#class struggle clown movie

[morfitties]

Realising that in a somewhat twisted way Dead Poets Society is the perfect coming of age movie. There’s this friendgroup that have been together for years, a new kid joins and becomes part of the group, a new teacher changes their lives, they start to become the dead poets society, one of them grows as a writer, another as an actor, two others are geniuses, there’s one that’s head over heels and thinks about nothing else, a know-it-all, there’s the class clown that’s actually a sweetheart. And just as they’re all about to be the happiest they’ve ever been it starts to go wrong and fall apart and the actor has the best moments of his life on stage with his family watching, not his shit parents, but the six boys and teacher who he loves more than anything; then his day, his life really, is ruined by his fucking father. His last act of agency is deciding to kill himself before he has no choice in anything anymore.

Somehow there is still 30 minutes left to the movie.

We see the best friend having to tell the friendgroup, and then the boy who loved his best friend, that’s his dead. We see them break apart from the heartbreak and the loss, none of them will ever be the same. Just a month before they were joking and living and free and now they are grieving and the love has nowhere to go now that their friend is gone. Then the best friend gets kicked out and sent away for punching another group member because he felt so betrayed. Then they lose the teacher that taught them how to truly be free.

Dead Poets Society has every emotion possible and a character for every kind of teenager and as someone who’s freshly 18 and out of school this is how growing up feels. It was never as drastic as the poet’s situation, but splitting apart, everyone going seperate ways, struggling to see each other, losing one another, being forced into lives you don’t want to live with all of your happiest days behind you and it hurts a lot, it’s a subsection of grief because it really feels like loss.

On a side note trying not to use their names was so hard??? I think about them so much they’re basically my friends Fr Fr

[buckysgrace]

Steve Harrington Headcanons

These are just what I picture, nothing written in stone <3

Was a surprise baby. I think his parents were both near or at their thirties when he was born? His mom really struggled with getting pregnant so he was her one and only <3

Looks just like his dad but has his mama's big brown eyes. She would pinch his little cheeks and call him her little Booboo.

Very colicky and whiny baby. Only ever wanted to be held. I also think he was born a little early, just a smidge delayed when it came to meeting his milestones

Definitely was a mama's boy when he was little. They sort of drifted apart when she put more attention towards his dad to sort out their marriage issues.

His dad has a bad tendency of sleeping around. I could definitely see Steve having some secret siblings that he doesn't ever know about.

He was an ornery kid, full of energy and was unable to stay still. He also played a lot of sports, so his parents weren't bothered by him

His dad absolutely locked their bedroom door and kept Steve's far apart so he couldn't crawl into bed with them.

Was spanked a lot as a little kid because he couldn't sit still. The wooden spoon was his dad's weapon of choice.

Officially got a nanny/babysitter when his father forgot to pick him up hours after baseball practice ended. Finally ended up walking home but got in trouble for that as well

Really struggled with reading, well mainly all through his school career. His letters just tend to get mixed up.

Struggles with organization. If he's writing a paper, he needs to jot down his thoughts before he forgets them. Thus why some parts don't fit into the right spot.

I think teachers were sort of assholes to him?? He was definitely a goofy/class clown type so I think when he was actually struggling in school they thought he was just trying to be funny

Okay listen... he was absolutely a shit in school. He was rich, in good health and handsome. He was playing up to the hierarchy shit. For sure had a coming to Jesus moment later but yeah he was an ass

Although I do think he was usually all talk, no bite. Probably did his fair share of shoving or tripping to be funny. The few altercations that turned physical were usually solved by his former muscle, Tommy.

Oh Tommy. Best friends since they were in preschool. Both of them were always assigned into the same learning groups. Tommy also struggled a lot with his reading so they meshed really well together.

Sticks his tongue out if he's concentrating hard on his school work. Tommy has yanked on it more than once.

He counts with his fingers!!! Ask him what 8 + 2 is and he has to count on his fingers just to be sure.

Teachers dreaded getting them in class lol. Purposely worked out their schedules so they were nearly identical.

You could move Steve but he was still going to find whomever was near him to speak to/be loud with.

I feel like Tommy had specific genre of movies that he enjoyed, which was 100% monster movies. They watched a ton of old Godzilla movies (although Steve will never, ever admit to it)

Rip if you were on the opposite team and they were playing dodgeball. They showed no mercy during dodgeball.

His dad probably doesn't think Steve will amount to much. I think his dad is really smart as is his mom so Steve doesn't quite fit in with his struggles??

Will ramble for hours about something he is interested in (also speaks with his hands a lot). Be prepared tho he jumps from point A to D back to B and it's just all over the place

Really good at bowling and will brag about it

Very judgmental but he's trying to work on it

I think he can sober up fairly quickly?? Gets all flushed when he drinks tho. Will suggest karaoke.

When he smokes weed he's so giggly. Squinting eyes and a dopey smile the whole time. Thinks everything is hilarious. Do not leave food around him, he will hog it and eat it all

Questions everything during movies. Will barely get through 5 minutes in a movie before he has to ask about something.

You need your back cracked? Steve is your guy. He will twist you into a pretzel to get that spot that's bothering you tho

Terrible at gambling. Does not have a poker face. Also a pretty shitty liar.

Likes raisins. Also loves prunes. And eggs. Grape juice is his favorite. Well, grape flavored anything is his favorite.

If it's 3 am and he's hungry he is chowing down on a slice of bread and a block of cheese.

Prefers goat milk over cow milk

Has terrible allergies. Speaking of, if he's sick? the biggest baby. He cannot take of himself. Probably because he had to do it for so long as a child.

Fuck ankle socks. Fuck them. He will burn them on fire.

Master s'more maker

Took cooking classes on the down low. Fairly good now that he's done so

Anything that his partner likes he will definitely begin to like

Falls asleep on his tummy a lot. He also drools but gets embarrassed if you point that out

Stopped shaving once he was no longer on the swimming team. Won't admit it but does enjoy it if you run your fingers through his chest hair.

He always has long conversations with you before he falls asleep. His eyes are usually closed and he's on the brink of passing out, but he likes listening to you speak.

Hated reading for the longest time. Finally gets into it for real later in life when he realizes he's only punishing himself by thinking of the past.

A love letter boy. He does have a dictionary on standby to triple check that he has spelt everything correctly. Loves to talk on the phone too. If you're calling him you best be setting aside at least two hours because he will be updating you on every little thing.

Terrible at drawing. He could not draw a stick figure to save his life.

Was forced into music lessons as a kid. He is really good playing the piano. Also knows how to play the violin. Does sing in the shower (and is good at it)

Wants a big family because he doesn't want his kids to feel lonely like he was. He is much better in handling kids when they're a little more grown, rather than itty bitty.

More of a dog person but that's because he swears up and down there was a stray cat with one eye that would sit outside his window and stare at him at night.

[gogotti]

hey!! first off, your writing is just *chef's kiss*, i love it!!!

could i pretty please request smutty michael myers (og or rz) with an afab reader who is kinda silly, snarky, very much a funny friend/class clown type personality, and who likes egging him on and taunting him because they love when he's extra rough with them? they're just a wee bit of a brat who likes being scared and wants to be put in their place. tyyyy 💗🥺

First, thank you so much!! You are the first *chef's kiss* I've ever got so this made me very happy!!! I chose RZ for this because bark bark lmfaooo but I hope you enjoy it! I don't know if I interpreted this the right way so if I didn't I'm sorry, you are more than welcome to try again! ;) I did it half hc's and half fic cause I HAD to write the smutty part out.

and if you'd like to see more Michael Myers I have a few other fics!!

Michael Myers/Reader - NSFW

Warnings: none really, readers being silly goofy and fucking with Michael, Michael chokes you, Michael gets to cum but you don't :( I'm trying something new and using the word "cunt" instead of "pussy" so that's in there too

Messing with Michael was by far your favorite activity. 

Michael’s minding his business, sitting in his art room making masks, and you? You’ve been tearing small pieces of paper from the notepad at your side and trying to get one to land in his ear.

Michael’s trying to peacefully watch a movie and you're in the other room with the remote, turning it on and off to fuck with him and making him think he’s sitting on it

Every time he would huff and grunt at you, you would playfully do it back, effectively making any communication impossible. And earning you a warning growl when you passed the 5-minute mark

(Which was 3 minutes longer than Michael would have normally tolerated, so you saw it as a win)

Earlier you managed to find his candy stash, which he very much prided himself on hiding from you, and decided to parade around the house with his last remaining Hersey bar. You weren’t gonna eat it, of course, you were going to let him think you were.

The look on his face, which for once was one that you couldn't decipher, made chills go down your spine, and as Michael passed by you couldn't help but cower slightly.

You literally ran back to his stash and put it back. You also made a note to yourself to buy him more, just in case.

You even went as far as hiding his jumpsuit, which looking back at the situation from your standpoint now, was the best and maybe, possibly, the worst decision you’ve made yet.

It was obvious Michael wanted to go out tonight, his patience had been worn thin since he woke up and you were, intentionally, the cause of it. You were sitting comfortably in the center of your shared bed, watching and grinning every time Michael turned his back to you as he paced the room, desperately trying to remember where he last put his jumpsuit. You had been silent until this point, wanting Michael to simmer in his frustration a bit longer before you offered nothing but a witty comment to aggravate him further.

Your eyes swept around the room slowly, eventually settling on the closet he tore apart in his search. His jumpsuit sat comfortably under his pillow, folded as flat as you could get it in a fit of giggles, so Michael’s fit of destruction was very unnecessary, as well as a fitting punishment for you to deal with later. You glanced at Michal again, who stood silently across from you. “Michael, maybe you missed something in the clo-..!”

Michael rushed at you suddenly, you didn't have time to avoid the crushing fist that clamped around your neck; your sputtering and grabbing at Michael’s hand did not stop him from pushing you back against the headboard and knocking the wind out of you. As you struggled to breathe Michael stood above you, blue eyes staring down with less than violent intentions, surprisingly. His eyes were settled on his jumpsuit, folded and tossed haphazardly under his pillow, which had been tossed to the side in his fit. He knew that you were the one who put it there, so his eyes shot to you, and he huffed at your struggle to look innocent. “Oh… It’s under your pillow, Michael…” You looked at him cautiously before moving to pick it up and mindlessly wipe and mess with it. “Hm… wonder how it got there… I could’ve sworn-!!”

Again, Michael grabbed at your throat, only this time he kept you suspended. He quickly swiped everything but a single pillow off of the bed, tossing you down, and roughly flipping you over when you landed. It was much easier to let him toss you around, so you didn't bother moving; instead, you settled into your spot, quickly getting comfortable underneath him, a cocky grin forming on your face that you were glad Michael wasn't paying attention too. The sound of the nightstand being rummaged through grabbed your attention, and you could only turn your head slightly before he roughly grabbed your hair, shoving you into the pillow below you. You moaned into the pillow at the grip he had on your hair, just barely able to hear Michael’s huff from above you. The sudden noise of Michael tossing something onto the dresser drew your attention again, and only now could you hear the wet noises coming from Michael. 

He took his hand off of your head and slipped it underneath you, scooping you up slightly and moving around a bit before placing his cock between your thighs, close enough so the tip could bump against your cunt. You hummed as you felt Michael begin to move, placing you down and beginning to thrust slowly. His cock brushed against your clit deliciously, and your body immedietly melted at the feeling, soft breaths and moans spilling from your mouth as Michael rocked slowly above you. Michael shifted, the bed dipping on your sides slightly, and you quickly assumed he was adjusting, only to have your hair pulled roughly, your head flying back so you could see Michael perfectly. He quickly let go of your hair, now reaching for your throat and grabbing harshly. He placed his other hand on your hip, squeezing a bruise into your side as he began to thrust faster. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, and high-pitched whines and moans poured from your hanging jaw, unable to close because of the brutal pleasure Michael was putting you through. 

His cock rammed into your clit, the feeling making your cunt clench around nothing and drawing a loud plea from your mouth. “Michael, please, I want you inside!” You whined loudly as Michael huffed and continued to roughly fuck your thighs, seemingly ignoring your plea. A yelp left your mouth as Michael slightly slowed for a moment to thrust himself into your cunt, grunting at the feeling of your walls clenching down onto his cock, and continuing his brutal pace. The stretch of Michael suddenly entering you was painful, but each rough thrust sent a shock of pleasure through you that made you bite into your lip in order to keep yourself grounded. It wasn't long before you felt the familiar pull of an orgasm begin to form in your core, and you could tell Michael was getting closer too, his thrusts began to get rougher and sloppier. You needed more, but whining and pleading for Michael to do literally anything to finally make you cum seemed useless since Michael wasn’t paying any attention to you. You could feel Micheal's hips stutter and slow as he thrust himself balls deep, filling your cunt. 

You whined as Michael slowed, and that feeling in your core began to fade until you were right back where you started: desperately needing Michael to rail you. He slowly pulled out and your eyes widened, “You're not done, are you?”

Michael of course didn't respond, instead, you watched as he got off of the bed and snatched his jumpsuit off of the floor, carelessly walking into the bathroom as you stared at him in shock. He came out of the bathroom shortly after, immediately turning toward the door to leave causing you to sit up quickly, speaking loud enough to get his attention.

“What if I said I’m sorry?”

[winged-self-indulgence]

Sacrifice!MC where I blinked and suddenly I had 1.7K words of whatever this is. I am definitely going to edit this later

It was dark, wherever you were. Wherever those masked cultists had brought you.

Shadows hid the dilapidated surroundings, held back only by the truly impressive array of Bath and Body Work candles and the scarce moonlight shining in through the shattered roof. Still, it was barely enough to illuminate the room you were in, but you could tell what it was. Or at least, what it used to be: the remains of an old church chapel. A burned-out husk of its former saving glory, with broken statuettes of angels strewn across the floor and the disfigured images of saints left dangling on the soot-stained walls. What little stone that hadn’t been obscured by decades of ash and grime was completely covered in layers of fresh graffiti. Pentacles, upside down crosses, magic staves, someone’s brave attempt at an ouroboros encircling a moon. Whatever cult had taken you; they clearly hadn’t been at this very long.

