers that were screwing each other or the latter.

“you know you should stop wearing outfits like that. a guy could think you wanna fuck and try to get up on you.” harry said as you looked up at the taller. “and you’re not my boyfriend. plus you boys need to stop trying to hit. y’all can’t hit like that. dumbass.” you said as you opened the door to the classroom and turned on the light. “can we dance to pressure?” you had asked as harry closed the door and locked for at least some extra privacy, turning around quickly. “hell no.”

“boys ain’t shit?” “…no and girls ain’t shit either.”

“we know that. why the fuck you think nate jackson said something about it?” he rolled his eyes and stretched alongside you. “hm, back to the streets?” he said as you glared at him. “that’s where your dog ass belongs. be a human stray in return for all those stray dogs to be in a warm home.”

“heartbreak anniversary.” “who’s broken up with you? junseo?” “no. and first off he’s dating someone else. why would i date my- nevermind.”

“ptsd.” “are you naming songs that way you can talk shit about me?” harry asked finally, nearly exploding. blinking twice, you ignored him. “wish you could suck it up, you sub.”

“i can’t let you give me ptsd either.”

“dally?” “..maybe.”

“chosen?” “no i’m not dancing with you to my solo dance song.” “why- fine!”

“dip.” “i fucking dare you.” “fine. peaches and cream.” “i’m not going to simulate fucking you because of a song and it’s title.”

“have mercy.” “no. fucking suffer.”

“act up.” “i will. i always do.”

“body.” “no.”

“mood.” “all because of you! do you not understand this? it’s always because of you!” harry finally screamed, causing you to freeze in shock. you’ve never heard him scream before. ever.

“don’t scream at me you fucking cunt. ever again. second, i’m in front of you so use an inside voice bitch. third, next time you wanna bitch and complain fill out a fuckING COMPLAINT FORM FOR MY DON’T GIVE A FUCK LINE.” you yelled back, grabbing his collar and yanking him down to your height aggressively causing him to nearly choke and blink in shock. he was definitely turned on.

looking down, he gulped and ripped himself from your grip, covering his face with his hands. “aww what happened to your shit talking? you were so adamant about it earlier.” you mocked, leaning against the stack of desks and watching the dick on harry grow big and strain against his pants harder than ever. “please stop.” he let out softly, unable to lift his head up.

“no. look at me you son of a wack.” you demanded, voice stern and deeper than usual. “oh no.” harry whispered as you laughed evilly. “does harry need to be taken care of before we carry on with our lesson?” you teased, watching him sit in a chair almost immediately.

“whatre you doing? take your dick out. let’s take care of our problem right now. i’ve got no time to plan the dance after school. tatting a tramp stamp on lune.” you said as you sat on a desk and leaned forward, watching Harry’s hands move and whip his dick out. oh how fucking cute.

“stroke it, bitch.” Harry’s head snapped up to look at you, the red on his face doing a horrible job. “i said stroke it.” grabbing his dick and stroking it slowly with shaky hands, harry whimpered and shuddered slightly. “go on. get yourself off you little bitch. jerk off to the thought of me commanding you to cum without even getting dirty.” you spoke as he started going faster, shuddering and cumming after a few strokes.

“aw boo. you came without me telling you to? no baby. hands back on your dick. you don’t get to do shit. i’m in charge.” harry gulped at how you started picking at your xxl stiletto nails, glancing up at him after a while of listening to him squirm and try not to Jack off. “bitches normally don’t deserve to cum. isn’t that right, my cute little whore?” you had asked as harry only nodded and succumbed to his desire. “speak stupid.” “yes ma’am. can i jack off?” smiling softly, you nodded. “slowly.”

getting your and heading to the desk that was filled with god knows what, opening one of the drawers for find a fleshlight, dildo, and a leash that would help useful later.

bringing the fleshlight and the dildo over, you smirked at the boy who only gulped as he saw you straddle him and hover right above his dick. “open.” you said, holding three fingers up your his mouth which he gladly took in his mouth. he sucked on them as he stroked a bit faster at your command. removing your hands and having the fleshlight lifted up, grabbed his chin roughly. “lick it.”

he licked the fleshlight that was a vagina, tongue still out. “suck it. come on, don’t waste my time. eat it like you’re eating real pussy. don’t you want to cum or at least eat some pussy right now?” you cooed as he ate the fleshlight in your hand, neck veins popping out as he was straining to open his mouth due to your grip on his chin and the teasing by pulling it away from him. the slurping noises filled the room and the sound of his bracelets hitting each other as he jerked off filled the room, a whine leaving his lips and a baby growl leaving yours.

