#and then also. i have to do aubrey in front of people in less than a week for the first time

[magentagalaxies]

oh buddy cole timeline we're really in it now

[carav4l]

dim light

Pairing: Theodore Nott x fem!reader

Summary: After the first Quidditch match of the year, Y/N founds herself in the wrong side of the bar at the club she works at. And she’s not specially happy about it. However, Theo Nott is even more pissed, and he has all the rights to be.

Warnings: violence (not developed, but a fight does take place), swearing.

Before you read: this piece is set in a CollegeAU! English is not my first language, so please take that into consideration and be nice. Also, the whole piece is written in third POV because it’s the one I’m more comfortable with. Reader’s house isn’t specified, but definitely isn’t Slytherin or Gryffindor for the plot’s sake.

Y/N had to cover for one of her colleagues that night, Aubrey, who was feeling unwell after accidentally tasting some unfinished potion they had been working on that morning’s class. So, much to her regret, Y/N had to experience the post-season party from behind the bar at the Witch’s Hour Nightclub. Y/N wasn't the biggest fan of Quidditch by any means, but she did love everything that came with it at the castle: the colorful stands, skipping classes to watch the other’s houses games, the tension during the match, and above all, the celebrations that followed.

"Can I have two strawberry daiquiris, please?"

Ginny Weasley's words were met with a nod from Y/N, who smiled hoping to conceal her frustration. As she prepared the drinks, she glimpsed her group of friends amidst the dance floor frenzy. Just about ten minutes ago, they had all been keeping her company, sympathizing with her bad luck until Y/N urged them to enjoy the night on her behalf, and they had moved towards the dance floor to never come back. With all honesty, Y/N didn’t blame them for doing so.

Once the daiquiris were ready, Y/N placed them in front of the redhead without a word, her forced smile still in place. After paying for her order, the Gryffindor left the bar to join Luna Lovegood on the other side of the room.

Y/N barely had time to stash the money in the cash register before another group of girls shouted their order at her, noticeably less politely than Ginny. Y/N found herself close, very close, to spitting on the three Sex on the Beach cocktails in front of her. She couldn't stand how people could seem to lose their manners with the slightest bit of alcohol in their system. It didn't take her long to realize that, when it came to those girls, the unjustified attitude was because it had been Y/N who had taken their order, not the curly-haired guy going back and forth behind her.

Theodore Nott seemed considerably more annoyed about working that night than Y/N. And rightfully so, given his position as chaser on the Slytherin team, which had also happened to lose the game that day. Well, if Y/N was in a bad mood, Theo seemed ready to hex anyone who entered his line of sight at any moment.

Y/N took the wad of bills the group left, or rather slammed on the counter, and turned to head back to the register. This time however, she ended up colliding with something herself, most specifically her coworker's chest. The boy’s hands shot to her waist to prevent her from falling, and Y/N felt the exposed skin between her black crop top and low-rise sequin miniskirt burn. She unconsciously grabbed onto Theo's forearm, her chest constricted by the sudden scare.

"Hey angel, seems like you really tripped over me there," he said with a grin once Y/N steadied herself, not even making an attempt to let her go. In fact, she felt like he was tracing circles on her hip with his thumb. Y/N became acutely aware of the places where Theo's skin touched hers. "You good?"

She lifted her gaze to his watercolor eyes and cursed herself for the effect they, and the boy himself, seemed to have on her. It was utterly stupid, as everyone knew that Theodore Nott wasn't available and didn't seem like he would ever be. The boy seemed way above any one-night stand or anything as trivial as college relationships. Y/N believed she could count on one hand all the girls she knew he had been involved with. In some way, she respected him for that.

"Yeah, sorry," she apologized with flushed cheeks, silently grateful for the dim lighting of the venue. "It's just that tonight's been a mess and I'm a bit distracted."

Her words got lost in the music resonating through the speakers. Theo put a finger to his ear to signal that he hadn't heard anything, then buried his hand in Y/N's hair and gently brought their faces closer. Y/N repeated her response, earning a nod and a guttural sound of agreement.

"Tell me about it," Theo sighed then, pulling his face back just enough for their eyes to lock. They were so close that their noses almost brushed.

"I still don't quite get why you're working tonight, to be honest. I thought there was an unwritten rule that said Quidditch players didn't have to work on match days."

"Well, let's just say dear boss couldn’t seem to care less about that rule," the guy said, giving a sidelong glance at Philippa Harvey, a rather ill-tempered Ravenclaw who happened to be the club's manager. She was on the good side of the bar, dancing suggestively with a guy Y/N couldn't quite place. "Let's say she made me an indecent proposal, and I turned her down. And voilà, here I am."

A pang of something close to jealousy reluctantly settled in Y/N's stomach. It's not like she had any right to feel that way, anyway. She opened her mouth to express how sorry she felt for him, both for Slytherin's defeat and the fact that Philippa had finished screwing the night for him, but the sound of someone banging on the counter forcefully stole her opportunity.

"Hey, you two! Less groping and more pouring drinks."

It was a Gryffindor from the Quidditch team, tall and big, with a rather ordinary face. Y/N assumed that's why she couldn't remember his name. In any case, he seemed pretty drunk to her.

After trailing her cheek with his thumb one last time, Theo let go of her and with the distasteful expression he had worn all night back in place, told Y/N that he would handle it. She sighed and resumed the task of putting away the money in the cash register. Once done, she walked over to where Theo was serving the Gryffindor big guy to attend another one who had just arrived at the bar.

As she was about to start making a gin and tonic for him, a shot glass was placed right in front of her. Y/N raised an eyebrow at Theo, and he just shrugged in response. "It's going to be a long night," he seemed to convey with the gesture. "We might as well make it as enjoyable as possible." She agreed, so she took the shot and brought it to her lips without hesitation. Theo did the same with his own shot, never taking his eyes off her, and Y/N wasn't sure if the rush of heat that swept through her body was due to the alcohol or his gaze.

"Have another one on me, Nott," the Gryffindor guy interrupted them again, placing another pair of bills on top of those already on the counter. "And another for your gorgeous coworker. It sucks that you have to be the one serving drinks after how we beat the shit out of you guys this afternoon, don't you think?"

Theo clenched his fist around the glass, his knuckles turning white. Lips pressed into a stern line, he continued preparing the jerk's drink without looking up from his task. Y/N continued hers, not taking her eyes off the scene unfolding by her side.

"I also think it sucks that such a pretty girl like you has to be on that side of the bar," the Gryffindor guy persisted, unabated. Y/N looked at him out of the corner of her eye, still working, grabbing a bottle of gin from under the bar and pouring it into the glass in front of her. "When you get a break, you could look me up. We Gryffindors know how to show a girl a good time."

Disgusted, Y/N opened her mouth to tell him that she'd rather get eaten by a basilisk than to let him lay a finger on her, but someone beat her to it.

"Don't you even think about talking to her," snapped Theo, slamming the drink down in front of the Gryffindor with such force that Y/N thought the glass might shatter. "In fact, don't ever look at her again."

Y/N was taken aback by such words. She glanced at Theo with a racing heart, but he didn't return the look because his gaze was fixed on the idiot. The latter laughed brazenly.

"And what are you gonna do about it?"

Y/N saw a glint of anger in Theo's watercolor eyes, so she hurried to slip under the boy's arm resting on the counter and interpose herself between him and the Gryffindor. For a moment, Theo ignored her and continued to glare at the rival idiot. With a slightly trembling hand, Y/N grabbed his face by the jaw and forced their gazes to meet. If he had taken her that intimately before, he shouldn't mind her doing the same, right?

"Theo," she called him. He however, not willing to give in attempted to turn his face again. "Theo, just leave it. It's not worth it."

Y/N felt Theo's grip on his jaw tighten even more, but he nodded imperceptibly anyway.

"Fine."

"Yeah, Nott, listen to your little whore."

In the blink of an eye, Theo had jumped over the counter and landed a solid left hook on the round-faced Gryffindor. Y/N gasped in surprise at the sight. The Slytherin boy wasn't particularly known for getting into fights, not even when they happened during a match and the rest of his team and some of his friends were involved. That was more typical of Mattheo Riddle, or Lorenzo Berkshire. By Merlin, even Malfoy could be more prone to fights than Theo.

But there he was, straddling a guy who was a head taller and twice his size, punching him repeatedly in the face. Y/N figured the only reason Theo barely had gotten a scratch on his cheek was that, as she had suspected earlier, the Gryffindor was quite drunk. For a moment, Y/N just stood there, doing nothing but watching the spectacle unfold before her eyes, as if in a trance that prevented her from looking away. It didn't last too long luckily, and once she managed to move, she went straight to the dance floor, heading for the area where she thought she had spotted Theo's group of friends over an hour ago.

If it hadn't been for Draco Malfoy's bleached blond hair, Y/N didn't think she would have found them in the mass of dancing bodies. Pushing any insecurities the group might make her feel deep down, Y/N grabbed the wrist of the person who was closest to her and shook them hard enough to get their attention. Mattheo Riddle's dark eyes met hers shortly after, giving her an unfriendly once-over from head to toe. The guy didn't even bother to speak, looking at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Hmm... I'm Y/N Y/L/N," she introduced herself awkwardly, trying not to dwell on it for too long. "I work here with Theo. This is actually about him. He's fighting with a Gryffindor idiot, and I'm not saying he doesn't deserve it, but the guy is like twice his size, and I can't separate them."

Surprise transformed Mattheo's face, which only confirmed the belief that Theo and fighting didn't usually appear in the same sentence. He turned to his friends to convey the message, and they all hurriedly followed Y/N to the bar where Theo was still straddling the Gryffindor, as if Y/N had never left. In less than a second, Mattheo and Blaise had each of Theo's arms and were leading him out of the club, followed by Lorenzo, Draco, and Pansy.

Once again, Y/N stood still, not quite sure how to proceed. One thing was clear though: she definitely didn't want to be near the idiot once he woke up, or when his friends showed up and looked for someone to blame. Y/N approached the bar again to inform her only other coworker, a girl from her house with whom she maintained a friendly relationship of greetings and pleasant smiles in the corridors, that she was going to make sure Theo was okay. The girl nodded, and without further ado, Y/N headed for the back exit of the Witch's Hour, reserved only for staff and, on this occasion, Theo's friends.

Outside in the dimly lit alley, she found the curly-haired boy sitting on an old wooden crate, with Pansy Parkinson crouched in front of him at a distance that, for some reason she couldn’t wrap around her finger, seemed too short to Y/N. Pansy seemed to be giving him a quiet scolding even though there was no one else there but the two of them and their other four friends, standing prudently apart. Theo had his gaze fixed on the ground, and although Y/N couldn't see his eyes because of his bangs, she noticed that his jaw was clenched once again.

Y/N approached cautiously the rest of the group. The smell of tobacco from Mattheo and Lorenzo's cigarettes wafted into her nose, causing her to wrinkle her nose in distaste. Blaise was the first to notice her presence.

"You didn't need to come out," he spoke in a calm tone, giving her a friendly smile. Y/N shrugged and returned the smile timidly.

"Blaise’s right," Lorenzo chimed in between drags of his cigarette. The contrast between his boyish face and the action itself shocked Y/N. "Pansy knows how to handle him."

Y/N made an affirmative sound before giving a proper response. Why had she come out, anyway? The answer briefly crossed her mind, but she couldn't even process it correctly, let alone speak it out loud. She decided to go for the most obvious excuse.

"I just wanted to make sure he's okay. After all, this happened because..."

"I don’t fucking care, Theodore!" Pansy's shout cut her off mid-sentence. The five turned their heads toward them. Pansy had stood up and was pointing an accusing finger at Theo. "You're supposed to be the smart one in the group. You shouldn't stoop to this crap."

"Ouch," Mattheo whimpered, taking a drag from his cigarette.

"Don't play the victim, Riddle," Draco said, leaning against the alley wall with his arms crossed over his chest. "She hasn't said anything that isn't true."

"It's still pretty uncalled for on her part."

The conversation died there, unlike the ongoing one between Pansy and Theo. Y/N decided to wait until Theo's friends went back inside the club to talk to him alone about what had happened. She didn't feel up to doing it with all those strangers watching her from the other side of the alley, and there was no need to create such a scene.

The night was strangely cool for the time of year they were in, and considering how lightly she was dressed, Y/N began to shiver slightly. Thanks to Merlin, only a couple more minutes passed before Pansy concluded her scolding and headed back to the club. Y/N couldn't quite grasp the look she shot her as she walked by. It wasn't a look of complete disdain, at least not entirely, but it lacked the warm smile Blaise had given her earlier.

"Ignore her," Blaise reassured, that same smile still on his face. Shifting his attention back to Y/N, he noticed her shivering and promptly took off his green and black Quidditch team bomber jacket to offer it to her. "Here, take it. Give it back to Theo, and he'll return it to me."

Y/N barely had any time to refuse, but was grateful that Blaise didn't give her the chance to as she truly could use some warmth. She slid her arms into the sleeves of the jacket, which was considerably larger than her, and involuntarily breathed in its scent: expensive cologne with hints of mint and chocolate. Y/N couldn't help but find it somewhat addictive.

Once alone in the alley, Y/N walked over to where Theo was still seated, head down and hands tangled in his hair.

"Hey," she managed to say.

After a significantly long sigh, Theo raised his gaze to meet hers. With a tired smile, he greeted her in a hushed voice.

"Are you okay?"

"Mhhm," Theo barely made a sound in response, unsure of what else to say.

There was an air of something new between them, and neither was quite sure how to proceed. Y/N raised her hand with the intention of cupping his face to see for herself if what the boy had said was true, but her hand stopped midway. She attempted to disguise the motion by placing her hand on her chest.

"Thanks for standing up for me," Y/N finally said, feeling her cheeks grow warm.

"Anytime," Theo murmured, his voice slightly huskier than usual. In a sudden surge of courage he took Y/N's hand in his and tugged it gently, bringing her closer to him. He played with her fingers as he spoke again. "I wish you hadn't had to see that, though."

"Let's just say you could have settled for threatening him or something," she excused him, downplaying it with a giggle that made the boy smile. "But I'm still grateful you did it."

Silence once again settled between them, but this time it felt more comforting in a way. For a few moments, they simply locked eyes, trying to find in each other's eyes all that they were feeling themselves. Y/N was genuinely surprised to find herself in this situation with none other than Theodore Nott. There had always been a sort of mutual understanding between them, a silent complicity they didn't share with any of their clubmates. But Y/N had always assumed it was a simple friendship, that Theo considered her a part of the short list of people he tolerated, and that was it.

However, under the dim light of the moon that night, it felt like much more to her.

"I think we should go back inside," Y/N said in a hushed voice, fearing that if she raised her tone too much, the magical moment would come to an end.

"We should, yeah," Theo agreed, but despite his words, made no attempt to go back inside. If anything, he pulled Y/N's hand a bit more until she was practically between his legs.

With his free hand, Theo cautiously cradled her face, as if unsure if she would pull away. On the contrary, Y/N tilted her head letting it rest in his hand, unable to believe that all these displays of affection were coming from him.

"Can I ask you something?" Theo's voice caught her slightly off guard, but she nodded all the same.

"Sure."

"Never wear Zabini's jacket again," his words caught her with a bit of surprise, and her cheeks turned an even rosier shade.

"Why? Are you going to lend me yours or something?" she joked, pushing a couple of strands of hair from Theo's face, using the excuse to touch him again.

Theo's gaze darkened a bit, and for a moment, Y/N cursed herself for choosing those words. Maybe they weren't at that point yet, right? Perhaps they hadn't reached the teasing phase, and her comment might had made Theo close up. It wouldn't surprise her coming from him.

Y/N didn't dare breathe again until Theo spoke, eyes filled with certainty.

"Consider it done."

Her heart raced, and seeing the smile that transformed her face into one of unexpected joy, his did too.

