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m0llygunn · 1 year ago

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candy curse (eddie munson x fem!reader)

summary: like a grim curse, each and every halloween night you are doomed to the worst of belly aches... noble hearted as always, eddie works his own magic to soothe your woes

cw: candy overconsumption; no comments made by eddie (or anyone) about how much candy reader has eaten, candy being 'bad', or negative talk about eating; fluff; comfort. an: the summary makes it sound like smut but its not its just candy lol wc: 1.8k

This isn’t the first time you’ve done this. Not by a long shot.

If truth be told, you are well versed in the Halloween candy belly aches– so well versed that it seems nearly impossible for you not to do it. Every year, belly ache after belly ache, you still remain none the wiser. There is nothing that anybody could say or do that could prevent this yearly occurrence, and Eddie is well aware of that.

“Think that’s it for the trick or treaters tonight,” he says exuding the confidence of a veteran candy-giver-outer.

Passing from the kitchen to the front door, he locks the deadbolt, switching the front porch light out. He’s not wrong though, the last group of trick or treaters must have been an hour ago. It’s safe to say the night is yours and Eddie’s now.

“That was fun!” you sing excitedly.

Normally the party goers, this year you both decided subdued was the move, and subdued meant handing out candy at Eddie's place for the very first time. Veteran candy-giver-outers you are not, but it was cozy and cute seeing all the kiddies parade in their costumes with Eddie. It felt like domesticity at its peak and you can only hope to see more of it in your futures.

He crosses the living room towards the couch, aiming to sit next to you, but just nearly knocks his knee on the coffee table. The slight breeze of his close call sends a red coloured wrapper sailing to the carpeted floor, but neither of you bother with it just yet. Instead, he sits, handing you a glass of water that you didn't ask for but appreciate all the more.

“I didn't know so many kids lived in the trailer park these days," you say, eyes following him as he settles next to you.

“Oh yeah,” he says with a chortled emphasis. “So many. Arguably too many,” he jokes.

Taking a sip of the water, you set it down on the coffee table before leaning into Eddie. You lay your front against his side, resting your chin on his chest, tilting your face up to look at him. He meets your gaze, encouraging your closeness with arms that wrap around you, jetting out his lips— silently asking for a kiss. You close the distance without a second thought.

It’s a chaste thing, just a peck, but he pulls back with amused eyes and a widened smile as he licks his lips.

“You taste sweet,” he says.

“Yeah?” you ask, licking your own lips. He’s not wrong.

He licks his lips a second time, brow inquisitively quirking upwards. “Skittles or starburst?” he questions.

Grin wide as can be, “both,” you reply. He returns your flashy smile with mirth, shaking his head.

“Is that why you’re so sweet?” Boo. Corny and he knows it too with the way his smile pulls to the side, entirely too boyish, entirely too cute for you to call him out for it.

The stream of cult classic horror that has been the background noise of the evening becomes the main event as you both lazy away the rest of the night. After a few minutes of silent watching and tooth rotting cuddling, the black plastic cauldron at the front door begs for your attention. All of the shimmery and shiny contents— the dragon's wealth of mini chocolate treats and the witch's hoard of chewy colorful candy, it calls for you.

Eddie’s grip around your shoulders loosens as you slide from your spot next to him. Rolling off the couch, just barely falling to your feet, and quickly pushing up to a stance in a less than eloquent maneuver, he laughs softly as your lack of poise… or maybe he just knows what you're up to.

In a scurry, not unlike a wild creature of the night, you dash to the front door, grabbing the thin handle of the cauldron and claiming your goods. Eddie smiles at you, eyes beaming with what you hope is adoration.

“Bring it here then. We worked hard for that,” he says, motioning his head for you to come back, patting your seat with a heavy hand.

“Worked so hard,” you sigh through your giggle. “Seeing all of those adorable kids dressed up in cutesy costumes. Absolutely exhausting,” you continue, making Eddie laugh. Plopping back down on the couch you situate the cauldron to fit snugly between yours and Eddie’s thighs.

Like a couple of eager witches brewing the potion of the century, you and Eddie excitedly stir your hands through the cauldron, faces tilting downwards as you riffle for your pick of the metaphorical poison.

You, a fun-size twix bar, him, a mini box of milk duds, it’s all plastic crinkles and sticky teeth between the two of you. And of course, you can’t stop at just one. The marvelous collection of candy is far too enticing to not have more. Not to mention, it really is just plain addicting.

