#i like just got home from the movie

[cassandralexxx]

Fit for the Barbie movie!

[buttercupshands]

surprise hug!

[frontierpsychopomp]

some birds

[anachronistic-falsehood]

every time i get into a new media i end up thinking of a teen beach movie au for it. i never do anything w these aus but there r so fun 2 just play with in my head like barbies <3

[chemical-processes]

I think the description of Benson and Randy's relationship as "parasocial" is quite apt. Benson says "I've been watching you, and I know for a fact..." He posits that Randy is not like anyone else in their small shitty town, that there's something uniquely 'fixable' about him. It's something that Benson stakes most of his motivation on throughout the movie 'it was the only thing I believed' and in some ways this is reflected in Randy as truth, but sometimes the character traits Benson projects onto Randy just fall short of reality. Randy says that his mom held him back a grade and Benson paints the picture of a domineering authority figure that Randy must rebel against, And clearly believes this is the case based on the tenacity with which he listens to--and disapproves of-- Randy's conversation with his mother on the phone. However listening to the conversation is just dull. His mom does come across as over bearing, pointing out the number of rings it took him to pick up, but she's otherwise normal compared to the image Benson seems to have of her. Same with Lisa. Benson strolled into the mall with Randy as though a great revelation was to be made, like Lisa was this monumental event in Randy's life, but Randy and Lisa's relationship was underwhelming. They were briefly dating in highschool and they broke it off rather amicably because Randy was not an emotionally fulfilling partner to Lisa. Randy claims not to know why Lisa broke up with him, and to Benson this is an injustice, but in reality it's just Randy being a little obtuse and naive about Lisa's emotional needs. Lisa could've been more transparent about why the relationship ended but they were kids, and she took the path of little resistance, likely in an attempt to spare Randy's feelings. There's nothing unique or life-altering about Lisa and Randy. Benson seems to project this false narrative onto Randy--and the rest of the world, tbh-- that is further highlighted by Marsha's character, who is another NPC that Benson decides to codify within his world view. Marsha once again deviates from the role Benson believes she fits in, standing up to him and rebelling against the notion that all other people in this town are aimless and complacent. Part of me wondered, after they went to Beard's house, why Randy's 'transformation' felt flat for me, and part of it is because the journey Randy takes is somewhat belied by the fact that Benson did not do any of that for Randy. Not any real version of Randy, anyway. Benson did it for a made up version of Randy in his head and he went along with it because there was a gun at his back.

[emi1y]

car wreck 🫣 womp womp (everyone is okay) (not my car but i was the passenger)

[nexus-nebulae]

every day i wish that Rats SMP was a cartoon bc it would make the greatest show ever i think

[softquietsteadylove]

Just Gil causally cracking some bones because they dared to slap Thena

AU is free to choose :)

"Oh, come on."

Gil shared the sentiment. He pulled the truck over, already bracing himself for whatever trouble was about to take place. He was sure they were just drunk kids partying, but sometimes that was the worst kind of citation to give.

Thena walked ahead, as the White Wolf would. They were almost at the end of their perimeter check and on their way back home when they spotted the fire through the trees. It wasn't in a particularly big clearing, the fire was way too large for the wildfire regulations of the state. And every once in a while it would surge, and it was definitely because they were tossing liquor onto the flames for fun.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Who the hell are you?!" Thena snarled right back at them. She walked into their little bonfire, happily knocking over an abandoned camping chair and a few bottles on her way. "Anyone want to tell me why you have a fire the height of a tool shed built in the middle of the damn woods?"

"Fuck off, Tomb Raider, it's open land, we can camp where we want."

Gil grimaced. So, this was going to go even worse than he expected. He attempted to inject some reason into the conversation. "Look, guys, the fire is way too big, it's a hazard. It's not a properly dug fire pit, or raised off the ground."

"Oh, sorry Sparky," another of the young men laughed at them. They weren't slurring their words but they were clearly far from sober. "I didn't realise the cops get called on people just trying to have a good time."