[severus-snaps]

just bringing this back again because it won't leave my brain alone, so in the meantime putting under the cut bc it ended up getting long

cw for sexual assault themes

i'm confident James removed Sev's underwear in front of a crowd (you wouldn't make a threat like that and not go through with it, especially as James had just been rejected, was angry, and needed someone else to be the one who everyone remembered as being humiliated - and if he hadn't managed it, if someone had interrupted or James had a change of heart, Remus and Sirius would've said when Harry asked them to placate him. Instead we get some half-baked "but James was 15 and also we didn't like Snape" which Harry rightfully points out it bullshit)

Sirius, king of biting remarks as far as the Marauders go, probably made a few pointed comments on the sorts of things young men make pointed comments about when dicks are involved. Just for good measure, he might have made a few jabs about Sev's general appearance, too

did James go further? How much further can you go, I hear you ask? Well, he'd already choked Sev, and they're not above using illegal hexes (looking at you, Bertram Aubrey), and James was riled up and putting on a show. I wouldn't be surprised if they added some kind of hex for boils or a stinging hex or similar, though whether they aimed for the front or back is dealer's choice. either would be painful and probably require a trip to Madam Pomfrey

did they let him down with the crowd there, or did they leave him in the air until the next lesson or whatever? I'm inclined to think that they wouldn't let him down to get his wand and retaliate whilst they were still in the vicinity, but I also like to think that eventually SOMEONE would have stood up to James & Co. and let Sev down (though maybe whoever did so waited for James to get bored and leave, so they weren't next).

a less optimistic interpretation would be that James would keep escalating, but I don't think he was that bad. Once the 'fun' was over and the initial 'joke' got tired, I think he'd get bored and leave Sev up there. The Marauders would swagger off, Peter acting like it was the best thing in the world, Remus quietly disapproving and making them feel slightly guilty after the fact, and someone else let Sev down. Maybe a Slytherin, maybe someone who just pities him - which he'd hate even more

That sort of thing (hexes or not) would be painful and humiliating enough, without realising that your best friend now hates you because you lashed out in the most vicious way, so first he needs some time alone. I hc Sev as autistic so maybe he goes and has a meltdown in the bathrooms and it takes ages for him to calm down. Just for Draco parallels I think it would be fun if he went to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom for this. He might do this a lot, so people outside assume it's just her crying when actually it's him. Maybe that's what Muffliato was also for

He darts back to the Slytherin dorms, and falls asleep for a while (I'm unclear on whether the Transfiguration exam was the next day or next few days, or the same day; if he went to that exam that day I expect he did very poorly, or at least substantially more poorly than he otherwise would've done. Every chair scrape had him jumping in fear, and the Marauders thought this was hilarious)

Lily's the the one he wants to talk to most, and obviously that doesn't happen. He doesn't care what the Slytherins make of it if he sleeps outside the Gryffindor common room, because he knows it was wrong and his biggest mistake - but he's so desperate that he doesn't even care that James et al. might be in there, too, or could come out at any moment. He just wants his friend

(and quick disclaimer just bc this is tumblr I don't think she was under any obligation to accept his apology - but from his pov he was under a lot of stress in that moment, the result of the culmination of the werewolf prank and 5 years of stress where lately Lily had already in his mind started to take the Marauders' side over his, nobody had actually helped him and when she came along she spent more time talking to James than actually helping Sev. He reacted viciously as a result, maybe as self-preservation bc there were Slytherins in the crowd who also weren't helping him, maybe intentionally to 'return the favour' for her perceived apathy and distancing herself from him). It was a messy and cruel situation all around

he now delves more deeply into the DE cult crowd, since he's not getting any companionship or positive attention anywhere else, and as far as he can see, who else can protect him and give him some control over his life?

he continues to hex James when provoked (James arguably keeps their final year spats from Lily which wouldn't be necessary if James hadn't instigated them, not to mention how monumentally poor a choice it would be to hex James first since he's either a prefect or a head boy or whatever; he's the hare and Sirius and James are the hunters; even when he thought Sirius was the one who betrayed Lily, Severus still holds back in PoA, unlike Remus and Sirius who were about to kill Peter with like, no deliberation at all)

he's clearly still deeply upset, even traumatised, by this as an adult; when Harry invades his privacy and sees the memory, he's shaking, he's enraged, he's uncharacteristically physically violent, and later he only reacts to Harry when Harry tries to use Levicorpus on him, not Sectumsempra or Crucio. If we're going by the movies AND the sketches JK did of Snape, there's some really cool metas about the shape/fit of his clothes and how they shield and protect him, the way he's batlike (inspiring the idea not just of robes as wings, but of wrapping the wings about the self almost protectively), alan rickman's choice to have all the buttons ties into this for me, etc.

I also think that he has some issues with how he looks, even if he pretends he's above it all, but that's just me. The marauders insulted his appearance (greasy, large nose) and those things might be true, so he hates it, but changing it would be admitting that he hates it. Maybe that's why he pretends he's above it all, all the time; he's massively insecure about everything, from his place in the world to his looks (everything except his intellect and magic), but he's not willing to let anyone perceive him as weak and vulnerable

whew i'm finally done

So I'm looking for some fics that finish SWM or headcanons, to see how far people think James went and how Snape coped and what he did between that afternoon and the evening where he saw Lily (bonus points if it talks about how he still seems to be affected in adulthood)

So if anyone can give recommendations or headcanons I'd really appreciate it!

[the-bugs-under-ur-skin]

Yandere Kel, Aubrey, Sunny, Hero and Basil jealousy HCs - Omori

the whole gang is here. i honestly love writing jealousy hcs, they’re very fun! thanks for all of the requests, i’m glad you guys like my blog! :)

[yandere Kel x reader]

-Kel is so bad at reading the room, it’s crazy

-if someone was flirting with you, he wouldn’t be able to immediately tell

-but when he does he’s completely ready to throw hands

-he’s more vocal about it when you both are actually dating, straight up threatening the guy in front of you

-he’ll also act overly loving towards you

-of course, some things would change if you’re relationship were still platonic

-mostly just less kissing, though

-other than that, it’s still a lot of flirting and arms around shoulders

-also hands around necks if the guy flirting with you doesn’t take the hint

-he’d also feel bad if he got jealous because he thinks that if he got jealous that means he wasn’t being romantic enough

-Kel is still very childish, but he does make an effort by going on more dates and being more clingy

-but other than someone explicitly trying to steal you away, he probably wouldn’t get jealous very often

-he mostly just focuses on what you’re doing, not what the people around you are doing

-but he would never hesitate to sock someone for you

[yandere Aubrey x reader]

-definitely gets jealous very easily, all you have to do is get along with someone else

-she doesn’t even trust her own posy

-Aubrey constantly fears that you’ll leave, but would always try to hide it

-but when she gets jealous she won’t hesitate to scream and shout at whoever she’s irritated at

-it doesn’t matter who is making her jealous she’ll always swear and threaten them

-and of course,, you know,,,

-*spiked bat noises*

-yeah, she’ll definitely beat whoever into oblivion

-if she’s jealous of someone you’re close with, she’ll tell them to scram but will go after them once you’re gone they’ll be dead

-hopefully you don’t connect the death of your friend to the jealous rage of your gf

-or if you do, don’t call her out for it

-she’s one of the worst when jealous, not only will she be ruthless to the person she’s jealous of, she’ll also keep you away from others for awhile

-she’ll start to invite you to hang out once it’s late out or go out to more secluded areas of the park

-you don’t mind, right? i mean, you are all hers after all...

[yandere Sunny x reader]

-*silent yet intense glaring*

-he also gets jealous often since he’s very lonely and your attention was one of the most (if not the most) amazing things to ever happen to him

-so when you give that to someone else, he’ll take it as a challenge 

-Sunny is probably the most unhinged when jealous

-he’s very willing to use weapons in broad daylight and he’ll also get the messiest

-also a bit of verbal fighting will be mixed in

-he’ll probably taunt them just to make them try and initiate the fight

-but one thing’s for certain, he’s not backing down

-he won’t really speak to you directly about his jealousy, but will hold your hand for the rest of the day

-hold him please, it’s all he needs right now

-also help him hide the body because you don’t want your boy going to jail

-he’s also the one to get jealous the most, hands down

-like, he isn’t the most insecure of the group, but he’s the most insecure of the group who lets you talk to others

-it’s kind of funny, he always tries his best to let you have friends but he ends up scaring them all away (on purpose, too. no way he just accidentally cut you’re friends with his knife)

-but believe me, he isn’t trying to scare you away

-he’s actually doing the opposite! he’s getting rid of people who want to ruin your relationship

-so please don’t leave him... please?

[yandere Hero x reader]

-Hero will absolutely shove in their face how close you both are

-”hi, i’m s/o boyfriend/best friend” and then continue the conversation like that didn’t even happen

-Hero will also try to act like he’s the cool and charming one, just casually sliding in and showing that he’s yours and you won’t take anyone else

-but he really does just come across like an insecure maniac

-if they’re some sort of catcaller or flirt, you better believe they’re about to get a few punches thrown their way

-he’s one of the more protective of the group even if he isn’t as intense as Sunny or Aubrey

-but he would appreciate it greatly if you bandaged up his fists afterwards

-he always tries to get you out of there, not wanting any negative attention on you

-he’s also the most embarrassed about getting jealous and will apologize to you after for getting so worked up

-it doesn’t really change too much though because he’s definitely just going to jealous again and then he’ll act the same way again

-but he’s also the best at holding it in, he’s always so close to not getting in a fight every time he gets jealous

-he’s probably the best to deal with though, because he’ll try to make up for his jealousy by pampering you and giving you some of his home baked food

-he really does just adore you more than he’s ever adored anything in his life, so it’s only natural that he’s going to think that everyone is just trying to take you away and keep you all to themselves

-but don’t worry darling! you know Hero would never let anyone take you away from him

[yandere Basil x reader]

-Basil is the most insecure but i’m sure y’all already knew

-he also definitely doesn’t have the guts to confront whoever is making him jealous so he just has to sit back and watch in horror

-and it’s even worse if he isn’t dating you!

-he can’t even run up to you and get you’re comfort because you wouldn’t even understand why he’s jealous

-but if you are dating, he’ll give you such a tight hug that you can’t breathe

-he’s absolutely terrified that you’re going to leave him forever and that he can’t do anything about it

-sometimes when he gets jealous from someone and he’s right next to you, he’ll hold you’re hand very tightly to try and hint that he wants you and him to get out of there as quickly as possible

-sometimes you’ll even get a quiet “...can we go please?”

-but that’s usually if you’ve been out for so long that he’s basically drowning in jealousy

-Basil does frequently get jealous, the only thing is that he basically always keeps you inside

-and if there’s no one to get jealous of than there’s no problem, right? :)

-i bet you that he sometimes will get himself jealous with his own thoughts though, so i guess you’re never safe :/

-probably the worst for you to deal with honestly 

-like, with everyone else, they’ll usually bother the person that’s making them jealous the most

-but since Basil is so scared of confronting them, he’ll just focus all of his jealousy on you

-that means you have to sit through all of Basil’s crying and begging for you to never leave every time you try to get up from wherever you and him are sitting

-and honestly, it’ll probably stay like that for awhile

-just him clinging onto you for dear life, acting as if you’ll disappear at any moment

-and it’ll stay that way until he feels better, and then you both can go outside again!

-and then of course he’ll get jealous again, because this whole thing is just one never ending cycle

[kathonydaily]

Looking back at the season I don’t think Mary was present for any of the times that Anthony was courting Edwina (the races, promenade, Aubrey hall) so it makes sense when she tells Edwina during the haldi that Anthony adores her. She’s really only heard it as second hand accounts. I wish they made more comments saying she has a headache like she does when the Sheffield’s are coming to dinner bc then it would make more sense on her lack of understanding. I feel like if the writers played more into Mary having anxiety about being back in London and really shoe isn’t us, then so many people wouldn’t bash her

I agree that we needed more scenes with Mary, in fact I think she was the character who had less voice during the entire season, and was the least fleshed out. Having said that, however, I don't get people bashing her or saying that she treated Kate differently than Edwina or things like that.

Truth was that she was barely even there for Edwina too. She let Kate and Lady D. managing all the suitors and prospects for her daughter, not truly noticing what was happening in front of her. In the flashbacks we saw Violet not being there for her kids for a while, but since in present time she is (even if in all the wrong ways at times), it means that at some point she snapped out of her depression and immense pain/grief. I don't think that Mary truly ever did. And the moment they returned to England, well it got even worse because that place carried many memories and things unresolved for her. Her strained relationship with her parents, the places where her and her late husband met and courted and so on. So she wasn't there for BOTH her daughters, letting Kate doing all the job with Edwina. And yes, the kinda toxic relationship between the sisters was in great part Mary's fault, but she also recognized it at the end.

I feel the failed wedding was important for her too, because it was the first time we saw her actually beginning to be there for her daughters. First with Edwina because eh, I could argue, she needed it more after the failed wedding, but also with Kate in ep7. In fact we saw her reprimanding Edwina for her behavior, being expecially close to Kate entering the art gallery, supporting her, and then blaming Anthony and herself for the situation.

So yeah, I think she should have been more fleshed out, like Violet for ex. but I also don't get people hating on her or something like that. She was a human being who was traumatized and fucked up because of it, like a lot of characters this season did. But her heart was in the right place and I do believe her when she said that she loved her daughters equally, and never thought of Kate any less just because she basically adopted her. Just because Kate FELT that way, it doesn't mean it was true.

[fatliberation]

I’m Abandoning Body Positivity and Here’s Why

In short: it’s fatphobic.

“A rallying cry for a shift in societal norms has now become the skinny girl’s reassurance that she isn’t really fat. Fatness, through this lens of ‘body positivity’, remains the worst thing a person can be.” (Kayleigh Donaldson)

•  •  •

I have always had a lot of conflicting opinions about the body positivity movement, but it’s much more widely known (and accepted, go figure) than the fat liberation movement, so I often used the two terms interchangeably in conversation about anti-fatness. But the longer I’ve been following the body positivity movement, the more I’ve realized how much it has strayed from its fat lib origins. It has been hijacked; deluded to center thin, able, white, socially acceptable bodies.

Bopo’s origins are undoubtedly grounded in fat liberation. The fat activists of the 1960s paved the way for the shred of size acceptance we see in media today, initially protesting the discrimination and lack of access to equal opportunities for fat people specifically. This early movement highlighted the abuse, mental health struggles, malpractice in the medical field, and called for equal pay, equal access, equal respect, an end to fatphobic structures and ideas. It saddens me that it hasn’t made much progress in those regards. 

Today, the #bopo movement encapsulates more the idea of loving your own body versus ensuring that individuals regardless of their weight and appearance are given equal opportunities in the workplace, schools, fashion and media. Somehow those demands never made it outside of the ‘taboo’ category, and privileged people would much more readily accept the warm and fuzzy, sugar-coated message of “love yourself!” But as @yrfatfriend once said, this idea reduces fat people’s struggles to a problem of mindset, rather than a product of external oppressors that need to be abolished in order for fat people to live freely.

That generalized statement, “love yourself,” is how a movement started by fat people for the rights of fat people was diluted so much, it now serves a thin model on Instagram posting about how she has a tummy roll and cellulite on her thighs - then getting praised for loving her body despite *gasp!* its minor resemblance to a fat body. 

Look. Pretty much everyone has insecurities about their bodies, especially those of us who belong to marginalized groups. If you don’t have body issues, you’re a privileged miracle, but our beauty-obsessed society has conditioned us to want to look a certain way, and if we have any features that the western beauty standard considers as “flaws,” yeah! We feel bad about it! So it’s not surprising that people who feel bad about themselves would want to hop on a movement that says ‘hey, you’re beautiful as you are!’ That’s a message everyone would like to hear. Any person who has once thought of themselves as less than beautiful now feels that this movement is theirs. And everyone has insecurities, so everyone feels entitled to the safe space. And when a space made for a minority includes the majority, the cycle happens again and the majority oppresses the minority. What I’m trying to explain here is that thin people now feel a sense of ownership over body positive spaces. 

Regardless of how badly thin people feel about their bodies, they still experience thin privilege. They can sit down in a theater or an airplane without even thinking about it, they can eat in front of others without judgement, they can go the doctor with a problem and actually have it fixed right away, they can find cute clothes in their size with ease, they do not suffer from assumptions of laziness/failure based on stereotype, they see their body type represented everywhere in media, the list goes on and on. They do not face discrimination based off of the size of their body. 