Brain rotting from the movie, you don’t even have the opportunity to notice how much candy you’ve eaten— especially when Eddie got up halfway through your milk-chocolate-candy-malt massacre and took all of the garbage with him. On his quick trip to the kitchen to get you a refill of water and himself a beer, he took all the physical proof of how much candy was consumed with him. At least if you saw the proof, maybe you would have gotten the hint to take it easy… or maybe you're just making excuses…

You truly had no idea how much chocolate and candy you had eaten until you felt the first sickly feeling in your stomach. Fortunately, it passed after a few minutes. Nothing a little water couldn’t fix— you made sure to drink lots.

Some more time had passed and you kept watching the movie. Eddie, the most thoughtful, cuddly companion, had offered you half of his Kit Kat, and you couldn’t say no. Then, to your demise, he opened a full sized package of pop rocks, pouring way too much of it in your mouth and the rest into his. The two of you crackled and popped together, giggling and laughing. What an image it must have been— the two of you huddled around the cauldron still, cackling like witches over the magic of pop rocks.

Gulping water like it’s anti-poison, you still felt relatively fine— the excitement of the night's little idiosyncrasies serving as the greatest magic circle, protecting you from yourself.

Unfortunately, as the night dwindled and the clock struck beyond midnight, you hadn’t stopped at the pop rocks. Possessed by the ghosts of Halloween, you went in for another twix, half a box of milk duds, some more skittles, and the devil knows what else.

You wish you could say it hit you all at once, but it was slow coming and your hand in the cauldron of candy was relentless. Eventually it was too much and you moved the cauldron to the coffee table, tapping out for the night. To say your stomach hurt was an understatement.

In the agony of your belly ache, you bit by bit began to take over the couch, sprawling yourself over Eddie in the process. First it was simply stretching your limbs out in an attempt to alleviate the overbearing pain in your tummy, then it was a little more than that as you leaned further and further into Eddie’s side. He had accommodated you, absentmindedly scooching over so you had more space for your body to stretch out and your legs to hang over the arm of the couch. He welcomed your head into his lap, running a hand over your forehead, petting down your hair.

Embarrassment kept you from saying anything. Every year you do this, and every year you swear up and down that it's the last. It never is, but that doesn't stop you from pretending. You put on your best brave face, but when you accidentally let out a low, zombie-like groan, Eddie looks down at you. Concern precedes his features, but amusement doesn't linger too far behind.

“Sore belly?” he asks. You can tell he's doing his best to hold back his smile to spare your feelings but the effort clearly isn't good because the corners of his lips still turn up.

You nod weakly, embarrassment gone with the wind. “Why didn’t you stop me?” you groan. He brings his palm to the side of your face, rubbing his thumb along your cheekbone.

“It’s tradition,” he says fondly. He's not making fun of you… but he's making fun of you.

“It’s a bad tradition,” you say with a pained whine. His amusement in the matter takes over, and his good health is taunting. Totally ache free, he smiles widely at you.

“I don’t know…” he starts, eyes twinkling in a loving tease. “I always come out of it looking pretty good ‘cause I get to rub your belly and kiss you better.”

Pouting out your lip, you frown at him, focusing all your dwindling energy into pinching your brows. He tilts his face to the side, pouting his own lip out— mocking you.

“Eddie,” you whine, weakly lifting your arm to swat at him. He laughs, grabbing your arm and pressing a kiss to your wrist before setting it back down to your side.

“Well, think of it this way, at least it's just candy this year. Not candy and alcohol,’ he says, raising a brow.

Entirely unhelpful because it's entirely true— and does absolutely nothing to get rid of your belly ache. It also doesn't help that he still looks beyond pleased with himself, and you— you continue to live in envy of him for not feeling an identical wrath to the one simmering in your poor, poor tummy.

“We’ll see how good you look when I throw up pop rocks all over you,” you mumble, cuddling closer to him, closing your eyes to help ease the pain.

“My poor baby,” he laughs. Leaning downwards, he presses a kiss to the edge of your forehead.

“Rub my tummy please,” you ask pitifully.

“Course,” he replies. A warm, flattened palm finds its way to your stomach, rubbing gentle circles, helping you relax, banishing the ache with each tender loving pass of his hand.