"We're not cops, guys, we're the fire department," he frowned, crossing his arms at them. "We don't care if you're walking around with booze or smoking anything. What we care about is you not setting the entire area on fire in the dry season."

"Oh yeah?" a particularly cocky, particularly mouthy one stood up from a log. He tossed his lit cigarette - at least, Gil thought it was a cigarette - on the ground (literally after he was just told to put it out properly!). He sauntered over to them, bottle of whiskey in hand. "If you're firefighters, doesn't that mean you're public servants? My tax dollars pay your fuckin' salary!"

"Our salary has nothing to do with your rich daddy," Thena snapped at him, pushing him back from Gil and into a position where it was harder to ignore her again.

"Hey, you're not allowed to touch me!"

"Oh, really?" she drawled, picking at his button up shirt - why would he wear that camping - and then his baseball cap and then just giving him a pat on the cheek. It was lighter than a slap but harder than something one would call affectionate. "Every single one of you needs to pack it up. If you're still here by the time we come back with the hose, you're getting sprayed."

"Won't that, like, kill us?"

"If only I could be so lucky," she rolled her eyes at them. She walked towards the other two, examining the scene. "We may not be cops, but you might not want to be caught with this amount of liquor. What if mummy and daddy discover what their precious little angels are up to?"

"We didn't-"

"Clean it up!" she snapped at them.

But they weren't high school kids, they were easily in college, maybe even graduated. And Gil didn't like the looks on their faces. He rolled his shoulders, drawing his posture up. "Seriously, guys, I don't want to have to come back and turn you over to actual cops."

The other two looked at their ring leader. Their complacency had limits, it seemed, but he didn't exactly tell them to stand up and fight his battle like little minions.

Thena walked past him again, and Gil had to admit he watched the guy closely. He didn't like the vibe any of them had, especially that one. He put his hands in his pockets, ready to get back in the truck.

"Hey, Snow White?"

"What did you-!"

Gil felt as if he'd heard a gunshot. The slap had a real crack to it, because the bastard hadn't held anything back. He looked happy about it, too--proud of himself. For...slapping a woman across the face.

He laughed as Thena stumbled back, blinking through the shock of it. "If you can touch me I don't see why I can't do the same. Don't say I'm not a feminist, because I'm not gonna go easy on you just for being pretty."

Thena recovered quickly, she moved her tongue around in her mouth and spit after probably nipping her tongue with her teeth from the impact. She glared at him. "And they say chivalry is dead."

"Come on, man."

"Yeah, let's just leave."

Gil ignored the other two. His only problem was this motherfucker. He walked over to him calmly. He had to be calm. His chest was burning but he controlled his breathing as he went over and picked the guy right up off the ground.

"What're-"

His little friends yelped as Gil slammed the guy down into the dirt. It was soft forest floor, he was fine; he couldn't be unconscious yet. Gil grasped his shirt again, lifting his head up before bouncing it off the ground like a ball.

"Hey," Gil leaned in, snapping his fingers in front of his dazed eyes. "Stay with me, Sleeping Beauty. Pay attention."

The guy just groaned, barely holding it together.

Gil picked him up again, adjusting him a few times until he could stand on his feet. "You think it's funny to slap a woman?"

The self proclaimed 'feminist' attempted to mumble something, but it was completely incoherent. It was honestly a total coin toss whether it was an apology or something that would just piss him off more.

Gil grabbed the front of his shirt again, making sure his head wasn't wobbling around when he spoke to him. "If I ever see you again, I'm gonna rip your little bobble head right off your scrawny shoulders."

Gil wound all the way back, landing an open palm slap that felt like it shook the trees. His little buddies were silent, unable to even freak out. Gil tested the kid's balance but he might have fainted from the slap. He shook him.

A few of the bones in his ear might have been damaged from that.

But Gil huffed. When his eyes opened again he let go of him. He stumbled and then fell over, trying to drag himself anywhere that might be safe.

"L-Listen, we're sorry, okay? We'll clean all this up!"

"We'll put out the fire! You'll never see us again!"