“such a good boy. it’s good for a fake, right?” you asked as he only breathed out a yes, throwing his head back and moaning loudly. he wanted to feel something. fuck something. fuck you. his eyes opened as he saw you move off him and hum, giving a show that you felt he deserved for being such a good boy. taking your pants off slowly, listening to the moans leaving the other’s lips. harry figured out what you were going to do and it seemed like he wasn’t going to go soft any time soon.

“watch closely bub.” you said as you sank onto the dildo, your walls nearly swallowing it whole. he watched as you bounced on it and switched positions to thrust it in and out yourself. you moaned and continued thrusting it into yourself without satisfaction. harry wanted to move but he knew better, wanting the reward to be able to fuck you as soon as you were done. and done you were after a while and a stuttering harry june looked at you with wide eyes.

he watched as you got on your knees, taking his dick into your own hands and wrapping your mouth around it. he had felt your tongue ring against his painfully sensitive cock, causing him to short circuit and let out the most choked and tearful moan. it’s been nothing but torture for him and he wasn’t enjoying it whatsoever. continuing to suck and lick a stripe up his cock, he moaned and tried to rip his hair out from the pleasure. “please let me just fuck you.” he begged, scrambling to grab something that could help him hold onto the little sanity he had left.

“no. look at this pathetic dick of yours. it’s so much smaller compared to the dildo. look how fucking big it is. you see the shit on it? i came from it. this pathetic dick of yours cant make me squirt. can it? hm? will it even make new cum?” you asked as you smacked his dick and watched him tremble in the worst way possible, his abs clenching and unclenching. “well can it? show me all that cum you’ve been waiting to release.” as if on cue, harry came and all his cum ended up in your mouth, filling it up and quite nearly ready to drip.

the sight sent harry even further as he watched you swallow. his soul left his body and he went on autopilot, moving to the floor and pushing you down, shoving his dick inside you as he thrusted and rubbed your clit, other hand shoving your shirt up just so he could watch your tits bounce. your moans filled the room and after watching you cum all over him, he collapsed on top of you, not caring that you had moved from under him and now were on top of him- his back on the cold floor as you sucked him again, his softening dick hardening again.

“i’m still in control love. get dressed.” you said as you cleaned up the mess the two of you made, the last thing being you getting your pants back on and spraying the air freshener. watching him try to get his clothes back to normal, you walked over and tightened his pants to highlight the boner you had given him once again. attaching the leash to his neck and laughing, dragging him out as he fell to them floor from weak legs, watching the other students reactions who had wide eyes.

oh well. at least he’s your little pup.

[valleyfthdolls]

My designs look so uninteresting up against the official art I would just start redrawing the official artwork but I don’t hate myself enough for that

Anyways, here’s Haruka Amamiya. Haruka comes one of the poorer families in Sakuragi High’s student body. After her mother died in middle school, her family lost most of their income. However, Haruka’s father does his best to provide her with everything she needs. Most of her belongings don’t cost much, and more expensive things like her hair being dyed and permed are bought with her own money.

Haruka is sort of an outcast at Sakuragi High, and while she has a social group she spends time around, she’s pretty alienated from them as they consider her a poser and a pathetic try-hard, especially after her mother’s death when her father became depressed and alcoholic and Haruka began to lean on her friends far more for social connection. She’s a people pleaser and a social butterfly who has a hard time knowing when to stop trying to win someone over. Due to all this, she sees Akki as something of a kindred spirit and feels a sense of belonging with her. She calls Akki “Ki-chan”, and tries hard to reach out to her, considering her a friend and someone she can trust with anything.