You strained against the ropes binding your arms to the corners of the low altar, but they held. Your fingers were bruised raw from struggling to untie the knots, but every time you felt the loops give one of the cultists would march over and redo them with a sort of nervous efficiency. Eventually you’d given up, vowing to at least wait until they left. Even if you’d managed to escape, you didn’t fancy your odds against five other people. Especially when one of them was holding a knife.

It was a strange instrument, a scarlet blade jutting out from an obsidian-black hilt. There was a pommel at the end that looked as though something had been carved onto it. Though you were wary of the blade, it didn’t seem like they were planning on killing you with it. You’d heard something about a sacrifice, demonic affinity, and yadda yadda unlimited wealth, insane riches, convincing their ex to get back together, etc. etc.

So, these clowns, whoever they were, planned to leave you tied up in this gross place as a snack for some demon? Fuck that. As soon as these weirdoes were gone you planned on getting out no matter what, even if you had to chew your bindings off. That still didn’t stop the thrum of panic when the one with the knife ran its edge over your throat and added your blood to the strange symbol encircling the stone slab. Finally, they called out for something in clumsy Latin while the other four made low humming sounds that reminded you more of being in a yoga class than at the center of a diabolical summoning ritual.

Perhaps they didn’t want to stay and watch you get eaten (cowards. At least commit to the experience). Perhaps leaving you was part of the rules. Regardless, soon you were alone in the dark and about to resume your struggle when one of the candles in the corner flickered. You froze, heartbeat ratcheting up when the flame sputtered once, twice, and then died.

As though that was a signal, every single candle in the room began to die. One by one, a cascade of inky blackness and scented grey smoke invaded the temple. You stared up at the ceiling, trying to force yourself to stay calm, to breathe normally. There had to be a reasonable explanation for this. Maybe it was the wind-

You gave yourself a mental slap before the thought could complete itself. That was literally how people died in horror movies!  

“Ha, it worked!”

You shrieked at the strange voice, eyes promptly darting to the source whereupon another scream began to build up in your throat. Up in the rafters crouched a monstrous creature, all red skin and short horns that curled up into pronged tips. Black, bat-like wings stretched upwards, partly blocking the moon. A nasty snarling smirk curved across its thin mouth, revealing rows of sharp teeth and a line of drool dripping from the corner.

The creature jumped down, landing right at the side of the altar, salivating at your prone form while your mind struggled to make sense of this impossibility. You flinched away from the taloned hands, grimacing in disgust when the – demon? Demon – stuck out a slimy tongue and dragged it up the side of your face as though it were savoring you.

“Stupid little humans,” they cackled. “So ready and willing to believe anything from a creature they don’t even understand. If all it takes is a few empty promises, I’ll soon have legions of human servants willing to sell their souls to me–!”

“Ah, I wondered what was going on.”

Like a radio being switched off, the demon above you went silent. No, they literally froze in place. Terrified as you were, an irrepressibly curious part of you couldn’t help but crane your neck as far as the ropes would allow in order to peek behind them and see who was speaking.

They…looked normal. A tall, masculine frame draped in relatively casual clothing. Chestnut brown hair covered most of their face, fading into mahogany at the edges, and revealing only a pair of plump lips stretched in an easy and undoubtedly dangerous smirk. Aside from the black choker around their throat and the array of rings decorating their fingers, this person looked completely ordinary.

Yet, as soon as they spoke, the demon that had been menacing you just a scant second ago began to back away, nearly tripping over their own feet and wings to put distance between themselves and the lazily approaching figure. “L-Lord Zion! I only uh–! I was just…! Th-This was simply a test, you see!”

“Hm?” The person – the other demon? – cocked their head, the smile never leaving their face. Now that they were closer, you could see that the thing moving behind them was a tail. Spade-shaped and blood red as it flicked back and forth in lazy arcs. Those fingers, heavy with silver jewelry, were tipped with viciously sharp talons that they raised to tap their chin in a mockingly thoughtful manner. “Go on.”

“I-It was to see how easily humans could be manipulated!” The other demon stuttered, eyes darting around the room for some escape. When those eyes landed on you, your heart sank as you realized exactly what was going to happen a second before they spoke. “In fact, I was planning to give you this sacrifice! Consider it a token of my loyalty!”

The demon – Lord Zion they’d said – turned to you as though they had just noticed your presence in the room. Your eyes met through the gloom, and in spite of your fear you couldn’t help but think that their eyes were beautiful. Burning coals, molten flame encased behind amber, a heat that threatened to devour you whole. Those eyes widened through the haze of hair, and in a second the demon was looming over you with the toothiest smile you’d ever seen outside of a shark.

“Well, well, well,” they cooed, admiring you with the sort of fervent obsession one might give to a work of art. A hand brushed through your hair, across your temple, before cupping your cheek. “What have we here? Aren’t you precious, hm? Aw, did that mean demon frighten you, little human? There, there.”

The words and tone were condescending, but you weren’t exactly flush with options, and at least this demon didn’t seem inclined to eat you. You winced when their hold on you shifted, and their wrist brushed against the open would on your neck. Like clockwork, their eyes snapped to the line of blood sluggishly pooling in the hollow of your collar.

“Oh you poor thing,” the demon tipped your head to the side, the strength behind a single finger making it clear that you wouldn’t have been able to resist them even if you’d wanted to try. “Let me…”

A surprised whimper broke past your lips. A long tongue trailed its way up the side of your throat, lapping over your skin as though your blood were some delicious treat. Honey-sweet instead of the tang of bitter copper. Those lips latched onto your flesh, nuzzling and nipping while you thrashed and struggled to tamp down the unholy noises emanating from both of you. The sounds of sucking, saliva, lips smacking, you would have thought the demon was enjoying the finest of meals if not for your own high-pitched moans, wails, and pleas.

Finally the demon pulled himself back with a gasp, a feral grin carving his face in a truly infernal mien. “Oh. Oh, I am never letting go of you, Dove.”

“D-Does that mean I’m free to go?”

Your face erupted with heat. You’d forgotten that the other demon was still there. Judging by the irritated expression that crossed Lord Zion’s face, they’d forgotten as well.

They exhaled a long, loud sigh, and then snapped their fingers. In an instant, a bubbling mass of shadows rose beneath the demon’s feet. Slowly, exponentially, they began to sink into the murk like quicksand. “Let me see,” Lord Zion hummed thoughtfully. “You planned to overthrow me, attempted to manipulate humans in my name, and even used my symbol as part of the ritual? All while believing I would never learn of your weak attempts to usurp my throne? For your crimes, you ought to be tortured and slaughtered in front of my court.”

“M-My Lord, I was only–!”

“However,” Lord Zion cut them off, lips twisting in a sadistic smile. One that gained a hint of softness when they looked at you. A clawed finger played with a lock of your hair, twisting it gently before moving to undo your bindings. “Your one redeeming outcome is finding my human for me. So I shall be merciful in return. Pick one.”

“One?” The demon stammered, now only a head straining to stay afloat above the burbling gloom. “O-One what?”

“I said I was planning to kill and torture you, didn’t I?” Lord Zion said placidly, finishing with the ropes and hooking their arms beneath your exhausted body. You leaned against them, unable to even complain about being held bridal style. “So pick one. Think carefully though. Neither will be quick.”

[princesslightgiggles]

Date night

It had been weeks of playful banter, stolen glances, and the occasional note passed during history class. Eddie Munson, with his wild hair and devil-may-care attitude, had somehow managed to capture your attention. He was the class clown, always finding a way to make you laugh, and you had started to look forward to his antics every day.

One afternoon, as the bell rang and you both gathered your books, Eddie turned to you, his usual smirk replaced with a nervous smile. "Hey, Y/N," he started, rubbing the back of his neck. "So, uh, there's this movie playing Friday night. Thought maybe you'd like to go with me?"

Your heart skipped a beat. "I'd love to, Eddie."

Friday night arrived, and you met Eddie at the theater. The movie was a typical 80s action flick, but you barely paid attention. Halfway through, you rested your hand on Eddie's lap, your fingers idly tracing patterns on his knee through a hole in his ripped jeans.

Eddie's tensed under your touch, and you could feel his leg twitching slightly. When you glanced at him, he was biting his lip, trying to suppress a grin.

You continued throughout the movie, your fingers lightly scratching the skin through the hole in his jeans. Eddie squirmed in his seat, his attempts to remain still only making it more obvious that he was struggling.

After the movie, you both decided to take a walk. The night was cool, and the streets were quiet. As you walked, you couldn't help but bring up Eddie's fidgeting.

"Hey, Eddie," you began with a teasing tone, "you seemed a little… uncomfortable during the movie. Everything okay?"

He chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, uh, you know, what you were doing to my knee…. tickled… I guess”

"Really?" you said, pretending to be surprised. "I didn't realise I was tickling you so much."

Eddie flushed and looked at the floor.

You noticed he was embarrassed and asked “Eddie, what’s wrong?”

He looked at you, uncertainty in his eyes. “I uh….. I dunno.” he shrugged and looked at the floor again.

“I uh…..” he tried again, but Eddie had no idea how to put into words that he’d never been tickled before, it wasn’t exactly part of his unconventional upbringing and he felt really self-conscious and didn’t know how to react. Another thing to make him feel like a freak.

Eddie knew this was a stupid idea. He couldn’t believe his luck that such a beautiful, smart, funny girl would be interested in him in the first place and now he was blowing it by being weird…..

Eddie was suddenly plucked out of his reverie as your lips met his. His breath hitched in surprise before he kissed you back, his worries melting away.

After a while, you gently pulled away and looked at him, brushing some stray hair away from his face.

You smiled, giving his waist a playful squeeze. This time, he jumped, letting out a yelp that echoed down the empty street, but he also laughed, more relaxed than before.

You skittered your fingers up and down Eddies ribs and giggles poured out of him as he batted uselessly at your hands. “Y/N……. hahaha….. please……. staahahahp!” You brushed his hips and he yelped and caught your wrists in his hands.

Eddie looked at you, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "You're enjoying yourself, aren't you?"

"Maybe a little," you admitted, stepping closer to him. "But it's all in good fun, right?"

He smiled, nodding. "Yeah, I guess it is."

Without warning, you tackled him to the ground, both of you laughing as you continued to tickle him. Eddie's laughter was infectious, and soon you were both breathless, lying side by side on the cool grass.

Your lips met in a sweet, lingering kiss and you both knew this was just the beginning of something special. Eddie might not have had much experience with fun and games growing up, but he could feel he was going to make up for lost time with you.

[2braincellslz]

Hc's of the ST boys

Includes: Billy hargrove, Jonathan Byers, Eddie Munson. (I did Steve in a different post I think)

If you dont agree with me, cope.

Billy hargrove

Man is a closeted home of sexual.

It's gotten to the point where he rejects anything remotely gay just so people dont get any suspicious.

He loves Queen but wont admit it.

Definitely has a skin care routine.

(Drop the routine shawty)

Has never had to deal with zits or acne ever in his life.

He has been hunting once and he fucking hated it

He wants another Tattoo but he wont get one while living with Neil because the first time Neil blew up on him.

Treats his car better the anything else.

Def a cat person.

Hes a big spoon. He likes to be the one holding his partner close.

Likes to listen to music while he cuddles.

His love language is words of affirmation and physical affection.

He walks with his arm around his partner at all times. Wether it be around their waist or shoulders, or what not.

Hates giving gifts. He hates the struggle of trying to figure out what people want. Christmas is hell for him.

Hes a horror movie enjoyer.

Though he plays Basketball, he also really likes baseball.

Hates coffee shops for some reson.

Hes scared of clowns.

If there is a clown running at him, he would throw his partner in the way so he could get away.

He has a major sweet tooth. He loves chocolate.

He wants kids but gets really anxious at the thought because he dosnt want to become Neil.

Probably has a conceal carry license.

Has the high score on one of the arcade games that max frequents. No one can beat it.

Max gave him a surfboard shaped skateboard and he put it up on his wall.

He tried skating once and fell and hit his chin on this side of the road.

He never tried skating after that.

We all know that Billy skips. The school has to call home every time a student skips. So he rushes home and picks up the phone before his dad finds out.

Hes never in class but he is ace-ing all his classes.

He would definitely like Game Of Thrones.

Gets stoned every weekend with Eddie.

Jonathan Byers

He tried to play DnD with his broth once but he just couldn't understand the game.

He played a half-orc bard though.

Hes a great cook and he loves cook for others.

Can we just all admit Jonathan is a great father figure. I mean, we all know Steve is the mom, but come on.

Unlike Billy, he loves Gift Giving. Especially foods and sweets.

Valentines with him in spectacular. He treats you like a prince/princess/royal.

Is not a big reader. He will read if he has to but he rather not.

Has said "I dont know how to read." Before.

He likes the rain. Like, really likes the rain. He likes how calming it is.

He is one dehydrated bitch.

Because he is dehydrated he has to deal with all the consequences. Dry skin, chapped lips, headache, ache, so on and so on.

Because his lips are so chapped, he also has a major problem of licking them raw.

He likes to spend money on his partner but not himself. Even though he dosnt have a lot of money, he still get meaningful gifts.

Maybe he should teach Billy how to give gifts.

He believes is Ghots, Witches, and other stuff. After everything hes seen, he basically believes everything.

Love language is gift giving and physical affection.

He likes to have his partners head on his chest while they cuddle.

A very important part of being in a relationship to him is being able to play with someones hair while they cuddle.

Also likes listening to music while cuddling.

Shit as Spanish. RIP his grade.

He can sleep anywhere. His bed, class, the car, movie theater.

He just sleeps a lot.

He fell asleep while playing DnD by accident.