Yet diet culture and fatphobia affects everyone, and of course thin people do still feel bad about the little fat they have on their bodies. But the failure to examine WHY they feel bad about it, is what perpetuates fatphobia within the bopo movement. They’re labeled “brave” for showing a pinch of chub, yet fail to address what makes it so acceptably daring, and how damaging it is to people who are shamed for living in fat bodies. Much like the rest of society, thin body positivity is still driven by the fear of fat, and does nothing to dismantle fatphobia within structures or within themselves.

Evette Dionne sums it up perfectly in her article, “The Fragility of Body Positivity: How a Radical Movement Lost Its Way.”

“The body-positive media economy centers these affirming, empowering, let-me-pinch-a-fat-roll-to-show-how-much-I-love-myself stories while failing to actually challenge institutions to stop discriminating against fat people. More importantly, most of those stories center thin, white, cisgender, heterosexual women who have co-opted the movement to build their brands. Rutter has labeled this erasure ‘Socially Acceptable Body Positivity.’

“On social media, it actually gets worse for fat bodies: We’re not just being erased from body positivity, fat women are being actively vilified. Health has become the stick with which to beat fat people with [sic], and the benchmark for whether body positivity should include someone” (Dionne).

Ah, yes. The medicalization of fat bodies, and the moralization of health. I’ve ranted about this before. Countless comments on posts of big women that say stuff like “I’m all for body positivity, but this is just unhealthy and it shouldn’t be celebrated.” I’ve heard writer/activist Aubrey Gordon once say that body positivity has become something like a shield for anti-fatness. It’s anti-fatness that has been repackaged as empowerment. It’s a striking double-standard. Fat people are told to be comfortable in their bodies (as if that’s what’s going to fix things) but in turn are punished when they’re okay with being fat. Make it make sense.

Since thin people feel a sense of ownership over body positive spaces, and they get to hide behind “health” when they are picking and choosing who can and cannot be body positive, they base it off of who looks the most socially acceptable. And I’m sure they aren’t consciously picking and choosing, it comes from implicit bias. But the socially acceptable bodies they center are small to medium fat, with an hourglass shape. They have shaped a new beauty standard specifically FOR FAT PEOPLE. (Have you ever seen a plus sized model with neck fat?? I’m genuinely asking because I have yet to find one!) The bopo movement works to exclude and silence people who are on the largest end of the weight spectrum. 

Speaking of exclusion, let’s talk about fashion for a minute.

For some reason, (COUGH COUGH CAPITALISM) body positivity is largely centered around fashion. And surprise surprise, it’s still not inclusive to fat people. Fashion companies get a pat on the back for expanding their sizing two sizes up from what they previously offered, when they are still leaving out larger fat people completely. In general, clothing companies charge more for clothes with more fabric, so people who need the largest sizes are left high and dry. It’s next to impossible to find affordable clothes that also look nice. Fashion piggybacks on the bopo movement as a marketing tactic, and exploits the very bodies it claims to be serving. (Need I mention the time Urban Outfitters used a "curvy” model to sell a size it doesn’t even carry?)

The movement also works to exclude and silence fat Black activists.

In her article, “The Body Positivity Movement Both Takes From and Erases Fat Black Women” Donyae Coles explains how both white people and thin celebrities such as Jameela Jamil profit from the movement that Black women built.

“Since long before blogging was a thing, fat Black women have been vocal about body acceptance, with women like Sharon Quinn and Marie Denee, or the work of Sonya Renee Taylor with The Body Is Not An Apology. We’ve been out here, and we’re still here, but the overwhelming face of the movement is white and thin because the mainstream still craves it, and white and thin people have no problem with profiting off the work of fat, non-white bodies.”

“There is a persistent belief that when thin and/or white people enter the body positive realm and begin to repeat the messages that Black women have been saying for years in some cases, when they imitate the labor that Black women have already put in that we should be thankful that they are “boosting” our message. This completely ignores the fact that in doing so they are profiting off of that labor. They are gaining the notoriety, the mark of an expert in something they learned from an ignored Black woman” (Coles).

My next essay will go into detail about this and illuminate key figures who paved the way for body acceptance in communities of color. 

The true purpose of this movement has gotten completely lost. So where the fuck do we go from here? 

We break up with it, and run back to the faithful ex our parents disapproved of. We go back to the roots of the fat liberation movement, carved out for us by the fat feminists, the queer fat activists, the fat Black community, and the allies it began with. Everything they have preached since the 1960s and 70s is one hundred percent applicable today. We get educated. We examine diet culture through a capitalist lens. We tackle thin, white-supremacist systems and weight based discrimination, as well as internalized bias. We challenge our healthcare workers to unlearn their bias, treat, and support fat patients accordingly. We make our homes and spaces accessible and welcoming to people of any size, or any (dis)ability. “We must first protect and uplift people in marginalized bodies, only then can we mandate self-love” (Gordon).

Think about it. In the face of discrimination, mistreatment, and emotional abuse, we as a society are telling fat people to love their bodies, when we should be putting our energy toward removing those fatphobic ideas and structures so that fat people can live in a world that doesn’t require them to feel bad about their bodies. It’s like hitting someone with a rock and telling them not to bruise!

While learning to love and care for the body that you’re in is important, I think that body positivity also fails in teaching that because it puts even more emphasis on beauty. Instead of saying, “you don’t have to be ‘beautiful’ to be loved and appreciated,” its main lesson is that “all bodies are beautiful.” We live in a society obsessed with appearance, and it is irresponsible to ignore the hierarchy of beauty standards that exist in every space. Although it should be relative, “beautiful” has been given a meaning. And that meaning is thin, abled, symmetric, and eurocentric. 

Beauty and ugliness are irrelevant, made-up constructs. People will always be drawn to you no matter what, so you deserve to exist in your body without struggling to conform to an impossible and bigoted standard. Love and accept your body for YOURSELF AND NO ONE ELSE, because you do not exist to please the eyes of other people. That’s what I wish we were teaching instead. Radical self acceptance!

As of today, the ultimate message of the body positivity movement is: Love your body “despite its imperfections.” Or people with “perfect and imperfect bodies both deserve love.” As long as we are upholding the notion that there IS a perfect body that looks a certain way, and every body that falls outside of that category is imperfect, we are upholding white supremacy, eugenics, anti-fatness, and ableism.

[sunnysviolin]

Omotober Day Five- Photograph

“That's the thing about trust. It's like broken glass. You can put it back together, but the cracks are always visible--like scars that never fully heal.” ― Hope Collier,

Aubrey was almost out the door when her mother dropped the bombshell on her. Usually her mom wasn’t even awake when she was leaving for school, she was still sleeping off whatever bender she had gone on the night before. She was up today, in a stained robe with unkempt hair, but she was up.

“We’re going to visit Flora for dinner tonight. Go home on Basil’s bus, I don’t want you trying to skip out on this,” Past Aubrey would have been elated. Not only was her mom up, but they were going to see her best friend for dinner. Now she growled in irritation and rolled her eyes.

“Mom-”

“Aubrey, don’t even think about starting up,” Her mother cut her off with a warning look. Aubrey shut her mouth but hot anger lit up in her veins. She bit her tongue to stop from screaming as her mother continued her lecturing, “That woman is old and her time is coming soon. Respect thy elders, it’s the godly thing to do,”

The hypocrisy of it filled Aubrey’s mouth with poison, and she balled her hands into fists to stop them from shaking. Her mom loved to spout religious crap like this all the time, acting like saying scripture somehow equated to being a good person. Aubrey would have loved to ask her what part of her oh so precious book told her that getting drunk every night was godly, but if she started that fight again she would never make it to school on time.

“Whatever,” Aubrey muttered in lieu of her actual thoughts, pushing past her mother and out the front door. Her mother’s little lecture had taken long enough that the bus stop was completely empty, and that only made Aubrey’s mood even worse. She seized her scooter and whipped it around, putting all of her mental frustration into the physical act of riding to school and away from her house as fast as possible.

The ride did nothing to alleviate Aubrey’s anger and a dark storm cloud hung around her through every period. Students gave her a wide berth and teachers looked at her with distrustful eyes. They were all expecting something to happen, and she hated them for it. They always expected the worst of her. Kel had tried approaching her during their shared study hall, and she ignored him till he left. He wasn’t a true friend, he didn’t really care about her. Aubrey had to remember that, or she would fall for his tricks again.

By the end of the day, Aubrey was exhausted. To the rest of the world, she seemed just as bitter and angry as she was when she got to school, but it was just an easy front that she put out to keep them all away. Truthfully, she just wanted to go home, climb the stairs to her room, and curl up with her bunny (). She wanted to block out the world and all of the fake people in it, forget about false friends and the never ending loneliness that threatened to crush her at any point.

She couldn’t. She had to go to Basil’s.

She found Basil waiting outside, off in a corner. He was standing slightly hunched over, like he was trying to disappear right where he stood. Absolutely pathetic, but that was Basil. A weakling who had used Aubrey. Kel was with him, clearly talking at Basil and not to him. Basil wasn’t even paying attention, just staring off at the trees and playing with his fingers the way Aubrey hated. She walked over in long purposeful strides, putting herself in the middle between the two boys.

“Get lost,” Aubrey snapped, hoping that Kel would argue right back with her. It would be a good outlet, something that would get rid of the storm cloud. Basil was no fun to fight with, he just cried and apologized. At least Kel would do it properly.

But luck was not on her side. Kel didn’t fire back with a harsh retort or even give her a glare. He just sighed and rolled his eyes, something that instantly set alarm bells of resentment ringing in her head. She hated when he acted higher and mightier, rising above her like he was too good to fight with her. It was the same as her mother’s religious rambling, just another hypocrite who thought they were better than they were and judged Aubrey for not playing their game.

“I’ll see you later, Basil ,” Kel said, deliberately putting emphasis on ignoring that Aubrey even existed. The urge to kick out his legs and pound him into the dirt was overwhelming, but the sound of the buses starting to rumble cut off that train before it left the station. She growled and yanked Basil along with her by the wrist, walking over to his bus and climbing the high steps. Aubrey practically threw him into an open three seater and launched her bag in after, sitting as close to the aisle as she could and as far away from him as possible.

She didn’t want them, but as she sat on the bus with her former oldest friend, memories of all the times they had done this before came to her one by one. They had always chosen a two seater before, they hadn’t needed the room of three. They would cram close together and read the same book, or chat about all the things they could do when they got to his house. They had almost missed their stop multiple times because they were so lost in their conversation, and oftentimes they had to shout for the bus driver to hold on so they could get off. It was funny, sweet to the point of saccharine.

The thoughts made Aubrey sick now. She tried to pretend it was just the righteous fury she obviously should have felt at their betrayal, but there was something else in there. A thing with dark claws that dug into her chest and made itself known with pain. The word for it sat heavy in her mind, there but unspoken, pushed to some long forgotten corner that she never looked at and never wanted to. Aubrey had enough trouble grieving the dead, she had no need for grieving the living too. The bus reached their stop and she hopped off without looking back. Basil would follow or he wouldn’t, she didn’t care either way.

“Aubrey!” Flora tottered towards them down the sidewalk, her cane clutched firmly in her right hand. Her white hair was pulled up in her signature bun, and her dress was a pretty floral blue that matched her eyes.

She pulled Aubrey into a hug once the young girl was close enough, holding her in a tight squeeze. Aubrey put her hands around Flora, but she didn’t hug her back. Flora was fragile, her bones easily felt through paper dry skin. Aubrey hoped she never got old enough to feel this breakable, but the hug was still warm and comforting. Flora smelled like old lady soap and dried flowers and clean laundry, a smell that Aubrey loved for how safe it made her feel, and hated for how fleetingly often she got to experience it.

When Flora pulled back she kept her hands on Aubrey’s upper arms, looking the girl up and down. Aubrey resisted the urge to squirm, holding her breath as the old woman appraised her. She hadn’t seen Basil’s grandmother since the funeral almost two years ago, and she knew Flora hadn’t seen her shocking pink hair yet, or the new styles she liked to wear. Aubrey began to steel herself for a long winded speech about respecting her body like a temple, the kind her mom liked to preach after her second bottle of wine.

“You got taller,” Flora commented, turning around and leading the way back to the house, “Come inside, I made some snacks for you two,”

Aubrey slowly let out the breath she had been keeping, letting Basil walk in front of her and towards his house. Flora had never been a mean spirited woman or purposefully judgemental, but Aubrey’s threshold for trust was a lot lower than it used to be. Her anger began to bleed out and shame took its place. Aubrey usually thought the worst of people, and that didn’t bother her because she was usually proven right in the end, but there were exceptions. Flora had never done anything to earn her ire, even if her grandson had.

Aubrey followed them into their home, taking her shoes off at the entrance and looking around. Nothing had changed really, flowers and plants still hung in pots all around and the bookshelf was still packed to the brim. There was a pot bubbling on the stove and vegetables half cut on a board next to it. Flora gestured towards the table and slowly made her way to the fridge, pulling out a carton of strawberries and two oranges. She made quick work of the fruits and was soon putting a platter of cut up pieces of fruit between the two children.

“You two can finish your homework here while I finish up the grub. Dinner is going to be in an hour and a half. I know five o’clock is a little early for you youngins, but I like to be in bed by six!” The old woman laughed at her own nonexistent joke, the sound creaky and roughened with age. She had to stop to cough halfway through, but she waved away Basil’s worried gaze and reaching arms, “Please dear I’m fine. Aubrey you have to teach my grandbaby here how to relax more and just enjoy life,”

Aubrey didn’t respond, using digging through her backpack as an excuse to not have to acknowledge what Basil’s grandmother had said. It was less of a hassle to pretend that she hadn’t heard then to lie and act like she cared if Basil was uptight or not. Basil also didn’t say anything, he just started his work in silence. Flora’s genial mood faltered ever so slightly, but she took their dampened mood in stride.

“Okay then, while you two mope, I’ll keep working on dinner,”

Flora went over to the kitchen proper and turned on the radio, listening to some talk show that Aubrey’s mom also liked. The girl settled into her seat and began to flip through her work, picking and choosing which assignments she would do and which ones she would blow off. There was no point to doing some of them, the teacher was going to fail her anyway, so why should she try? At least if she put all her efforts into one or two classes with cool teachers, she might pass. It was almost dinner time when her peace was broken without her permission

“Did you understand the earth science homework?”

Aubrey looked up, shooting Basil a derisive look for even bothering to speak. He flinched away from her, but held firm, waiting for an answer. She didn’t even want to bother, but she knew Flora was nearby and probably listening, and she would have questions if Aubrey ignored her grandson, or worse, told him to shut up.

“It was easy,” Aubrey tersely replied, putting her anger into her pen. Her words started to come out jagged and uneven, but she didn’t care. It felt good, “It’s just identifying minerals,”

“I don’t get it,” Basil murmured, more to himself than to her. He scratched something out on his worksheet and fisted a hand in his hair, “She explained this over and over, I don’t understand why I don’t get it,”

Aubrey watched the display of his anxiety for a few moments before letting out an exaggerated sigh, letting her head flop back against the chair. It wasn’t even fun to watch him get upset, it just made her feel bad, which only made her angrier. She pushed her chair away from the table, enjoying the loud screech it gave and how uncomfortable it made Basil. Then she stood and walked around the table, leaning over him and getting in his space.

“Which one are you confused on?” She demanded, and he pointed to the question with a shaking finger. She looked at the problem and rolled her eyes. It wasn’t even one of the difficult ones. Their teacher had given them a table of potential minerals and then a series of questions with specific properties. They had to correctly pick which mineral went to which list of properties.

“Okay so you already got half of them, so you just have diamond, muscovite, talc, and gypsum left,” Aubrey stated, going over the options, “The mineral cleaves into thin sheets, has a white streak, and a pearly luster. Which out of those ones has those traits?”