Haruka, being a new member of the drama club, is adjusting fine to the play, but socially feels completely alienated. However, she continues to keep up hope with an “I can fix it” attitude, believing that she can and will win them over if she’s kind enough.

While I’d initially written Haruka as having a crush on Akki, I don’t think the idea of her being romantically infatuated with Akki adds anything of worth to the narrative, and have since decided to scrap it. Instead, Haruka simply wants Akki to feel like people care about her because she knows what it’s like to feel like no one does, and she feels like she and Akki are more alike by default than she is to anyone else. When she notices Akki begins to display concerning behavior, she attempts to reach out to her, but can’t really breach the subject because she’s scared of upsetting Akki and instead invites her to join play practice to help her rehearse her scene to make her feel better.

However, as Akki becomes progressively more cruel, cold, paranoid, and obsessed with her crush on Satoru, she only embodies the view everyone else has of her, but Haruka believes Akki is, or was, at one point, a good person, and notices her deteriorating behavior as suspicious as it seems to correlate with the missing person cases around the school. Haruka doesn’t want to believe Akki is a murderer, because she doesn’t think Akki is that kind of person, but she may turn out to be the one to set Akki’s most formidable rival in her way- someone whose eye isn’t on Satoru with affection, but on her with suspicion.

After that teacher disappears, there isn’t a doubt in Haruka’s mind that her friend is a murderer. Haruka is devastated, convincing herself this is all her fault for inviting Akki to play practice instead of just asking her why she was stalking Satoru or seemed so unlike herself. Which may have inspired Akki, but Haruka blaming it all on herself is completely unfair. If anything, it’s Kanae’s fault, or the fault of whatever made Kanae totally OK with the fucked up shit she pulled 30 years ago. Regardless, Haruka believes it’s her own fault, and decides she has to put a stop to it, if there’s anything she can do, anything at all, she has to do it.

[thesassysausage]

No one asked for it, but I wanna point out differences between the Jurassic Park movie and Jurassic Park book. I love both of them and they are very different from each other because the movie was in production before Michael Crichton even had the book released. Lots of my opinion on the changes too, but really, whos going to read this really? 

Spoilers Ahead!!!

John Hammond

Hammond is definitely one of my favourite characters in the movie (Dr. Ian Malcom is my absolute favourite), but I hate him in the book. Thankfully, in the book, hating him is the point. They gave many of Hammond’s negative traits to Gennaro in the movie (more on Gennaro later), like his focus on the profit and marketing. Book Hammond was not a doting grandfather, or a kindly eccentric old man. He was an old rich jerk that blamed everyone for the failures of the park and wouldn’t listen to any expert in any field or department when they said something was NOT going to work. The man literally hired people under NDAs and didn’t tell them the full scope of the park. Book Nedry’s frustrations was because of all the hidden information; it literally made his and his team’s job 100x harder because they couldn’t account for freaking dinosaurs when they don’t know about the dinosaurs. Book Hammond also constantly just thinks of the dinosaurs as attractions instead of living, breathing, genetically messed up creatures. He is that ‘man controls nature, it just takes will’ type of rich assholes and will never ever admit to his faults. Book Hammond also spends the entire breakdown of the park in his own protected compound and instead of being concerned for the wellbeing of his staff employs the ‘its their own fault’ mentality. Movie Hammond for the win.

The Dinosaurs

So I saw a post a long time ago that pointed out how unrealistic the behavior of the dinosaurs are when compared to modern animals. In the book this is subtly address. The movie leaves out the subtle assertions by both Dr. Grant and Dr. Malcom that Jurassic Park isn’t filled with dinosaurs but rather genetic monsters. Frequently in the book it’s pointed out that the dinos all act a little off. There are ones that kind of just stare dazed, the rex can’t see without movement (something that paleontologists had debunked years before the book was written), and the raptors were insanely aggressive. Dr. Grant notes that Velociraptors (although the book description and whats shown in the movie are actually Utah Raptors) are highly social and have social organization. He is surprised by the aggression in the raptors he sees. Basically the book implies throughout the narrative that what looks like a dinosaur really isn’t, it’s even pointed out that they have no way of knowing if they even look right. On that note too, Dr. Wu (who seems to have become a villain in the movie franchise) noted that for a long period of time he was under the impression they were dealing with reptile DNA. He wasn’t told he was looking to complete dino dna, and everything he ordered for the study and for the replication of dna was based on reptile dna. He quickly realized that it was far more similar to Avian dna, and then also added amphibian dna to the mix. The process of creating a dinosaur in the book is basically ‘throw everything in a blender and hope it turns out’, like the genetics team doesn’t even know what dino will pop out of the eggs when they’re hatching.