Probably has a pillow and a blanket in the back seat of his car.

Also probably carrys a med kit on the back of his car now.

Seems like the type to name his car. Probably dickTurbon or something like that.

Definitely likes Steely Dan.

Gets high with Billy and Eddie on friday nights.

I personally reject season 4 Johnathan so take that as you will.

Eddie Munson

A class fruity. Not sure what flavor but his is.

Has probably played some kind of classical instrument. Cello most likely.

If he did, he quit about a year or two in.

Shit in school as we all know.

Only really was good at English. He loves reading.

He likes reading to his partners. Especially while he cuddles with them.

He likes to have them resting on his chest as he reads them Lord Of The Rings, The Hobbit, other nerdy books.

He loves subs.

"The world can suck a egg!"

He loves to dance shimmy and shake.

Definitely would loved video games like RDR2, skyrim, the Sims, all that jazz.

Can not stand horror movies. Cant do zombies, slashers, thrillers, nothing. Can do it. Not at all.

He can only really stand Halloween.

Infact, he really likes Halloween.

His love language is words of affirmation and gifts.

Just like Jonathan, hes also really good at gifting.

Great listener (even if he dosnt seem like it) it's one of the main resons hes good at gift giving.

Number one gift to give is mixtapes. Obviously.

[richincolor]

New YA Releases This Week!

Three exciting new YA books are hitting shelves this week! What's on your TBR?

Suddenly a Murder by Lauren Muñoz

Seven friends throw a 1920s-themed party, where it’s all pretend–until one of them is murdered. One of Us Is Lying meets Knives Out in this killer locked-room mystery.

Someone brought a knife to the party.

To celebrate the end of high school, Izzy Morales joins her ride-or-die Kassidy and five friends on a 1920s-themed getaway at the glamorous Ashwood Manor. There, Izzy and her friends party in vintage dresses and expensive diamonds–until Kassidy’s boyfriend turns up dead.

Murdered, investigators declare when they arrive at the scene, and now every party guest is a suspect. There’s the girlfriend, in love. The other girl, in despair. The old friend, forlorn. The new friend, distressed. The brooding enigma. And then, there’s Izzy–the girl who brought the knife.

To find the killer, everyone must undergo a grueling interrogation, all while locked in an estate where, suddenly, the greatest luxury is innocence.

There’s No Way I’d Die First by Lisa Springer

Debut author Lisa Springer delivers a spine-tingling, contemporary horror that follows a scary movie buff as she hosts an elaborate Halloween bash on her family’s estate but soon finds the festivities upended when she and her guests are forced to test their survival skills in a deadly party game.

Noelle Layne knows horror. Every trope, every warning sign, every survival tactic. She even leads a successful movie club dedicated to the genre. Thus, who better to throw the ultimate, most exclusive Halloween party on all of Long Island?

And with the guest list including the coolest kids in her senior class, her popularity is bound to spike. Hopefully, enough to warrant an expansion into podcasting. Plus, the fact that attractive, singer-songwriter Archer Mitchell is coming is honestly the candy corn on top. Nothing is going to kill her party vibes.

Except…maybe the low-budget It clown she hires to lead a classic round of tag. He’s supposed to be terrifying, though in a comforting, nostalgic way. Instead, the guy is giving major creeps. But maybe Noelle’s just that good at hosting?

Her confidence is immediately rocked when the night’s entertainment axes one of her guests. And he’s not done yet. If an evil, murderous clown thinks life is a game, then Noelle is ready to play. She’s been waiting a long time to prove that she’s a Final Girl.

Everyone’s Thinking It by Aleema Omotoni

Mean Girls meets Dear White People in this big-hearted, sharp-witted UK boarding school story about family, friendship, and belonging—with a propulsive mystery at its heart. Within the walls of Wodebury Hall, an elite boarding school in the English countryside, reputation is everything. But aspiring photographer Iyanu is more comfortable observing things safely from behind her camera. For Iyanu’s estranged cousin, Kitan, life seems perfect. She has money, beauty, and friends like queen bee Heather. But as a Nigerian girl in a school as white and insular as Wodebury, Kitan struggles with the personal sacrifices needed to keep her place—and the protection she gets—within the exclusive popular crowd. Then photos from Iyanu’s camera are stolen and splashed across the school the week before the Valentine’s Day Ball—each with a juicy secret written on it. With everyone’s dirty laundry suddenly out in the open, the school explodes in chaos, and the whispers accusing Iyanu of being the one behind it all start to feel like déjà vu. Each girl is desperate to unravel the mystery of who stole the photos and why. But exposing the truth will change them all forever.

[creepswrites]

Mixing Slushies (Stu Macher x Reader)

oof I've been craving to write a solo for this boy for a WHILE so I hope you enjoy!! I feel like this story has a slightly different tone from what I usually write so please let me know if you liked it.

Stu Macher x AMAB!Reader (he/they)

Summary: He'd seen you crying in your bathroom over your parents fighting, seen you high and so out of your mind you had struggled to even talk, and knew you got slushies in both red and blue flavors but always poured red first and you never stirred it up. You let yourself hug him back, trying to avoid smudging the eyeliner you wore all over his shirt. WARNING: 18+, rude language, period-typical homophobia, recreational drug/alcohol use, discussion of murder, knifeplay, fearplay, mild choking

Living in Woodsboro had come with certain... challenges. Your dad being on the police force had been one of those challenges, since being the chief's son and openly gender non-conforming came with a special kind of bullying. Kids your own age and adults your father worked with seemed to almost take turns giving impolite-but-polite comments about how you dressed or just straight up insults on your general person. It was all just a part of growing up for you, something you believed you'd be doomed to accept if you didn't conform.

Your father was certainly of no help, whining to your mother constantly how he didn't want a "sissy" for a son and only shouting at you when you tried to argue with him. So, you resigned yourself to being bullied, believing that to be your fate till you could blow this fucking town. Get out and never look back.

Until you met Stu Macher.

The two of you met properly when you were both freshmen in high school, but you'd known him since your father transferred to Woodsboro the previous year. Though he'd never really caught your attention then. Too-tall and gangly, the class clown sort of guy. You'd only had one class together in eighth grade so it wasn't like you had to deal with him often. You didn't hate him, he just didn't stand out. He'd notice your outfits though and the friends he hung out with at the time would point and laugh, even if he just smiled at you.

Thankfully, by the time high school rolled around, kids generally had better things to do than give a shit if you wore a skirt or eyeliner to school. Besides, it was fun, fuck all of them. First week went by easy but on the second week, some of the seniors were giving you shit, trying to pull on your hair and trip you up. It was quick to stop after Stu Macher punched one so hard he broke his nose. You still fondly remember the sickening crunch, the waterfall of blood, and the bright smile Stu had given you. Like he'd been holding that in for months.

No one ever really bothered you after that. But Stu still did.

He'd always be trailing after you, asking about your new skateboard or trying to steal your headphones to see what music you were listening to on your Walkman. At first it was annoying but you slowly began opening up to him, especially after he'd defended you. Only reason he didn't have detention was because the guys he hit didn't want to be humiliated by losing to a freshman half their size.

So you two started to hang out as friends. You'd drag Stu to some abandoned train tracks and teach him to skateboard or he'd take you to his house to watch movies. Horror movies quickly became your favorite, the two of you spent hours gushing over how the movies were filmed, the stories, everything. Even rewatching movies you'd seen was fun with Stu. He had an interest in becoming a director so he would always try to explain how the scenes were shot but you'd both become overexcited at the blood and gore.

It was common knowledge to most in your neighborhood that your parents fought. They'd have screaming matches well into the night and the cops had even been called to investigate 'domestic disturbances' that your neighbors phoned in. Whenever the screaming started now, you'd just sneak out your window and head to the Macher farmhouse or sneak the lanky boy in through your window.

He never judged you when you sobbed when the fights turned aggressive, shouts and the shattering of plates making their way under your locked bedroom door as they fought. He'd lay against your headboard with you in between his legs against his chest and let you listen to music, tracing idle patterns on his arm as you zoned out. By the time red and blue lights flashed outside, you'd both be asleep.

You remembered one night in particular, the last fight your parents had before the divorce, how he'd come crawling in your window after the shouting had died down and your dad had left for a bar and mom was sobbing in her room. How Stu had lay beside you in you bed for hours, the two of you pressed together on the twin mattress. You'd buried your face in his chest and he rubbed circles in your back, only pausing in his motions when your sobs shook your whole body. He'd whispered reassurances to you, promises that he'd kill them if he could to spare you the pain, and soft little jokes to try and get you to laugh.

You hadn't, but his efforts were appreciated.

You spent most of that school year with the Macher family. Mrs Macher adored you and was relieved her son had a friend like you. You helped out around the house way more than any of her actual kids and she understood what it was like to deal with divorced parents. She and Stu's biological dad had gotten divorced not long after he was born but her new husband was so much better for them. She hoped you'd find the same comforts if your parents remarried.

You didn't tell her how Stu still called his dad some nights. How he'd drag you to pay phones after school to call him all the way in Europe. He missed him, just didn't know how to cope with that. The dial tone you were met with broke his heart a little more every time and you'd take him to get slushies afterwards to cheer him up.

Taking Stu into town to raid convenience stores had been the most fun you'd ever had. He always got blue and you'd get red and blue, scolding him whenever he tried to mix your drink to see if it'd make purple. Eventually, his curiosity got the better of him and he'd drink his own mixed up slushies with you on the side of the road. The summers were warm and it was easy for you two to stay out late, eating low-quality food and bathing in the LED lights outside wearing t-shirts and shorts, and holding hands as you ventured down the dark, empty Woodsboro streets together.

"I never want to go home," you'd told him one night while you sat on the curb outside the little store. "I just want to stay here with you forever."

He'd given you the softest look imaginable, half his face illuminated by the harsh blue lights leaking through the huge windows of the store behind you. "Yeah?" He'd had a particularly soft look in his eye when he spoke, voice all quiet.

You'd nodded, taking a loud slurp of your drink. "Everything's better with you around." You'd said it so plainly, brushing off the feeling of your own heart pounding at the admission.

He'd looked away, cheeks tinted pink, and you'd punched his arm gently for it and smiled when he laughed. The two of you sat drinking slushies alone together on the street. You'd only looked back over when Stu looked over his shoulder. When you followed his gaze, you raised an eyebrow. Why the hell was he staring at the cashier?

You got your answer when he quickly leaned over to kiss your cheek, a chaste thing that had your face heating up so fast that even holding your chilled hand to your face afterwards did nothing to cool you down. "You bastard!" You'd laughed, kicking at him while he stood up, giggling.

"You like me, you like me!" He taunted and you chased after him, the two of you laughing against the darkness, worn shoes hitting hard on the pavement.

It was that summer between freshman and sophomore year when you realized you were in love with him.

It had been an average summer day, lounging in Stu's room in a t-shirt and boxers. He'd gone out to grab snacks for you two and should've been back about half an hour ago. When he finally came home with a black eye, bloody nose, and bloody knuckles, he'd barely sat still long enough for you to bandage him. He wouldn't give you a straight answer about what happened to him or tell you what happened to the other guy.

But it was at that moment you'd wanted to kiss him and you felt so sick after the fact you couldn't even eat dinner, no matter how much Stu's mom pressed you to.

You did your best to keep Stu from finding out. Hanging out with him was still normal enough but it always left you with butterflies in your stomach.

It felt horrible. It felt like lying to him.

By the time sophomore year was in full swing though, Stu was all over Billy Loomis suddenly, leaving you alone most of the time. Which was fine, you told yourself. It was fine. So you made acquaintance with the skater kids, spent time smoking weed, and did whatever possible to avoid spending time at home, your's or Stu's. You ate alone outside the cafeteria and still wore skirts and eyeliner. You convinced yourself you didn't give a shit about Stu Macher. It was fine.

It wasn't.

The last time you saw him was when your mom was loading up her belongings into a small moving truck. The long, drawn-out custody battle had belongings split up appropriately, your dad being left the house while mom got the truck. So she wanted to move to pursue her dreams of becoming a famous Hollywood actress. You'd been helping load up boxes into the truck when you saw Stu watching you from across the street.

Once you'd set the box in the truck, you made your way over to him, frowning at the wistful look on his face. "So you're really going?" He hadn't looked at you as he spoke, just staring longingly at your empty bedroom window.

You crossed your arms over you chest, the fleece jacket you wore suddenly feeling too hot. "Guess so. Mom's found this shitty little apartment in Hollywood she wants to move to. Dad didn't want custody of me so... I'm going with her. Order of the state, I guess." Soft green eyes fell on you, unshed tears lingering.

You looked away from him when he spoke up. "I'm gonna miss you, y'know? Wish you could stay..."

You remember that you both had cried a little but you don't remember who had moved in to the kiss first. What you do know is you definitely kissed Stu Macher outside your shitty house in a shitty, bitterly cold November winter. And for the first time since you'd moved to Woodsboro, you didn't want to leave.

At first, you were incredibly supportive of your mother's dreams, a little happy to be away from your dad in Woodsboro and painful memories of the divorce, the bullying, and your unrequited-maybe-requited love for Stu Macher. Sure, you missed him like hell and it was annoying to change schools halfway through a semester, but the kids at your new school paid you little to no attention. Even when you'd let your hair grow down to your shoulders and cut yourself bangs with safety scissors in the school bathroom with some girls' help. You started selling weed and whatever stuff you could get your hands on to the older kids for cash and you were content for awhile.

You let yourself admire pretty boys in LA and made superficial friends with kids a grade above you that you didn't give a shit about but were fun to pass time with. One of the junior girls, Becky, had even taken you to their prom so you could all hang out. The rest of sophomore year and your entire junior year was mostly uneventful for you, thank god. Your older friends skipped their senior prom and took you out to McDonalds with the sole intent to get high later.

You were happy. As happy as you could be, anyways.