Basil didn’t respond, still shaking from their proximity. He stammered out some unintelligible words, his hands clasping together around his middle. Before he could devolve into an entire anxiety attack, and more importantly before Flora noticed what was going on, Aubrey would have to deal with this

“Would you quit that? I’m not gonna bite,” She barked, and he flinched further away. Great. Aubrey forced herself to take a breath and count to ten, the thing that the annoying school counselor had showed her that almost never worked. Aubrey tried again.

“Okay instead of thinking about it that way. Let’s go with which ones don’t have those features. Does diamond have a streak?”

“No it’s harder than the streak plate,” Basil responded, which was what their teacher had said word for word. Aubrey had started off with a question she knew he would know the answer to, because Mrs. Tommen had made Basil repeat her when she thought he wasn’t paying attention earlier that day.

“So then obviously it can’t be diamond.” Aubrey said, unable to take all of the snottiness in her tone. It had to be good enough, besides he should know it was stupid that he needed help with this.

“The rest have a white streak though,” Basil said after a quick check of his notes, “It could be any of them,”

Aubrey briefly considered banging her head against the wall. Anything to get her away from rocks and this idiot. She walked around to her side of the table and went back to her own work, putting her head close to the paper.

“Look at the rest of the traits. They don’t all have the same traits. Just do it that way, and quit bugging me,” She hissed. Basil wilted, but he focused back on his work.

“Thanks for the help,” It came out quiet and timid, but it was there. Aubrey jerked her head in a nod, and the two of them lapsed back into silent solo work until Aubrey’s mother knocked on the door. She was dressed in a purple dress that had seen better days and came bearing store bought cookies that still had a sale sticker on them. Her hair was done, but flyaways surrounded her head like a dust cloud, and her smile was entirely fake.

Flora came over and greeted Aubrey’s mom with enthusiasm, thanking her for  her generosity and guiding her to the table. They made small talk as Basil and Aubrey gathered their things and Basil set the table. How her mom’s job was going, how was Flora’s health, all the usual things Aubrey couldn’t care less about.

The conversation only got more boring when dinner started. When they had done this in the past, Basil and Aubrey easily entertained one another with jokes and teasing jabs and barely noticed the time passing. Now each minute was an hour and Aubrey had achieved levels of boredom previously never reached. Aubrey caught Basil’s eye and nodded towards the doorway to the bedrooms, hoping he caught her hint.

“Um G-Granny?” Basil stuttered, grabbing her attention, “May Aubrey and I be excused?”

Flora looked at both of their plates and nodded, patting Basil on the arm. They gathered up their plates and put them in the sink. As she was about to finally escape, Aubrey’s mother crooked a finger in her direction. She walked to her mom and was pulled down roughly by the arm. It was nothing like the gentle pats that Flora gave Basil, but a clear warning.

“Behave,” Her mother said in a harsh whisper, and Aubrey gritted her teeth.

She hated that word. She hated her mother. She hated this whole stupid dinner. Aubrey didn’t bother to answer as she pulled away from her mom. Her mom didn’t want an answer, she wanted a doll for a daughter. A pretty perfect doll that made small talk and smiled at jokes that weren’t funny and did whatever she asked. Aubrey stole away from the kitchen table, walking into Basil’s room and shutting the door. She didn’t like spending time with him anymore, and she certainly didn’t want to talk to him, but anything was better than being reminded just how much her own mother didn’t like her.

Basil’s room was also in a stasis, unchanged and unevolved from when she last saw it. The only difference was a blooming white orchid, the petals spread around the stem like angel wings. An orchid that was cared for meticulously, surrounded in the dying light of the day with a golden halo. An orchid that stopped Aubrey in her tracks when her eyes landed on it.

Aubrey had only seen orchids like this in one place. She had assumed that the Pastor did it, or some of the church ladies. She knew that the auxiliary had a circulating list of volunteers that went to tend to the graveyard. Aubrey had even considered that the strange man who always seemed to be in the cemetery might put them there next to her.

She knew Hero didn’t visit. He never went anywhere near the church, hadn’t in years. She didn’t know or care what Kel did, and Sunny didn’t even leave the house anymore. Aubrey had thought she was the only one that visited, the last person that even cared. For some reason her brain had completely blocked out the logical idea that Basil, who loved flowers more than anything, would be the one to carefully tend to a difficult to grow bloom.

“You put these by her?” Aubrey asked quietly, tracing a finger over the delicate petals. Neither of them needed Aubrey to say who “her” was, there was only one person left that connected them. Basil nodded, keeping his eyes down and away from his former friend. Aubrey continued to stare down at the flower, her mind racing faster than she could catch up.

“It’s a white egret,” Basil said, sitting on his bed near her and looking at the flower, “It means my thoughts will follow you into your dreams. I thought it was...I thought she might like it,”

She would have. Mari would have thought it was incredibly sweet, and she would have been able to tell Basil so. She wasn’t like Aubrey who spewed hate without a care in the world but who could never manage to say something kind without stuttering. She would have been able to bring them all together so effortlessly, there would have been no issue. None of this would have ever happened in the first place.

Aubrey was adrift, alone in a sea of confusion that sent wave after wave to try and drown her. She wanted to sit on the bed next to Basil, wanted to finally crack open and let everything out. She could trust him to listen, trust him to care. He was the only one besides her who still cared enough to visit. She should do that. That would be good. But she couldn’t get her feet to move.

“Aubrey?” Basil said, hesitant but still reaching out. She pulled away from the orchid, stumbling back and looking around. A thick leather bound book in the middle of his bookshelf caught her eye, and she wandered over to it. She knew this book.

“Aubrey, don’t.” Basil ordered, his words meaning nothing to her. She could hear him say it, she could even be mildly shocked that he even dared to talk to her like that, when he had been so timid before, but none of it really reached her. Aubrey pulled his photo album out from the shelf, holding it in her hands and opening it.

Instead of the soft faded colors of their childhood, there was black. There was black over Sunny’s birthday, black over her pink raincoat. She could barely make out Hero and Kel arm wrestling, and she only knew which pictures were from the beach based on the small bits of yellow that peaked through the marker staining the memory.

He had scribbled over Mari’s picture.

Aubrey had never had an out of body experience like this. She was always solid, always grounded. Even when she had heard what Mari did, there was no part of her that was able to check out of the situation. Now she was high in the sky, somewhere distant and far where she could only watch as her heart was broken all over again.

A rough tug jerked her back into her body. Basil had snatched the album back from her, his eyes wild and blown wide open. She couldn’t even respond, she had no idea what to do first- steal the album back, or kill him.

“Get out!” Basil shrieked, holding the book against his chest and falling to his knees. She didn’t want to. She wanted to hit him, to feel his bones breaking under her fists and hear him crying out in pain. She could hurt him worse than he hurt her, make it so she wasn’t the only one suffering. He did this. He was the one who did this, and she wouldn’t be to blame for that. She wanted to wring his neck, to break down and start sobbing.

She wanted to run.

Aubrey shouted in rage, beyond words and beyond any outward expression of the emotions roiling within. She bodily threw the door open, running past the table and out the door. She heard her mother and Flora calling for her, but she ignored them, slamming the door and continuing to sprint away. She got back to her house in record time, not bothering to close the front door as she climbed up the ladder to her room as quickly as possible.

Aubrey locked the trap door to her room, finally letting out the scream that had been building up within her. No one was there to hear it but her bunny, and she was currently hiding in her hut from Aubrey’s meltdown. Aubrey flung herself onto her bed and buried her face in her pillows, screaming again. She could hear her mother coming into the house now, screeching in rage at Aubrey’s dramatic exit, catapulting insults left and right about Aubrey. The girl wasn’t listening and didn’t care. Her mind was focused on one thing and one thing only. She would get that album back from Basil, whatever it took to do so, and she would never, never, trust him again.

[stevenbasic]

By Tuesday afternoon, I was beside myself. Seeing patients again, but distraught. The office was a hot mess - so many new girls, crowding the hallways and desks, mostly being trained by people who also didn’t know what they were doing. My schedule was a hot mess - they’d overbooked me, with all the patients I was supposed to see the day before but had been rescheduled. And my mind was a hot mess - surrounded by not only all these new women (I’d kept my head down, sneaking into my office between patients when I could, and hadn’t really introduced myself to anyone yet) but also by the din of construction and random dudes walking down the hallways from time to time...

For some reason the presence of guys - mostly strapping young men in hard hats and t-shirts - upset me more than the bustle of bimbos giggling and pointing at me as I snuck from patient to patient. Maybe I was imagining it, but they seemed to look at me funny, askance, with a condemnatory eye. In particular I’d seen that one with the shaved head and tattoos, the tall one who’d disappeared with Melissa from the parking lot this morning. He was the one hanging around the most, glaring at me snidely. It was jealousy, I knew, that was tightening my chest whenever I saw him - an unreasonable reaction, not an emotion I should be feeling; Melissa was not mine to covet. But when, right around lunchtime, I saw the door to Melissa’s office open and him get pulled inside? Well, my blood began to roil. She’d made no effort to see me all day, and now this??

What were they doing in there?? Would she be having him take more pictures of her for Instagram? Would she be changing into new outfits for her followers, bikinis and lingerie? Would he be bending her over her desk and-

I knew I was being crazy, jealous, stupid. I had no reason to suspect any of this. But still I couldn’t stand it. So, finally, I broke. Right around 3pm.

“Can you tell Melissa I need to see her in my office?” I told Aubrey. She was standing behind the front desk with Brittni and Bobbi and three new people, training. It was pretty crowded back there.

“Of course, Doctor,” said the slight, pretty girl with the dark, pixie haircut. Aubrey had always been one of my best, most loyal employees. Quiet, serious when she needed to be. Less flighty for sure than most of the women that worked for me now. Take, for example, Brittni and Bobbi and now I guess these three new ones that I recognized from their jiggly applications; they were all looking at me and quietly giggling. Aubrey - since our front desk manager had left - was trying to get everyone trained. Piles of paperwork were everywhere.

“Okay I’ll head there right away,” I said, turning on my heel and knocking over a mound of charts from the counter.

“Don’t worry Doctor I’ll get that…” Aubrey offered, as I quickly moved away. Snickers followed in my wake.

Finding the hallway that led to my office mostly quiet, I turned a corner and -

“Oh, therrrre you are!” Melissa beamed, stopping me in my tracks. I felt my eyes go wide and my heart leap into my throat. I hadn’t really seen her since Friday and I was struck again by just how tall she was. Heels, yes, but my head came just up to her upper chest, if that. She made me feel smaller, in spades, than even the biggest of the construction workers.

She took a step towards me.

“Hey, uh….m-m-my office?” I stammered, trying to direct her but unable to keep my eyes from a quick trip up and down her unbelievable figure. The red heels, the sleek, bell-cuffed black pants, the tight, high-necked top. The hair, the eyes, and those knockers.

“Why don’t we talk here?” she returned, stepping in again closer to me.

I took a backpedal in retreat, turned my back to the wall. My eyes went wide again as she planted her right hand on the wall behind me, just above my head, between me and where I’d been heading. The door to my office was just steps away to my left, but now it might have been a mile. “o-okay, sure…” I yielded.

“So happy you finally want to say hi,” she said, with her left hand now coming up at my other side, placing itself just aside my head on the right. Now I was trapped, penned in, faced with a wall of woman. “I’ve missed youuuu…”

I swallowed dryly, suddenly assaulted with a barrage of feelings and a heady cloud of her captivating perfume. “Oh? Uh, y-yeah, haha, sorry,” I started, beginning to explain my absence, “I’ve been out of it. It’s, uh...all the construction, the noise. Kept me up last night, I’m exhausted…”

“Oh you poor thing…” she cooed, her smile turning crooked, weight shifting on her feet. Her right leg had bent, knee pushing in aggressively towards my groin. “I’m sorrrry…”

I couldn’t help but feel like I’d been captured, and she was possesively trifling with me - here, out in the open, in the hallway where anyone could see. But, from my position, I also couldn’t help but notice how her bra was just visible through her too-tight top, and that her breasts looked enormous today.

“uhhhhh….” I tried, struggling to remember what I’d wanted to talk to her about in the first place. Oh yeah.  “...and now they’re all milling around here. I saw, uh...one guy go into your office, earlier?”

“AJ? Oh...yeah, Angie’s ex,” Melissa explained, eyes narrowing, “She’s one of the new girls, a friend of mine, just broke up with him. He’s pretty upset. I invited him in for lunch...”

“Oh, uh, lunch?”

“Yes,” Melissa answered, a funny tone in her voice, “He bought a salad for me.”

Of course she’d like someone like him. He’s tall, strong, pretty good looking. He’s closer to her age...

Melissa looked down at me, regarded me, watched me thinking. “What’s wrong?” she finally asked.

“I...I don’t like him,” I too quickly answered, glancing down at the safety of my feet, speaking before thinking, “He...he looks at me funny.”

“Ohhhhhh….is that it?” She sounded amused.

I couldn’t tell her that, no, that wasn’t it, really. The sideways glances from these dudes I could handle. What I was struggling with, what I couldn’t tell her, was that he made me so fucking jealous. No way I could admit that, not to her. It would be weak, sniveling, petty and unprofessional. Plus I was married, still, and needed to hide my feelings for my new Office Manager deep deep deep. I could not let Melissa know how jealous I was.

But, when I looked up into her face, and she leaned down in to bring her face closer to mine, I could tell she saw right through me...

“Do they scare you? The big scary construction workers?” she giggled, teasing me, “Do they make you feel...unsafe? They are all so much bigger than you...” Overhead, one of the fluorescent lights flickered.

“Melissa, c’mon,” I pleaded, sounding much more pathetic than I wanted. I could tell she knew how I really felt, that it was my unreasonable jealousy that was making me upset. That fact? She loved it. But that I was denying it? For that, she wanted to torture me a bit.

“Awww did you hear that ladies?” Melissa called out, to the tall forms that had just started to appear in the hallway behind her, the voices I had begun to hear, “Dr. J here doesn’t like having all the big, noisy men in the building…”

Suddenly, two other girls appeared aside Melissa, one on each side. My eyes shot from one, redhead and statuesque in a blue top, to the other, chocolate-skinned and bosomy, dressed in green. Both were tall, taller than me, I couldn’t help but realize.

“I agree, I don’t like it either,” said the girl to Melissa’s left.

“Me neither,” said the other, “We should get rid of them…”

“Then it’d be just us…” the dark skinned girl replied.

“Dr. J,” Melissa said, in introduction, “this is Bianca…”

“Hi,” said the girl in blue, inching closer.

“...and this is Shanette.”

“Hi,” said the one in green, stepping in as well.

If I had been faced by a wall of woman before, it had now been fortified. Everywhere I looked, it was boob.

One of the overhead lights flickered again.

“We don’t like tall men, do we girls?” Melissa asked.

“Big guys? Yuckie,” followed Shanette.

“Yeah, gross,” said Bianca, her voice a natural purr, “We like our men short…”

“Helpless…”  cued Shanette, biting her plump lower lip as she looked down at me.

“...weak…” smiled Bianca.

“...needy,” Shanette finished.

By now, the three girls had me all but plastered to the wall. Melissa did nothing but smile down at me, apparently enjoying every moment of my well-deserved distress as these new girls soaked me in. Finally, though, she spoke. “See? No reason to be jealous, Doctor J-“

“I wasn’t jeal-“

“...it’s like I’ve been telling you,” she continued, speaking right over me, “It’s the thing. Girls want their men vulni these days, and you…”

“You are- rrrrrrrrrrr….” Bianca...growled?

“...you’re perfect,” Shanette giggled.

“And, no reason to be scared, sweetie,” Melissa assured me, though the current situation - I felt like I was about to be squashed into a girl sandwich - gave me more than enough to be frightened about, “You don’t have to worry about the big, mean men.”

“We’ll keep you safe,” Bianca promised, her eyes gleaming with portent, “don’t you give it another thought.”

“We’re all here to take care of you,” Shanette cooed, her expression growing softer by the moment, “it’s all we want…”

Unsure of what to say, I looked from one girl, to the other, and then back to Melissa. She merely smiled, closed her eyes to take a deep breath, and then opened them again as she spoke. “You see, sweetie? You see what kind of girls I hired for you?” she said, and leaned in to whisper down into my ear, “I did such a good job…”

Her melony breasts squashed into my neck, her voice in my ear.