Dr. Malcom

So not too much different here. Book Malcom is also my favourite but in the book he kind of dangles the ‘I know how you fucked up’ knowledge in front of everyone from the moment he learns about the dinosaurs and the tracking system in the park. The line in the movie where Dr. Grant talks about amphibians changing sex in a same sex environment (fun fact there are fish that do that too, go trans fish), was Dr. Malcom’s line in the book. He basically points out, while high off his ass on pain killers, that they engineered the dinos to be able to reproduce. More than that he points out that they are tracking the EXPECTED NUMBER of dinos in the park...they were so sure that the dinos couldn’t reproduce (cuz dinos leaving the island was an issue that triggered Jurassic Parks audit on top of...you know, the guy getting mauled by a raptor that’s shown in the movie but only the aftermath is described in the book as the dude clings to life in a Costa Rican hospital). When they adjusted the number of expected dinos, wouldn’t you know, there was more. The Park also had back up generators kick in and they carried on containing the dinos, but malcom in a feverish state kept trying to give a warning, cuz wouldn’t you know the back ups didn’t kick start the main generator. 

Oh and they also leave out the pteradactyls...a whole ass viewing platform in a massive aviary was left uncovered so people could see flying dinos...and then the dinos dive bombed the staff cuz they could.

Fun fact: Spielberg brought on actual paleontologists to help make the dinosaurs look more realistic. They got access to top of the line computers that took input information on skeletal structure and muscle attachments and showed how something would move with those features. The Raptor movements are as close to realistic as we can get...or could get...its probably more accurate now.

Timmy is younger

Book Timmy is the older sibling, while Movie Timmy is the younger. This change was done for an actual cool reason on Spielberg’s part. Spielberg decided that the actor who played Timmy was the absolute youngest age an actor could be in his movie. He felt subjecting a younger child to the animatronics would be too traumatizing...which is good considering that scene where Timmy and Lex are in the car and the glass drops on them with the Rex’s head inside the car too was a technical failure...those werent acted screams of terror, that was the actors actually being terrified cuz the robo rex was NOT suppose to drop that far and the break away glass was NOT suppose to be braced by the two of them...made for a great scene though. Movie Timmy also lost his hacker side, which was given to Lex...I guess having a dino obsessed hacker kid was a bit much so the split the hacker and dino obsession between the two of them since Book Lexi was...a child...a boring child.

Gennaro was done dirty

Book Gennaro was an InGen lawyer just like the movie. However, Book Gennaro had a god damn spine and wasn’t a money obsessed asshat. Book Gennaro was already mad going to the park because he was missing his daughter’s birthday. Book Gennaro ripped Hammond a new asshole for bringing his grandchildren to a potentially dangerous park. Book Gennaro didn’t go on the car tour, so he didn’t abandon Timmy and Lexi. Book Gennaro helped to get people to safety in the final chapters of the book...oh and he lives. In the movie Gennaro’s character is merged with Hammond’s negative traits as well as a very unlikable PR person who name escapes me. The PR dude is suppose to watch the kids, which he is not happy with, and abandons them at the first sign of Godzilla...I mean the T-Rex. The movie did a very likeable character dirty...cuz the dude was definitely in the ‘lets not open this hell park’ group with...everyone else.

Dr. Grant and Dr. Sattler romance

I assume this movie change was to add a spark of romantic intrigue or something. I mean, they didn’t do it well but its really apparent in the introduction of Dr. Grant and Dr. Sattler that they have a thing. In the book Dr. Grant is old enough to be Dr. Sattler’s dad, and likes her as his favourite student...not love interest. Book Sattler is engaged, and is close friends with Dr. Grant cuz he was her prof while she was doing her PhD in Paleobotany. This one always bothered me, but at least the kept in how wicked cool Dr. Sattler was.