Until your mother stopped coming home. Always off to some rehearsal that was never always a real rehearsal and sometimes just her going off to get shitfaced with friends she'd made. Like mother, like son, perhaps. You rarely had food in the house anymore so you had to get a part time job in order to feed yourself. Most days, dinner was whatever you could steal from the cafeteria at school.

Things got harder when you both got evicted. Mom hadn't been paying rent. So you packed up your things and called your dad.

He had been... hesitant to let you move back home. After all, you only had one more year of school. But with your eighteenth birthday coming up, your dad agreed to let you stay with him for the last year of schooling. Your mothers drinking and drug habits eventually cost her custody of you. Most of the summer was spent packing your room and driving with your dad back upstate when he came to collect you.

If you closed your eyes, you can still hear her haunting wails as she begged you to stay with her.

Moving back to Woodsboro was... well, easy honestly. You settled back into your old room and had a chance to redecorate. Of course, dad tried to set harder limits with you but when you agreed to just pay part of the rent like you were a tenant, he relaxed a little. He didn't have to parent you, he could just be your landlord instead. It was an acceptable arrangement. You got a part time job at a records store nearby that summer, you turned eighteen, and you were surviving. Even if you had to buy your own food, that wasn't new for you. Thanks mom, you had groaned internally to yourself as you ate at Burger King more nights than not.

Senior year was going to be stressful, you knew that. A part of you had kind of assumed Stu wouldn't even remember you, that he'd likely gotten a girlfriend, joined some sports team, or had just plain moved on with his life. You two hadn't even kept up over the past few years, despite the fact you could have called to him or written to him.

You just... didn't.

You'd spend hours staring at the phone trying to will yourself to call him but it was too hard. It would be painful to listen to him gush about a girlfriend at school or talk about how successful he was compared to yourself. Though in hindsight, had you known you'd be coming back after a year and a half, maybe you would have just done it anyways.

Regardless, you showed up to senior year skating. You'd always loved skateboarding and had kept up the hobby while in Hollywood. Plus it made moving around faster. Your hair was still messy and intentionally unkempt, you had an oversized graphic t-shirts, and a worn flannel tied around your waist. The ripped jeans and dingy shoes you wore were the icing on the cake. You bailed off the board when you got close to the steps, carrying it under one arm as you made your way up to the front doors, ignoring the looks the freshmen kids gave you. The staring wasn't exactly new to you.

What was new was how fucking tall Stu Macher had gotten.

Seeing him leaning against a locker chatting with some girl made your stomach feel weird and tight. You'd recognize Casey Becker anywhere and suddenly found yourself wishing you could set her head on fire with your mind. You may have liked Stu when you were fifteen, but surely things were different now, you told yourself. Still... that didn't mean you had to like how goo-goo eyed he got while talking to her. So you looked away. You didn't see how he lit up when he saw you nor how he trailed off talking to Casey fucking Becker because he saw you. You just pressed onwards through the bustling hallways, headphones tight around your head and your eyes on the floor.

Until Stu lifted you up in his arms and spun you around.

"Fuck!" You screamed in shock, headphones falling off your head as he hugged you.

"You're back, you're really back! I heard you were back in town but I thought Randy was bullshitting me!" He was smiling at you with that bright look he always had when he was excited. "Hollywood not work out, superstar?" His snickering made you roll your eyes, mostly out of fondness. Same old annoying ass boy...

"More like mom crashed and burnt. I'm only back so I don't have to live on the streets," you shrugged but Stu's hands didn't leave their spot on your shoulders. "Didn't, uh... didn't think you'd miss me so much."

"Didn't miss you!?" He stared at you like you'd grown two heads. "Dude, I was fucking crushed when you left!" You bit your lip nervously and avoided his gaze. Neither of you were going to talk about the kiss, you knew that much. At least not in public. "I missed you more than anything. Missed you every fucking day." His soft tone had you staring up at him with wide, shocked eyes. He pulled you in for another hug and you immediately deflated, dropping the hard act you always put on for everyone else and wrapping your arms around him.

Stu wasn't like everyone else. He never had been.

He'd seen you crying in your bathroom over your parents fighting, seen you high and so out of your mind you had struggled to even talk, and knew you got slushies in both red and blue flavors but always poured red first and you never stirred it up. You let yourself hug him back, trying to avoid smudging the eyeliner you wore all over his shirt.

"I missed you too..." You mumbled, slowly becoming aware of the feeling of eyes on you. When you pulled back though, it wasn't the students lingering by their lockers or walking past you that were staring. It was Stu's friends, giving confused looks at you and each other. You recognized Billy Loomis and Randy Meeks at least but the two girls that followed them took you a minute to recognize. "They, uh, are they all your friends?" You gestured over his shoulder to where they were, which got Stu to turn and look when they approached you two.

"Oh! Hey guys, when'd you get here?" He grinned at you and you raised an eyebrow.

"Just arrived," Billy smirked and looked between you and Stu. "Tatum was looking for ya, actually." The ginger girl crossed her arms over her chest and was giving you a suspicious look.

"I thought you hated Tatum Riley." You mumbled to Stu's back as he led introduced you to the group: Billy Loomis, Sidney Prescott, Tatum Riley, and Randy Meeks. The latter couldn't seem to help his staring at you in particular.

"Nice, uh, style?" Randy tilted his head curiously at you. "What's the shirt for?" You glanced down at yourself and the shirt you had on. A sharpened candy cane with blood dripping down from it.

Smirking at Randy, you tugged the fabric of your shirt down a bit to let him see better. "It's for Black Christmas. A horror movie about a killer at Christmas who kills a whole sorority of girls."

Stu leaned up against the wall of behind you, peering over your shoulder. "That was always your favorite. We watched that at least, like, a million times." You shrugged lightly at his teasing with a soft smile. Of course he remembered, you made him watch that movie with you at least a dozen times in December alone.

Randy crossed his arms over his chest, looking smug all of a sudden. "Well, did you know that Black Christmas-"

"-was the inspiration for Halloween? Was filmed in Canada but the lead actress was British? Had so many people playing the killer that the director had no idea who did the iconic body-shot?" You cut him off, smirking at the clear surprise on his face. "Yeah, I'm not just pretty." Stu cackled at Randy's blush, obviously trying to hide how impressed he was.

"Ugh, not another boy obsessed with horror movies," Tatum rolled her eyes, nudging Sydney with her hip. "You and Randy will be like peas in a pod if you know trivia like that."

Something flashed over Stu's face briefly when she said that. "Well, sucks for Randy, I got dibs years ago." He said, straightening up.

As the group began chatting, you looked over at Billy Loomis, who had stayed particularly quiet the entire time, and were surprised to find him staring back at you. You raised an eyebrow and he tilted his head with a slight smile. It didn't strike you as strange immediately but you got the feeling Billy was sizing you up somehow. You didn't particularly care one way or another about the guy. He was friends with Stu, sure, but thats where it began and ended with you.

Not to mention you were still a bit jealous and bitter Stu had picked him over you all sophomore year up until you'd moved away.

But you got the impression Stu would be dragging you to group outings more. Maybe it would be better to get along with the rest of his friends.

The sound of rocks at your window was almost nostalgic, you thought, as you made your way to your window and slid it open. Stu was standing down in your front yard, his car parked in the driveway. Your dad had been called out for a night shift so you had been alone at home doing homework. The sticky September heat was getting to your head and you felt agitated and tired.

Seeing Stu boosted your mood a bit. "What brings you here, stranger?" You teased, crossing your arms on the windowsill as you leant against it.

The taller boy grinned up at you. "Wanna get out of here? Like old times?"

You scoffed. "Old times? Like, a year and a half ago?"

"Is that a no?" Stu pouted dramatically and you rolled your eyes fondly.

"Gimme a sec to change." You shut your window and blinds and started rooting around your room. A plain white tank top and high waisted jeans would be cute, you hummed to yourself. But it was too warm for pants, so you settled on a navy blue knee-length skirt you had in your closet. You usually went for darker colors when dressing but Stu wouldn't care how you looked one way or another. As if he knew a thing about fashion, you snorted to yourself as you recalled how he'd go days wearing the same pair of jeans.

Running a brush through your hair, you huffed at yourself. You could do your eyeshadow but with how dark it was, it wouldn't really be worth it. Instead, you put in your various piercings and made your way downstairs. Grabbing your wallet and keys, you made sure to lock the door behind you. Stu stood dressed in his classic jeans and a blue t-shirt, looking you up and down teasingly.

"Some things never change though, huh?" He gestured to your style and smiled wider when you flipped him off.

"You're still a jackass, so maybe you're right, yeah." You shot back, Stu laughing at your snark and watched with amusement as you took shotgun next to him. "Do you still have shitty taste in music?"

Stu balked at your tone as you started checking the radio stations. "I've never had shitty taste! Maybe if you had stayed, it could be to your standards." You knew he was joking but you still picked absently at a loose thread on your skirt, resting your feet up on the dashboard.

"I'm... you know I'm sorry about that, right?" Your voice was quiet as Stu started up the car. "I didn't get a say in the matter, dad didn't fucking want me."

Stu was quiet for a moment before reaching over the center console to squeeze your hand. Neither of you said anything but you let your fingers lace together in your lap and you blushed. Feelings for your friend hadn't really faded, just got put on a back-burner. It was... difficult to tell if Stu felt the same. On one hand, you suspected he was dating Casey Becker but on the other hand he was way too touchy with you to be completely disinterested.

The drive to the 7-11 was mostly silent except for the soft, tinny music leaking from the car's speakers. Some song by Nirvana, you recognized, but it was too quiet to make out the lyrics. Stu squeezed your hand as he pulled into the parking lot and the two of you stepped out.

The bright fluorescent lights felt more like home than your actual house.

"So, what trouble have you gotten into while I was gone?" You teased Stu as you followed him down the chips aisle. "Nothing I'd miss, surely?" It was mostly a jest but a part of you was a little worried he had more fun with you gone.

Stu just laughed, grabbing a few small chip bags and tossing your favorite flavor to catch. "Nah, nothing's as fun as causing trouble with you," he gave you a playful wink and you lightly kicked at his ankle. "Though... I guess something weird happened when you left."

"Oh?" You tilted your head curiously and followed him to the desserts aisle, grabbing Hostess sweets and a cup of mini Oreos. "What happened?"

Stu rubbed the back of his neck, glaring down at a Twinkie in thought. "Well, uh, Sydney's mom got murdered."

Your head snapped around to stare at him, horrified. "...weird isn't the word I'd use to describe that Stu! Christ, what happened?" You pestered him, poking him with a Twinkie.

"No one knows," the taller man shrugged, "got killed by one of her many, many hookups. Police didn't give too many details." You whistled, shaking your head in disbelief. You'd heard of Sydney's moms... history. You didn't really care that much, it wasn't like it was your business. "Killer's been sent to death though! Injection, according to the news." Stu continued as he followed you towards the slushie machine.

"Sounds... really fucking horrible, god," you said almost breathlessly. "Is Syd okay?" You were never very close to Sydney Prescott or her parents but you still felt a pit in your stomach hearing about the horrors she'd experienced only a year ago.

Stu nodded. "Yeah, she and Billy have actually been dating for a few years now! Got together after winter break in sophomore year actually, she's pretty nice." He handed you a slushie, made exactly how you liked it. You gave him a slight smile and followed him to cash out, absentmindedly sipping on the drink and staring out the glass doors.

Once you both were back in Stu's car, he started driving. The cool night lit up by the city lights was pretty. You admired the way the lights got smaller as Stu took you both up a bit into the mountains. "Where are we going?"

"There's a pretty sick spot just up here. Gives you a good view of the town, I think you're gonna love it." He gave you a mischievous look and turned up the music. The soft indie music washed over you for the short drive up the mountainside until you reached a clearing. Tall grasses enveloped a few picnic benches that sat not far from where you parked but Stu didn't move towards them.

The car had AC anyways so the two of you caught up in relative peace while you ate. You told him about your weed habits, going to junior prom in sophmore year, and your inebriated mother that was probably still trying to drink her way into a job. He told you about his relationship with Casey Becker and how she'd dumped him not long before school started to date Steven Orth.

"Steven Orth?!" You gawked, disgusted. "He's, like, a total fucking douchebag!"

"I know!" Stu lamented, burying his face in his hands. "Honestly, all the football players are asshats, you have no idea!"

As was tradition, the two of you had been debating about A Nightmare on Elm Street when you'd felt the energy shift. You'd been in the middle of explaining how the police should have known Rod Lane couldn't have killed Tina Gray because he was absolutely spotless while the rest of the room was a bloodbath when you noticed Stu's looking you over. Closely.

"Do you ever think about it?" He interrupted you quietly.

"Think about... what?" You asked innocently, tilting your head. You both were sitting awkwardly in the backseat, cross-legged and facing each other. Stu lay his head a bit on the headrest of his seat as he stared at you, blinking slowly.

"You know what." He mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.

You did. But you wanted to hear him say it. "Nightmare on Elm Street? I mean, not usually, it's nowhere near my favorite-"

Stu smirked and nudged you lightly with his knee. "Not the movie, dumbass. I mean... the day you left."

You gave him a quick glare. "Say it."

Stu frowned, chewing on his bottom lip. "When we kissed." His voice was barely a whisper.

You folded your legs up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them as you both avoided looking at each other. "Yeah, sometimes." You felt his eyes on you when you spoke. "Thought about it the entire drive to Hollywood too."

"Do you want to..." Stu trailed off and you gave him a look. "Do you want to do it again?" He was suddenly fascinated by your shoes, staring intensely to avoid looking at you.

The silence felt deafening as you weighed the pros and cons in your mind, of which there were only a few cons you could think of at the moment.

Quietly, you pushed his back up against the seat so he was now facing the front of the car and you straddled his lap, blushing when his hands instinctively moved to hold your hips. His eyes were as wide as dinner plates when you leant in to kiss him, effectively answering his question.

