#being 14 really fucking sucks but being 24 is more bearable

[tunacharm]

10 years of my life spent in this cursed place...

[goatpaste]

bro everytime something with lucy happened i was venting to my groupchat and cursing out araki. what the FUCK dude.

ITS REALLY JUST HORRIBLE

lIKE I CANNOT even beGIN to imagine what fucking PLANET araki was on to write all that fucking shit hole FUCK man

HOW WAS THAT ALLOWED

like, lucy in theory was a very fun and silly cute character, who coulda played a good role! but araki chose violence and decided to make sure Lucy never knew a moments peace between either ALWAYS having grown men preying on her or being made to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders

LIKE it SUCks and its not even important to the plot. literally none of that was important

either!! make lucy an adult?? there was no reason she shoulda been 14 if you wanted to have everyone??? so attracted to her??? just! 25! 24! thats all im asking! would made mountain tim more bearable as a character, the shit with the presidents wife, ect ect

also! just!! TAKE THE RAPE SCENES OUT, THEY LITERALLY DO NOTHING FOR THE PLOT ITS JUST UNSAVORY AND ARAKI IN NO WAY OR FORM HAS THE ABILIT TO WRITE ANY NUANCE TO THAT DEGREE

and if you need to have lucy be 14 SOOO bad??

she didnt need to be married to steel. she just didnt, i dont care about whatever bullshit nonesensical loop hole araki built up for that, its WEIRD. the general concept is bullshit, and on top of it i dONT like seeing scenes were lucy and steel are touchy, or kissing or calling each other pet names. i dont care if its an act. their connection didnt need to be that way. and saying "their relationship was more like she was a mother to steel" WAS ALSO WEIRD. SHE IS 14 WHY IS SHE MOTHER THIS 50 YEAR OLD MAN. LIKE

i would WAY faster accepted a narrative of Steels like, assistant or company partner who helped him dream up this grand race was some starry eye big hearted goof ball of a 14 year old who supported him and they had a goofy grandpa and grandkid/coworker thing going on.

and mountain tim was liKE THAT SHIT SUCKED BECAUSE I REALLY LIKED MOUNTAIN TIM. but literally RIGHT before they kill him they pull that shit and its like?? DUDE?? WHATS YOUR PROBLEM

i woulda given ANYTHING for mountain tim to be like an older brother/father figure to lucy and johnny who cared about them and their safety and lack of positive family roles in their life....

THEN THE SHIT WITH THE PRESIDENTS WIFE IS LIKE EUGHGHH WHY!!! and the BULLSHIT they pulled their to force lucy into that role like

what i woulda GIVEN for like either a swap of HP and Lucy were HP seduces the presidents wife to get close to him and THAT coulda been a bit funny the presidents wife being into HP coulda been comedic. and HP woulda have 100% just killed valentines ass

OR even better, Lucy and HP taking that task on together, infiltrating's Valentines house together. HP and Lucy sibling moments.. HP connecting to Lucy and seeing her younger brother in Lucy and tying into her character...

THEN THE WHOLE THING WITH VALENTINE IS SO HORRENDOUS ITS JUST UPSETTING

Valentines character ranges from straight up horrible to just boring. Like he coulda been a fun crazy US president they kill. but hes just, gross and boring. Taking D4C away from him. doesn't deserve such a swag stand

THEN THE SHIT AT THE FUCKING STUPID ASS LAST CHAPTERS WITH ALT DIEGO

like i went from excited for even a semblance for extra diego content to really not fuckin caring. Alt Diego literally was just boring and i dont care about the world like i did Scary Monsters. and he carried none of base world diegos charm.. THE N THEY PULL ONE LAST NASTY SCENE BETWEEN HIM AND LUCY ON THE WAY OUT. LIKE WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ARAKI MY FUCKING GOD MAN

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Twitter ー Subaru Sakamaki [2019 Compilation]

–> This post includes all tweets posted on the official Rejet Twitter account for Subaru Sakamaki (@DiaLoverSubaruS) in 2019.

Shuu l Reiji l Ayato l Laito l Subaru l Ruki l Kou l Yuma l Azusa l Carla l Shin l Kino

January 4, 2019

> The fuck’s Kanato doing outside? He was carrying a bottle of syrup or something

> Uwah...He started eating it

--> In Kanato’s Tweets on this day, he is talking about how the snow might taste like cotton candy if he puts syrup on it. :P

> I don’t need it. Just throw it away

February 14, 2019

> Ah? I don’t need your fuckin’ chocolates. Give them to some other guy who might like them. ...Wha!? Don’t make that face as if you’re ‘bout to burst out into tears! You want to give them to me that badly? ...Fine! You leave me with no other choice, so I’ll take them. I won’t accept this kind of stuff from anyone but you though.

February 18, 2019

> I had to pair up with Ruki for a school event the other day, he kept on ordering me ‘round, it was really annoyin’...

> Bet he looked down on me ‘cause I’m his junior

> He was more talkative than I thought, I wish he would just shut up

March 14, 2019

> Fuck

> Yuma’s here

> If people find out I visited this store, it’s gonna suck

> Ah

March 19, 2019

> Because Shuu got woken up by the banging of a frying pan yesterday?

March 28, 2019

> Someone’s makin’ a ruckus outside of my room. Who the fuck’s screaming?

> Kou? God, that guy’s so persistent

April 1, 2019

> Get away from me

> It’s Mukami Ruki

June 11, 2019

> The days have gotten longer

> Who the fuck would wear something so over the top?

> No way it suits me

July 7, 2019

> Leave me alone #TanabataWishes

August 7, 2019

> You got time now?

> You should come to the festival tomorrow too. Even a boring party becomes somewhat bearable when you’re there

> You ready? Hurry up

August 16, 2019

> Why do I have to buy sugar on my way home? Reiji should just go himself

> This really is a drag

August 22, 2019

> Fuck. How long does this festival of the death last?

> By the way, the fuck’s that? The fluffy thing on top of your head. A hair accessoiry? 

> I-I guess it suits you?

October 11, 2019

> Ahー

> Can’t sleep

> Guess I’ll move my body a little

October 29, 2019

> ...Che

> Do something ‘bout this sickingly sweet smell. No matter how much I suck, I only crave more. At this rate, you won’t last

> Or should I just suck you dry already? Then we’ll be together forever. What do you prefer?

October 31, 2019

> Unbelievable

> I asked for a lamp to use inside my coffin

> I never ordered an eyepatch

> Actually...I feel like I’ve seen this thing somewhere before

November 4, 2019

> You’ll celebrate my birthday again this year? I don’t really want you to, honestly. I’m only celebrating with you ‘cause you seem happy. Also, having you congratulate me doesn’t feel half bad. ...God, stop being that cute. I won’t be able to hold back.

November 6, 2019

> Fuck off. Don’t talk to me

> Che. Don’t talk as if you know me. The fuck does a measly caterpillar know?

–> They are doing a Parody of Alice in Wonderland on this day because of a Dark Wonderland event which was going on during the beginning of November. 

> I don’t give a damn

November 21, 2019

> Azusa. One of your brothers is here. Come take him back already

> Hurry up. Kou’s a fuckin’ pain in the ass

December 11, 2019

> Who cares ‘bout the cold? I’m right here in front of you, so don’t be getting distracted by other things

December 24, 2019

> Merry Christmas

> Don’t just look at the Christmas decorations, but pay some attention to me too. ...N-Not that I’m lonely or anything!