Nedry

Now Book Nedry is still the ass that causes the park to shut down and all the dinos to get out. His motivations and role are slightly more complex. He is the head of a team from a university...it escapes me at the moment and I don’t know where my copy of the book is. He made the system exactly to Hammond’s specifications, which left out several key details, and Hammond yelled at him for doing a piss poor job. Nedry went out personally to try to fix the issues but Hammond would not pay more to have the issues fixed, believing them to be Nedry’s fault and not the fault of not having information Hammond neglected to tell him. So he wasn’t just a random techie at Jurassic Park, he was basically head programming developer that was being severely mistreated by an old wind bag that believed he could do no wrong.

The Climax

So the main goal in the book, from Dr. Grant’s storyline, was to warn the administration that two baby raptors were on a boat set to leave the island...there was also a whole thing about the island literally being fire bombed because the raptors started acting weird and all Grant could think of was that they were getting ready to migrate. It would be too long to explain fully but yeah.

I know I’m missing stuff, but those are the ones that always come to mind when I think of the differences between book Jurassic Park and movie Jurassic Park. Honestly if they ever ‘remade’ Jurassic Park a more direct book adaptation would be awesome...but people would be confused cuz they probably haven’t read the book and would be so shocked to see Hammond being a right dick.

[m0e-ru]

art summaries from this year and the last !! 21-22 !!

and here's some more commentary for 2022 because i will be more annoying this year

January - not a lot happening. i was asking for art reqs and NO ONE had ideas

February - MOEL SEKIYU TUMBLR BRANCH TOHRU ADACHI BIRTHDAY CELEBRATION?

March - 3/20 YEAH WAHOOO YEAAAH

April - lots of messing around this month. my merch came in the mail though !!!

May - PXDN ERA but i answered the teddie in a dress ask from like. two months prior

June - * didnt post this anyway i was messing around with csp. i really like the marker

July - * DIDNT POST THIS EITHER but one idol's stage costume looked like sho colors. it was funny in the moment

August - * DIDNT FUCKING POST THIS EITHER I HAVE NO IDEA anyway i just think theyre very important

September - * HOW MANY BIG PIECES HAVE I NOT BEEN POSTING HERE WHAT THE FUCK WHERE DO I EVEN SHARE THEM ANYWAY MAKING THIS WAS REALLY SAD CHIZUSAN WAS RETIRING AND DELETED HER SOCIALS ohh right my mimbot

October - I was trying out watercolors (the brush) and MARIE HALLOWEEN 2022 !!!

November - pocky day :] except it's jagariko

December - new year's art !! ive been wanting to draw blorbo to sogabe's new year art from the manga so here it is !!! sorry for no christmas holiday art

and here’s the love letter ive been meaning to write all the way back in august. it’s a bit personal but also vague . I am speaking from a soapbox next to a quiet intersection and pouring my heart out

im happy to see how ive improved throughout the years, and in some aspects stayed completely the same apparently. ve been jumping around 1000 brushes and 10000 more art styles ive never stayed consistent because I wanted something new and all I had was myself ! so apparently it became whatever happened here.

It’s true I had a lot more steam last year when it came to pumping art out but I think im also glad I did less art this year in a way. I’ll admit a lot of last year was fueled by chasing people and a way to reach the top and get my voice heard I felt like I was fighting for my life but im not too sure how it looked like from the outside. It’s also been fueled by spite which made me incredibly tired and something im glad I stopped utilizing this year. That I learned my boundaries and maintained them as peacefully as I am now.

Sure im a lot more tired but I think the pace im taking is a bit better in it’s own way too. I really wish I could’ve done more this year but when I look at it from afar I guess im still chasing things, too. Maybe not something new and I never really aimed for fame or anything. Maybe I just wanted to keep what I already have?

2021 I’ll confess was also a pile of shit and I guess 2022 was the year of my digging it all away and I’m not done yet. But as long as there’s progress that’s good enough for me. I’m glad I’ve been able to do all these things than not do them at all. But sometimes I wish I could relearn the restraint I had from before.