Pulling back and pressing your foreheads together, you were both effectively out of breath and you could feel you both were half hard. The two of you had been making out for the better part of half an hour and you felt your blood singing. Stu had one hand under your skirt, toying with the hem of your underwear, and another hand gripping your hips to help maintain a slow grind with you. Your hands were tight on his shoulders and your head felt heavy. "How," you panted softly, "far are we taking this?"

Stu pressed his forehead to your chest, grinning wildly. "As far as you want, honestly." He huffed before gazing up at you with bright eyes. "Would love to fuck you though." You felt your face heat up and you whined in response, rocking harshly against Stu. "Yeah?" He teased you, running his hands up your left leg and caressing your inner thigh. "You want that?"

"You're a bitch," you whined, tilting your head back. Stu took the opening to kiss your neck, biting down gently. You tightened your legs around his waist and tried to avoid hitting the horn on the steering wheel. He lifted your skirt more to give himself easier access to you, his hands reaching down to cup your ass.

"I'm your bitch," he countered with a giggle. You kissed him, biting on his lower lip to try and gain entry to his mouth. Pressing your tongues together was sultry, made your cock throb with need. When you scraped your nails down Stu's arms, he groaned into your mouth. "Oh god, fuck," he gasped as he pulled away, thrusting his hips up involuntarily as little pink lines popped up on his skin. "Fuck, please say I can fuck you babe, please."

You hummed, nodding enthusiastically. "Okay," you whispered to him, burying your face in his neck. "Just- Just be gentle, okay?" You didn't want to tell Stu you hadn't had sex before, but you hoped he could just tell. He pulled your shirt up and over your head, tossing it to the backseat. You kissed him again, tugging on his shirt as well. "Off." You said defiantly and he relented, letting you pull off his shirt.

"So bossy," he teased and kissed you again. "Missed you more than anything." Stu ran his hands up your flanks, hiking your skirt up.

The laugh bubbled in your throat, threatening to escape. "You jus' saying that 'cause you're gonna get laid?" You teased.

Stu pressed kisses to your throat with a thoughtful hum. "Obviously," he smiled, sarcasm oozing from his voice, "been waitin' to do this since we were, fuckin', fifteen or something. Sooo, obviously, once we're done 'm gonna go get a girlfriend or something." He joked, kissing you softly.

You just rolled your eyes when you pulled back. His words took a minute to set in. "Wait, that long?!" Your eyes widened almost comically.

Stu rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly looking shy. "Yeah, I, uh, I've liked ya for awhile, baby." For some reason, that was what made you blush.

"Gay," you grumbled, kissing him again. "You gonna fuck me or not?"

"Oh, such a romantic!" Stu fanned himself dramatically, fake moaning. You smacked his chest playfully as he shifted you off his lap. "One sec," he huffed, reaching over the center console to open the glove box. He pulled out a bottle of lube and sat back down.

You blinked. "You have a habit of having sex in your car?" Stu blushed and you raised an eyebrow.

"Nah, uh, just a habit of jerking it when I skip class." He shot you a wink and unbuttoned his jeans. You rolled your eyes, moving to pull your skirt down but Stu stilled your hands. "Uhh... can I uh- can I fuck you in the skirt?"

You stared at him. "Yeah, s-sure." You swallowed and tugged your underwear down, setting it aside before climbing back in Stu's lap. He looped his arms around your waist with a content sigh. "What, you got a thing for skirts?" You joked, running a hand through his hair.

Stu looked up at you, resting his chin on your middle. "Just got a thing for you."

The two of you stared at each other for a long moment before you sank onto his lap with a whine, kissing him deeply. He ran his hands up under the back of your tank top and pulled it off over your head. Slowly, he ran his hands slowly up your thighs and you felt yourself jump. "Cold," you mumbled, pressing your face into his neck.

He leant his head against yours with a soft chuckle. "You do this before?" Your deafening silence made Stu still. "Wait, really?"

"Who would I have slept with?" You pulled back to squint at him.

"I dunno!" He pouted. "Maybe I thought you got a boyfriend or somethin' out in Cali!"

Softening, you cupped his face. "No. Just- just you..." His eyes widened and you felt your face heat up. "Wait-"

"I'm your boyfriend?" Stu's voice was soft and you felt his arms tighten around you. You couldn't bear to look at him, face hot and embarrassed tears pricking your eyes. "Hey, don't cry- Baby, look at me."

When you finally looked at him, tears falling down your cheeks and burning your eyes, he was staring up at you like you were the only thing in the world. He brushed his thumb under your eyes and kissed you. "I'll happily be your boyfriend. If ya want, y'know." You giggled wetly at his attempts to be nonchalant about it. Nodding, you sniffled and he kissed along your neck.

Leave it to Stu to make you weepy and then immediately return to wanting to fuck you.

He bit down gently, sucking small hickies into your neck and making you writhe in his hold. "Stu-"

"Look, if I'm your boyfriend, I gotta make sure everyone else knows." He gave you a wink and your blush got worse somehow. His hands ran back up your skirt and you ground your erection against the rough material of his jeans. "Aww, want me that bad?" He taunted you.

You heard the cap of the lube bottle crack open and you tensed instinctively. "Shh," Stu whispered in your ear and let you hide your face in his neck. "It's okay baby, easy." His words soothed you a little bit but you still tensed up a bit. "Lemme love on ya a lil, yeah?"

In hindsight, Stu should have probably held the bottle in his hands a bit before prepping you. In hindsight, had you known the two of you would be having sex in his car, you would have moved to the back in the first place to prevent you accidentally setting off the car alarm when you leant back.

But neither of those things were considered. So, here you two were: in the backseat of his car, both now undressed minus your skirt, with you on your back and him leaning overtop of you, one of your legs hooked over his shoulder and the other pushed aside into the open space behind the driver seat. Stu's face was flushed red and you swung an arm over your eyes to avoid being looked at.

Gently, he brushed your arm away and pinned your arm above your head. You shuddered when he pressed the head of his cock against you - closing your eyes at the phantom feelings his fingers left behind inside you. He was shockingly gentle and thorough during the prep, pulling you apart to a begging mess with his hand alone. Biting and kissing on your neck as you rocked your hips against him, pleading with him for more, faster, anything-

"Lemme look atcha," Stu chuckled once your face was in view again. You whined and rocked against him, wordlessly begging. "Ask me nicely, baby. Tell me whatcha want."

You let out a helpless moan. "Fuck me, please, Stu. Need you so bad-"

"Anything for you," was the only warning you got before he pressed the head of his cock inside you. You threw your head back instinctively with a soft moan at the feeling of being opened like that. Hot and wet and-

"Fuck, please-" You begged, blindly reaching for your boy. He held your hand - because he was good like that - and kissed your knuckles. He gave you what you wanted and slid in deeper. Slowly. Making sure you feel every inch. Quickly, you snapped a hand over your mouth to muffle the loud moan.

Stu put a hand against your throat and squeezed. Not hard enough to choke you properly, but enough to make your body tense instinctively. "Don't do that baby, c'mon, you're doin' so well."

You dropped the hand and let out a moan, biting on your lip. Stu seemed pleased by this but he kept his hand on your neck as he moved his hips slowly. He hadn't bottomed out yet but he'd already begun a slow back and fourth, in and out of you. Working his way inside you, letting your insides get hot and gooey from the lube and from his pre.

When he finally, finally, bottomed out, you were shaking from the sensations of being filled, of being fucked. Stu leant forward and kissed you, squeezing harder at your neck to make you squeak. "That's my pretty boy," he said breathlessly. "Fuck, you're jus' made for me, huh? Made to take my cock, look at you."

You turned your head to the side, feeling yourself burn under his gaze - blue eyes completely eclipsed and making you feel seen. Your eye caught a glimpse of something metal reflecting the moonlight seeping in from the car's window. As soon as you realized what it was, you felt yourself clench down on the cock inside you.

Stu followed your eyes with a slow smile. Gently reaching over under the passenger's door, he pulled out a sharp hunting knife. Clean - too clean, your logical mind tried to scream but you were too focused on being fucked to care - and a mask. A white face that reminded you of Scream painting you'd seen in an art class in Cali.

He turned the knife over in his hand, looking you over almost curiously. "You like it?" His voice was practically taunting. "Just like those horror movies. Wanna be the cute slut who dies first?" His voice had a menacing edge to it, making you whimper. "Nah," he said softly, kissing you again. "You're my final girl, without a doubt."

"Stu-" You choked out, clenching your thighs around his hips.

Slowly, he looked at the mask, then the knife, and then back at you. You writhed under his gaze, wanting him to move. Slowly, he put the mask on over his face. The white mask combined with the black hood completely obscured his face. You could hear his heavy breathing as he turned the knife over in his hand.

You helplessly let out a moan as he snapped his hips forward.

"Please-" you begged, feeling the knife drag up and down your spread thighs. A featherlight touch but a touch nonetheless. It was fucked up. You knew that. You should tell him to stop, that this was insane.

But fuck if you didn't like it anyways.

Stu tilted his head - it reminded you of Michael Myers observing prey - and you rocked back against him. "Is this how my final girl survives?" His voice was lower, muffled by the mask. "Caught by the killer and offers him sex to survive?"

You nodded frantically, letting the fantasy of the words wash over you, and you felt his hand around your throat again.

Overtop of you, Stu barely looked like himself. Hand at your neck, knife at your thigh, and empty eyes of the mask boring into you. He picked up the pace, fucking you faster and tracing the point of the knife up over your abdomen. "God you're gorgeous," you heard Stu say to himself. "I wanna carve you open and keep you all to myself. Rip your heart out so no one else can have it."

Despite how fucked up it was, you only moaned louder.

The wet squelching sounds from the copious amounts of lube as well as Stu's own precum made the sex sound foul. Like you were some helpless final girl, caught and pinned by her own killer. But you liked it. And wasn't that the sick, twisted part of it all.

Because you knew it was Stu. Who would never hurt you really. Who you were pretty sure didn't have a killer bone in his body, much less against you.

"G-gonna- Gonna cum-" You gritted your teeth to hold back another moan.

"Go on princess, cum for me. Show me how good you feel." You felt the point of the knife teasing your cock and the cold shock of the metal was what did you in. You came helplessly, back bowing, and all but gushing over the knife and on your skirt. "Fuck, such a good boy." Stu growled, fucking you through your orgasm and reaching his own.

Cum pooled inside you, hot, sticky, and you fucking loved it. You felt drunk off the feeling, trembling in Stu's hold.

The mask came off then. Stu's hair stuck to his forehead a bit from sweat but his eyes were bright and he was smiling at you like you'd given him the world. You gave him a soft smile back and winced when he pulled out. "Damn, babe, I knew you had it in ya! You'd make a killer final girl." He shot you a wink before reaching for the center console to grab wet wipes.

You scoffed. "Obviously. I'm built for the role. Unless I'm the killer and then you're my final girl."

Stu seemed to light up at that. "Aww, that's the sweetest thing anyone's said to me," he fanned himself dramatically, making you laugh. He was methodical in cleaning you both up, letting you enjoy your afterglow. Once he was done, you snagged his shirt and pulled it on over your head.

That got a reaction. His eyes widened ever so slightly and you beckoned him towards you with a finger. "C'mere," you mumbled, "I wanna cuddle before we have to go back." It was late after all. And you still had school in the morning, as tragic as it was.

Stu held you in his lap, playing absentmindedly with your hair as he stared at the mask and knife he'd returned under the seat in front of him. Maybe he'd tell you. Let you in on his and Billy's plan for later that fall. Maybe you'd help out, join in on being Ghostface. Or, at the very least, know to stay out of their way to avoid being killed. Or maybe he wouldn't tell you.

But the thought of you getting hurt made his stomach hurt.

Later, he'd call Billy and tell him. That either you were completely off the table or you were going to be involved. Billy would listen to his rambles quietly the whole time. Once Stu was done, Billy would tell him they'd talk about it at school tomorrow - face to face. And Stu would recognize that Billy's wasn't that angry tone he sometimes had when Stu frustrated him. And Stu would hope that he could still have you, when everything was said and done.

But right now? Right now, he just closed his eyes and kissed the top of your head. He felt you huff, content, and stared out the foggy car window at the faint lights of Woodsboro below.

It really was a nice view.

[omgitsaime]

Movies I'll Probably Never Make: Open for Business

Three quirky best friends go against their principal's wishes and open up an anonymous advice column in their high school's dying newspaper.

Written: 2015-2016 (I was 14 and 15, y'all!)

If you liked these, you'll probably like this: Ferris Bueller's Day Off (1986), Sixteen Candles (1984), To all the Boys I've Loved Before trilogy (the books especially, given the time this script was written), Paper Towns (2015), Pitch Perfect (2012), Pitch Perfect 2 (2015)

Characters: Allie (14, Not Like Other Girls, always knows the right thing to say, aimlessly in love with Brad, clueless about Peter's feelings for her)

Peter (14, video game enthusiast and definitely smarter than you, fiercely loyal, always coming up with new ideas, has a crush on Allie)

Trevor (14, class clown, golden retriever boyfriend, the only things in life he takes seriously are Brianna, the advice column, and his friends)

Brianna (14, rich girl cheerleader with a heart of gold, fashion forward, always trendy, Allie's soon to be step sister, Trevor's girlfriend by the end)

Brad (15, popular football player of the junior varsity team struggling to find himself, well meaning but easily influenced, big heart, Not Like Other Jocks, redeems himself by the end)

Callie (16, lead writer of school newspaper, book smart, but not all that street smart, determined and not afraid to break a few rules to get what she wants)

Ben (17, editor in chief of school newspaper, quiet, reserved, a little more reluctant to break the rules, but will do anything to get into a good college)

Principal Cochran (late 40s, principal of the school (guys, it's been almost a decade, I don't remember the name of the school lol), stuck in his ways, overly strict, money obsessed, think Principal Rooney)

Why I stopped writing: I literally lost the script. I know I sent a draft to an old friend of mine, but that email has been lost to time, and now that I don't have the base, I can't remember which direction I was going in with the story before I stopped writing.