[aanotheruniverse]

Something close to my heart I wrote a few years ago

THE SUICIDE CLINIC 

CIARAN HARDIE 

 The Waiting Room Nobody made eye contact at the Suicide Clinic. Everybody knew why you were there. If you are about to kill yourself, small talk is not really a high priority. As George craned his neck to take in the high ceiling, he was reminded of the similarly high ceilings in airports, and the Suicide Clinic is a sort of an airport - a temporary drop-off point between life and death. The Clinics all looked the same inside: spacious, fashionably modern, with wide white corridors, littered with suicide prevention signs and pretentiously artistic glass panels. They were the type of place where the floor squeaks as you drag your feet across it. To George's left side was a black man, in his fifties, whose short hair had started to turn white. Chancing a glance at him, George couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to him, and how his life had brought him to this moment. On his left, was an elderly woman clutching a kitsch pink handbag. A man sat in the corner of the room, dressed like a rocker, had his head firmly in his hands. Amidst the waiting room, George felt his individuality and personality slip away; he was just another face in the crowd. He felt, and not just in this moment alone, merely an observant to the world, and not a participant. He was simply being. Nothing happens after death, it’s all just biology and chemistry. Life, George thought, my life, maybe life itself is wholly insignificant objectively, so he had stopped bothering to try to add any subjective meaning to his life either. Although everything is, eventually it will not be, so why bother? Before Emma had taken her own life, George had never really given suicide and the means of suicide much thought, which can be cited as a good thing. Carbon monoxide poisoning is pretty painless, and you could even sleep through it, but there’s a bit of a tedious wait. Best to get it over with as quick as possible with something like hanging, but that’s a tad dark and unpleasant. Suicide bombing would be quick, but George didn’t know the first thing about improvising an explosive. Lethal injection lacks the sex appeal of exploding, or setting yourself on fire, or whatever, and a pill overdose would be too painful. At the Clinics, they provide you with the most sought-after method of suicide - although a difficult commodity to come by in England - a handgun. You would think the handgun would be the ultimate solution to a quick and easy suicide, but all sorts can go wrong. People attempt to shoot themselves from funny angles and often, they shoot only their ears off, or their nose, or part of their chin, and some even miss entirely. If a non-fatal shot were to be fired, there are medics waiting on site at the Clinic, but there would only be one bullet per gun at a time, so you only had one chance to get it right. If you were to miss, you would have to get a new ticket and wait all over again. Once you were dead, the Body Disposers would come and take care of your remains. Afterwards, the room is tidied spotless for the next person. As the unattractive glare from the overly-polished floor caught George’s eye, he was stuck by the institution’s obsession with cleanliness; would people really care if the room they were coming to die in were a little dirty? When George had collected his ticket (Number #227) from the annoyingly pretty receptionist, she had explained the procedure and he had to fill out a form, savouring the Clinic from any responsibility over your imminent death. They also let you choose what you hear before you die. George had known this in advance and had brought with him a CD of himself and Emma talking. One night, a couple of years ago now, Emma had interrupted one of his recording sessions, and he had accidentally left the tape running for hours, and recorded their conversation. They laughed about it and listened to the tape back after realising. Now that she was dead, and things had changed so severely, it felt like a tape from another universe, a relic of a time that now it is over, felt like it had never really existed in the first place. You also got to choose what image was projected in front of you as you die too, and he had brought a photograph of Emma from when he first met her. First there were designer handbags, then designer babies, and now, you could even design your own death. They didn’t want people to kill themselves, but local authorities couldn’t deal with the amount of blood and carcass painting their streets. Washing out the high street every morning, before the foggy-eyed, grey-faced consumers came to... consume, became somewhat of a chore. First there was the Super Hose, which lived up to its name only in its size, and not in efficiency. A team of Body Disposers would hose down the streets and it would all be drained down the newly introduced sewer system - the Bloodstream. The larger pieces, too big to be collanderised, would be put in the back of a lorry and driven off to an infirmary. Naturally, people revolted. They didn’t like the Super Hose, they didn’t like the strewn organs down their high street, and they especially didn’t like the Body Disposers, with their threatening red jumpsuits. George, who was fairly up to date with current affairs, remembered how it all had started: a research team in Europe had been controversially investigating if suicide-prone individuals would be more likely to commit suicide if the process was facilitated for them. George could no longer recall the results of the experiment, and it had become irrelevant now anyway, as the English government had leapt onto the idea, and implemented Suicide Clinics in every major town to cope with the epidemic. A place you could go to kill yourself, and not make so much of a mess for everybody left here still existing once you were gone. 24/7, 365, a place to die. Everywhere had a McDonald’s and a Suicide Clinic. It was supply and demand. People still threw themselves off buildings, however. Some people just refuse to conform to committing in the way they are “supposed” to commit. Drowning maintained a popular alternative too, and it handily came without the dreaded stigma of pavement bombing. There was one case, George remembered, in the news, where one lake was deemed such a spot of idyllic beauty that it had to be dredged due to the sheer number of bodies in it. Of course, the biggest concern to the authorities was simply why were so many people suddenly killing themselves? What had happened in order to make suicide rates increase tenfold? Even now, nobody really knows. As George’s mind wandered the history of the Clinics, he ran in to the question that had driven him in to one of them. Why, like all the other hundreds of thousands of people, had Emma killed herself? She was the one who had handled the break-up; she was the one who’d carried on with her life and her degree and seemed unchanged by things. George was the one who had been made redundant; the one who begged for her back; the one whose life had shrivelled up to being no more than an exercise of misery. Yet two weeks ago to the day, George had received the news: Emma, like all the others, had walked in to a Suicide Clinic, collected her ticket, waited her turn, and ended her life. 14 days of looking for answers had driven George to do the same. Still, in this waiting room, as he anticipated his death, George couldn’t help but wonder why? TPs (Technological People) - “Robots” had been deemed a derogatory term - had certainly had something to do with the other suicides. If there was a TP that could do your job, within a few weeks, you would be out of work. That’s what had happened to George, who was once a recruitment consultant for the IT industry, but now there was a computer that could do his job better, and for free. Conglomerates totally replaced the working human race with TPs. As you would conduct your life; shopping, eating, working, living, you were no longer greeted by human faces, but by metallic, dead-eyed, machines. Technology had sucked all the life out of the world, and days and weeks could go by without seeing another human face. Human social interaction all but died out, and friendship can no longer exist in these conditions, unless it is virtual. George wondered all the time, what is everybody doing? The human race has never been so unproductive. After millennia of rapid evolution in the right direction, we have just ceased. We slowed down, and then we stopped altogether. Nobody is doing anything, they are just existing. Observants, and not participants. That’s the fundamental problem, George thought, people’s lives aren’t worth living anymore, and the people are realising it. Shit, he was realising it after all, and now had come to do the same as all the others. A collective air of nihilism is present at every turning. We are opting out of the game; we just don’t want to play any more. Every day, another lieu of faces at the Clinic, another batch of people who won’t play, if they don’t see the point in playing. The cliches about finding yourself, determining your own happiness, and bringing meaning in to your own life don’t stick anymore, and the futility overwhelms. What’s the fucking point? They want an objective answer to that question. George became aware that he had started breathing heavily, and tried to decelerate his thinking, and calm himself down. He realised he had been clutching his right thigh very hard, and let go. He looked around the room once more; everybody shared the same expression of utter resignation. In the 54th minute since George had collected his ticket (#227), the silence in the room reached a no longer bearable decibel, and his fidgeting could no longer oppress his discomfort. Desperately, George wanted to engage the rest of the room in conversation. He had no idea what he wanted to say to all of these strangers, but the urge was definitely there. Feeling an excruciating sensation rise up in to his chest, George found himself on his feet and then over at the annoyingly pretty ticket- giver’s desk. “Hi”, George spoke, with no idea what he was doing. “Hi”, the ticket-giver looked up at him with an ill-disguised look of animosity. “Er, do you reckon I could, like, wait somewhere else? Is there like a private waiting room?” “Does there seem to be a problem with this waiting room?” “No, it’s not that, it’s just, I feel, uncomfortable waiting around with all these strangers”. “Sir, I can assure you that everybody feels the same. Please take your seat”. “Okay, well that doesn’t make anybody feel any better”. “Sir, please take your seat and wait for your number to be called”. George opened his mouth to respond, but found himself heading back to his seat. Across the room, sitting with her legs crossed, was Emma. George blinked in incredulity, but she was still there. She gave him a flirtatious wave. George got to his feet and tentatively walked across the room. “Yes?”, said the girl, and after a beat, “Can I help you?” “No. Sorry. I just thought you were someone else.” Back in his seat, George mentally kicked himself for being so stupid. She’s dead, he told himself, she’s dead. “Seeing me everywhere are you, George?”, Emma’s voice hit his ears, “Can’t get me out of your head?” The black man was no longer sitting to the left of George. Instead, Emma was there, with her perfect legs and tangled brown mane of hair. Laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of it all, George replied, “Can’t get you out of my head? Well that’s why I’m here isn’t it?” “What if it doesn’t work though?”, said Emma, as if the idea gave her great pleasure, “What if after you kill yourself there’s some sort of afterlife based on your living psychology? What if your eternity is me?” “Then I’ll have to find a a way to kill myself again”. “You can only kill yourself once, silly”. “Oh I know, it’s a grand shame, I would have done it loads by now, if I could. I’d wake up every morning any kill myself” “So dramatic”. Even a hallucinatory image of Emma could still get right under George’s skin. “You always call me dramatic, when you’re the one that’s dramatic” “You’re the one who’s speaking to a dead girl”. Anger swelled in George but before he could release a venomous retort, Emma was gone, and the black man was back in her place. “Okay, number 227, you’re up next”, the ticket-giver’s announcement brought George back to reality. “If you’d like to follow me”. Checking his ticket, George got to his feet yet again and followed her out of the waiting room and down a narrow, white corridor. The gravity of the situation hit George at once, and he felt the need to gag. When they reached the menacing black door, George stifled his queasiness. George resented himself for not wanting to embarrass himself in front of the ticket-giver. “Everything in the room will be exactly as you’ve been told”, she said, “The sound will already be playing, and when you enter the room, the image you’ve chosen will be projected in front of