I never wanted to put a dark stain on the things I love so as long as I ground myself and remind myself why im here I can see the light and remember why I love theses things. I’m speaking in a very vague manner and I am relating this to my time in fandom as cheesy as it sounds, but also personally, I guess.

Imagine it like im talking on a soapbox right now when I say im really glad for the time I’ve spent here—while all of it isn’t the best that could’ve happened and the fault of my own shortcomings—I still treasure it. I love all the people I’ve met and the community I’ve formed and I guess there’s this fear of losing things since I’m afraid I can’t get them back, that I haven’t learned how to even connect better anymore. I really dont want this to sound like someone died lol but I really am genuinely grateful for all the time ive spent with people and how they considered me their friend and how theyre my friend and how they just moved on to other things and im stuck in a box ive put myself in that makes it so hard to be heard I stopped talking anyway.

To those who met me this year, or last year, or the year before that, or knew me before this gas station, and still are here somehow: thank you. For your kindness, for your tags, for your asks, for your replies, for your messages, for your discords, for your writing, for your art and for everything you’ve offered me. I always mean my gratitude from the bottom of my heart and I want to stop being afraid that it doesn’t show.

If this year brings more “Mim” then so be it. I’m happy you find joy in the silly nickname and all the love behind it no matter how silly it is. And even if I drift away or we all drift apart, I treasure every memory and sometimes cry over it at night. I wish 2023 would be nice to all of us and the years after.

[themostsensitivegirlintheworld]

first post

I’m in a really bad way right now. Suicidal even. I’m not going to kill myself. But the thought of how it would end this fucking cycle has crossed my mind more than a few times in the past few days. It’s a good thing that I’m too scared to die. I thought about cutting myself. Then I thought about why I would be doing it and I usually hear people say it’s to “feel something,” but to me, it’s to punish myself. Punish myself for being ungrateful. Punish myself for not being patient with my dogs when I was the one who chose to get them. Punish myself for being frustrated with my job that I didn’t get a thank you. Punish myself for not putting myself out there and then feeling lonely because I don’t have a partner. Punish myself for not taking care of my body when I have every tool and opportunity to do so. Punish myself for being stubborn. Punish myself for not finishing what I start. Punishing myself for saying no to three separate invitations for Christmas Eve and Christmas, but saying no to all of them. I could keep going. So, I will. Here are other things that make me feel like shit and like I need a punch to the dome: I make a good amount of money, but I’m always broke, so I never have money. I play both sides of the fence. Not on purpose but doesn’t that make it worse? I talk about being nice and then am so mean in my head. I talk so much shit. I talk so much. I do NOT give my dogs the attention that they deserve. I never walk them. I take up new hobbies, make them my entire personality, then abandon them. I’m not finishing dog training school. I have several good friends, but never reach out to them to make plans, but they still include me. I’m insanely jealous and insecure about everything. I’m sitting here in my own home, typing on my own computer, sitting on my own couch, with my three dogs, and a car outside, and I’m still selfishly depressed. I should feel lucky. But I don’t. I’m constantly feeling bad for myself and constantly looking for the attention that I absolutely did not get as a child. Wonder when that will go away. I can’t focus on anything, ever. I don’t even know if the Ritalin I’m taking is working or making it worse or nothing at all. I won’t stop taking it, because it keeps me skinny enough to where I can actually like myself sometimes. Looking at my social media, you’d think that I am this honest, laid back, smart, confident woman, which I am not. Social media is such a fraud. Yet, living alone, it’s the only way that I feel like I can feel like I’m not completely alone in the world. But subconsciously, I know it’s making it worse. I always have my eyes on some sort of screen. God forbid an actual thought creeps through. I order takeout all the time. I have barely any money but I’d probably order it tonight and tomorrow if it wasn’t Christmas Eve. 