“...won’t you just accept that?”

===========================

Thank you to good friend and master-of-the-craft AlexGTSArtist for his newest donations to our little story.;  these renders are fantastic. Please support him where you can.

More stuff at my Patreon

[voltrinityub]

Kel has Anxiety & Trust Issues (HC)

So, I had originally posted this headcanon on my twitter a few days ago and I’ve been thinking about it since. It’s a HC where I basically see Kel as having serious trust and anxiety issues during and after the event of the game. I’ll elaborate more below.

🛑 Slight Omori Spoilers ahead!

Kel would have anxiety & trust issues after the events of Mari’s death.

Since each of the main 5 coped differently and changed as a result of Mari’s death, this left Kel alone and at the discretion of others (and himself.)

In addition to being bullied by Aubrey’s gang and being the less favored brother in his family (since it’s evident and pointed out in the game that Kel’s family cares more about Hero than they do him), this left him in a lonely state.

We know from the game that he tries to stay active and positive with others, taking the form of helping them and be there for them despite not being able to read the room at times. Kel also tried his best to encourage his friends and be a positive influence for them.

Additionally, Kel also is friendly and likes to talk to people. He can easily make friends or start a conversation if needed but it is never more than casual conversation; nothing deeper.

This is likely just a façade on his part; a front he puts up for others (and himself).

After Mari’s death and drifting apart from the others, Kel didn’t really have anyone to rely on or anyone he could probably trust. (Granted, he was a kid and still wanted to help his friends but didn’t know how to. So he decided to stay positive and do what he can)

His parents weren’t reliable. Hero was close to him but became more closed-off. Aubrey found other friends and push everyone away. Basil started to act “weird” and avoided them. And sunny shut himself inside… Kel had no one to turn to.

So Kel took it upon himself to keep stay entertained and as happy as he can be, likely pushing down his true feelings and silently learning to be surface-leveled with everyone or else “what if they leave me and I get hurt?”

As a result of these forms of neglect and trauma, Kel moved on by keeping himself happy and active with playing sports and whatever else teenagers do. But despite all of this, deep down Kel still wanted to rekindle those connections he once had.

This went on for about 4 years during the game. Kel obviously matured and his insecurities and anxieties likely became more apparent to him, now being unable to trust or get close to anyone because “what if they hate me?” Or “what if they leave me again?”

This would also make Kel act more dismissive with people, not trying to get too deep or personal with them as a defense mechanism.

When he finally saw Sunny again after all those years, he was excited and happy about it. But the idea of likely rekindling those bonds again would be a scary thought for him, especially with Sunny moving away and even more so after they learn about The Truth. (This HC would extend past the events of the game but I’m only keeping it within the timeline for this post)

Due to everything Kel has experienced and learned, I like to HC that he has anxiety and trust issues with people since everyone left one another and coped their own ways after Mari’s death. He would have an irrational fear of getting close to people and then possibly leaving or hurting him again.

The poor kid really wants to be close to people and make friends and have fun, but likely stops himself from doing so.

We can also interpret Kel interacting with strangers and not being too personal with them or others as a result of his trauma and defense mechanism.

TL;DR

As a result of Mari’s death and all of his friends moving on and coping in their own ways, and in addition to emotional neglect from his friends and family, Kel would become more surface-level with others and have anxiety and trust issue about getting close to people. He would have a fear of others possibly hating him or leaving him.

Thanks for reading if you made it this far. Please see my original twitter post because it’s shorter and simpler 😂

I kinda made this in the spur of the moment but I hope you understand what I’m saying! I love Omori, and Kel is my favorite character, but he usually gets put off from the rest of the main gang. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this HC and let me know what you think! 😊

[ravenluvsppnbc]

BECHLOE WEEK DAY FOUR

today’s prompt was “near death” so this is what i did. what a clutz move beca. enjoy.

“The air smelled of grease and sweat. Gross. But it was a carnival, so it seemed less gross at that minute. The Bellas arrived at three, minus Chloe, who unfortunately had to work. The sun was shining and children ran all around. 

The Bellas played rigged games, ate gross fair food, and rode rides for a few hours before Aubrey spotted the ferris wheel. Aubrey claimed that you always had to go on it. It’s a classic ride. So, ten college girls joined the line for the ferris wheel. It seemed like a long line, but it moved fairly quickly. After only about twenty minutes, the girls were able to board the ride.

Emily squeezed into a car with Beca, as the other girls found their way into the seats. It was a pleasant ride. The sun was just beginning to set as the wheel turned. Beca thought about Chloe, and how she would love to watch the sunset from up here. She snapped a photo to show her later. Beca and Chloe had been dating for around six months now—Chloe was kinda all Beca could think about. She loved everything about her.

Beca and Emily shared a nice conversation as the ride went on. Suddenly the ride stopped. Beca looked down. They were already unloading. Beca watched as an old couple exited the ride. The ride starts and then stops, again. This time, they’re at the top. “Oh my god what is that?” Emily shouted, looking down at their seat.

Beca jolted to the side, shaking the cart, when she noticed the huge spider who had apparently been riding the ferris wheel with them. “What the hell,” She said, shaking her hand towards it, “Get out!” This only seemed to anger the spider.

The two girls both start freaking out, trying, desperately, to move the spider. The whole seat is shaking now. “Sit still in your seat please, we will be unloading you shortly.” A man shouts from below them. Neither of them register it, as the spider is still planning on coming along for the ride.

Then it happens. The mistake. Beca leaned forward, shooing the spider off of the seat, only to go with it. She fell over the rail, tumbling to the ground. Emily starts panicking. Screaming, as she watched Beca hit the ground. “Get me off please! My friend is dying!”

The wheel slowly turns again, letting Aubrey and Stacie exit the ride. “Shit!” Aubrey yells, rushing through the crowd of people in line. 

“Chloe is gonna kill us.” Stacie mumbles, scrambling over to the other side of the ride.

“What the hell happened Emily!?” Aubrey shouts when Emily exits the ride. The crowd of people gathered around Beca is huge. Everyone is trying to help her up. She can barely catch her breath.

“She just. Fell. I don’t know.” Emily said, pulling Beca up off of the ground. Beca winces as she tries to walk. The Bellas can tell that she’s trying to hide the amount of pain she’s in. Maybe that’s just her. 

Amy carries Beca to the car, where the girls start arguing, after they start driving. “So. Which one of you guys wants to call Chloe and explain this? I’m driving, so it can’t be me.” Aubrey says, looking in the rearview mirror. 

“Not me. Chloe’s gonna go insane.” Stacie says, looking back at the rest of the girls.

“Word. I vote Emily. I mean, you were in the same seat as her. It’s half your fault.” Amy says, half jokingly, pointing to Emily.

“Okay. I guess that’s fair. I mean there was no way I could have stopped her from falling, but..”

“Emily. Phone. Now.” Aubrey said, pulling out of the parking lot.

“Right.” Emily mumbles, pulling her cell phone out of her pocket. She dials Chloe’s number, and listened to it ring. 

“Hey Emily, are you guys having fun?” Chloe asked. God. Why does Chloe have to be so happy? Emily was so nervous. She was about to give horrible news.

“Don’t be mad.” Emily says, her voice shaking, as she puts Chloe on speakerphone. 

“What did you do?” Chloe asked, immediately growing suspicious. 

“Well. It’s kinda dumb. I don’t really know how to tell you.”

“Where are you? Put Beca on the phone.” Chloe demands.

“Beca…” Emily starts, and then looks around at the girls in the car, “Is a little tied up right now. Um. Can I take a message?”

“Emily. Don’t be an ass. Just tell her what happened. Stop stalling.” Aubrey chimed in, from the front of the car, still trying to focus on driving. She’s definitely speeding.

“What happened?”

“Beca is injured.” Emily says, Stacie shooting her a confused look.

“Where are you?”

“We’re pulling up at the hospital.” Emily said, examining their surroundings.

“Emily. I swear to God. If my girlfriend isn’t in one piece when I get there, you’re dead.”

“Got it. See you soon.” Emily said, rushing to unbuckle her seatbelt.

-

“What can I do for you ladies?” A man nurse says, as the girls enter the hospital.

“My friend here, fell off of a ferris wheel like ten minutes ago. I don’t know how American hospitals work, but whatever you can do to like fix that issue would be good.” Amy blurted out, chuckling.

The nurse immediately rushes them all to a hospital room where they sit Beca down and start checking everything. “Alright, we’re just gonna ask you guys to stand outside while we run some tests and get her all fixed up.”

“Okay. But beware. Her girlfriend is on the way and is definitely gonna go psycho. Just letting you know ahead of time.” Stacie says, as the nurse closes the door.

“Yeah. Legacy that’s yours to deal with.” Amy says, pointing her finger at Emily, again.

Sure enough. Just a few minutes later, Chloe arrives at the hospital. “Where is she?” Chloe asked, approaching the group.

“Uh we can’t see her yet, they’re doing… whatever it is that they do when they do ‘tests’” Aubrey says, pulling Chloe into a hug. Chloe’s eyes are full of worry and fear. 

A few moments of silence pass, all of the girls trying to avoid telling Chloe of the days events. Chloe is the first to break the silence. “So is no one going to tell me what the hell happened?” she shouted, with a bit more anger and way louder than she had intended to.

“Well. Emily, if you want to…” Aubrey started, before Chloe interrupted.

“Yeah Emily, if you could tell me what’s going on, that would be great.”

“So, we were just y’know, riding rides and stuff. We all decided to get on the ferris wheel together. And it was all going okay until they were unloading.” Emily starts to explain, using an unnecessary amount of hand gestures. “We were just waiting to be unloaded and this huge spider just walked into our uh. Our seat. And we were both kinda freaking out. Beca moved to the side and the whole seat started to like move around, and then she moved forward and fell off… the ferris wheel…”

“You let Beca fall off the ferris wheel?”

“I don’t know how good my reaction time is but-”

“Not good enough.” Chloe interrupted, anxiously pacing the hallway.

“Chloe-”

“She could have died, Emily!”

“Chloe I don’t think she’s going to die, don’t worry.” Aubrey said, grabbing Chloe.

“I just. I can’t-” Chloe started, bursting into tears. 

“I know.” Aubrey said, pulling her into a hug.

-

After a while, the nurse comes back out of the room and announced that they can go in to see her now. He begins to walk the group towards a room. Stretching out his hand to the door, the girls begin to enter. Chloe pushes through the small crowd, entering the room first. She slams the door behind her, throwing her coat onto the floor.

“Yeah that’s the-” Amy starts to say.

“Psycho girlfriend?” The nurse finishes, chuckling. The girls all hum in response. “Ah. Gotcha. I’ll come back in a few minutes.”

Beca turns her head, smiling to see her girlfriend. She is wearing a cast on her wrist and has scratches on her face. Her forehead also houses a bruise. Chloe caresses Beca’s cheek, dragging her finger across a scratch.

“Dude you can’t do that. Scared the shit out of me.” Chloe says, smiling at her girlfriend.

“Do what?”

“Fall off a ferris wheel? Are you crazy?” Chloe exclaims, pulling her girlfriend into a tight hug, running her hand up and down her back.

Beca pulls away after a moment and looks at Chloe. “Yeah, crazy for you.”

 “Beca. You almost just died. And you’re flirting?”

“Yeah. It was just like when I fell for you.” Beca says, her eyes scanning Chloe’s body. Chloe hums, smiling into beca’s lips as they connect with her own. What had gotten into Beca? She giggled as Chloe sat down on the hospital bed. “You’re pretty.”

“I love you.” Chloe blurts out. For the first time. A smile that Chloe has never seen before appears on Beca’s face. A smile so big. She climbed into Chloe’s lap, kissing her lips.

“I love you too.” Beca whispers just an inch away from her girlfriend’s lips. Beca had just begun kissing Chloe’s neck, when there was a knock at the door.

“Hello? Are you guys done with hospital makeout shit? We want to see the bitch who fell off the ferris wheel. Make sure she’s not dead.” Amy yelled from outside the door. Chloe instantly started chuckling.

“She’s not dead!” She shouted, Beca giggling into her neck as the door swung open. The nurse enters the room again, accompanied by ten a cappella girls, who immediately bombard Beca with questions. Beca falls back into Chloe’s arms as the conversation continues.

When it was time to leave, the whole room is soon in tears of laughter, including the nurse, who quickly became friends with the Bellas.

As soon as they get into the car, Chloe deciding to drive a few of the girls back home so that they wouldn’t be squished into Aubrey’s car, Beca finds a permanent marker. “Hey, wanna sign this shit?”

“Obviously.” Chloe says, taking the pen, scribbling away.

“Better be cool,” Beca says, waiting.

It takes a second for Beca to readjust to view her cast. “Chloe Beale’s lover?!” Beca shouts, reading the new inscription on her cast. The whole car erupts in laughter.”

[iknowicanbutwhy]

Heads up we got an

Adult Hikikomori Sunny AU

I've been waiting to find an AU after the neutral end of the Hikikomori route for a while. What happened to Sunny? How did his life go on after that? Did he go to college? Did he get a fulltime job? Did he figure out what he wants in life?

these are all very good questions because literally anything could be the case. So this AU is just gonna be stuck in a hospital setting for a while.

Here's what I got so far:

Past:

Hospital Psychiatrist (practicing? Training?) Doctor Hero

I imagine after Basil's death, Hero would (eventually) turn to learning how to identify and help people with suicidal tendencies, if he's gonna be a doctor anyway.

In a choice between psychologist and psychiatrist, Hero went psychiatrist. Hero's parents would pressure him into getting a more lucrative job. PLUS psychiatrists go to college for 8 years, then take four more of psychiatry residency. Hero might feel just a little more accomplished, just a little better about himself for earning a higher degree, just to reassure himself that he's working hard and doing his best towards helping people.

Hero did extra studying in psychotherapy. He tried doing it at the same time as he did medical college. He's not.. the best at it because of that, for several reasons, but he knows it's better to combine medicine and conversation. When he has his head on straight, he can manage it.

I have.. no idea whether to put Hero into practice or residency. He'd have to be at least around.. 31, if he were in practice. That's a long time to have unresolved trauma. That's a nice hunk of research i gotta do.

That's it that's all for Hero. His goals are set in the present and focused around other people, as per usual.

Sunny is... not doing so well. He lied about going to college when he moved into some hole far away from his mother. He has no reason to get up in the morning when he can just lie around. He doesn't enjoy whatever hobbies he used to have.

He doesn't even know Basil is gone and he's so bad off.

He's honestly convinced himself that he doesn't care about anything. He still cares about people, however. He'd have stayed with his mom and burdened her with himself if he didn't. When they had moved from Faraway, it was to a cheaper, smaller place. That meant Sunny's mom didn't have to work so much. That meant more time with Sunny. He decided it was.. preferable not to stay.

The only times he does anything is when he tries to remember the past and relearn the person he used to be. What did he do? What did he like? He'd play games, and read comics, and would get frustrated? move on to something else when those did nothing for him, searching for.. some feeling to occur. And then he'd question why, why, why.

Why can't he enjoy anything? Why does he want to feel enjoyment? Why can't he just do something and be happy? Why can't he just do nothing and be fine? Why does he need to exist? Why does he want to move? Why does he want, but can never have, can never get by himself?

If there's nothing he can do, then what is he waiting for?

Vague memories would become clearer with introspection, until he would feel something, finally. An old guilt aching from deep inside his bones. A haunting self hatred, ripping away whatever minuscule strength his limbs had to try anything fun. A sense of iron resignation blanketing and anchoring his body, reminding him that it's much too late to try getting up now. Ironically, apathy got him up in the morning, as much as it keeps him from enjoying anything enough to stay up.

He was always a little too thin, but he used to force himself to do things like eat and work enough to survive. Mostly because to sleep means to not have headaches, and to not have headaches means to eat well enough, and to eat well enough means to have food, and to have food means to have money from a job.