you. The gun is on a platform right in the centre of the room, you can’t miss it”. She held the black door open for him, and George entered the last room he would ever enter. The door closed behind him, and he was left alone. The CD of George and Emma was already playing over the sound system, and his stomach continued to churn unpleasantly. But, there was no image being projected. Rather, Emma herself was standing in front of George, looking as she had in the photo George had chosen. Her school uniform brought out her immaturity, and George felt a twinge as this is how she had looked when he had first fallen in love with her. “Of course you chose to have an image of me where I’m in my school uniform. You’re such a perv”, she said, purposefully emphasising her disdain. “This is how you looked when I first met you”. “Yeah, before you knew me. Before you knew you couldn’t control me, and I wasn’t really just a little girl. You put me in this uniform because you want to keep up the charade of me loving you and you controlling me”. How could she still be torturing me, George thought. Even now, after she’s gone, she’s still hellbent on torturing me. “It wasn’t a charade”, George replied, flatly. “I didn’t love you, George. I never did. I was young, I didn’t know”. “That doesn’t mean anything. You still loved me”. He was yelling already; George was always quick to yell at her, as she had liked to point out when she was still alive. “No I didn’t, George”. At times like these, George didn’t know if he loved her or hated her. Clearly, the more obvious feeling was hate, and every single word she said was like a personal calculated insult to him. And yet, he was so willing to get her to submit to him and admit that she loved him. “I wish I could still kill you. I wish you weren’t dead, purely for that reason. I want to bring you back to life just to choke you with my bare fucking hands”. “Well, I’m here. And hey, you don’t even need to use your hands. There’s a gun”. George was totally disoriented, and things had stopped making sense altogether... maybe he was already dead. He didn’t know, but with immense satisfaction, he picked up with gun and pulled the trigger. It was a perfect shot, hitting her square in the temple, and blood that was so dark it was more black than red, began to gush from the wound. She stayed standing. “What the fuck?” George looked around and hit himself in the face, trying to put a stop to the insanity, “Why aren’t you dead?” “George, silly, you think that’s going to kill me. This isn’t what it looks like; you’re still in the waiting room”. The walls around George warped and blurred until he realised he was in fact, still sitting in his chair in the waiting room. Emma was now sitting in the ticket-giver’s chair behind the desk, and she teased George from across the room, “Think you’re going crazy, George? Think you’re losing it yet?” “I have nothing to lose”, he muttered. “Seriously! All the fucking drama all the fucking time!” She seemed to be completely unaware of the fact that she was provoking him. “Shut the fuck up”. He had to end it, and a force comparable to nothing he had felt before flung him to his feet and he made his way over to the desk. He was going to hit her... he was going to hit her so fucking hard... And she vanished again, out of thin air, leaving George trembling on his feet in the middle of the waiting room. Knowing her next move, he turned around and as he expected, saw her sitting in his chair, looking very casual, and very, very happy. She reached into her pocket, pulled out a pack of cigarettes, and lit one. “You can’t smoke in here”. Now, standing outside of the Clinic, each puffing on a cigarette, George racked his brain once more for answers. “You didn’t get this done, I don’t believe you. I know there’s something else going on here; this type of shit wouldn’t make sense to you”. “Because you know me so well?” God, why can’t she just turn it off for one second, George thought to himself. “Okay, maybe you’re right, maybe I don’t know you at all. I think that sometimes, that I just had it wrong the whole time. That we were so close and yet at the same time, we really didn’t know each other at all. But we spent 4 years together, Emma, I know for a fact that you did not kill yourself. You wouldn’t go to once of these places”. He was certain of it. “But you would, I know that. You have, after all”. “Only because you did”. “But you just said I didn’t do it!” “Okay, only because you allegedly did it!” “That’s not fun. You’re just gunna give up? You’re not gunna figure it out?” “I can’t figure you out”. “Draaaaaaamaaaaa”. A sigh escaped George. “Come on, George, if I killed myself, I wouldn’t have used this place. I would have just done it, you know, jumped off a bridge or slit my fucking wrists or something. I wouldn’t have come and sat in a queue and all this shit. Come on, you know I wouldn’t have done that”. “I don’t know why I’m here”. This was the truest thing George had said in recent memory. “You would’ve ended up at this place, whether you thought I had or not. This is so George; it’s got your name written all over it. You were always gonna kill yourself.” “I dunno. I guess, although everything is, eventually it will not be... So why bother?” “Come on, George, think. What happened to me?” George furrowed his brow, and concentrated. He visualised Emma, and his memories of Emma, trying to remember every moment they had shared together, in the hope of something somewhere igniting an epiphany. He remembered walking down his old suburban street with her, hand in hand. She would always instinctively take his hand, and not taking her hand would always cue an argument. He remembered how when she had so suddenly fallen out of love with him, how she had flinched when he had tried to touch her. He longed for the days when she would take his hand, without him having to take hers. Deeper memories... he remembered hugging her late one night down the high street after a comment from a tramp had made her cry. How something so stupid like a comment from a tramp could have shattered her, and made her need him. How truly fragile she had been underneath her tough demeanour. He remembered the smell of her hair, the smooth of her legs, and then, he remembered the sensation of her legs pressed against his head, and his tongue inside her vagina. He remembered how she would wither and moan, and clutch at the bedsheets. Was any of it real? Everything is so brief. Everything feels like it wasn’t true, like it was just a delusion, George thought. To him, everything just felt like some fucked up chemical imbalance in his brain. Too many drugs. Too much TV. But her, such a pretty, perfect thing. She had to have been real, the only real thing in a sea of distortion. Although everything is, eventually it will not be... George jolted in his chair in the waiting room. Emma was gone. The elderly woman sitting to George’s right turned to him, and said, “Were you thinking about eating out my pussy?” “What?!” George said, flabbergasted. It took a moment for Emma to take the place of the elderly woman. “I said were you thinking about eating my pussy? You were, weren’t you? Your lip quivers when you think about cunnilingus, George. I’m dead, you know, isn’t that a bit necrophilic?” “You’re not fucking dead!”, George yelled at the top of his lungs, and as he did, all the lights in the Clinic abruptly turned off, and all the people around George and Emma became immobile. Emma erupted in to tears and teared towards the door to the corridor. He couldn’t let her get away, she had to answer for this, so he pelted after her down the long, white corridor, calling after her. “Emma, wait! Emma! Emma! Come back!” She was impossibly quick, quicker than Emma had really been, quicker than anyone had ever been. George reached another door which had no handle, and began banging on it. “Emma, let me in! Emma, let me in, let me in now!” Emma called back from the other side of the door, her voice thick with authentic terror, “Leave me alone! I’m scared.” “I’m nothing to be fucking scared of Emma!” She had always said she was scared. Knowing she wouldn’t submit to persuasion alone at the time being, George kicked down the door which came off with surprising ease. George found himself in his flat kitchen, just as he had left it this morning before heading out. Emma was darting across the flat towards the front door, but he managed to catch up and grab her arm as she tried to negotiate her way around the furniture. “LET GO OF ME!” she squealed, still crying. “Emma, wait!”, there was tremendous force in George’s voice, “Listen to me”. “You’re fucking hurting me, George”. “How could you do that to me?!”, he screamed square in to her face, “How could you fuck those other guys! You’re fucking evil!” “Then let me go! Let me go, George, now!” Without thinking, he punched her and she fell to the floor. She was still fighting back, and with all his strength, he restrained her and, still without thinking, began to strangle her. She gasped and clawed at his face with her nails, but he wasn’t to be stopped. She pressed her thumbs in to his eye sockets, momentarily blinding him, and when he regained his vision, he was back in the waiting room. The lights were still off, the people around were still all in a dead sleep, and Emma was still in the place of the elderly woman. “Oooh, maybe that’s what happened!”, she said with tantalising excitement, “Maybe you killed me! What if you’re crazy? Like, like actually crazy. What if you killed me and you don’t even remember killing me?” “Emma, shut up. This is serious”. “What? Is it not dramatic enough for you?” The anger George had felt had climaxed with the sensation of asphyxiating her, and now he felt nothing but sad. “Were you scared of me, Emma?”, he asked. “Yes”. “Why?” “You’re obsessive, George. It’s too much. It’s scary”. The words instantly drew tears out of George’s eyes, and he wept. “Don’t you care that you hurt me?” Emma exhaled, and sounded more serious than she was normally capable of being. “You stole my childhood, George. You scandalised me”. “What fucking good is a childhood anyway! Hey! Who wants one!”, the notion of a spoilt childhood brought back George’s anger as if it hadn’t gone anywhere. She looked back at him with the same repulse that he recalled vividly from their last ever encounter. She spoke the same words, “I’m gonna go now”. George clutched her shoulder and searched her eyes for the person he once knew. “No, please, please don’t go Emma, not again. Don’t make me do this, please, please don’t leave me”. “See you on the other side, George” “NOOOO!” She had evaporated. The lights to the Clinic turned back on, and the people around came back to life. But George was really screaming this time, and the people around him jumped back in their seats. He wasn’t able to get out any words, he was just wailing at the top of his lungs. The ticket-giver instantly dashed out of her seat and over to George. “Sir, please, calm down, sir, sir, please, if you’d like to come with me”. “Fuck off!”, George mustered and threw his shoulder away from her as she tried to touch it. Two especially muscly Body Disposers with vacant faces barged in to the waiting area and each grabbed one of George’s arms. George was taken aback by their strength, and started flailing his legs around. The people in the waiting room looked in horror as George shouted, “No! This is wrong! This is all wrong!” The Body Disposers dragged George out of the waiting room, down the white corridor, and through yet another door. This time they had entered a much smaller room than any of the others, and the walls all matched the red of the Disposer’s ghastly jumpsuits. Before George could react, one of the Body Disposers was injecting him with a foul-smelling blue liquid. “What the fuck is that?!” George exclaimed. Nobody responded. After he had been injected, the Body Disposers softened their grip on him and he was able to break free, push the ticketgiver out of the way, and he flung open the door and began sprinting for the waiting room. The Disposers and the ticket-giver gave chase, and his feet slipped on the squeaky corridor floor. George felt as though his legs were filling up with concrete, and movement became an increasing struggle. His back hunched and he felt as though something invisible was pulling him down to the floor. Still, he pushed on and reached the waiting room door, and without a second of conscious-decision making, flung himself at the black man’s feet. “Don’t kill yourself. Please. Please, don’t kill yourself”. A few people jumped to their feet, and even the rocker with his head in his hands looked up at the commotion. The man looked back at him as if George had just asked for his hand in marriage. The concrete sensation as now filling his entire body, and he felt like an anchor was forcing him through the ground. “DON’T KILL YOURSELVES”, George screamed at the rest of the waiting room, and before the Body Disposers grabbed him again, he fell to the floor, unconscious.