People say to reach out when you’re struggling, but I already hate myself. The thought of reaching out to a friend while they’re all enjoying the holidays with their friends & families, to ask them to stop and pay attention to me feels….. like it will definitely make me hate myself even more. I haven’t had human interaction in about 4 days. This is my own fault as well. I’m lonely, but I isolate myself. I have plenty of opportunities to go out and be with people, but then I would have to perform and keep my mask up and I’m already so exhausted. I’ve been hyper-focused on how performative my entire life has been up to this point. I think most people call it “being present,” but I never liked that phrase. It sounds like an action that I can take to fix everything and I never quite understood it. It felt like homework. When I think of not being performative or even try it for a few seconds in public, it feels freeing. Too freeing. Like if I let it go on for another second or two, I’d get taken away in a padded truck to the looney bin. I am so afraid of letting anyone see the real me. I’d go so far as to say that no one has ever seen it. I’m sure that’s what’s holding me back from having any sort of meaningful relationship.

All I want is my person. I want my partner and best friend. Not some dude from a dating app that sort of works. I want it to be fairytale rom-com love. I want a meet-cute. I want to have that partner that takes candid photos of me and tells me how beautiful I look when I truly think I look hideous. I want that partner that I don’t have to perform for and they love me because of that. It feels like so many people around me have found that and I haven’t. They all tell me that I need to put myself out there more, but most of them didn’t find their significant others by puTtinG ThEmSelVes oUt ThEre, so they can fuck right off. Most of them met through friends or in high school or some other happenstance. Not because they went to a cookout looking to meet their future spouse.

I’ve been thinking a lot about being a writer lately. I read some quote from someone recently saying that they became a writer when they were 38. Which is my age. Then I’ve had a few people tell me that I should be a writer based off of social media posts, which is arguably the best compliment that I could get. The thing is… I don’t know where to start. I don’t think I’d want to share this piece that I’m writing right now. Maybe anonymously, but certainly not with my own name. Too many people would worry about me. Maybe a pen name? Or an anonymous blog? But then how do I get it out there so people can see it? In my fantasies, I’m a column writer or a freelance writer that is known for my raw and relatable emotion that comes through in my writing. It helps people. It makes people realize that they’re not alone. Eventually, I am known by my own name and I write a book or a memoir. Or I write pieces for the New York Times or Time Magazine. Or Rolling Stone. Pieces about emotional topics. But I don’t know if I can even write well when I’m not in an overly-emotional state. What would I do, only write very specific articles based on my moods? Maybe I’ll publish this anonymously and people can tell me what they think. 

I thought about entering writing contests and looked some up. But I’ve never had any formal training, so I feel like an imposter. BIG SHOCKER. I did see some of those monetary prizes, though, and that made it a bit more appealing. Is this a real dream or just another one of my ADHD fixations? What if I’m actually terrible and I’m one of those people who has no self-awareness and then I’ll be absolutely mortified. I worry about these things. I’m a worrier. I always have been and probably always will be. I’ve been trying my entire life to be the cool, laid back, doesn’t need to talk all the time, chick, but I’ll be honest - I’m old and it hasn’t worked for more than a few minutes at a time. I know I should EmBraCe iT but that’s one of those things that is much easier said than done. 

I’ve always been “too much.” I talk too much. I’m an intense person. I talk loudly. I don’t have much of a filter, (and not in that cool edgy way but more like in that throwing everything at the wall to see what sticks type of way). My brain: have a joke? SAY IT. NOW. TO EVERYONE.” Most of them don’t land, but the few that do are pure endorphin bombs. I don’t really know what that means about me, but I know that when I can make someone laugh at something - like, genuinely laugh.. not a quick giggle - I am over the moon. I will tell that joke over and over and over to get that reaction. It’s gotta be comparable to what heroin feels like. 