But it's not as if he was all too desperate to sleep, anyway. His dreams have stayed the same for years. They're more eventful and colorful than bland reality, but it's a mix of the same thing every day. Staring at the swirling kaleidoscope of his dreams is exactly like observing the same beige ceiling for hours on end, until it all mixes together into the same shade of empty grey.

It probably doesn't help Sunny's mood that he thinks dramatic things like the previous point, just to pass time.

He only got worse once he was forced to move into one of those really bad apartments. You know the ones, with the rusted metal stairs nobody wants to risk their life on, and practically no privacy with four-to-five thin-walled neighboring rooms, and bad heating in one corner of the apartment. But it was cheap. Too bad he had to go up and down the stairs all the time.

He didn't have a problem with them when he just moved in. Generally, the most he notices is starting at the top, teleporting to the bottom, and a slight shaking of his hands that he barely glances at with empty curiosity.

As it is, some part of him knew this was going to happen. That he'd have one of those terribly introspective weeks, when he just so happens to have his new job with a boss ready to fire him and his sullen face and poor (somehow complete neutrality is offensive) attitude. He's emotionally vulnerable, and the memories on top of the stairs are devastating.

A week goes by. He's fired. He doesn't look for another job. He hasn't gone for groceries in a while. He's exhausted.

He was waiting for death, he guesses. He still wants, still feels that urge in the buzzing of his fingertips, the ghost of movement from his limbs, the phantom shiver in his back - the intent of every muscle in his body one after the other pleading with him to move, but never all at once - and Sunny laments that the human body is pretty stupid. Moving wont help. What would he do, make the end come quicker? He's already thrown away too many chances for that.

He'll stop wanting once he's gone. That's what happens when you get what you want, right?

His landlord finds him. He forgot the rent. He's taken to the hospital. Ugh.

Present:

Sunny is stunted and underweight. He wears baggy shirts stuffed into slightly less baggy hoodies, and sweats. Warmth. He couldn't find his hoodie after they took it off to put in an IV on his first trip to the hospital.

Usually nurses do things like bring food to patients, but Sunny only ever interacts with Hero and Hero wants to make sure Sunny is okay anyway. Not that it's much easier for Hero to encourage Sunny to eat.

Sunny stresses Hero the hell out. But Hero kinda missed Sunny, and his depressing and concerning reappearance brings with it a deadpan, world-weary, often childish humor that fails to take anything seriously when everything in Sunny's situation should be taken seriously. It's as much a relief as it is incredibly frustrating. Some days Hero loves it. Some days it makes him angry. Some days it makes him want to cry.

I tried doing research into the conduct Hero should display regarding patients/clients in general but it just. Any professionalism quickly devolves between him and Sunny.

As in, at one point, him and Sunny were whaling on each other about having no lives. Hero felt really bad afterwards; he had no idea what came over him. It was a great way for both of them to let out some hidden frustration, though, and they turned out fine afterwards. They even lowkey pick on each other every now and again.

Sometimes one or the other gets a bit too accurate in their teasing, however.

Psychiatrists are supposed to be able to understand, diagnose, and treat mental, emotional and behavioral disorders. So, if Hero were a completely capable psychiatrist, which he is, he wouldn't break down in front of his client. But Hero's late teenage years are wrought with so much grief and trauma, so to see Sunny and not just another client in this state is.. something i imagine he'd break down about eventually. There's also the fact that Sunny is mostly closed off to any help, which only makes things harder.

Hero is trying his best, but after years of never understanding why Mari died, years of thinking and wondering and second-guessing himself, years of guilt after never visiting Basil before he died, years of doing what he was told was "best" yet failing in what's most important to him (his friends) - his best never feels good enough around Sunny. It feels too little, too late. For this reason, and possibly because even if Hero were able to keep himself together he may just not be the right psychiatrist for Sunny, it would be better for him to find another psychiatrist for Sunny. He won't, though.

Hero really needs some time to himself to just think, or perhaps he needs someone else to talk to. Kel is nice, but Aubrey would have better experience handling emotions.

I have a very limited idea of what Aubrey and Kel are doing. Aubrey is a childcare instructor to parents and works in child services. She has studied child psychology. She has studied how childhood affects adulthood. Kel's off trying to make a name in basketball while giving kids high fives and heartfelt support.

Hero, in fact, does not like to be called Dr. Hero, but his shyness (feeling of unworthiness) about it only endears everyone to call him that more. He tells the kids that everyone calls him Hero, but the adults merely find out from the other doctors and nurses. Hero tried introducing himself as Henry to the other doctors, but Kel told them his nickname, and it stuck for obvious reasons.

Sometimes, on days when Hero has to wear his lab coat, he ties it around his neck like a cape. The kids like it, say it makes him look like a superHero.

Hero doesn't really cook. His schedule is always too busy to make anything that isn't quick. But he does eventually figure out that cooking for Sunny is the best way to entice him to eat, so when he makes something, he makes enough for both of them. They eat together.

Hero had to gather Sunny's change of clothes from his apartment when he found out that the reason Sunny has been in the same clothes for the last week is because he's had no one to visit him. Not even his mother. Why?

[invisibleinorange]

Swelter Weather | 6/?

Chapters: 6/? Fandom: Bridgerton Rating: M Warnings: None at this point. Relationships: Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington,  Eloise Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington(besties),  Bridgerton Family Dynamics, Marina Thompson/Phillip Crane, Eloise Bridgerton/Phillip Crane, Kate Sheffield/Anthony Bridgerton, Daphne Bridgerton/Simon Hastings Characters: Colin Bridgerton,  Penelope Featherington, Eloise Bridgerton, Phillip Crane, Benedict Bridgerton, Daphne Bridgerton, Additional Tags:  Bridgerton, Polin

Summary: Colin Bridgerton is weary from travel and decides to spend the summer at the Aubrey Hall. While his initial plans were to avoid his perfect family, he ends up sharing the house with Eloise and Penelope. This is a Modern AU!

It was a little wrong to sneak out and leave Eloise alone with a man that she’d just met but Penelope was willing to wager that their friendship would survive this slight.  They’d had plenty of disagreements over the years and they nearly always made up. Nine times out of ten, their disagreements revolved around little secrets that Penelope wasn’t quite prepared to divulge and Eloise failing to be observant about them or Eloise being a little overly pushy with her own feelings and opinions.

This time would be different. Penelope had already made her mind up about this. She had every intention of sitting her down, having a heart to heart conversation about this Colin thing but first she had to be sure that there was actually going to be one.  She didn’t actually know what was happening. She just knew that she’d always wanted something to happen and it was and she was terrified if she stopped it, she’d never be this lucky again.

That was why she dragged Colin away from the corner they’d disappeared to for longer than was appropriate to find Eloise and Phillip at the bar.  She had a single-mission apologize away and then go. She’d ask for forgiveness later.

“There you two are,” Eloise asked suspiciously eyeing them curiously.

Phillip oddly didn’t look suspicious at all though Penelope did pick up on a hint of some sort of secret smile toward Colin.  It definitely didn’t go without notice and it did strike her that perhaps Colin had known precisely what he was doing tonight. They weren’t the distraction for Phillip. Phillip was the distraction for Eloise. He was a reasonably good-looking, nice guy and it had worked swimmingly. Penelope had to give credit where credit was due.

“Yeah, sorry – I think something I had at lunch didn’t settle well,” she said, telling a little white lie.  She might have failed by not exactly telling Colin more than they were going to be leaving as he looked confused for a fraction of a second.

“Oh, so… Colin is going to escort you home then?” Phillip said with the save.

Penelope hadn’t really had the chance to talk to him much but she already really liked this guy.  He clearly was getting the memo.

She was starting to wonder if she’d sucked all the oxygen from Colin’s brain when he didn’t jump in on this.  She elbowed him slightly which seemed to trigger him into action.

“Of course,” he said after a moment. “I’m really sorry that we didn’t have much time to hang out but hopefully Eloise hasn’t bored you too much.”

Eloise seemed to think this meant she needed to go too.  She started grabbing her bag, trying to stand.

“I hate that our night was cut short-“

“Oh no, I wouldn’t dream of stealing you away from Phillip,” Penelope said after a moment, leaning into Colin for full effect and trying to will herself to look pathetic. “Please stay so his night isn’t ruined. Colin can take care of me.”

Eloise was definitely suspicious.  Her eyes moved back and forth between Colin who had plastered the look of pure innocence on his face and Penelope who looked the picture of death.  They were definitely on to something.  Phillip seemed to think it was legitimate though and she shrugged deciding to just leave it be.

“I’ll make sure she gets home safe,” Phillip assured.  

“Then it’s settled then,” Colin said with a nod, arm going around Penelope’s back to lead her up and out of the club before Eloise could change her mind.

--

In the grand scheme of things, the wait between the car being ordered to take them home and them arriving wasn’t that long but it felt about a million years.  

As the slipped into the back of the car, Penelope couldn’t help but laugh when Colin pulled out his wallet and handed a hundred dollar bill to the driver.

“You see nothing, you know nothing,” he told the driver who accepted the money and thus the promise of absolutely ignoring them. He had ever intention of behaving but it never hurt to have someone turn a blind eye. The vehicle started moving without further question from the driver and that was all he wanted.

Colin grinned sheepishly in the dark before reaching to turn Penelope’s face so he could claim her lips again.  He’d not wanted to stop at the bar and he was grateful to have the freedom to do it again even if the car wasn’t exactly private.

He certainly wasn’t ashamed to kiss her in front of other people. His problem was that his lips were pretty eager to explore more than her mouth and he wasn’t quite sure how much longer he could behave himself.

There was also the matter that they hadn’t actually discussed what was happening between them and he felt like they ought to.  He wasn’t under any illusion that he didn’t have a reputation albeit a false one.  He didn’t want Penelope to have the wrong idea about his intentions nor did he want her to feel pressure to do anything either.

She seemed to be the one calling the shots more than he was lately and he wasn’t upset about it. He couldn’t help but find the moments when she took control, made it clear precisely what she wanted appealing.  He’d always known the confident, direct girl existed but more often than not she let herself be pushed to the shadows.  It was silly when she was so funny, smart and beautiful!

He admittedly felt his pants tighten when he heard the click of her seat belt, felt her move from her seat to his lap and her dress rose slightly bunching against her thighs.  She was wonderfully warm against him and so perfect. He his hands moved to her hips to try and grip her.

His eyes closed when her mouth moved to tease at his neck.   An audible groan escaped him and he was grateful that the driver decided to turn up the music he was listening to.  He wanted to move his hands from her hips to her ass or elsewhere but he kept clutching her hips to try and keep himself in check.

“Pen,” he murmured after a second, knowing that he had to gain some self-control.  He had to actually have a conversation with her before he ended up having his way with her in the back of this vehicle. She deserved so much more than that.

Her eyes opened slightly and she did pull back, confusion flickering across her face.  Colin couldn’t help but pick up on what appeared to be hurt playing on her features and he felt like an absolute monster for it.

“What’s wrong?” she asked before trying to slip back to her seat. He shook his head no, hand tightening harder to keep her precisely where she was in his lap.

“I want to talk,” he said resolutely.

Penelope’s face turned ghastly white.

“I misread the whole thing and you don’t owe me any explanation for that,” she said trying to cut him off at the pass if he was going to tell her that he wasn’t looking for something long-term or that he couldn’t possibly want to be with her. It made sense to her. Colin wanting to be with her was too good to be true. “We’ve always been friends. You don’t have to… ”

He kissed her again to silence her not wanting to hear another minute of her thinking that he didn’t want her.  It was ludicrous.  

“Are you going to let me talk?” he asked when he broke away.

She nodded.

“Good. I was trying to tell you that I don’t want to just kiss you,” he told her after a moment. “I mean, clearly I want to do more than that but – I mean, we’ve known each other for a long time and my entire family cares about you. I care about you too.”

Penelope didn’t have to question for a minute that he did.

“I care about you too,” she told him softly.

“I need you to understand that if you let me have my way with you, you’re never going to be rid of me again,” he said firmly.  “I need you to know that I’m going to be all in and I need to be sure you will be as well.”

Penelope wasn’t sure that she’d heard him correctly.  Was he suggesting that she might be the one who decided it was a one and done?  It was the most insane thing she’d ever heard in her life.

“You think that I’m going to shag and run?” she asked looking at him like he had grown another head. “I’ve had a crush on you since we were practically children.”

“No,” he said after a moment, jaw tightening. He didn’t think that was anything special and she was.  He wasn’t as confident as he might like the world to think. He could let momentary vulnerability come through here. “I just – what if I don’t live up to your expectations?”

“What I don’t live up to yours?” she said turning it back on him.  She didn’t consider herself beautiful.  She could hide behind her clothes but when they came off would he be repulsed by her curves? Would he dislike her inexperience?  She couldn’t imagine a scenario where he didn’t live up to her expectations but the other way around seemed far more probable.

“That won’t be happening,” he told her shaking his head.

“Then maybe we slow it down,” she said after a moment, biting her lip.  “Until we’re both sure that the other isn’t going anywhere. I mean, not too slow and definitely not a secret because I’m going to talk to Eloise but a little less impulsive, a little more…thoughtful.”

“Okay,” he said with a nod, realizing the car had finally come to a stop. They were actually home.  “Well I think that we have a lot of ground to cover and the house to ourselves for a little while.  I do believe I’m supposed to be taking care of you so if you just happen to sleep in my bed that won’t be a problem.”

“I don’t suppose it would.”

Penelope moved off him enough to open the door and climb out, Colin following behind with a polite word of thanks for the driver.  

“One more thing,” he said moving behind her, keeping the conversation going.

She turned her head toward him watching while he maneuvered around her to unlock the door and let them in.  She kicked off her heels at the entrance.

“Okay?” she said waiting for him to say it.

“If someone asks, you’re my girlfriend,” he said firmly. It wasn’t a question but a statement. Of course, she could argue it if she wanted.

“I don’t remember you asking?” she said, pausing slightly, amusement was written on her face though.

Colin wasn’t one to turn away from a challenge though or an opportunity to be overly dramatic.  He paused, moved down to one knee.

“Will you allow this to be an official thing?” he asked her, gazing up at her.  

“Well since you asked nicely,” she teased.

[yetanotheremptypage]

all the bridgertons/edwina/their mothers planning their weddingand wanting to make it huge and asking them millions of qs when k& a don't really care they just want to get married/elope?

no escaping your love #21: wedding bells (a modern au) (Read 1-20 here.)

#29. “Well, what do you want to do?”

Kate dropped her head onto their dining room table the second she heard the front door click shut and Violet, Mary, Daphne, and Edwina gloriously departed.

Don’t get her wrong, she loved her family, and she loved how excited they were to help plan the wedding. But they all also had very different ideas of what said wedding should look like.

Kate knew that Violet and Edmund Bridgerton had married rather quickly—Anthony was born less than eight months later, after all—so she didn’t fault her future mother-in-law for trying to plan every last detail that she wouldn’t have gotten to plan for herself.

But she had eight children. She’d have time to make up for it if she wanted to so desperately.

Mary and Edwina she could fault immensely. Edwina had had a wedding Pinterest board since she was fourteen. While some of it was admittedly cute and things she would consider, very little of it was anything Kate was interested in. Mary, meanwhile, was conspiring with Violet to invite practically as many distant relatives as they could find, even though Kate was fairly positive some of the names Mary was fishing for weren’t even actually related to Kate in any way.

Daphne was just… well, Daphne. She was well-known for style and grandeur. Also, she’d pulled off the wedding of the season in less than six months. Kate would be a fool not to have her help plan. But Good Lord, the Bridgertons may be society, but Kate was most definitely not. She didn’t want a ball gown or a string quartet or anything of that ilk.

Basically, she was in hell, and her fiancé had had the gall to abandon her to “work” in his study.

If he hadn’t so kindly kicked out their families just now, she might’ve killed him.

“You alright?” he said as he re-entered the kitchen, heading for the fridge. Great, it was his night to cook. She loved him, dearly, but he was a passable cook at best. The last thing she needed today was a smoke alarm or some other cooking mishap.