[horansqueen]

AM Conversations : chapter 41

A Niall Horan fanfiction ; rated MA

CHAPTER 1 || CHAPTER 2 || CHAPTER 3 || CHAPTER 4 || CHAPTER 5 || CHAPTER 6 || CHAPTER 7 || CHAPTER 8 || CHAPTER 9 || CHAPTER 10 || CHAPTER 11 || CHAPTER 12 || CHAPTER 13 || CHAPTER 14 || CHAPTER 15 || CHAPTER 16 || CHAPTER 17 || CHAPTER 18 || CHAPTER 19 || CHAPTER 20 || CHAPTER 21 || CHAPTER 22 || CHAPTER 23 || CHAPTER 24 || CHAPTER 25 || CHAPTER 26 || CHAPTER 27 || CHAPTER 28 || CHAPTER 29 || CHAPTER 30 || CHAPTER 31 || CHAPTER 32 || CHAPTER 33 || CHAPTER 34 || CHAPTER 35 || CHAPTER 36 || CHAPTER 37 || CHAPTER 38 || CHAPTER 39 || CHAPTER 40

NOTES:

-one chapter is her pov, the next is his. -3.9k -im sorry, i never proofread, i hate it. -there WILL be smut. but not only smut. -this is a romance, comedy, smut story. -for the summary, check my MASTERLIST.