Weren't so complacent now, now were they? Gil rolled his eyes. He watched as they put an arm each over their shoulders to drag their positively incapacitated friend away.

"Anything else, buddy?" Gil leaned in for the final word from the man of the hour. His head was dangling and he was trying to mumble something again, although the side of his face was swelling rapidly. "Wassat? I can't hear you!"

"He said he's sorry!"

"Very sorry!"

Thena stepped aside as they rushed him away, she was assuming to the designated area for parking up the trail slightly. "Should we be letting them drive anywhere?"

"I'll call them an ambulance," Gil shrugged, pulling out they keys that had fallen out of their new friend's pocket when he was on the ground. He tossed them to her, "he's probably a little concussed."

She chuckled, examining the keychain, featuring their very expensive alma mater and the logo of the luxury car brand in question. "I'm not going to thank you for the knight in shining armour act. If you hadn't have knocked his lights out I might have given it a go."

"Sorry to deny you," he smiled halfheartedly. He knew that Thena wasn't the type to shy away from a fight, and that she wouldn't think it was helpful for him to lose it on a bunch of spoiled brats over it. But he scowled anyway.

She made a face as he just barely brushed the tips of his fingers over her cheek. "I'm fine."

"It's swollen," he corrected. He could still recall it perfectly, replaying it in a morbid and horrific way since the second it happened. The wind up, the glee on that asshole's face. The way Thena's silhouette against the fire was so much smaller than his.

She shrugged, testing the damage for herself with her own palm. "So I'll have a cold one when we get home. By tomorrow, it won't even matter."

By tomorrow she would have a bruise, and Gil wondered if this anger in him was really going to go away just like that. He wasn't usually the angry type, but he couldn't just let something like this slide.

"Thanks," she said more quietly, nudging his arm with the back of her hand. She slipped her hands into her pockets as she started in the direction of the truck. "I know you were just being sweet."

He sighed. If that was how she wanted to think of it, then he wouldn't stop her. But sure, what he thought was a completely natural response could be chivalry if she was used to living with wild animals.

Thena was already on the radio, ordering medical assistance to their location. Gil dragged his feet behind her until he could pull himself up into the truck cabin as well. "I suppose we should wait until we're sure those morons get picked up."

"I guess," Thena said lightly. And he knew damn well it was her way of saying they didn't have to rush home. If she was in pain, there was no way she was going to show it that easily. It simply wasn't her style.

"Y'know, if your boys hear about this they'd be just as pissed as I am," Gil muttered in his own defense. And smiled, because it did get a laugh out of her.

"My boys are just as bad as you are. But they would know better than to step in for me," she gave him a pointed look. He shrugged and attempted a cute smile. She rolled her eyes at him and settled into her seat more comfortably. "You fellas have too much sympathy in you. But a swift kick in the nuts always does the job for me."

Well, he could definitely agree that it was deserved, in this case.

[ayyponine]

not to be a milennial but harry potter and the prisoner of azkaban really is that bitch....

[abigail]

first time i go to the cinema in months (which is unlike me btw. rip my mental health) i get food poisoning from a veggie hot dog… how could my beloved cinema snacks betray me like this .. evil.

[carcarrot]

this time last year i was probably sitting in the kitchen while my dad started making an early dinner of chicken bolognese trying not to get too nervous about the concert i'd be going to in a few hours

[lordartsy]

Octokuber, day 6 - Kaiju

(pulls up a chair) This is a Final Wars propaganda post.

It is 125 minutes of pure nonsense. It is a cinematic boss rush. It is wrestling if all the matches were marinated in nuclear waste and fed to aliens. They bought the rights to Zilla just to wreck him to kingdom come. Actually, Godzilla bodies all the kaiju in this movie so hard that they're never seen again. The chicken guy I loved enough to draw and put here? He's there for like five minutes and he gets blown up. The soundtrack is unironically great. Take everything left from me. All. To. Blame.