Themes from this story that appear in my other stories: Found family, platonic love, individuality, fighting manmade systems, lots and lots of 80s pop.

One interesting plot thread/character arc is that almost a full decade before the likes of Andrew Tate came onto the scene, telling young boys to be "alphas" and that they need to discard "low value women," Brad's plot was that he felt guilt over the prank he pulled on Allie to secure a spot on the varsity team, and over the course of the film, decides that being a man lies not in who he hurts, but who he helps. I was literally a fourteen year old girl writing this. I don't know what prophecy came to me in my sleep, but...holy shit.

Would I revive this story: Hell yeah! This is such a cute and solid story, with 80s influence, sweet moments, and honestly, the kids need a fun high school romp that is just about enjoying life and being 14. @sizzlingsandwichperfection-blog, I'm so sorry. I am so, so sorry for the abuse we put you through back in the day. We really took you for granted.

Fun Fact: The one and only surviving artifact of this film is the Spotify playlist. It is peak mid 2010s quirky teen comedy, and if you're old like me, this'll take you straight back to high school. I think you guys will love it.

Let me know if y'all think I should make this a series! I have a lot of scrapped scripts that I lowkey still think about lol

[wutheringmights]

After feeling like an absolute clown when I saw The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes movie in theaters, I figured it was time I sat down and read the original novel for myself. Unsurprisingly, I really enjoyed the book. It's definitely my favorite Hunger Games novel.

I should leave a disclaimer real quick. So I read the original trilogy a few years before the movies were released. I liked them well enough, but I always struggled to love them. Unfortunately, my biggest problem is Katniss. She's a great character. I do not like being stuck in her POV. I wish this was an ensemble story so that every side of the conflict is explored. In that way, the movies almost work better for me. I say almost, as I have such a bone to pick with Catching Fire throwing Katniss back into the arena, but that's another rant for another time.

My point is that I have never been passionate about the series, and I have not read the books in many, many years.

Yet, I still feel fairly confident calling this the best book in the series. I like exploring stories from the wrong perspective. Seeing the games from the eyes of the Capitol is genuinely interesting. I love the chapters where the students debate the philosophy of the games. I love watching Coriolanus justify his own decisions. I am obsessed with how this man thinks.

I cannot give enough praise for how Collins write Coriolanus's point of view. Here, the limited perspective works flawlessly. Seeing the world filtered through his eyes is interesting-- though I wonder why she chose to write this novel in limited third person? Did she want the veneer of objectivity that comes with third person POV, or is the first person POV trend in YA over?

I am not saying this book is perfect. It's goofy in one too many places, and there are a few plot points that just feel very immature to me (mainly, Coriolanus having to save Sejanus from the arena-- only a YA novel would make that justifiable).

My biggest problem is the loss of tension after the second act. As important as it is for the story to take Lucy Gray and Coriolanus out of the Capitol and the games, that third act really drags. There needed to be one more plotline carried over from the first two acts to help keep the suspension building. Collins really could have shaved 100 pages off this book, or made that third act into a second novel entirely.

With that in mind, I think I still like the movie better, if only for all the ways it condenses the story and fixes some of the pacing.

What really upsets me is how many people on Good Reads hate this book. I saw one review decrying the concept of this novel as ill-conceived-- something about trying to humanize the Hunger Games' Palpatine. That takes me back to how hung-up I am at the concept of a Hunger Games fandom. These books are so committed to their message and themes that it's always weird to see people talk about ships and stuff. I guess I just don't see the appeal.

When I was in high school, English teachers were just allowing the first book to be read and analyzed for class. According to a teacher friend of mine, the book is now an official part of the curriculum. I think that's a little unwarranted too. But if kids studied The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes in school... yeah, I would be okay with that one.

[tctteredwings]

if you’re hearing GONE TOO SOON by MICHAEL JACKSON playing, you have to know CAMERON CLARKSON (HE/HIM; CIS MALE) is near by! the THIRTY-FIVE year old YA AUTHOR/BOOK EDITOR has been in denver for, like, ALL THEIR LIFE ON AND OFF. they’re known to be quite LAZY, but being PROFESSIONAL seems to balance that out. or maybe it’s the fact that they resemble HENRY GOLDING. personally, i’d love to know more about them seeing as how they’ve got those RANDOM IDEAS SCRIBBLED ON NAPKINS, LEGO BLOCKS HIDDEN AWAY IN A WORK SATCHEL, GETTING A TATTOO FOR EACH MAJOR LIFE EVENT vibes. and maybe i’ll get my chance if i hang out around the CHERRY CREEK DISTRICT long enough!

tw: divorce, car accident, death

ABOUT.

Name: Cameron Clarkson Nicknames: Cam Age: Thirty-five Date of birth: September 23rd 1988 Occupation: YA Author/Book Editor Romantic/sexual orientation: Heteromantic/pansexual Birthplace: Christchurch in New Zealand, although considers Denver his real hometown as he moved there at six months old Current Location: Denver, CO, USA

Cameron was born in New Zealand while his mom was out there on an extended gap year, so it was never really set in stone where he’d end up growing up. In the end, however, they returned to his mother's home, eventually ending up in Denver.

He was raised in Washington Park, so pretty much wanted for nothing as he was growing up.

However, he was the kid who didn’t seem to fit in anywhere, so eventually he used his sense of humour to his advantage, playing the class clown.

In the end he didn’t have too many friends, but he had one who was close, who lived two streets away and they pretty much lived out of one another’s pockets. At one point he might as well have moved in with their family as he was at their house so much.

At the age of six, his parents went through a messy divorce, effectively splitting the family in two. He went with his mum, his younger sibling went with his dad.

A year later he suddenly lost the hearing in his left ear. The doctors put it down to emotional stress, but there was no real way of knowing.

Still struggling to fit in, he turned to his imagination, getting lost in worlds of complete make believe. Fantasy was his favourite. Elves, dwarves, vampires. He read The Hobbit more than 20 times in the few years that followed.

He would write stories, put on plays with the few kids he did befriend. And in the end, that was where his life would lead him, to fantasy books that would sell millions and a movie deal to follow.

College was next, along with dead-end jobs in bars to get him through. He only managed a year and a half into his degree, though, finding himself unable to concentrate, so he dropped out again. From then, working in bars and takeout joints pretty much became his life.

He wrote in his spare time, his mailbox constantly full of rejection letters. It was a stream of disappointment for him.

At twenty-three things finally began to look up and he met his soon to be wife while locking up one night. Before long they became the best of friends, then their family became three… and then four. The wedding came last.

It was at twenty-seven that he got somewhere with his writing, Serena finding the letter that held his fate. A three book deal in young adult fiction was soon offered to him and everything changed.

When he hit book three, however, disaster struck. On a night out, Serena and her friends had gotten into an accident. His wife was gone. Just like that. He didn’t get to say goodbye.

The final book fell to the wayside and for a year be barely did anything, not really knowing how to get through. But his children forced him out of it; he finished the book, and he moved into editing, focusing on someone else’s work for a change.

It’s been a bumpy ride, one that’s taken him all over the country during the last couple of years and, at some points, left him chasing after his work. He’s making it work, though, he’s getting through, forcing himself to.

He's made a couple of attempts at relationships since losing his wife, although things never turn out too well, the most recent especially so. No matter what it always feels too soon in his heart, even though he knows it isn't anymore. It's something he needs to get over and fast so he can move on with his life.

HEADCANONS.

Cameron owns a black and tan Jack Russel called Gimli. Because he is both small and mighty.

He’s read The Hobbit around 50 times now and it will always be his favourite book.

Cameron picks up a new tattoo for every success he has in life (or what he considers a success anyway). Currently he’s up to number six. His wedding, his two children, and each of his books. He’s pending on number seven for when the movie’s released and how it does.

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

Younger adopted sister; can be any ethnicity, around the age of 25-30.

Sister/brother-in-law; sibling/s of his late wife.

Childhood best friend; they were inseparable once they found one another, almost like siblings, and things haven’t really changed much since.

Childhood/school friends; anyone he was close to growing up in Denver.

High school sweetheart; his first love.

Exes; from before he turned 23 & met his wife, as well as afterwards.

It’s more than complicated; they work together, they can’t get enough of one another.

Flings, fwb, one night stands; anything that isn’t serious. he’s not really moved too well on since his wife.

Fans of his previous works; anyone who was a fan of his book trilogy.

Fellow gym rats; he’s a bit of an addict these days.

[on-the-shelves]

on my shelf: soundtrack to MA year 3 - summer (a.k.a. the finale)

And so it comes to an end. I handed in my Master's thesis (topic: Emancipatory Potential of Girl Teen Film) about a week ago, so now I'm just waiting for it to be graded and also I have to find a job or something now... The thing I have been dreading most for like 10 years...

ANYWAY so I was super busy this summer with the thesis and going to a Japanese film festival for a class (I mostly saw very emotional movies (oops) and one very good comedy (Mondays: See You 'This' Week)), going to concerts (Red Velvet!!! Odd Eye Circle!!! Twice!!), going on vacation but still spending at least 3 hours every day working on my thesis, keeping up with the BTS members, seeing literally every BTS/TXT/IU concert or documentary they showed in cinemas, etc. etc.

So here we go into the final list of albums/songs that soundtracked my studies (it's been almost exactly 6 years since my first post in this series!!):

The Jazz Hop Café: (anything with "jazzy lofi" in the title)

So this one's not really an album, I know, but I wanted to mention this YouTube channel and their compilations of lofi songs because on many days, playing one of their videos was the only way I could get focused on the work I had to do. Using a video was also much more helpful to me than that famous lo-fi livestream because it helped me track how many hours I had been working. Truly a life-saver. And the music just sounds great too. They found some real gems!

Agust D: D-Day (2023)

What a perfect finale to the Agust D trilogy. While all three albums, Agust D (2016), D-2 (2020) and now this one, deal with anger and fear, there's a clear maturation in how these subjects and emotions are approached. On D-Day, Agust D is speaking to the world and breaking free - in openly and honestly sharing his struggles, his pain, he hopes others can feel comforted. The album literally begins with the line "Future's gonna be okay" ("D-Day"). The theme continues throughout the album, most prominent in "Amygdala" and "Snooze", a beautifully cinematic track featuring the late Ryuichi Sakamoto that is dedicated especially to everyone working publically in the music industry and struggling. He has been there, he knows what it's like and he is sincerely cheering you on. In the last years, Yoongi has emphasised again and again how much he wants to help out others and this album showcases this desire the clearest out of all of his albums. He's also pushing himself to try out a variety of new styles without losing his identity: "People Pt. 2 (feat. IU)", "SDL" and "Life Goes On" showcase his warm singing voice, while "Snooze" is the grandest he's gone musically, filled with strings, guitars, piano, and so much emotion. "Haegeum" takes a leaf out of "Daechwita" from D-2's book by incorporating a traditional Korean instrument in a novel way, while using the lyrics to speak of the hypocrisies plaguing society today. The music video for that one is like a movie, too. All in all, the album is hopeful while being emotionally heavy - and in that way, it allows a feeling of catharsis. How desperately I wish I could've gone to a concert on the tour...

fav: Life Goes On; People Pt. 2

Jimin: Face (2023)

So this was not at all what I would have expected from Jimin's first solo EP, considering the types of songs he had released before. Especially the first single, "Set Me Free, Pt. 2" came busting down the doors and demolishing all those preconceived expectations with it's assured declaration of wanting to break free from them. The other tracks are more intimate but just as interesting. The album opens with clown-like music before morphing into a very different sound and the opening line "All right, I guess the blame is on me" - brilliant. The album feels very visual to me because it's full of this kind of 'sound painting', like the clown music or "Interlude : Dive", which tells a whole story of Jimin reminiscing about the BTS concert days and the frustration and sadness of not being able to do that right now. Jimin has said he worked through his feelings from the most difficult times of the pandemic in these songs and you can feel that frustration all over these tracks. For example: Lead single "Like Crazy" really makes you feel like you're not fully sober, just trying to ignore all the bad feelings but struggling to do so. Jimin uses his already unique voice in a variety of new ways throughout the tracks. And added to that, there are quite a few interesting moments on all these songs - like the long-ish musical interlude after "Like Crazy"'s first chorus or the way the music stutters after the "Lie lie lie lie lie lie lie" line in "Alone". An added bonus, lovely moment is the hidden track on the physical album, which is more like what I'd have expected from Jimin, and is a beautiful guitar ballad for ARMY.

fav: Face-off

V: Layover (2023)

After years and years of V promising that his mixtape/album would come out soon, just for him to reveal that he's scrapped everything and started over, it's finally here and it's everything I could have ever hoped. One of the first BTS songs I heard that made me fall into the rabbit hole was his "Singularity". The R&B, more laid-back sound suits his vocal tone so perfectly, and that's exactly what runs through all of these new songs. One thing that stands out is how much room is given to the instrumentals: "Slow Dancing"'s second half is just a flute/piano solo with no vocals. It really boosts that laid-back, dreamy feeling that runs throughout the EP. Lyrically, all the songs are about missing someone and wanting them back, which V conveys very convincingly. The music emphasises this feeling in different ways - from the slightly off-key (?) moments in "Rainy Days", to the jazz and soul inspired free-ness of "Slow Dancing", to the key change via pitched-up vocals in "For Us". Generally the sound also fit in perfectly with all of that jazzy lofi I'd been listening to while writing, which made it feel instantly familiar and cozy. My favourite part of the promotions were all the live band sessions that really added so much to these songs.

fav: Rainy Days; Blue

Jung Kook: "Seven" (2023)

Song of the Summer!! I literally couldn't stop listening to this song all summer, seven days a week (ha). To be honest, I was shocked when I heard the lyrics the first time because Jung Kook just had a much more innocent (?) image, but actually this vibe suits him perfectly. He is such a quintessential pop star - vocals, dance, looks, charisma: he has it all in abundance. And on top of that, he lacks the cheesy insincerity or even low-key misogyny that I get from a lot of the pop boys historically. The lyrics to "Seven" are sexy, especially because of how loving they seem: "I kiss your waist and ease your mind"! "I must be favored to know ya"!! It's just so very Jung Kook. And I really enjoyed the remixes of the song, too, in a way I haven't enjoyed remixes since BTS' "Dynamite". Especially the "Island Remix" was fun for me, since I was on holiday on an island when it was released (Mallorca - the same island where V also shot some videos for his album this year!!).