- if you want to be notified when this is updated, please message me or leave a comment!

- you can send me questions and theories and comments. tbh they all make me SO SO SO SOOOO HAPPY! and make me want to write more! you can also tell me if there are things you WANT to happen. you never know, i may add it :P

- note for this chapter: short smut scene. also, tell me how you felt! and if you thought something would happen or not and what you think of what did or didnt happen. not clear? just read, thank youuuu!

still no request for this chapter but i have a few planned very soon! PLEASE KEEP SENDING THEM!!! i love getting them! (ill reblog the post about it)

Chapter 41 : Her chapter

OLIVIA

I was surprised at how much Niall would insist to talk to me. I had heard about him a lot in the first week but when the second week started, he seemed to be a bit too busy and I totally understood. I missed him, but I didn't want to stop him from living his trip plenty and the way he had expected to, I just decided to be there when he had time and not make a big deal of when he would cancel our plans. It was only six weeks, and half of those were already over, I had a lifetime to spend with Niall, or at least I hoped for it, so there were no reason to try and make him feel bad about it.

Still, the fact that he called twice by himself on the same night and seemed impatient to talk to me made me feel slightly better. I wanted to believe him when he said he'd stay faithful, and I knew he loved me, but how many people have cheated on their lover even thought they loved them? I knew I was being insecure but I felt like I was also being realist. I was well aware we didn't play for the same league, and that our statuses were different, but I liked to believe it didn't matter to him.

"I wish I was there with you too, petal." he whispered as I stared at him.

I wanted to tell him that if that's really what he wanted, he should jump in a plane and come back to me but I knew it was not reasonable and that not only would I be disappointed, I would also end up feeling guilty for asking, whether he'd come back or not, and I was pretty sure he wouldn't anyway.

We remained a while just looking at each other without talking and i loved the way his eyes roamed on my face. He finally moved slightly in bed and leaned his head on the pillow behind him. He was in the dark, his face only lighted up by the weak light of his phone, and it hit me how tired he was but also how handsome he was. I always knew, of course. I used to spend so much time analyzing his facial epressions and enjoying the way he laughed, but at this exact moment, it was even more obvious and the good thing was, he was looking at me in a loving way. He was staring at me in a romantic way, a way I would have never even dared to hope for, but it was happening.

"What were you saying before I parked?" I asked with a smirk, raising my eyebrows.

His lips curled too and he chuckled, shaking his head slightly. I loved knowing I could make him laugh.

"I said I wanted to feel myself inside you so bad, darling."

And I loved knowing I could make him horny, too.

"Let me just get inside-"

"No."he cut me, surprising me a bit. "Start where you are. Move your shirt up, petal, let me see your tits."

"Are you serious?" I wondered in a low tone, noticing his eyes falling on my body and making me suddenly very self-conscious.

"Dead serious, Liv. I haven't seen or touched you in three weeks and i've been sharing rooms with my cousins every damn night." he groaned low. "Please, show me your tits."

I bit my bottom lip, glancing around to see if someone could see me but I ended up just moving my hoodie up along with the shirt I was wearing under. I had decided not to wear a bra at all and I had to admit I was being a bit lazy in the past weeks but I missed Niall and I was too sad to care.

"Fuck, I wish I could touch you." he groaned again.

I waited a few seconds and finally brought one of my hands on my breasts, rubbing them slowly as I watched his face change. He moved slightly on his seat and shook his head, his eyes following my hands.

"I want my hands all over you." he whispered, making me biting my bottom lip.

"I want your mouth all over me."

I watched as he moved again and he finally positioned his phone better. I held my breath when I saw his fingers wrapped around his cock and my whole body started throbbing at the sight. I looked as his hand moved up on his length, reaching his tip, and he squeezed it a bit before going all the way back down, letting out a groan again.

I couldn't handle it anymore and grabbed my keys but just as I opened the door, I heard my boyfriend's voice again.

"Stay right where you are."

His voice was louder than normal and firm, and it made my heart skip a beat as I stopped moving completely. After a few seconds, I closed my door again and licked my lips, staring at him. I loved when he told me what to do and I just wanted to do everything he'd tell me to.

"I'll let you know when you can get inside."

I nodded quickly and pressed my thighs together, feeling my inner thighs throb harder. Three weeks felt so long without him and the bed felt so fucking empty but at that exact moment, I realized how far he was even more. If he was a few hours away, i'd drive to him just to feel him inside me and then drive back, but it was impossible. I missed the warmth of his body and I was craving him and his hands on me. I wanted to feel his breath on my neck so bad that something in my stomach stirred.

"Move your phone a bit darling, and slip your hand in your pants. I want to watch you touch yourself."

I was grateful he didn't ask me to get naked because it was a bit cold outside and did exactly what he asked. I felt my cold fingers brush against my cit and let out a short whimper as my legs tensed.

"Haven't touched myself in so long, fuck." he admitted, making me bite my bottom lip. "Should have brought you with me."

My lips curled and I chuckled slightly, tilting my head.

"So you could just use me to get laid and then abandon me in crappy motels?"

"So what?" he smirked and raised his eyebrows. "Don't pretend you wouldn't want to be my little fuck toy."

My smile fell and I pressed my lips together, making him smirk even more. I pressed the tip of one of my fingers on my clit and whimpered more.

"I already am." I whispered.

"Yea? Tell me."

I pushed two of my fingers inside me and breathed in, my heartbeats accelerate at the feeling. I wanted him so bad it was barely bearable.

"I'm your little fuck toy." I murmured as I noticed his eyes dropping to my lips and then between my legs. "I'm all yours, you own me."

"Are you wet, petal?" he asked before I slowly nodded. "Take your fingers out and suck on them."

Reluctantly, I took my hand out of my pants and very slowly brought my fingers to my mouth, brushing them on my bottom lip and finally letting my tongue slide on them. After a few seconds, I pushed them in my mouth and sucked on them while staring at him. I had never felt as attractive to someone as I did to Niall and it was a great feeling.

"Okay just get in the house now." he ordered quickly. "You close the door behind yourself and get totally naked. Do it."

I didn't have time to time, I just rushed out of the car with my phone in hands and unlocked the door quickly before getting in and closing it behind me. I put the phone on the first counter I saw and took both my shirts off before pulling down my pants and panties.

"Get on the couch."

I tried to think of a way to make things easier and finally just leaned the phone on an arm's couch as I got on my knees, on the couch too, facing my phone. Quickly, I brought my hand between my legs and started touching myself again. I couldn't explain how horny I was and I was pretty sure I wouldn't last long.

"Mm, it's hell without you, you know it, right?" i confessed with a short whimper as I pushed my fingers inside me again. "I miss you."

I brought my free hand to my breasts and felt my eyes flutter as I was bringing myself closer and loser to an orgasm.

"It's hell without you too." he breathed, moving his phone a bit, making me see that he was jerking himself harder.

The sight made my whole body tense and my lips parted. I was about to say something when he groaned again.

"Pet, you're gonna make me cum."

That thought  made me reach my peak and I started shaking. My eyes fluttered close but I forced myself to keep them open just to stare at him.