[jtownraindancer]

Selfie, baby

Why not~

Four days, four different looks✌🏻😗

[monkee-mobile]

i can’t believe we live in a world where micky dolenz has an official cover of one of my favorite REM songs like can we imagine how much this would’ve riveted my life when i was like sixteen and in my full REM thing like micky fucking dolenz!!! sings REM!!!! it’s a collaboration that is created just to make me go absolutely feral.

[whattraintracks]

30. Wrestling - TMNT 1990s

"You are unique among your brothers, for you choose to face this enemy alone. But as you face it, do not forget them, and do not forget me. I am here, my son."

Splinter breathes deeply, allowing the flow of air to guide the outside world to the forefront of his awareness. Stale subterranean scent, cushioned armchair beneath him, dim candlelight, footsteps. Someone has drawn him out of meditation. Perhaps his sons are home earlier than expected.

"You may enter, Raphael," he offers to the hovering shadow. The turtle creeps inside, halting but a moment before bowing deeply.

He smiles warmly, "Have you and your brothers returned?"

"The guys are still out." Raphael's shoulders hunch; from what emotion, he cannot tell. "I, I didn't go with them."

The scattered candles flicker. A great darkness seems to cross Raphael, and he glimpses someone very much unlike his passionate son. Someone exhausted, worn down, nearing the brink of collapse.

Raphael's voice brittles, "Can I stay with you?"

Splinter's not sure what is more alarming, that Raphael has declined an opportunity to go to the surface—with his brothers, no less—or this weariness so evident in him.

"What troubles you?" He implores.

Raphael shakes his head mutely.

He insists, trying to keep his disquiet at bay, "I cannot help you if you do not tell me what is wrong."

A coarse whisper, "It's nothing."

"This is not nothing," he creaks to his feet, "You must—"

"Dad."

The sudden plea stills them both.

"Master Splinter." His heart wrenches at the self-conscious amendment. It is not one he needs to make. Not about this. Not ever.

"Please, can I just," Raphael cuts himself off, breathing shallowly. Another flicker of candlelight and Splinter catches the sheen of tears in his eyes.

"Oh," he breathes. What a fool he is. His son has come seeking comfort and company, not interrogation.

"Yes. Yes, come." He beckons, reseating himself. "Sit with me."

Raphael shuffles deeper into the train car, kneeling stiffly. Splinter clucks softly, reaching for his arm to pull him against the chair. He curls forward without resistance, breath hitching.

"My son," he says, soothing with hands and words. "I am sorry. You may always come to me. You need not tell me what is on your mind to do so."

He is unsurprised but nevertheless heartbroken as Raphael releases a heavy sob, giving in to whatever weight he has been carrying. Tears prick in his own eyes at the openly hurting sound. He internally chides the parts of himself that demand answers over acceptance with open arms. Wrapping them now around as much of Raphael as he can, he mourns with his son so clearly wrestling with a great burden. He sends a prayer of gratitude to his Master Yoshi for guiding Raphael to him when that weight grew too large to bear alone.

Much time passes before the rest of his sons return. Long after Raphael cries himself past exhaustion into sleep. At some point, concerned at the angle of his son's neck, Splinter maneuvers out of his chair to rest them more comfortably on the floor. His ears prick at a whisper of movement. Ah, three movements.

Michelangelo peers into the train car, his brothers close behind. "Oh," he blinks, "he really did stay here."

Protectiveness flares within Splinter. "We should not begrudge Raphael's need for comfort or rest," he reproves.

Michelangelo's eyes widen in dismay, "Of course not!"

Donatello shakes his head, "No, we're not— We don't think Raph—" His eyes dart as they do when he's searching for the most precise explanation. "We're just worried about him."

"He's been having a rough week," Leonardo murmurs.

Oh, his sweet sons. He should not have been so quick to assume they meant anything uncharitable when they are but concerned brothers. As with Raphael, he wishes they had come sooner instead of struggling and worrying alone. He can be grateful they are here now.

"Tell me," he invites, resting a muffling hand on Raphael's tympanum.

They glance between themselves as they kneel, silently urging one another to speak first. He is careful to display only calm patience despite his inner turmoil.