What a dreadful thing to be hexed with. Like a spell casted, damning you year after year for the rest of your life, a haunting belly ache, each and every Halloween. Jinxed by your own foolishness.

Not even a kiss from your true love could save you… you have to admit, it does help though. If you have to live with this terrible, horrible curse, you’re absolutely bewitched to have Eddie’s kisses, cuddles, and belly rubs to get you through it.

–––––

happy halloween ty! <3

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson drabble

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bug-light · 2 years ago

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GOLD DIGGERS OF 1933: 3.5/5

bold, brash, modern. i need 20 more of those musical set-pieces, but otherwise this is a hoot! a fun time capsule of a dusty, bad moment, and a cross-section of how two class strata dealt with a future they couldn’t see. the ending is powerful, and honestly punches above the movie's weight class. the promise of a Pre-Code Hollywood.

the plot meanders in Act 2, but it gives the characters room to breathe and show off who they are in a pinch. but my GOD, the musical numbers! holy cow! heightened, conceptual, real art.

Dick Powell’s aw-shucks boy charm (like Erroll Flynn’s Robin Hood) isn’t something that i like watching for long stretches, but there’s still something about his candor that’s contemporary. now, Aline MacMahon and Joan Blondell? there’s the magic. they have a graceful, electric ping-pong as a duo. a Transatlantic Amy Poehler/Tina Fey. Ruby Keeler, to me, is like the exact mental image of “1930’s soft-but-funny leading lady”. not as magnetic as the rest of the cast, or a Ginger Rogers, but not a bad actor at all.

a weird consequence of “The Discourse” is this weird belief that every single movie made before 2011 is misogynistic or homophobic et. al. and it’s not an unfounded take, but it’s also just… not true. this movie passes this Bechdel test in the first 5 minutes, and its characters run circles around most modern movies in the post-Buzzfeed era. each of the leads is a fully formed human, with lived-in dynamic relationships. they’re put down by the Depression, but they’re never squashed into one dimension. most of this cast are powerful women who know exactly who the fuck they are. the men that get in their way? the ass-grabbers? they’re a joke. men, especially rich misogynists, are infants to pity. even the most heteronormative things in the script are sort of delivered like a joke. "oh yeah a woman MUST have a man" in the last number isn't sincere, it's the popcorn version of reality, an escapist trope the movie knows it’s using.

that’s the thing, really. people look at a movie like this and think an audience was so stupid 90 years ago that they weren’t in on the joke. we haven’t really changed that much. you can be critical that only 3 unnamed people of color that show up in New York City (and i am), but the social politics of this script haven’t changed at all in almost 100 years.

if this came out today it would be a queer cult classic. poverty, disenfranchisement, solidarity with your friends, fragile masculinity, camp.

#movie thoughts #review #movie review #30s movies #musicals #gold diggers of 1933 #mervyn leroy #busby berkeley #movies #films

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hannahwatcheshorror · 1 month ago

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ANNABELLE: CREATION (2017)

💁‍♀️Strong Female Lead(s)

This movie sort of belittles and confuses the events in ANNABELLE, even though they show how they are connected. It has classic elements like the dichotomy of the innocence of children and the malevolence of demons but is frankly uninspired. Slightly better than Annabelle proper but only because it had better scares and acting. Other than reiterating that Annabelle is a conduit, they muddy the waters of what the entity wants and therefore the motivations to its actions.

⭐⭐.5

Trigger Warning Child Abuse (by Demons)

Orphans go to live in a house with the parents of a dead girl. The mother is hidden away having suffered an accident and the father used to be a rather famous doll maker (he crafted Annabelle, she is the only of her kind, making her extremely rare and once she is out of his hands she would be a collectors item that would cost a small fortune and not go to the hands of common folk so I have no idea how the couple from ANNABELLE get her but I digress).

Upon arrival, spooky happenings are afoot. A girl crippled by polo is the victim, she is led to find Annabelle and is tricked into freeing her. The doll is a lot more present and creepy in this film as is our dear demon friend. Exposition happens before the apparition vomits goo into the girls mouth (just as they did in The Conjuring) and she is possessed and made to stalk the house guests knife in hand. The parents are brutally murdered while the girls barely make it out alive.