"Niall, fuck... oh god, Niall!"

I heard him moan louder this time and watched as his face twisted before my eyes dropped to his cock. Watching him cum all over himself made my orgasm even stronger and I let myself fall on the couch when my heartbeats started decelerating. I grabbed my phone and brought it up, biting my bottom lip as I looked at him slightly embarrassed.

"Three weeks without you, three weeks without an orgasm." I pointed out after a minute of silence.

"That's way too long." he chuckled. "And hearing you moan my name as you came? Fuck, darling, you need to do that more often."

"I agree." my lips curled and I just licked them as a shiver crossed my whole body.

"Cold?" he asked as I nodded. "You can dress back up, i'll wait."

I sent him a fond smile and put the phone done before getting up and going to his room to get a pair of sweatpants and when I came back, I grabbed his hoodie again and put it on, leaving the rest of my clothes on the floor. I knew he'd hate it if he was here and I did plan on putting them in the laundry basket but it could wait. I came back and lied down, grabbing my phone again. He noticed my hoodie and smiled, moving his chin in my direction.

"Did you at least wash it?" he asked, making me shaking my head. "Disgusting."

I grimaced and he laughed but I just tilted my head.

"It barely smells like you anymore." I explained with a shrug. "You've been away for too long."

We stared at each other for what seemed like an hour and he finally passed his hand in his hair, making a cute mess of it before sighing low.

"I know." he replied cautiously. "I'll be back in three weeks though, you think you'll be okay?"

Something seemed to break in my chest and I was scared it was my heart but i ignored it and nodded a bit, sending him a sad smile. It was unfair of me to make him feel guilty and I swallowed my pain. He brought his phone closer and I tried to focus on how blue his eyes were but he stopped himself as soon as his lips parted. The door flew open and I saw movements behind him, hearing someone laugh.

"You alone?" Niall asked with a frown.

"Yea I think he'll be back late, maybe only in the morning." Willie explained. "Mate, the girl you left alone at the bar to come here? She was dirty!"

I felt my heart jump in my chest, not really knowing what it meant exactly but I could swear it was not something good. My smile fell and Niall quickly got up, showing his forefinger to his cousin and locking himself in the bathroom.

"Niall?" I asked in a murmur, swallowing again but my tears this time.

"No wait, Liv, it was just a girl flirting with me, nothing happened."

"Nothing happened because I accidentally called you? Or nothing would have happened anyway?"

I didn't want to be the hysterical jealous girlfriend but my boyfriend was on the other side of the world and it literally took the smallest thing to make my imagination run wild.

"Nothing would have happened, Olivia, I fucking swear on my life." he replied low, staring in my eyes. "I'm so sorry, I promise there's no reason to stress or anything. I love you and only you."

"Love and sex aren't always linked, Niall." I pointed out low, closing my eyes a few seconds.

"You're right, but this time, it is." he replied, making me frown. "I mean that this relationship is different. I would never do that to you."

I stared at him for a while and finally nodded gently. I trusted him, I always have and there was no reason for me to stop.

"Okay." I whispered so low I was not sure he heard me.

"I should sleep, it's late here." he replied softly. "But I'll text you tomorrow, okay?"

I nodded again, very slowly this time, and he raised his eyebrows, his facial expressions still very serious.

"Trust me, Liv. I'll never lie to you." he added. "I love you, goodnight darling."

"Goodnight Nee, I love you too."

The screen went black for a few seconds and then my phone's background appeared. I put my phone on my stomach and closed my eyes, trying to let my emotions get the best of me but after a few minutes I couldn't handle it anymore and started crying. I didn't even try to wipe the tears off my cheeks and I even allowed myself to sob for a while, feeling my tears slide down on my neck. I missed him, I was scared to lose him but most of all, I hated to feel like I was not enough, or like I didn't deserve him. It was an intense and disgusting feeling and it always made me feel like shit. I don't know how long I remained laying there on his couch crying but after a while, I took my phone and sent a quick text to Louis.

'SOS'

He replied so quick I sort of guessed he was already on his phone.

'I'm on my way.'

I turned on my side, my face pressed on the couch, trying to get rid of the bad feelings inside me without much success. It took me every ounce of strength I had left to get off the couch and walk to the door when Louis rang. He saw my face and immediately grimaced at my sight.

"You look horrible."

"And you look like that stupid emoji."

This time, he let out a short but loud laugh before wrapping both his arms around my neck and grossly kiss the side of my head, leaving a wet trace on purpose. I groaned and pushed him slightly.

"And suddenly it's like Niall never left." I half-joked.

I took a step back and sighed, closing my eyes. I felt Louis' hands on my uppe arms and opened my eyes again only to meet his. He sent me a small but understanding smile and my heart twisted in my chest.

"It's okay to be weak, Liv, you know?" he let out in a soft voice. "I know you, you're exactly like me. Let it go, okay? I'm not here to judge you and if it can reassure you, you're one of the strongest persons i've ever met."

I stared at him for a few seconds, swallowing hard again, and without thinking, I just threw myself in his arms. He held me tight against him and I buried my face in his shirt, crying without shame. I felt his hands rub my back gently as he remained silent. I was grateful for him and for his presence, especially since we barely knew each other, but I had to admit that he had been a real friend in the past few weeks.

"Come on, let's get you a drink darling."

I followed him to the kitchen, letting my feet rub against the floor in a lazy way, and watched as he took a few bottles out.

"Shooters and wine, how's that?"

I sent him a small smile and he replied with a big one, handing me the bottles as he grabbed glasses. We ended up on the couch and I brought my knees up, wrapping my arms around them as he poured us vodka in a shooter glass.

"To our new friendship." he said after handing me one.

I raised it up and quickly downed it and as soon as I put it on the coffee table, he filled it up again. I chuckled but accepted and drank it quickly, the liquid not burning my throat like the first one did.

I don't know how many glasses we drank but I was pretty sure the bottle of vodka wasn't even near being empty when we found it. The bottle of wine, on the other hand, I knew was full when Louis got it out of the fridge but I watched him fill my glass with what was left of it. I took a sip and put it on the table, leaning against the couch. We had talked a lot and I always enjoyed it. At first, I explained everything that happened with Niall and he told me how much Niall cared and loved me. The conversation changed and we literally ended up talking about anything that would come to mind, whether it was relating anecdotes or sharing our opinions of different subjects. Louis was funny and interesting and there was not a boring moment with him.

I felt a wave of fatigue hit me and leaned my head on his shoulder, closing my eyes.

"I'm so sorry about El." I mumbled, feeling drunker suddenly. "I know how much you love her."

"Yea well, shit happens." he replied after a moment of silence.

I moved my head up and frowned, staring at him until his eyes met mine.

"It's okay to be weak, Lou, you know?" I let out, using his exact words and making him smile.

I could see his eyes sparkle, or maybe it was only the light of the living room reflecting in them, but it made me smile more.

"You're right." he just admitted, grabbing both my hands between his. "Thanks so much for being there."

I chuckled and shook my head.

"No thanks to you for being there for me." I argued. "I mean I know Niall asked you to but yea, thank you anyway."

We stared at each other for a while and I felt better knowing I wouldn't spend the whole night alone again. He was drunk, probably drunker than me, and there was no way he could drive.

"You can use one of Niall's guest rooms if you want." I shrugged, getting up.

He pulled on my hands and I fell back on the couch, laughing a bit.

"I don't think you realize how beautiful you are, Olivia."