Michelangelo finally bursts, "He's not eating." The other two look at him, befuddled.

"Okay, he's not, not eating," he revises, "but he didn't even finish a whole pizza at April's on Monday!"

Splinter trusts this is a remarkable incident, given their identically serious nods.

"I think he's having nightmares," Donatello contributes. "At the very least, he's not sleeping well. I keep finding him awake at odd hours, and sometimes he's pretty freaked."

Splinter huffs fondly. "Should I ask what you are doing awake at 'odd hours', Donatello?" The turtle shrugs cheekily.

He ponders these insights, soothing Raphael as he twitches. Do dreams haunt him now, even surrounded by loved ones?

"Leonardo?" he prompts, drawing his final son from deep thought.

Leonardo begins slowly as if unsure, "He's been more focused during training." As they all have. With their many hardships, each of his sons has increased their dedication to learning ninja, whether they realise it or not.

He listens keenly as Leonardo continues, "But when we're out, he hesitates. I've never seen so much slip past his defense."

He hums, "You are concerned he is a danger to himself and your brothers?"

"Never," Leonardo swears.

He tilts his head, not unkindly.

"Well, yeah, I guess," Leonardo concedes. "But not like that. Raph usually loves fighting." His eyes resonate with confusion and grief and fear. "He doesn't seem to enjoy it much lately. And he's always so tired, Master Splinter. It has to be more than him not sleeping."

"Maybe they're connected," Donatello suggests, "Maybe whatever's going on is affecting his sleep, and improper sleep is exacerbating the symptoms, on and on in a vicious cycle of—"

Michelangelo groans, "We get it, Donnie."

"Shh, quiet," Leonardo hisses.

They shush each other back and forth as Splinter watches Raphael slumber with a heavy heart. Holding up a paw, they fall silent. "You are right, my sons. Raphael is wrestling with something very grave indeed."

He reaches out to them. "My turtles, you have been through so much in your young lives." They lean in, allowing him to rest a hand on them, one by one.

"How do we help him?" Michelangelo asks.

Moved as he always is by Michelangelo's generous spirit, he is loath to admit he has no answer. He is stopped before he can.

"By following Master Splinter's teachings," Leonardo pronounces, looking at him eagerly. "Ultimate mastery comes not of the body but of the mind. Through mindfulness and unity, we draw each other up."

He is humbled to hear his own words in his son's voice. Warm with pride, he inclines his head.

"A break certainly couldn't hurt," Donatello rubs his chin, "A little downtime to focus on rest and healing together."

Michelangelo brightens. "Like family time!"

Donatello and Leonardo share a fond glance. "Yeah, Mikey," Leonardo says, tucking the turtle under his arm, "like family time."

"You guys are the sappiest suckers I've ever known." Splinter chuckles as Leonardo and Michelangelo startle at Raphael's sudden utterance.

Donatello laughs, "Please, you know like seven people."

"Yeah, an' the other three are normal," Raphael grumbles. Yet he unabashedly proves himself equally "sappy" as he shifts to nuzzle Splinter's hand.

Recovering from their shock, Michelangelo exclaims, "Raph!" as Leonardo yelps, "You're awake!?"

Raphael yawns widely, opening one eye briefly to check the room. "Hard to sleep with the lot of you yappin'." He appears, if only for this moment, at ease. It is a gift to see him comfortable and unguarded. More so, Splinter acknowledges, because these things have been absent in him for too long.

"I won't say no to a break," he mumbles. He lifts a hand to swat at Leonardo blindly, "But I refuse to participate in anything called 'family time'."

Leonardo evades the wild arm, a mischievous spark in his eye, "Fine then, we'll call it team building."

Raphael scoffs, "No. That's worse."

And as the four bicker good-naturedly Splinter knows they will find peace, as surely as he knows the love that binds them. However much healing Raphael needs, he will not do it alone. His family would not let him if he tried.

[steviescrystals]

i seriously need to get a new job and start making money again asap bc i cannot keep living at home much longer it’s driving me insane

(wrote an entire essay in the tags without meaning to oops)