Kep1er: LOVESTRUCK! (2023); Magic Hour (2023)

Both Kep1er EPs this year have had some of their best non-single tracks so far, with generally better line distribution among the members than their lead singles/title tracks. They have been leaning more into a groovy, light sound, and allowing more space for individual vocals and harmonies. By Magic Hour, it feels like they are starting to find a good niche for themselves, musically. "Galileo" is my favourite title track of theirs since "Up" (2022) and this might be the first time I truly like every song on an EP. Hopefully this doesn't turn out to be their last album, since they're a project group with a limited contract which is supposed to be up after two years (meaning end of this year)... They're only just starting to find their feet as a group! What a strange system...

fav: Back To The City; Why; Galileo; The Door

Odd Eye Circle: &lt;Version Up> (2023)

After the chaos on Loona island that started at the end of last year, all the members got out of their contract this year!! And then went on to several different new agencies. They do keep mentioning that Loona is not broken up, so there is still hope for an OT12 reunion at some point. For now, the first group to have released new music is the second Loona sub-unit Odd Eye Circle, who just so happens to be my favourite sub-unit. And they truly delivered once again. Maybe it helped that they're working with their original producer again, but they really do showcase an upgraded version of themselves on this new album. Every song is such an earworm, but not annoying in any way. And I really enjoy the little references to the Loona discography and first OEC EP - the introduction track often brings a little tear to my eye. I have barely listened to Loona in the past year because of the ongoing boycott and this EP filled that void a little. Plus the girls were AMAZING in concert, I literally cannot believe I saw them live in a tiny venue in Berlin and got to see all of their solo songs, duets, and of course OEC songs. And even "Hi High"!

fav: Je Ne Sais Quoi; Love Me Like

Loossemble: Loossemble (2023)

Speaking of Loona: The five members who went to a different label recently released their own EP under the name Loossemble, which stands for Loona Assemble (so cute). Even though this was literally only released two weeks ago, I've been listening to it constantly. First of all, we finally get to hear the five members who usually get the least amount of lines in OT12 songs - and they sound so good! I especially love all of the harmonies on the album. This EP also really still feels like a Loona (sub-unit) album, especially from the fan-favourite earlier days, not straying too far into unknown territory (yet?) but not boring in any way because they do get to showcase new things, like ViVi's lower register on "Sensitive". I also find it very cool that all of the members have at least one writing/composing credit on the EP, which is something they've never gotten to do before but are really good at! And "Strawberry Soda" was even written for them by fellow Loona (but not Loossemble) member Yves! They're really still carrying the OT12 agenda. Fingers crossed Loossemble also decides to tour in Europe at some point!

fav: Strawberry Soda; Sensitive

NewJeans: Get Up (2023)

It's really amazing how NewJeans keep upping their game with every release. This EP is more summery again, but again in a way that's very atypical for K-Pop, drawing on various styles of dance music as well as R&B. It's varied and fun and has quite a few interesting elements, such as the unusual sparse sound of "ASAP" and the horns in "ETA".

fav: Super Shy; Get Up

BTS: "Take Two" (2023)

Of course they recorded a song to be released around their 10-year anniversary when they weren't all able to celebrate together. Of course they did. And of course it's such a warm, embracing hug of a song. 2025 can't come soon enough.

And here are some more albums I enjoyed:

Colde: Love Part 2 (2023)

Twice: Ready To Be (2023)

Fifty Fifty: The Fifty (2022)

Fall Out Boy: So Much (for) Stardust (2023)

j-hope: Jack In The Box (HOPE Edition) (2023)

STAYC: Teenfresh (2023)

Le Sserafim: Unforgiven (2023)

Viviz: VarioUS (2023)

Itzy: Cheshire (2022)

the BTS discography remains on repeat as well, of course

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

A final note: I'm really proud of myself for keeping this series going all this time. I already sometimes look back on older posts and it's so interesting to see how my taste in music and my way of writing changed through the years. Sometimes the music you listened to at a certain time in your life will always remain connected to that time for you but sometimes that connection weakens. So having these posts to look back on is like having all these little time capsules, which is nice. I don't know if I'll keep doing something similar now that I'm out of school, but it could be nice... We'll see what happens next (I have 0 plans for my future :D)!

[impablohurtado]

Why did I move?

People move for all kinds of reasons; work, school, sometimes they are running away from something or someone, sometimes they just need a fresh start. The last one sums up my reason the best. It wasn’t the easiest decision to make, but it was the one that made the most sense for me.

I’ve always been the narrator of my own life to a detriment. I attribute that in part to growing up loving film and having seen Goodfellas or Stand by Me too many times as a kid. From as early as I can remember I was in my head playing through the motions of whatever was going to happen in my day to day. Maybe part of it comes from trying to figure out who the hell I was all my life. As a kid I didn’t connect with other children and didn’t make friends until middle school when I realized being a class clown and funny person would get people to like me.

In my head I've always been hyper focused on what I was doing, what I was wearing, how I was coming across to others. Whether it was kids on a schoolyard, students in another classroom, or coworkers on the clock, I could not help but worry about other’s perception of me. I was always wholeheartedly me, I never shied away from being my own person, to the point where I'd spend days on the playground talking to a school administrator of upcoming movies knowing full well it ostracized me further. Still, I always was conscience of potentially being disliked, scoffed at, or laughed at, the second I walked away. I got in enough fights as a kid to show that it regularly got to me.

For whatever decision I was going make I was always already three steps ahead in my mind, thinking of what that decision would result in. For me jumping to the worst conclusion possible was always my initial route. By doing this I could hopefully prepare for disaster or to be let down. To me it was better to be realistic and realistic meant an unhappy outcome. It was safer to not have high hopes, better to not be let down in the future. As an adult I’d learn about my anxiety disorder and ways to live with it.

After high school I was mostly just going with the flow of life with no clear destination in mind for my future. There was nothing I was aiming to do besides sustain a relationship on its last leg and weather the tough times that had hit my family. Time passed and that turned into trying to make ends-meet with my brother. Moving out on our own and working different jobs while trying to get through college. I turned 30 in July and those carefree years of my early 20’s seem so far away now.

Different jobs came and went. From a cashier to a scrapyard worker, operating industrial balers and cranes that would crush sheet metal like it was styrofoam. Later I went from cleaning office buildings, schools, banks, and mechanic shops with my brother, to driving for the Amish, doing concrete work, and our final job together drilling holes in semi hoods at fiberglass factory. From appliance sales, to pawnbroker, to debt collector; one-year jobs turned into three-year jobs that turned into jobs I needed to force my way out of or get stuck at forever.

These experiences allowed me to see into the lives of people who struggled the most, those on their last legs. From coworkers struggling with bills to people pawning their tv’s and jewelry to have money for groceries, to people drowning in medical debt they could not find a way out from. Often it was the generational struggles that I saw the most, young adults pawning items their parents or grandparents had previously done. It used to remind me of hard times my family fell on, from avoiding answering the door as children to debt collectors, to water or electricity being shut off at different times over the years.

Through my work I got an idea of what I wanted to do with my life. Of the many things my parents taught me, having a strong work ethic was one of them. Because of my father I worked nonstop through years of trying to get through college, doing the same hard labor I saw him doing growing up. My mother’s background in social work guided me and influenced my want to help others, the way she did.

Then a man ran for office and a part of his campaign was calling Mexicans rapists. In the news Black men and women were being murdered by police. An older man decided to run against him, and he lit a fire under everyone. He sparked a movement. I got involved in the community and when that happened it was like everything clicked. At that moment it was as though every decision that I made suddenly had to be a grand one. Not necessarily for me, but for the end goal. What could I do that would make the most impact, what would help the most?

It started with organizing protests. My first protest during Trump’s presidential confirmation in 2016. Silence is Violence. Then more protests came, through which I met incredible people who wanted to change the world for the better starting with our very own city. It was like every other week there was a group meeting. New anti-racism groups, feminist groups, environmental groups, too many groups to keep track of. So many that came and went, events that spurred others into action.

Then came the elections, the caucus, the party, everything else I spent 4 years working towards. To the point where it consumed all my future goals. Thankfully I had siblings by my side working towards the same goals. Still, I felt a weight behind everything I did. There was a worry that every misstep I took would leave me both judged harshly by my peers and be harmful to the work we were trying to do.

Through all this time I made it a conscience effort to not discuss my personal life in political or social work. Outside of a long running blog that close friends and family knew of and close online circle of friends built over the years.

I’ve been alone for the better part of the last decade. Being in a relationship that was both emotionally and physically abusive as a man was a hard reality to live with when I was 21 still working in a scrapyard with men in their 40's and 50's. I couldn’t talk about it to anyone and growing up knowing sometimes the people you love hurt you, at the time I rationalized it all as part of a relationship. Machismo is so engrained in not only my culture, but the culture I saw at my job, it was embrassing to even put a name to what it was.

I never saw that in my own parents, but I know she had, so I knew it was learned and she didn’t mean it. I’d take punches and kicks and just leave to another room. Restrain, leave, then accept apologies through tears and become the one who made her feel better. To be in front of friends while it all happened and sit in awkward silence while I said nothing, then later be asked why I don’t say anything was often the worst. I never knew what to say. Over three years together and a decade later it’s still weird to say her name.

Since then, as far a public perception goes it’s always been just me and my dogs. I’m not too open about my life as far as dating goes. I’ve met more women on dating apps than I can remember. Relationships that came and went like a car circling a racetrack, were never anyone’s business but my own. You can only match, talk, date, and repeat so many times before it becomes unreal. It's like one of those photo toys we played with as kids, clicking through the photos one after another. It turned into a conversation I had with myself repeatedly. When it would get more serious I'd find a way to end it, whether it was stop talking entirely or find a reason, life was too busy, no time.

A question often on my mind was; why do I sabotage the relationships that might work… that maybe could turn into something real, on the off chance sporadic nights become less-so? I would hope, that maybe they'd become permanent. Planned dates would get cancelled when last minute texts arrived asking to hang out. I’m not saying it was right for me to do, but it’s what I did.

Living with that does something to you. To feel something you can’t share openly, spend time with people you can’t really talk about… because there’s not really anything to talk about. It kills you inside little by little. To be good enough for a moment, but not good enough for others to know. It persists and persists to the point where it’s difficult to imagine living any other way. If this is how it must be, then this is how it is.

It gets to you though, not knowing if your worth more than just an evening. To do the song and dance and then get ignored until it was time to do it again. Sometimes it'd be months on end with nobody else that felt like a leaf had turned and it was finally happening. Then a drop off would come until the next time came around. Years and years of this that I would never take away because if I’m being honest, the company in those times is when I was often the happiest in my life.

Basing your worth off how much someone else wants you in their life is the easiest way to develop a hate for yourself. When it happens with one person it’s unfortunate, but when it happens with two you question yourself. Why do people come back, but never stay long? I couldn’t even be upset or show contempt, I just took it because I’d take any happiness I could get, even if it was momentary. My idea of happiness developed to be this way, so I'd get worried whenever I would get there, knowing full well it'd tail off sooner than later.

Nobody is at fault. We're all learning as we grow. We all make mistakes, even if I'd never categorize it that way or do it differently. Sometimes two people liking one another, even loving one another, is not enough to keep those people together. Life is more complicated than I love you's making everything all better. Living like that made it easy to invest everything into one path. It was easier than trying to sit back and figure out why I was stuck in the place I was in alone. It took me years of therapy to figure out answers I could never find on my own.

Then I ran for office. It became an opportunity to do something real. A culmination of everything we’d all worked towards. A few months later the pandemic hit. Then I lost someone close to me because I couldn’t cope with everything happening in my life and then my mother died.

All of this happened as I was in the twilight of my twenties, and it was the perfect storm of reasons to just stop. Quit. I’ve lived with depression long enough, openly enough, that people would understand. Anyone else would do the same. But I had to push through and keep fighting. Not only for my mother, but for me. I had to give myself a reason to live.

Protests happened and our community got teargassed with no recourse for those who initiated the violence. People ran screaming and I remember grabbing a friend’s hand as she fell over, pulling her up to run with others trying to get away. I brought milk for people to wash their eyes with an hour later and I stood with everyone again the following day as police draped in armor stood in front of the courthouse ready to terrorize everyone again, which they did. In the aftermath a Mayor I had spent months canvassing and campaigning for refused to condemn police and instead targeted the very people who elected him. 

A sideshow of a march happened. A publicity stunt for the mayor to appear like good guy and to show that police and protestors were united. The real people on the ground, the ones who really care know that we never were united with the city. I didn’t attend the media show. That week gave me a reason to keep on pushing forward.

And so, I ran… for 7 months through face masks and screens I talked to people. I learned the stories of those who lived in my community. The teachers and automotive workers, single mothers and college students, everyone who answered a door, even those who showed me contempt or anger, I tried my hardest to listen. The platform I ran on was what I believed in. I wouldn’t concede and run on the best alternative, support a position that was most realistic. I was running on odds stacked entirely in my opponent’s favor, the only thing I had to lose was my integrity and my word. So, we knocked 7000 doors fighting for what I felt was real.