His words took me by surprised and my lips parted. My eyes roamed on his face and his grip tightened slightly on my hands. Mine were cold and the warmth of his made me feel better.

"You think Niall is gonna cheat on you, or stop loving you, or stop wanting you..." he added, shaking his head. "It's not true, he won't. I don't know why you keep saying he's out of your league. There's no league. There's just this strong bond between you two that will never be destroyed. It's obvious for all of us. You need to see it, too. Because I know exactly what Niall sees in you, and what Harry saw too. Why can't you see it?"

I felt my eyes water as I listened to him. He seemed sincere and I didn't know how to react or what to say. I just let my eyes roam on his face as I squeezed his fingers as tight as I could, nodding slowly. I couldn't talk, knowing y voice would crack, and moved a bit closer, leaning my head on his shoulder again.

I thought about Niall and how much I missed him. I thought about how he was everything to me, and about how bad I wanted this to last. I thought about everything we went through and every moment I was grateful for. I thought for so long that I ended up falling asleep.

When I woke up, it was already morning and I groaned, feeling the soft but annoying sun rays hit my face. I turned my head away and rubbed my face on the thighs my head was leaned on, feeling a shiver run up my spine.

"Mm, Niall." I whimpered very low, my eyes still closed.

"Mm, wrong lad, love."

Louis' voice took me by surprise and I quickly sat up, letting out a short wail and grimacing due to the sudden headache hitting me. Louis laughed and when I opened my eyes, he was looking at me with a big smile.

"'Morning!"

"Fuck mornings." I pointed out, making him laugh even more.

"Yea I hate them too." he admitted, raising his nose up. "How about we take some meds and go back to sleep in a real bed for a few more hours?"

"It's like you're reading my mind, Tommo."

He got up and extended his hand out. I grabbed it slowly and he helped me up as I grabbed my phone to bring it with me. I followed him to the bathroom but decided to check my messages, smiling suddenly when I saw Niall had sent me a few. I felt lighter despite all the alcohol still making me dizzy and read them all a few times.

'I'm thinking of you. I'm always thinking of you.'

'I wish you were here. I almost took a plane back after we hung up.'

'No one is you. I love you.'

The last one made my heart melt and when I looked up, Louis was smirking, reading Niall's texts over my shoulders.

"Hey! It's private!"

"Don't be all offended, you literally told me how you liked to be fucked last night."

I stared at him as my heart threatened to jump out of my throat. He laughed again and handed me two pills and a glass of water.

"Really?" I asked with a grimace after swallowing them.

"Oh really!" he chuckled. "Come on, go back to bed. I'll be right there if you need me."

He pointed out an other room and I nodded, walking to Niall's room and letting myself fall in his bed. His pillow still smelled a bit like him and I wrapped my arms around it, pressing my nose on it and inhaling deeply. I waited a few minutes but couldn’t seem to fall asleep without answering his text messages and I just took my phone that was laying next to me on the mattress, typing a message and trying not to make any typos.

'You are the love of my life. I'll always be waiting for you.'

[expression-in-its-essence]

The Goldfinch movie.

7 min 26 secs in : Why the fuck did they start the movie like that. Why didn't the explosion take place? Theo's mom's apartment? His anxiety? Also.. why do they keep cutting the scenes abruptly? They ain't tweets... No limit.. then??

8 min 2 sec in : Okay they went to the apartment. Audrey's sweater deserved more screen time. The lipstain on the mug in focus *chef's kiss* poetic cinema!

9 min 19 sec in : Do you see what I see? Tom Cable's face has a stark resemblance to Boris's face. Did Theo have a crush on him?

9 min 54 sec in : Mr Barbour's hand is shaking. I like that they put it in there. He was sick. Nice. (I'd imagined Audrey's apartment building entrance like they showed the Barbour's apartment building entrance. Wild.)

11 min 8 sec in : Don't shove it into his face that y'all are fancy okay? He's not used to that life style. He didn't have maids making his bed. ARE YOU GIVING HIM DRUGS, MRS BARBOUR? But you just glared at your husband for offering him the same sort of thing?? Oh God. Poor child. "it's perfectly understandable" my ass. You gave him meds just because your sleep was getting affected.

14 min 39 sec : Woah woah woah Theo wtf you're so smol how'd you do that? Also... Again. The frame of Theo and Tom standing close and Theo and Boris standing close when they kissed, Theo is wearing the same damn sweater.

16 min 58 sec in : Ayyyy Jeffery Wright!

20 min 33 sec in : "He drank a lot", Theo about his dad. Honey just wait up, you will too. (The grilled sandwich and the cute lil smile 😍 also this is the first time since the movie started that Oakes' voice isn't deep.)

23 min 54 sec in : Wizard of Oz poster, I see you!

24 min 19 sec in : I love how Oakes is expressing being caught off guard. Theo knows he did something bad and every time he's dealing with something he didn't expect to deal with, he's like OMG THEY KNOW ABOUT THE PAINTING AND IM FUCKED even if no one knows.

25 min 1 sec in : The glasses made a difference. He went from mature to cute. Angry bird to angry birb.

25 min 44 sec in : Another sweater? Or was this THE sweater of Audrey? (Off topic but Oakes is hella cute. I could murder anyone who hurts him.)

29 min 9 sec in : Pippa doesn't remember or doesn't wanna remember? There was something in her eyes that was hard to read. Also, why doesn't anyone say 'I'm sorry about your mom' to Theo? Do Americans not care? It's weird to see no response when he tells people that Audrey is dead.

31 min 17 sec in : "The Goldfinch, destroyed"? Then why is Theo upset. Good riddance. Oh yeah. I know why. It's Donna Tartt we're talking about.

32 min 39 sec in : Hobie just casually predicting the future. "It's only fake if you pass it on as an original". Theo's like, "noted, gonna do exactly that".

34 min 16 sec in : Why does Theo write like a five year old child? That's toddler handwriting! And omg all the Andy-prom-dress memes are making sense now. (Also did I mention that Mrs Barbour seems more selfish in the film than she does in the book. Like hey I'm putting up with this kid because he helps my kid. He's serving a purpose for me. What the hell.) (How old is Andy anyway? He looks younger than Theo. I think he's different. Didn't grow up like other kids. That was mentioned in the book right?)

35 min 20 sec in : Ayyy Hobie's earring!

35 min 49 sec in : He shopped for himself? Nice! Didn't know kids could shop without adult supervision in the West. (Because they can't in the East.)

35 min 50 sec in : Ayyyy Sarah Paulson! Damn she's hot. How can you dislike her? *heart eyes*

37 min 30 sec in : I can't bring myself to hate Luke Wilson since Skeleton Twins but SHUT THE FUCK UP LARRY! AUDREY DESERVED BETTER. Look at how Larry and Xandra are looking at the place like they're vultures.

39 min 34 sec : They got the airport scene right. STOP GIVING HIM DRUGS WTH IS WRONG WITH THE ADULTS IN THIS MOVIE!

41 min 12 sec in : Ayyy Popper!!!!!

43 min 27 sec in : It just dawned on Theo that he's alone. Oh god. My poor baby.

45 min 12 sec in : Let me take this moment to say that Ashleigh Cummings is pretty. And I finally get why y'all were pissed at the non linear storyline and the weird voiceovers. Guess I'd been prepared for that so it didn't really suck that much.