“I’ve spent the last three hours listening to our mothers and sisters discuss color schemes and what would look best against the gardens of Aubrey Hall, as well as the feasibility of fitting a tent big enough to accommodate 200 guests.”

“200?” he repeated incredulously. “Do we know 200 people?”

“Your family alone must make up half of it,” she teased, standing up and leaning against the counter. “Edwina said she would type up the guest list and have us check over it before we order invitations or set the catering. We’ll cross off a bunch of them then.”

“Excellent.” He appeared to be sticking to pasta and salad tonight, which was a blessing; once he’d actually learned how to turn their stove on (honestly, why was this posh man the one she’d agreed to spend the rest of her life with?) he’d not once fucked up anything that involved boiling water. A low bar, perhaps, but truly the pinnacle of Anthony’s cooking talent. “Is that all that’s bothering you?”

“I just don’t know how to get them to… stop. Like, we don’t want 200 people. Don’t get me wrong, I love Aubrey Hall, and I love our families and everything but… I don’t know if I want to do this—” she waved in the general direction of their kitchen table, still covered in the wedding binders Edwina and Daphne had prepared— “Like this.”

“Well, what do you want to do?” he asked, turning away from the stove to look right at her. She shrugged.

“All I want is to marry you. I don’t care about anything else.”

He kissed her, a whispered, “Good,” in her ear, and she thought that would be it.

A month later, they married at Aubrey Hall—no third cousins once removed, layers of taffeta, or string quartets in sight. Just them, their nearest and dearest, and the beautiful gardens. (And the non-clashing color scheme, she will admit, is quite nice.)

[the-bugs-under-ur-skin]

H-hi! I was wondering, is there a difference between yandere Hero/Sunny/Basil/Kel and yandere dream Basil/Hero/Kel/Omori?

hello! i don't usually get asked about the headspace characters so i'll try to do my best here! thanks for asking :)

Sunny vs Omori

omori would probably go out with you more than Sunny would and yet you’d somehow have a lower chance of human interaction (besides omori of course). since omori is basically god he can try and impress you with all of amazing date spots around the headspace and can easily shoo away anybody who tries to interact with you. he’d also have a lot easier of a time protecting you and killing people without reason since it’s more of the norm there. also there’s so many nightmares and mental breakdowns that center around you. you’ve completely replaced Basil in that regard, i wouldn’t be surprised if he’s completely forgotten about Basil at this point. he’s the only one in the headspace who can technically still remember the trauma, so he’s still similar to Sunny but now he just feels like he’s actually being attacked by you.

Kel vs dream Kel

dream Kel is so much more immature. he’s a lot more impulsive and bratty so he’s almost always in a petty argument about you. usually it’s about Aubrey or Hero being too friendly with you. he’s very competitive and would definitely fight anyone to prove how strong he is and how he’s so good at protecting you. after every fight he finishes, he’ll run up to you all excited but also covered in the blood of the enemy. yes, he does deserve praise. also, you need to convince Kel that you don’t have cooties if you want him to be affectionate. he doesn’t say you have cooties as much as the obsession progresses, but he still kinda thinks kisses are icky.

Hero vs dream Hero

dream Hero is supposed to be the calm one of the group and he kind of commits to that role. faraway Hero is already off the rails, but headspace Hero still has some of his sanity left so he’s a more mild yandere than his counterpart. the main difference is that he still charms others to help his friends, but then will crumple to the ground in front of you and apologize. he also used to be a big pushover but then he “learned” for all the wrong reasons and now puts up a fight more often. instead, he’s the biggest pushover for you. if you asked Basil for help on something, he’d immediately go off and do the task on his own.

Basil vs dream Basil

dream Basil is just a lot less intense. he’s more cheery so he isn’t scream crying as much as he does in the real world. he also will actually hang out with the rest of the gang if you do instead of just holding you down while begging you not to leave him. but Basil probably won’t leave the picnic blanket without you. he still excessively worries about you, so the moment the gang start fighting someone he’s clinging onto you and trying to push the both of you away from the scene. he also doesn’t have as much empathy for others as he once did and won’t reach out to people and help. though, he is still going outside more, so that’s a plus.

[thiswasinevitableid]

for monster march, ghost + indruck + nsfw?

Here you go! I borrowed some ideas we’ve tossed around on the Discord

A sketchbook, new pens, a Hershey bar, and a bag of jumbo marshmallows. A small but lively fire. And a new, huge, fuzzy sleeping bag waiting for him in the tent. 

Not a bad camping set up for a city-boy art goth (as Barclay likes to call him).

Indrid sticks another marshmallow on the fork, roasting it until it’s deep brown, the smell of burning sugar curling through the air and settling in his hair. He’s never liked Graham Crackers, so he jams a square of chocolate into the molten center of the marshmallow and shoves the entire thing into his mouth. 

Kepler is small. Barclay hadn’t been kidding about that. He’d also been right that one of the two tattoo shops in town was willing to hire Indrid after looking through photos of his work and confirming he completed his apprenticeship. 

He’s been living in the Eastwoods campground in the Monongahela National Forest while he apartment hunts, and the tattoos he’s done so far netted him enough cash to buy his luxurious new sleeping bag. He might be waiting on a place for some time, so he may as well camp in style. 

Three “s’mores” later, the moon is up and the night is chilly enough that he wants his sweatshirt. Ducking into the tent, he can’t find it on his pillow, where he swears he left it this morning. Maybe he accidentally buried it getting dressed.

A splashhiss interrupts his rummaging. Scrambling from the tent, he discovers his fire is now a pile of soaked ashes and logs being angrily stirred by a thick piece of kindling. 

“Excuse me, but what the fuck?”

A man in a ranger uniform appears, the stick falling through his hand as he gives Indrid a disapproving stare. 

“Look here, I know you’re new here, maybe to campin entirely. But you can’t just leave a fire burnin when you go to bed.” He doesn’t sound mad, more like he’s a disappointed big brother scolding his sibling. 

“I wasn’t-”

“And all this” he gestures to the food on the table, “has gotta go in the bear box. Black bears are real good foragers and we don’t want ‘em comin’ into camp and gettin to comfy around humans.”

“Of course, but-”

“You didn’t take any food into the tent, right? Wouldn’t want somethin to decide to join you ‘cause it smelled a snack.”

Indrid pinches the bridge of his nose, “I am aware of all of these rules, and plan to follow them. Once I actually go to bed instead of ducking into the tent for my sweater. But since my evening appears to be over…” he grabs the marshmallows, roasting fork, and chocolate, carries them to the bear box, and slams it closed. 

When he whirls back around, the ghost is still there, chagrined. 

“Uh, sorry. I kinda jumpy about people leavin fires alone.” In the lantern light, his smile is as charming as his drawl. His stocky, bearish shape and unassumingly handsome face command Indrid’s focus, which is why his revelation comes so quickly. 

“You...there’s a statue of you at the visitor center. Which makes you, ah, damn it what was the name-”

“Duck. Duck Newton. They put my legal name on there, even though Juno tried to stop ‘em. But my name’s Duck.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Duck. I’m Indrid.”

“Nice to meet you too. Uh, sorry for ruinin your campfire, looks like you were havin a nice time.”

“It’s alright. I suppose I’m grateful there’s someone haunting the campsites to keep them in order.”

“You’re takin me bein’ a ghost surprisingly well.”

“I’ve always been interested in strange things, to the point that I earned the nickname ‘mothman’ in high school.”

“Huh” Duck watches him a moment, then shrugs, “well, guess I better be goin’. Have a nice night, mothman.”

With that, he’s gone.

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

“Hello again.” Indrid says as the campfire smoke curls around a human form, “Doing your rounds?”

“More or less. I like my job, and ain’t about to give it up just because I beefed it and turned into a ghost.” A creak as Duck joins him on the picnic bench. When he materializes, he floats slightly above the worn wood, watching Indrid draw. 

“That’s incredible, it’s so realistic it’s like you pressed the leaves into the pages instead of colored them.”

“Thank you.” adds depth to the leaf, “you know, I looked at the statue again today. It hardly does you justice.”

From this close, he can see a blush spread up semi-opaque cheeks. Then he starts fading.

“Oh, ah, I’m sorry. I was aiming for a benign compliment, not to make you uncomfortable.”

“S’alright, just surprised me. Not many folks wanna flirt with a dead guy.”

“I’m more interested in what the ���dead guy’ wants.” Indrid smiles, hoping to convey he would submit to spectral touches as readily as he’d keep talking. 

Duck floats closer, “Kinda curious about your other drawin’s.”

Indrid turns the sketchbook back to the beginning, “they’re half portfolio and half travelogue. Here” he holds up a fade, detached piece of paper,  covered by an Morpho Butterfly that looks ready to fly away, “this is the first tattoo I ever designed.”

“Damn. Guessin’ that means you did this one” he touches the Rosy Maple Moth on Indrid’s forearm (or tries to). It’s chilly, but not in the way Indrid feared. More like taking a cool shower on a sweltering day.

“I did. Here, it gave me an idea for my first series of flash tattoos…”

They go over the illustrations page by page. Slowly, Indrid weaves in questions to Duck who, instead of recoiling from discussion of his mortal life, tells him rambling stories about the woods and which places serve the best food in town. 

The conversation doesn’t end until the fire goes out on it’s own, Duck standing automatically, grabbing a water bottle, swearing, and then disappearing so he can pick the bottle up. 

“Do you think that’s part of why you’re still here? Some unfinished business having to do with the woods?”

“Nah.” The water bottle thunks back on the table as Duck reappears, “I tried to live a normal life, improve the world the way I knew how, make some kind of difference to this town. Then I had to go play the goddamn hero.”

“I would say saving two dozen people from a forest fire makes a considerable difference in the world.”

A sad huff of a laugh, “Yeah, guess you’re right. Just...I meant to do somethin’ with my life, not my death, even if it was a small somethin’, and the closest thing I got to unfinished business is a model ship.”

“I...what?”

“It was four-masted and everything! I had Leo order it in special and everything and then I never, I never got to-”  He tilts his head up, sniffs once, “never mind. I better let you get to sleep.”

By the time Indrid calls “goodnight,” the ghost is gone. 

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

“Please tell me you’re gettin a place soon so you stop eatin everythin outta a can?” Leo bags the last of groceries.

“No such luck. Ah well, there are worse things than canned soup and Pop-Tarts.”

“At least let Barclay feed you, half the point of havin a friend who can cook is to let ‘em do it for you. You need stamps or anything?”

“N-” A box behind the counter catches his eye. It’s at an odd angle, as if whoever put it there is hoping no one will see it. Indrid can just make out an illustration of a four-masted ship.

“Is that for sale?”

Leo looks where he’s pointing, and for a moment something in his gruff affability wavers. Then he nods, “Yeah, suppose it is.”

“Can you ring it up for me?” Indrid nearly bounces on his toes when Leo sets the box on the counter and confirms his hunch. 

The older man sets a gentle hand on the cardboard, sliding it across to Indrid, “Don’t worry about that, kid. It’s yours.”

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

“Duck?” Indrid turns in a circle by the picnic table, “Duck, I have something for you!”

He saw the ranger briefly last night, but he didn’t hang around. Gingerly, he sets the box on the table, tearing off a piece of sketch paper to write a note in case the ghost stops by while he’s asleep. 

“Holy fuck.” Duck floats across the table from him, “‘Drid, where did, how did--why?”

“Leo still had it. As for why I, ah, it seemed like you still wanted it. If you can douse a fire and over my camp stove, I figure you can build a model ship.”

Duck disappears and Indrid’s heart sinks; that must have been too much. Then he’s squished in an invisible, wonderful bear hug.

“Thanks, ‘Drid.”

From then on, Duck spends every night at his campsite, building the ship while Indrid draws, reads, or talks with him. The model lives in the safest corner of the tent during the day.

“I mean, I’m up durin the day too, but I scared a few folks on accident and I don’t want people avoid the forest because of me.”

Indrid also learns that Duck is stuck within a certain radius of where he died, and that his attempts to talk with Juno when she was in his part of the woods only lead to his friend thinking she was hallucinating and Duck feeling miserable for three solid days. Indrid offers to act as messenger and invite Duck’s friends (many of whom have, by chance and by proximity to Barclay, become his friends) to the campsite to see him. The ranger is quiet for some time after that offer.

“Not yet. Maybe someday, but not yet. I, it ain’t even been a year, ‘Drid. I think a lot of ‘em are still hurtin. And, and maybe this is selfish but...I ain’t ready to deal with them findin’ out I aint fully gone. It’d be so much all at once.”

Indrid doesn’t bring it up again. More than once, when Aubrey tells a story about Duck only for her eyes to sadden halfway through, or when he sees Juno looking at Duck’s statue a little too long, he struggles to keep his promise. 

A cold front blows into town and, since he’s still in the tent, he pops into Kepler Thrift N Find in search of an extra sweatshirt. Tucked in between one reading “Ranchos” and one with a picture of Garfield is a soft, well-loved hoodie with “Monongahela National Forest” on the front. He buys it and wears it home, the fact it’s loose in the arms making it even easier to tuck in his hands when he gets cold. 

He stops by the visitor center out of habit, checking out the new plush wild animals. There are also hints of Duck here and there; his name on displays, his face in group photos. As he contemplates a small, squishy black bear, he notices Juno looking at him more than usual.

“Hello again” he sets the bear on the counter.

“Howdy. This all?

“Yes, please. Are you alright? You look, ah, tired.”

“Yep. Or, uh, just noticed that sweatshirt. It was one that got made special for staff a few years ago.”

Indrid fidgets with the cat-bitten drawstring, “It was Duck’s, wasn’t it?”

“Uh huh. He put that patch on the sleeve. Guess it startled me to see it on someone else.”

“I understand.” 

“Knew him since we were kids. Hell, he’s my daughter’s godfather. Still don’t feel right, bein’ here without him.”

Indrid pushes the bear towards her and she pets it.

“What was he like?”

In the empty visitor center, Juno tells him. In her stories are echos of every conversation he’s ever had with anyone who knew Duck. When it’s time to close up, she asks if she can hug him, and thanks him for listening to her. 

“Guess you weren’t kiddin about wanting to sleep with a bear” Duck teases as Indrid sets his new purchase inside the tent. Indrid whaps at him, arm going through his torso. The ranger floats nearby as Indrid heats up ravioli and opens a can of Mountain Dew. Indrid tells him about the conversation with Juno. 

“Huh, guess that is my old one. Glad someone is gettin some use outta it. And it looks good on you.”

Indrid sets down his bowl, “We talked a lot, Duck. And it made me think about what you said to me one of the night after we met. You said you wanted a chance to make the world, the town, a little better. Everyone I’ve talked to, and I mean every one, has a story about you. How you helped them, how Kepler is worse off with you gone. You did so much, even with your time cut short. I, I wanted you to know that.”

The ghost looks away, “I wasn’t done tryin to help.”

“You still aren’t. You do what you can to keep the forest and the visitors safe. And you, you’ve made my life immeasurably better Duck. Seeing you is the best part of my day and I think I’m falling--ah, that is, you’re not done making a difference.”

Duck hasn’t moved since Indrid started talking about his feelings. When Indrid tries to meet his eyes, he disappears. Hurried, he reaches out to offer a reassuring touch and gets only air. 

“Duck?”

Nothing, even after he calls his name three more times.

He slumps onto the bench, “well, fuck me I guess.”

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

This is a terrible idea. But it’s his last, and therefore his best. 

Indrid even asked Barclay’s boyfriend, Joseph, if anything in his impressive library of the paranormal advised the reader on dealing with upset ghosts. A few did, always from the perspective of trying to get the specter to go away. They said nothing about what to do if your upset ghost was missing, leaving an ache in your heart you didn’t know you were capable of feeling. 

Instead, after a week of silence, Indrid changes tactics: if he can’t coax Duck back, maybe he can annoy him into appearing. 

Tonight, he finishes dinner and cleans his dishes, puts the bulk of the food in the bear box, and then tears open a bag of chips, scattering them across the table. He eats one, then leaves the open bag laying amongst the potato shards. 