The possessed girl goes missing then pops up in an orphanage where a young couple adopt her. This turns out to be the couple from the beginning of ANNABELLE whose daughter (the once orphan) joins a cult and murders her adoptive parents. As a not-so-subtle nod to the real Annabelle, the couple give the girl an actual Raggedy Anne doll which just leads me to more confusion of what universe we are in, the movie universe or our universe? The whole connection from Annabelle to Annabelle: Creation puts into question how the possession process works, how they got that which they were not offered, if the demon in Annabelle is just one or many… and a lot more taxing and unsatisfying questions that took a lot from the film and made me feel like I’d been had.

ANNABELLE: CREATION REWATCH

Why is the devil still using the little kid form after he's been found out? Why not just be the devil? If he is going to start right away being an evil fuck and do things that the little girl would never do then why pretend to be her anymore? What is the point? How in the hell did the entity rip Mrs. Mullins plain in half? What kind of poltergeist activity is that? That is just straight up what a bear does. Also how did that happen silently and with so little blood all over everything in the room? I am more baffled than I am afraid. Oh, wait, am I supposed to believe that the child tore a grown woman in half in less than a minute? Shenanigans!

The entity is so strong in film (especially compared to how strong they are in ANNABELLE), and it seems to straight up be the Devil himself? Full bodied apparitions and everything multiple times. Wack! What, does he suddenly go for a more gentle approach in the future (since the first movie is chronologically after this one)? Why is he so strong here? OH. SO THE DOLL IS JUST A CONDUIT FOR EVIL. Yeah, right, sure, whatever. It’s like they weren’t even trying. I rolled my eyes so hard when the priest said that. I mean honestly.

The connection at the end felt very thin after the rest of the movie was wild. Also the doll they use in this movie is cute in some frames but mostly just goofy looking and not like she wants to do harm. And the very end is a little reminder that the next movie to watch is THE NUN because there is nothing THE CONJURING universe movies like to do more than bring up that old bag.

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gaiuswrites · 4 years ago

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Thread the Needle | Yoga!Din

Pairing: Modern!Din x Yoga Instructor!Reader

Rating: Explicit (minors, goodbye)

Word count: 3.5k~

Warnings/tags: Yoga!Din (yes, he gets his own warning), hurt/comfort, language, smut, good ol' fashioned cunnilingus, piv

Notes: ✨ HI FRIENDS ✨ Yoga!Din rides again. This idea has been stewing (pun intended, you'll get it later) in my dumb brain for a while now and I've finally decided to write it. Technically, this takes place a little farther into the future (perhaps when the pair is more of an item, and less of a fuckbuddy fling, but thorough plot? We don’t know her). Anyways, enjoy! Cheers x

He doesn’t mean to be dramatic, but it’s the most agonizing sixty minutes of his goddamn life.

He’s seated on his mat, legs folded into a fucking pretzel—lotus pose, a calm voice inside his head corrects—and he’s steaming.

She isn’t here.

He is—Din, for all his faults, showed the fuck up to class but she didn’t, and in her place there’s some smelly old bat, this woman’s wrinkly ass – sits bones – plunked down at the front of the studio— occupying her spot, where she should be.

His eyes stalk the movements of this other woman as she putters around the studio—the godawful stench of something earthy wafting behind her— and it looks wrong. It feels wrong; like a violation somehow—of the space.

Of their space.

“The light in me recognizes the light in you,” they all utter in unison like a fucking hippie cult, and he books it out of there, swiping his mat up with an aggressive slap and rolling it under his arm.

“Hey,” he calls out, pacing towards the front desk. The receptionist— Riley? Kylie? Din can never remember—glances up from her phone, bright eyed.

Poor thing.

“Who the fuck is that?” He jabs his thumb over his shoulder towards the studio, the gaggle of ladies trickling out of it already gossiping and clucking away. Din doesn’t mean to sound accusatory; he doesn’t mean to be this intense. It’s not this girl’s fault, he knows that— but she’s in proximity and she’s shit out of luck.

“M’sorry?” she sputters, blinking up at him.

Breathe, that same voice coos—he can feel the tickle of it behind his ear.

“Our usual Wednesday instructor,” Din begins again, clipped. “Where is she?”

“Oh," she shrugs, "she called in sick.”

With a furrowed brow he pitches forward, craning over the desk. “Is she okay?”

The girl— Miley? —all but flinches back from him, a quizzical expression wormed onto her. “Uhm, yeah she has the flu—nasty one, too, but she’ll probably be back by ne-"

Din doesn’t linger long enough for her to finish. He’s wheeled around, striding from the building, the tinny chime of the bell ringing out as the door creaks closed behind him. The women exchange waggling glances in his wake, tittering in mouthwatering delight—more juicy fodder for their post-yoga soiree.