49 min 30 sec in : I'd imagined Boreo reunion like the Platt Theo reunion. In the day. Dang it. Also... Adult Platt Barbour was not supposed to be good looking? In the book?

55 min 34 sec in : Without context, none of it could make sense. Apologies to whoever didn't read the book beforehand. Crowley fucked this up.

58 min in : Ayyyy Finn Wolfhard! BORIS IS HERE AND IM SO EXCITED IDK WHY

1 hour in : It's such a Boris thing to leave the bag unzipped.

1 hour 3 min 20 sec in : Slumdog Millionaire's Jai Ho (2008) is playing in the background. The only song that I've recognized so far. Wow. Lets me know about the time setting. Nice.

1 hr 3 min in : Someone gif " That cost twenty dollars!" *Stare* "That would have cost twenty dollars!"

1 hr 8 min in : So Boris's room is exactly like I had imagined but Theo's room isn't. Boris just mentioned Kotku though.

1 hr 9 min 14 sec in : Isn't it hella hot in Vegas? Why are they wearing sweaters? Or does drug intake make you more vulnerable to the environment?

1 hr 10 min 15 sec in : Xandra Theo argument : gold. "Cocktail sausages that you like." I wanna laugh in Crowley's face. What was he thinking?? Omg I'm dying.

1 hr 11 min 17 sec in : The slap sound didn't work??

1 hr 13 min 53 sec in : I like serious Boris better.

1 hr 14 min in : The slum house Audrey dream thing was not in the book. That's an entirely new addition.

1 hr 18 min 26 sec in : The Welty Theo scene is awesome. The sound effects work. I feel suffocated. The ambulance noise fiasco is also nicely pulled off. (also Theo's Yellow bag was dirty af then how did it get all clean when he didn't even do anything to it?)

1 hr 20 min 57 sec in : Shhhh Potter.

1 hr 22 min in : Holy shit he got slapped twice!! Ouch! And Larry's audacity to tell Theo to stop with the crying?? Good thing he died. Asshole.

1 hr 25 min in : "You don't tell me a lot of things but that's okay". I see what you did there, Boris. Which was of course, I love you.

1 hr 26 min in : "Act normal" - Theo knows his way around drugs pretty well, doesn't he?

1 hr 30 min in : "No family No friends" line punched me in the face. (Also awww popchik's excuse was the last resort for Boris to make Theo stay.)

1 hr 31 min 17 sec in : That pause after "What do you have to tell me?". You can clearly see Boris struggling to hold something back. Which was of course, I love you.

1 hr 31 min 34 sec in : What the fuck is that music? Oh heyyyyyy they kissed!-- he fucking runs away?? Also what kind of a kangaroo runs like that? (Yes, the taxi driver watched. I don't have to wonder anymore.) (They didn't address why he took the bus instead of flying?)

1 hr 33 min in : I didn't imagine Welty's room like that at all. Also why doesn't Hobie seem happy to see Theo again?

1 hr 35 min in : Longer stretches of one storyline are kinda bearable. From drugs in storage unit to waking up beside Kitsey. We got Vegas and Young Theo. Nice. (Also, who the heck puts jewelry in shoes? Is Theo that dumb? And now I can't think of anything else than Boris piercing his ear for the emerald earring. Tumblr has fucked it up bad.)

1 hr 43 min in : They nailed the Kitsey Theo confrontation.

1 hr 44 min in : Ayyy Ozma of Oz!

1 hr 48 min in : I noticed it before but I wasn't sure... Now I am. Pippa has Welty's ring. On her finger. At all times. (also, is NYC always that noisy? Must suck to walk on the roads.)

1 hr 52 min 23 sec in : They nailed the Theo Pippa date. What's that song playing in the background? I want the name. It's almost like two hours and I still haven't seen Aneurin Barnard once. Why! (Jerome's mentioned in the movie btw.)

1 hr 52 min 51 sec in : Complained too soon. Boris is sat in the dark doing god knows what. My man Aneurin is here!

1 hr 53 min 37 sec in : BOREO REUNIONNNNNN - no don't look at me like that I only watched it thrice.

1 hr 56 min in : Boris saying "it's someone else" with a knowing look and Theo looking at him. The frickin yearning.

1 hr 57 min in : Boris is like you're unhappy, I'm here, we're both rich, let's f*ck. "We could"... What are you suggesting dude he's repressed!

1 hr 58 min in : "you unwrapped it and showed it to me." So many meanings. The heart, the love the soul... Wow. Good for you, screen play writers! ( It's kinda hilarious how Boris got mad at Theo for never quote unquote fucking opening it.)

2 hr 1 min in : I'm calling it. They're going to fuck up the Theo Hobie confrontation. They put it on the wrong time. And they also fucked up the text from the book.

2 hr 5 min 48 sec in : Even Platt is saving his sister's face. Also where did Todd go? Did he never grow up? I wish Mrs Barbour didn't use Theo like she did.

2 hr 7 min in : The frame where Boris is between Kitsey and Theo. Chef's kiss.

2 hr 10 min 54 sec in : *intense music playing* Boris put his leg up on the table and I burst into laughter THOSE ARE THE FAMOUS FUCK ME PUMPS.

2 hr 11 min in : AAAAA THE FOREHEAD TOUCH AAAAAAA (Theo just knows without looking that Boris is close enough to touch? Theo are you sure you don't feel feelings for him?)

2 hr 12 min in : Theo is so worried that I'm not sure if it's for Boris or for losing the painting again. Omg he just murdered a man. Oh god.

2 hr 14 min in : Theo is spiralling. In the movie they imply that Hobie played a part in him attempting suicide. So wrong. Poor Hobie. In the book that wasn't the case.

2 hr 15 min in : The transition of the Goldfinch into Audrey, wow. Also, is it the first time we're seeing her? The movie started so long ago that I've forgotten if I saw Theo and Audrey in the museum. Boris following right after Audrey? That's a subliminal message. Boris is here to rescue y'all.

2 hr 16 min in : No shit Boris is freaking out right now.

2 hr 17 min in : The diner scene. They're both crying. "Happy Christmas, Potter" - which was of course, I love you.

2 hr 18 min in : No don't you dare compare Audrey and Mrs Barbour. Audrey would never drug her child or use him for her benefit.

2 hr 20 min in : Poor kid bumps into his mom lol. I found it funny.

On the whole

The movie was nice if you'd read the book beforehand. The first hour was steak, The second hour was Korean BBQ and the rest of the twenty minutes were minced beef. If you get what I mean. Weird analogy. It could have been much better. But it was really very nice in some places. Most places I'd say.

I didn't like how the pop songs ruined the mood of certain moments. I didn't like how you couldn't hear the conversation over the music playing. For example in the engagement party when Platt and Theo talked. Or in the diner scene.

Both Borises killed the accent thing. They tried their best. Cut them some slack.

Oakes deserves an Oscar for holding up this movie on his smol shoulders. I was shook at how a kid could act that well.

Popchik deserved more screen time. I'm still pissed they didn't add the Popchik Boris reunion. But then they couldn't make it chronological, what were we supposed to expect anyway.

Ansel Elgort y'all. Theo sure improved his handwriting lol. Ansel's writing is nice. He was actually good in this movie. Better than he was in The Fault In Our Stars. The internet is just mean. The critics too. I will never understand the hate.

All in all, it could have been a better adaptation but it didn't suck as bad as everyone made it out to be. John Clownery should be punished nonetheless. Special shout-out to Roger Deakins for making it work.