During that time, I shared about the racism I received levied at me. People who called me slurs or told me to go back to Mexico when I’d knock on their doors. Text after text of things I’d heard before in my life. You develop thick skin for this growing up, so it was easy to roll off and keep moving. Still, I received no post of support from a party I ran under. No condemnation after sharing my stories online. I didn’t expect one, but you shouldn’t have to expect those kinds of things. We persisted through it all and hit goals we set. Then the months dwindled down until election day arrived.

I didn’t win. Even though it was likely to happen, it didn’t make it hurt any less. I felt like I had let my community down. I felt like I had let my family down. I felt like I had let my mom down.

In December, a few weeks after the election ended, I made a post on the caucus page about regrouping and continuing the fight. We’d spent years knocking doors and pushing for change, a loss wouldn’t stop that.

Two months into the new year with 8 days left in February, my best friend, my dog Gizmo passed away. I’ve written ad-nauseum about grief and loss. Stories and poems available other places. I’ve interviewed others about their loss and what it means to try and try and keep living, all the while remembering those we’ve lost. I don’t want to write about that much more right now. What I will say is that it took a lot out of me.

I constantly think about a speech I gave when I ran. In front of the courthouse I said, “Other candidates have run and when they lose, they are nowhere to be seen. No matter what happens I’ll be here… fighting for the community.” I meant it wholeheartedly when I said it. I knew what the odds were, but it wasn’t about me, not the election, not the campaign. One that was never mine to begin with, it was a community campaign, one built on positions those in my district could stand behind.

I never cared to have my name out there and had meetings with elected officials worried my running would somehow hurt other campaigns because of my family history. I didn’t want press or do to interviews, I only wanted to do everything in my power to help those struggling in the district I lived in.

Now here I am.

252 miles away from the city I grew up in. Away from my sisters and my dad. Away from the community of people I really do love.

I wonder if people think I’m phony. I wonder if people think less of me. He ran and then he left.

I left because it was too much. The expectation to keep going. I knew too many people. I felt too much, more than I could handle. A weight that made me not want to be here anymore. No matter how many meetings I attended and spoke at, saying we are stronger together. I just didn’t feel strong enough to do it.

I used to always say, “I’m better at looking out for others than I am for myself”.

I want to look out for myself. I don’t want to work to live. I just want to live. For a long time that was a statement I couldn’t bring myself to make.

I don’t know what I’ll find in this new city. I don’t know what I’m looking for. The one thing I do know is that I wasn’t going to find it in Fort Wayne.

That is why I moved.

[frostfall-matches]

[ matchmaking... ]

@stellumura​ : [ match report ready ]​

your match is...

✦ Akaashi Keiji

Akaashi is a good mix of reserved and sassy. With his humor, he will easily play into your fondness of people who like to sass their friends and lovingly insult them. He’s obviously not one of those loud, goofy, class clown types, but he still has a solid sense of humor and can appreciate it when it comes from other people - as long as it suits his tastes, of course. Many of his reactions are subtle, but you could definitely get a little smile or a chuckle out of him by teasing him or jokingly getting on his case. His sarcasm and deadpan delivery isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but it seems like you’re someone who could really enjoy it if it came from the right person.

Blunt and straightforward, Akaashi can and will call you out if you fall into anxious thinking or perfectionistic behaviors. Even if he himself struggles with moments of overthinking, it’s easier for him to help out other people when he notices them struggling (as opposed to getting himself out of his own funk). It’s good to have standards and a goal, in his opinion, but it’s all too easy to take it too far! He is often quiet about it, but he is your biggest supporter, and you’re “perfect” in his eyes even if you’re not “perfect” in yours. So, the moment he notices your condition start to falter because you’re anxious, or because you’re pushing yourself too hard, he will immediately bring it to your attention so you two can do something about it.

He’s pretty perceptive, so he’s quick to notice when you’re struggling with some insecurities. Akaashi isn’t exactly the type to frequently reassure you with sweet words - occasionally, he will, during moments where you’re at your lowest, or moments where he’s really feeling soft - so most of the time he will address your insecurities in a blunt manner. He’s not really tactless about this per se, but he will flat-out tell you that you don’t need to worry about X insecurity, not around others and especially not around him, and he’ll explain why if you don’t believe him. Of course, everyone struggles with insecurity sometimes, and he will never blame you for it, and he understands that he won’t be able to magically change your mind either. Regardless of how he tells you, it’s important to him that he tells you that you really don’t need to be so hard on yourself and that you’re allowed to love yourself more.

Akaashi is very pretty and would look so good with eyeliner. He might initially put up a bit of a fuss if you tried to convince him to let you put some makeup on (because he “doesn’t need it” and it would also “get in the way” of his activities for the day… He’d be worried about smudging it or rubbing it off), but he wouldn’t be too stubborn about refusing. Akaashi doesn’t typically give in to whining from his friends (especially, in particular, Bokuto), but he seems the type to give in a little easier with his partner. Compromise is important, after all! And him “compromising” on this issue really isn’t a big deal, and it’s worth it for him to see your face light up when he agrees. He would definitely examine your work on his face thoroughly and compliment it accordingly (because you’ve got good skill and, again, he’s so pretty and makeup would only enhance his features even more).

Movie nights at home are calm, cozy, and sometimes even intimate! For Akaashi, it’s a nice change of pace from all the energy he has to deal with during practice. He doesn’t have much of a genre preference, but he will give you a look if it seems like a weird movie, lol. When having movie dates at home, he typically defers to your preference when you two are scrolling through the lists of films, but he will point one out if it catches his eye. For cinema dates, chances are you’re the one inviting him out when there’s a movie coming out that you want to see; he doesn’t pay too much attention to new releases, but again, if he ever spots something that he wants to see, he’ll let you know! Funnily enough, you won’t always need to be the one to “initiate” movie dates, whether at home or at the cinema. Akaashi knows movies are one of your big interests, so he’ll check in with you from time to time if there are any movies you want to see or re-watch, and he’ll make a date of it. Leave the snacks up to him!

Akaashi definitely gets curious about your music taste. You’re listening to music so often, after all, and you’re always so focused on actually listening to it and enjoying it, so his interest is naturally piqued. Sure, he likes music about as much as the average person does, but half the time he listens to music it’s just background noise for him. Sometimes if you’re listening to music and he’s just reading or browsing on his phone near you, he might ask if he can share your headphones or if you could play the music out loud, so he can see what music you’re enjoying at the moment. Even if a song’s not to his taste, he still wants to get a peek at what you’re listening to!

The ISFJ type tends to feel a deep responsibility to others and invests a lot of energy into maintaining strong connections to the people in their lives. While they are hardworking, practical, supportive, and reliable, they are also somewhat reluctant to big changes, and they may take things too personally and get taken advantage of. Sometimes Akaashi feels out of his depth when dealing with such open expression of emotions, and when people respond to situations with their emotions first and not with their head.

Your different approaches might cause some conflict between you two sometimes, especially when it comes to interpersonal problems between the two of you - the age-old head vs heart struggle. If you’re the type to take things too personally during a disagreement, Akaashi’s tendency to say it like it is might be difficult to deal with. He isn’t intending to hurt you, and he’s mature enough to apologize when he knows he’s upset you with his words, but it’s still something that can happen from time to time. It’s something that you both need to work on, together, and as long as you’re able to come to a compromise or solution it shouldn’t be too strenuous a task!

Potential conflicts aside, Akaashi admires that you’re so willing to be in-tune with your emotions and show them to others. You know how to connect and empathize with others, and those are such good traits to have. That being said, Akaashi will not hesitate to stand up for you if he notices your kindness being taken advantage of by someone. It’s good to be helpful, but he really hates how kind people are often targeted by selfish people.

With one of your love languages being acts of service, you can really make Akaashi’s day! He’s self-sufficient, so he doesn’t really think to ask for favors when it comes to his daily tasks. Still, if you surprise him with something you’ve cooked or baked, he can’t help but feel really warm and fuzzy on the inside. He’d want to return the favor, but he’s not going to say anything about it. You’ll just happen to notice that he’s slipped a couple of your favorite snacks or beverages in your bag when you weren’t looking.

Overall, you bring a softness to Akaashi’s coldness. He’s reserved, restrained, and is very conscious about being so. But when spending time with you, there’s a lot of unconscious smiles that slip onto his face! You’re friendly and passionate, but in a more subtle way than many of his teammates, so it comes off as endearing and calming to him (instead of tiring him out, lol). He’d tease you about it, but he thinks it’s really cute how easily impressed you are by cool tricks. He’d argue that he’s no braggart or show-off, and he’s really /not/, but… he’d still show off from time to time just to see your reaction.

[brightoakgame]

What were the ROs like as kids? What were their favorite things to do?

John: The class clown: always surrounded by friends, often in trouble with teachers and his parents (at least until he'd successfully charmed his way out of it). He didn't care for school, preferring to spend time with friends, listen to the radio, watch television, and go to the movies whenever he could. He held the former town sheriff in high regard as a mentor and hero, and tended to follow him around like a duckling; beyond being an impressive (and impressively patient) personage, the old sheriff was also one of the few adults who didn't seem to think John's youthful lack of scholarship or ambition denoted a similar lack of intelligence.

Marybeth: The baby of her family, and a rebellious tomboy. She had all the love for learning her brother lacked, and none of his social charm; thankfully, while her parents were more baffled by her interests than supportive of them, John was happy to hand over such treasures as his unused toy microscope, along with his outgrown blue jeans and flannels. Scientifically-minded and voraciously curious, she kept stacks of her father's old cigar boxes under her bed, filled with such items as a rock collection, feathers, acorns of various types, the desiccated corpse of a lizard, bird bones, a large moth, etc..

Patti: (I won't get too detailed here, since she describes her own childhood in-game) Patti grew up fast, taking on responsibility for her little brother at a young age, as well as shouldering a roster of chores at the family ranch, in addition to school. Her mother viewed Patti as the successor to her own role in the community, with Patti shadowing her as she ran errands in town proper. During moments of respite (or rebellion), Patti's favorite thing to do would be to run out to the surrounding hills, climbing trees, gathering wildflowers, or laying in the meadow grass, enjoying the warm sun and solitude in peace.

Sparrow: (again, this comes up in the story, so I won't delve too deeply here) Sparrow had a rather rough childhood. His parents were neither one happy individuals, and his iconoclastic tendencies resulted in near-complete social isolation both at school and at home-- with the exceptions of a years-long scholastic rivalry with Marybeth, and his much-beloved older brother Evan's support and protection. Shy, bespectacled, and extremely tall even early on, Sparrow has always found books his best and favorite refuge, reading whatever he could lay hands on. He also loves music, but had little scope to explore it beyond listening to the radio until he grew older.

Jasper: Precocious from the start, Jasper's parents struggled with managing first their own expectations of him, and then his expectations of himself. Multi-talented, highly intelligent, and prone to hyperfocus on his interests to the exclusion of all else, Jasper excelled at almost all he put his hand to, but his perfectionism meant he struggled with activities prioritizing group work or reliance on a team. He enjoyed cooking, as it allowed him to both spend task-focused time with his mother, and to express affection and care in a practical way that played to his strengths. His favorite thing to do as a child was to study astronomy, sitting up late in the evening alone with a telescope and notebooks.

[littlemissvincentvega]

Hey I just wanted to tell you I love your blog so much and I wanted to know if you’re still writing fics/hcs and If you still are can I request headcanons for what the Pulp Fiction crew would be like in high school. Thanks so much xx.

i have literally no clue when this request was sent but i saw it half-finished in my drafts and finished it just now! so thanks for the request bc this was actually really fun and interesting to think about. and i haven't posted anything in a while so i hope y'all enjoy 🥰

what the pulp fiction crew was like in high school!

vincent:

thought he was cool but really wasn't

didn't have much luck with the ladies

probably had a stupid haircut

very rarely got good grades, not because he's dumb but mostly because he really didn't care

got boners over everything

definitely had a crush on one of his teachers and because of this, tried harder in their class

bad at spelling

i feel like he'd be shy at school too. like he wouldn't be disruptive or anything he just mostly kept to himself and mostly people didn't wanna be friends with him

if he got picked on enough he wouldn't say no to a fight

hid in the bathroom so he could smoke

jules:

he was popular at school i feel like

all-rounder. he did well at most things, got along with teachers and made people laugh

not a class clown but was really funny

got away with swearing in class bc all the teachers were fond of him and bc he was respectful of them

the type to break up a fight

took girls on dates to the drive in movie theatres

his mom raised him to respect women too and so he always picked them up and dropped them back home at sensible times

we all wish we were jules in high school basically

mia

honestly mia was kind of eccentric at school. not very popular but not a complete outcast either

a little bit alternative

was friends with guys and girls, she didn't care for bitchy drama

could be loud and misbehave but that was mostly if she was with those types of people. like she got dragged into it and influenced easily

but on her own she was pretty shy and respectful, rarely got in trouble then

got picked on a little by more popular kids

struggled with her mental health at times

but really the teachers did like her, she was usually described by them as a 'sweet girl'

marcellus

you'd think he would be the type that nobody would dare mess with, but my hc is different

i think marcellus was picked on. maybe he was a little chubbier back in high school and people saw this as a reason to bully him

probably why he ended up being a gangster. nobody could do that to him again and the people he worked with he could look after, which he did

i also think he was very intelligent. not straight As by any means, but he did very well and the teachers liked him

probably had one or two close friends, despite being a target for the popular kids

overall he was really happy to graduate and was really proud of himself for getting through it

lance

complete pothead but are we surprised

used to deal in the school bathrooms, also he would smoke in the cubicles

he was actually respectful to teachers though

kinda dumb i feel, like he struggled to concentrate and understand everything. maybe he just found it all boring

hated doing essays

i'd say he would bunk off on the regular too

lance was always invited to house parties because who wouldn't wanna party with this guy. he supplies the goods anyway, so whether or not the host likes him you can guarantee he'll be there

natural comedian although sometimes people are just laughing at him. he doesn't mind for the most part

high school was basically just one long party for him and he looks back fondly on it