I’ve always heard that comedians are the most depressed people and that makes sense for me. I’m funny. I know I’m funny. It’s the only thing that I like about myself most days. A lot of people use humor to deflect in situations where they’re uncomfortable, but I think the difference with comedians is that we use it in every situation. It just gets stronger the more uncomfortable the situation. I mean, I didn’t even absorb that fact that I have a lifelong degenerative disease for TEN FULL YEARS because my brain told me to joke about it the minute I got diagnosed. So I did. Ask anyone who’s been around me for more than a few minutes - I like to joke. I like to laugh and make people laugh. How ironic, that on the inside, I want to die most days. How ironic that people would be the least worried about someone like me because “she’s always laughing,” when in reality, most nights, I am by myself in my bed, eating something that I feel guilty about and wondering why I’m forever alone. I’ll be the loudest and most obnoxious one at the party, but as soon as I get in my car alone, it goes down the tubes and the other side emerges. It has great timing like that - only coming out when no one else is around to see it. This big black cloud that’s always a few feet behind me, but sometimes catches up and latches on for a few days or weeks. Depression. Another disease that I have. Most people do, but I think for most people, it’s situational. I’m the super lucky type that has it always and forever and extremely intensely. When it does catch up to me, like it did a few days ago, I become an isolated, unbathed, starved, angry, crying, pathetic shell of a human. And that’s what I’m teetering on the edge of currently. 

I’m hoping that going to the shelter tomorrow, (on Christmas Day), will help me pull myself out of this hole. My guess is that either I’ll cancel last-second or I’ll go and feel a little bit better for a day or maybe two, and then fall back into it again. The loneliness. It’s crushing me.

[dancergurl3000]

Continued essay.

I find myself waxing poetic about that time and realizing that I never want to go back there either. It was a terrible time! I always tell everyone that I know (and I guess myself as well), that I BARELY graduated from Oneonta state. But it’s true. I did barely graduate. My biggest complaint that semester was the new rule for the psychology on campus. Oneonta students that fall were only allowed three visitations to the counselor on campus. So to me, it was no wonder and no big surprise at all to me when one student felt the need to blast his own negativity on social media instead of just thinking his own thoughts and heading into the guidance counselor’s office with them. Why feel the need to ruin everyone’s final moments of college will never be understood by a person such as myself. But it did feel familiar to me in my schooling career to have such a dramatic end to my schooling. My senior year of high school felt like a moment of time of utter dread in the fall semester when we seniors were being blamed for the previous spring semester’s school prank! Oh yes, we juniors woke up to our last day of junior year of high school to it being canceled and closed with a bunch of idiot seniors deciding to vandalize the buses with a tire iron. I was gifted a cell phone that Christmas so my best friend at the time Rachel Tallman had waited for a public school bus for three and a half hours and called me to rage at ME about it. She had no idea that Colonie Central High School had shut down. Fast forward twenty years and I was unsurprised at that Oneonta sophomore’s public Facebook post. My graduating class of June 2009 CCHS high school graduates would have nodded and smiled and taken it on the chin and just told my professors: “get used to the drama that will follow you around through your working career until you retire because we CCHS students know what it feels like to be blamed for something that has nothing to do whatsoever with your character.” All I can really remember of that time in 2015 was being mostly glad my college career was over. I walked and walked into my future. In the ten years since I’ve been out of school permanently my life is so much more peaceful. It’s full of friendship, good music, family, and most lovingly of all, great pets to keep me company. If you ask me about school, I honestly don’t miss it. Public schooling is in total crisis and free fall right now and it’s not the student’s faults. It’s the administrators fault, who put sports over academics. It’s the incoming administration Presidentially speaking’s fault who think that “arming teachers with guns” is better than paying them a living wage. My favorite professor from Oneonta state was on fucking food stamps, and is the funniest man I know in upstate New York, yet it should not be a thing at all for teachers to have to be on food stamps because they can’t pay their bills. And they don’t teach history like they used to anymore, public school teachers are completely glossing over subjects like World War One, and Jim Crow Laws in the South and the Midwest and stories such as “Lovecraft Country” which celebrate “black love”, and in which I cheer that on and celebrate and clap because “black love” is beautiful to me, but I also can not ignore the simple fact that the black girls of my high school also had a terrible time, as terrible of a time as I did. I’m angry I had to learn about things as an adult when I should have been taught them in history class. I’m angry at Disney for sugar coating mass murder, like anyone really believed for a second that the Romanov family had a chance at escaping death? At how my favorite Disney story, “Aladdin” was completely made up by a kidnapped Indian woman who looked at her captor and told him that story so that he would not kill her in her tent every night? And what about the criminal teacher who taught music class, band class who stole all of one teacher’s guitar equipment? These things need to be fixed, not done away with. I don’t miss school because the drama surrounded me wherever I went.