Next, he dumps his remaining water on the fire, which takes it down to embers but does not extinguish it. When none of that gets a reaction, he decides to narrate.

“Hmm, that should be fine, it’s not that dry and I don’t think sparks can go over the edge.”

“Should I leave these juice pouches out? Yes, I think I should, in case I get thirsty at night. Maybe I’ll take one into the tent, just to be safe.”

He already feels silly and like no one is listening, and so he escalates. 

“I know I shouldn’t leave food out for the wildlife, but since there’s no handsome, ghostly ranger here to punish me for my transgressions, I am just going to leave some nuts out for the raccoons. I like raccoons. They deserve nice things. Hell, how about I just leave them a whole buffet since no one is stopping me!”

All he gets in reply are the few bugs awake this early in the spring and the crack of brush as a small mammal runs away from the weird bipedal thing yelling at his camp fire. He doesn’t leave out food for the raccoons; he climbs into his tent in a huff. What a bad idea, to think this of all things would bring Duck back to him. He’s being childish and bratty and selfish; Duck doesn’t deserve that, no more than he owes Indrid his company. 

He changes into his pajamas pants and sleep shirt, intending to go back out to make the site safe and tidy. Except.

Except something just opened the bear box. The chip bag crinkles and the fire hisses out a minute later. He should be running outside to apologize, but his mind has simultaneously  registered the full darkness of the night , the possibility that Duck is not the only paranormal thing in these woods, and the fact the nearest other campers are on the other side of the campground, meaning he is very, very alone.

The zipper on the tent moves, the flap falling open so his lantern shines on nothing but April air.

“Duck? Please say that’s you.”

A low chuckle, “It’s me, ‘Drid.” The fly zips shut, “mighty peeved about that trick you pulled.”

“I’m, I’m sorry. I missed you, but that was a bad way to communicate that.” He can’t see him, and the lantern only picks up the odd shift of sleeping bag or tent floor, so Indrid’s eyes’ dart about trying to pinpoint him.

“Oh, you communicated plenty, sugar. Like what you want a certain, uh, ghostly ranger to do to you.”

“Oh god” he winces, “please, forget I said that, it’s humiliating.”

“Not all that surprisin, truth be told. I mean, you and I flirted now and then. And you told me enough about yourself for me to suspect that you’re a kinky little weirdo who’s dyin to get fucked by a ghost.” 

“I, I feel I should point out that I only want to fuck one ghost. You. I want to fuck you and that means fucking a ghoOOOst.” He gasps as cold lips press into his neck.

“I can make that happen, darlin, all you gotta do is say it. You were a pain in the neck earlier, so now I expect you to be real polite and use your words.” Duck’s voice has never been like this before, rough and possessive yet still, under all of it, the same warmth draws Indrid in like a flame. 

“I want you, Duck.”

A bite to his ear, strong arms wrapping around his waist from behind him, “Want me to do what?”

“Fuck me” this is like every wet dream he had as a teenager, the supernatural being coming for a fellow outsider. 

That gets him a tender kiss on the cheek, “That’s better. Though, if I’m rememberin correctly, word you used was punish.”

Indrid yelps as Duck turns and shoves him to lay across his lap, kicks his legs out in surprise when his waistband slides down to his upper thighs. 

“Yesss” he wiggles his ass as Duck palms it, “yes, Duck, pleaseAHgod” the first strike stings, and Duck doesn’t let him recover before delivering five more, three to each side. His cock perks up at the pain. Stranger still, because Duck is invisible, all Indrid has to do is tilt his head to watch it harden and twitch with each slap.

Twenty strikes later Duck pauses, hand rubbing soothing, cool circles on the burning skin, “Learned your lesson?”

“Mmhmm.” Indrid presses an awkward kiss to Duck’s knee. 

“Glad to hear it.” Duck hauls him up onto his knees, slides a hand under his shirt and up his chest, “I’m rarin’ to feel more of you--holy fuck” 

“AH!” Indrid arches as Duck toys with his left nipple piercing, his other hand quickly finding the right. 

“God, fuck, you’re fuckin hot, if I were alive I woulda taken you home first time I saw you.” Messy kisses cover his neck as Duck tugs the piercings.

“Gaahnnyes, that’s, that’s very flattering.”

“Ain’t flattery, sugar, it’s the truth. Never could turn down some skinny punk with piercin’s and messy hair, not when I was a teen burnout hidin in the woods and sure as hell not now.” He moves Indrid onto his back, rucking up his shirt as his legs twist in his half-down pants. The ranger cups his face, and Indrid is positive he’s meeting his eyes, “tell me what you want sugar, tell me so I can treat you right.”

“Marks, I want marks anywhere you’ll give them.”

A growl from above him, then lips smashing into his, drinking him in before continuing down his throat, biting and sucking hard enough that he cries out every time. Duck pauses, teasing his nipples with his tongue as he rakes his nails up his sides. He sits up and for a horrible moment Indrid loses him. Then with glee he watches five red marks drag down his chest. He moans, rolling his hips and discovering just how closer Duck’s clothed cock is to his own. The contact only feeds the rangers eagerness, and Indrid is tosses and turns as he sucks, bites, and scratches, laying claim to the illustrated expanse of his body. 

“More, please, god that all feels so good.” 

“Don’t worry darlin, still got plenty of you to mark up, but we’re gonna do somethin else while I do.” He eases Indrid onto his stomach, slaps his ass fondly, “don’t go nowhere.”

Indrid’s duffel bag unzips, clothes and pens moved aside until a bottle of lube hovers in the air. The tube compresses and drips coat the rough outline of fingers. When the two digits press into him he sighs, eyes closing as he melts under Ducks watchful eyes. 

“That’s it ‘Drid, relax for me. Got well over a year of horny to work out, so this cute ass needs to be ready to take it.”

Indrid pushes his hips back in reply, taking as far as the fingers will go and whimpering excitedly when he presses in the tip of the third. Duck works that one more carefully, kissing Indrid’s face and shoulders as he whispers about how good he is, how much he’s wanted this.

“I want it too so for, for goodness sake please fuck me soon or I’ll leave my entire cooler out for the bears.”

“Only one bear in this campsite tonight darlin.” Duck laves his tongue down the base of his spine, bites down hard on his ass. Indrid’s still moaning from the pain when his cock pushes in.

“Fuuuckme that’s good. Shoulda snuck into your tent sooner, sugar, made you a fuckin cocksleeve you feel so fuckin good.”

“Ohgod” is all Indrid, voice muffled by the sleeping bag he’s biting, manages before Duck adjusts them so Indrid is on his knees. The ranger isn’t gentle, pounds into him like he’s nothing but a warm hole and chuckles whenever Indrid moans. 

“H-handprints, Duck, want hand prints GAHyesyesyes” he struggles to move in time with the ghost as the air fills with ear-splitting slaps. He’s so close, the pain and the sensation of phantom fingers claiming his body making his body beg for release. When he slides a hand down to jerk himself off, the arm twists up and stays trapped against his back. 

“You wanna cum, you know what to do.”

He blinks away the ecstatic tears, words raw in his throat, “Please let me cum, Duck. I want to, need to cum while you fuck me pleaseplease-” he cuts off into whine as the ghost works his cock hard, all the while jamming into him hard enough that the smooth fabric of the sleeping bag burns his knees. When he cums it’s with a weak cry of Duck’s name, which is swallowed up by hungry lips as Duck kisses him over and over, repeating Indrid’s name like an incantation as he pumps his hips and cums, pulling out as he does so it splatters on the reddened patches of his ass. 

A final kiss to the top of his head, and then there’s no contact between them and the zipper is moving.

“Oh no you don’t” Indrid scrambles, sweaty and exhausted, between the tent fly and the invisible man somewhere in front of him, “for goodness sake, Duck, I thought you liked me enough to at least let me fall asleep before you ran.”

The ranger finally appears, hair a mess and cheeks noticeably pink, “‘Drid, all that was amazing, but it’s all I can give you. I, I can’t...you said you were fallin for me and I can’t give you that.”

Indrid cocks his head, “Why not?”

“Because I’m a fuckin ghost, ‘Drid! You deserve to be with a livin’ fella, you deserve someone who can be a real part of your life.”

He crosses his arms, “Duck, you are a real part of my life. Honestly, what part of all the nights we spent together, all the ways we take care of each other, all of this” he points at the rumpled sleeping bag, “suggests otherwise?”

The ghost doesn’t speak, simply hugs himself (or tries to).

“If this is too much, if I’m offering something you do not want, then please tell me. But if this is you thinking that some paranormal quirks keep you from being a worthy partner for me, kindly think again.”

Duck disappears and Indrid is gearing up to try and tackle a supernatural entity when a familiar face buries itself in the crook of his neck. The ghost clings to him, and Indrid clings right back. 

“You really wanna give it a go?”

“More than anything.”

Duck lifts his head so their cheeks rest together, “Then fuck it. Let’s see what happens.”

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

Indrid finishes hooking up his lightly used Winnebago, AKA his solution to the lack of available apartments. He’s in a different section of Eastwoods, but he’s happy with his new spot. He opens one of his few boxes, gently lifts the completed model ship into a place of honor, and waits, humming happily, for an unseen hand to knock on his door. 

[revchainsaw]

You're Next (2011)

Greetings Flock! Reverend Chainsaw here with another film review to feed your souls. Parishioners of the Cult of Cult should be familiar with todays offering, and that is good news for you shall find your hearts strangely warmed. Please join me as we dive into the Book of You're Next and renew our devotion to the Trinity that is The Tiger, the Lamb, and the Holy Wolf.

The Message

You're Next is definitely a tough film to review. For a movie as young as it is to have had such a strong and committed following speaks volumes and I believe you would be hard pressed to find a review by anyone who loves horror that is down on the film. While it can sometimes bring me great joy to review the awful films of the world, occasionally it is a pleasure to give honor to those films which deserve it.

You're Next is a film which fits neatly into both the Slasher and Home Invasion genres. The story centers around a vicious assault on a wealthy family by 3 masked men, all on the evening when our heroin, Erin, is meeting them for the first time. Avoiding the Slasher genre trope of generic murder lambs we are yet again faced with an excellent cast where not even the early victims are forgettable.

The movie opens with the grizzly murder of the Davison's nearest neighbors by our animal masked assassins, insuring that should anyone attempt to flee they will not be finding help any time soon. Then we get one hell of a title card before we find Paul and Aubrey Davison preparing to have their children and their respective partners over to their home to celebrate their anniversary. Aubrey is played by Re-Animators own Barbara Crampton. Foremost among the children visiting are their son Crispian, a college professor, and his Australian girlfriend Erin, who was once his T.A. This is a source of contention for Crispian when his siblings judge the professional nature of this relationship.

Two by Two the Children arrive. It is off handedly mentioned that the Davisons money comes from defense contracts, and that the family dynamic is particularly strained. An arrow from a cross bow pierces the window during a particularly tense dinner, and then the film enters full force into unyielding action. There are characters murdered by arrows, a gruesome slice to the jugular by some sinisterly placed piano wire (during what was ramping up to be a daring escape from the home), and of course axe murders.

Crispian manages to escape into the night abandoning Erin and his remaining family. At this point, Erin, who is revealed to have been raised on a survivalist compound begins to fight back. Erin goes full Home Alone on the invaders, and the hunters soon become the hunted. After Erin kills one of the villains It is revealed through the course of the night that the murder of the Davison family is an inside job. These men are paid assassins and they were hired by Felix and his gothy girlfriend Zee, whose macabre tastes include being sexually aroused by dead bodies. Once Erin discovers this fact she dispatches the rest of the animal masked crew as well as Felix and Zee with some very creative uses of kitchenware.

Just as we are about to declare Erin the final girl of this film Felix's phone rings, it's Crispian. When Erin answers Crispian reveals that he was the ringleader, but his weak constitution had caused him to flee the scene. Impatient when he doesn't here Felix on the other end Felix reenters the home to find a bloody Erin. He begs and makes excuses, promising Erin that she was intended to be a witness to the slaughter and was safe the whole time. Erin is having none of it, and ends the relationship once and for all with a stab to the neck.

The film ends with the arrival of the police who upon discovering Erin murdering Crispian set off one of her Home Alone traps and she is set up to be held responsible for the whole affair. Here's hoping we get the court room drama sequel that this movie deserves.

The Benediction

Best Kill: Erin, In the Kitchen, With the Vitamix It's not often in a horror flick that the best kill can be said not to have come from the hands of the monster, but from the heroin. Toward the climax of the film Erin has had enough and she expresses her self in glorious gory satisfaction with a blender to the skull of her lovers brother Felix.

Best Character : T.A. Taking Action Suprise! It's Erin. The best character is Erin. I really wanted to try and say that it was some more obscure character like snarky big bro Drake, but No. It's Erin, it was always Erin. She is the stand out feature of the film. The Lamb, the Tiger, and the Wolf masks were instantly iconic and sold in Hot Topic from the minute the movie made a wide release, but no one comes out of You're Next thinking about the mercenary assassins. We come out thinking about how the lass from the land down under turned the tide against the terribe trio. The audience wants more Erin.

Best Actor: We Came, We Got You, Barbara!

It's just so good to see Barbara Crampton whenever we can. It says something for a person to still be doing the Scream Queen thing for this long. She is not the most likeable character in You're Next but she is selling the fear, the tension and the goals of her character. I think it would be safe to say that the first act would not be nearly as effective without Barbara Cramptons performance.

Best Villain: Zee Nation

Zee was just something else. The Masked Trio of Home Invaders were sort of plug and play. The masks and tactical gear definitely sold the menace, but they were not really characters. They are given some slivers of back story and I don't think that it's really a problem that way. I've been happy with less before. It just sort of means that no one killer stands out in particular. Though the Lamb Mask is my personal favorite. For all the brutish merciless killing these three dole out to the Davison family it's really Zee who makes a splash in my memory. She's absolutely as gleeful as a deadite about all this bloodshed going on around her. She isn't just dark and edgy cuz it's a look, it seems like she really took that aesthetic to heart. The fact that you couldn't tell she'd happily tear your throat out by looking at her certainly makes her a bigger threat than she gets credit for.

Worst Character: Poor Little Rich Kid

All of the characters in You're Next work. Some move from grating to sympathetic, others from charming to pitiful, but at some point every character has a presence and a personality that the viewer can recognize. No Character in this film will receive worst character because they are poorly written, unneccessary, or just obnoxious. However, one character is consistently self-indulgent, cocky, sniveling, and has all the undeserved sense of superiority of a Kevin Smith protagonist, and that's Crispian. Fuck Crispian. He's a bad boyfriend, a bad brother, a bad son, and a bad teacher. He has so much that he doesn't deserve, and earnestly feels he's entitled to more.

Most WTF Moment: Crossing the Line

Was it Crispian's heel turn? Was it Felix stabbing drake? The realization that the family extermination was an inside job? Was it the twist that Erin was a bad ass? What single moment made everyone who's seen this movie go "WHOAH!!!" all at once? When Crispian was attempting to make his exit the first time he proposed he go and get help claiming he's the fastest, to which his overestimation of himself is comedically undercut by the fact that he is in fact out of shape and his sister Aimee used to run track. The family unanimously agrees they would put their lives in the hands of poor Aimee and her athletic past, but they also propose she back up and bolt out the front door the minute they open it up. The music swells, and Aimee makes a run for it. She is stopped short by a piano wire trap set by the mercenaries, as her momentum allows the wire to cut deep and clean into the meat of her neck. She is not decapitated but bleeds out on the floor of the house. It really catches the viewer off guard and is a very impressive effect. Not only is Aimee's kill the most WTF moment, but it is runner up for best kill.

Summary You're Next is hands down my favorite home invasion movie. It's wide appeal is undeniable. As of 2015, You're Next was predicted to be considered the best horror movie of the 2010s. Unfortunately for You're Next but how wonderful for us, the later half of the decade really ramped up the great horror films releases. I wouldn't call You're Next the best horror film of it's time, but it definitely deserves to be remembered. People's enthusiasm for the film does seem to be slowing and I think it would do our congregation a great service for us to continue singing it's praises.

Overall Grade: A