///

He doesn’t remember driving there. He made a quick stop to the grocery store— their grocery store, now— to pick up what he needed and before he knows it, he’s at her front door, bringing his fist down upon it in hard raps.

He hears movement—can sense it there, can practically imagine it: her lithe body tip toeing over— no, she’s got the flu, maybe it’s more of a shuffle—and peeking through the peephole. There’s a weighty pause and then—

The slow, dubious clicks of unbolting locks, the turning of a handle, the yawn of the wood as it opens.

Her voice is made small with disbelief and exhaustion. “Din?”

“Can I come in?”

She cracks the door ajar, standing in the frame of it now, a thick blue comforter slung over an arm, and she can’t quite mask the stupefied look etched onto her face.

He’s never done this. She’s never done this. He’s been to her place twice—three times, if he counts them fucking in the car in her driveway—and he’s certainly never showed up unannounced.

“Uhm, I-”

“Great.”

Din pushes past her, plastic bag swinging heavy at his side.

“W-What?”

She’s left gaping, mouth and eyes opened incredulously, ogling the way he struts through her entryway, before finally having the wherewithal to close the door. “Hey, what are you-”

“You need to keep your fluids up,” he says roughly—as if it’s obvious—making a beeline towards the kitchen.

She follows after him, bunching the throw snuggly around her shoulders. “Din,” she utters feebly, “I really don’t think you should be here right now.”

He doesn’t respond.

“Please, I don’t wanna get you sick."

He thunks the bag onto the granite countertop, producing two cans.

She doesn’t know why she bothers, it’s not like he’s listening to her anyways. If she’s learned anything about Din Djarin, it’s that he’s nothing if not stubborn—impossibly immovable. He’s tossed his jacket off, slinging it over the island, a determined glint in his eye as he prowls around the kitchen, opening cupboards at random.

“Seriously, I don’t want you catching this. I feel like shit… Oh my god, I look like shit,” she groans in realization, burying her head in the blanket, hermitting herself away.

“You look fine,” he replies gruffly, delving through the drawers in search of a can opener.

Frumpy sweats and a baggy t-shirt with some faded logo on it that’s absolutely hanging off her. Hair tossed up and sloppy, coiled into a loose bun, errant pieces rebelling every which way. A little pale, maybe. Tired eyes. Messy.

Beautiful, he meant. She looks fucking irritatingly beautiful.

Din continues to rifle through her cabinets and he exhales in frustration, “Jesus, where do you keep your pans?”

“Bottom right,” she points begrudgingly.

He grunts, finding one big enough and sets it down on the stove.

She can’t stop fussing over him; making comments here and there, asking if he wants anything, needs anything—water, kombucha, tea, a beer, a snack—if she can help in any way possible—and it nearly sends him over the damn edge.

“Would you quit it and just let me take care of you?” he grits out, and her mouth clamps shut with a pop.

She’s quiet after that, picking anxiously at a thread poking out from the blanket she wears like a shawl—observing as he empties the cans into a large pot, lights the gas stove, and brings it to a boil. She gives him space, stationing herself by the kitchen table, leaning a hip into one of the four chairs there.

Honestly she does try to keep to herself; she tries to accept what Din is doing for her, but she can’t help it. As soon as she sees him ladling the soup into one of her favorite cups—it looks so tiny in his grasp— and bringing it over to her like a goddamn patron saint, she breaks.

“You really didn’t have to do all this.”

“Yeah well, you need to get healthy so you can take your class back from that fucking fossil.”

“Din,” she admonishes.

“Baby,” he gives her a pointed look and she gnaws at the inside of her cheek, a blush blotting her clavicle. “She fucking smells. Now sit your pretty little ass down-”

“But-”

He presses a hand to her shoulder, forcing her to sink into the chair with a soft oomf, and places the bowl in front of her. “Don’t fight me on this. Drink the fucking soup.”

She huffs, glancing down, and then back up to Din.

“Progresso?”

He grunts.

She blows at the steam rising from the hot liquid. “Chicken noodle?”

Din crosses his arms over his chest and plops back onto the island.

“Classic,” she praises, mumbling into it.

She loathes to admit it, but the first sip tastes like heaven. It soothes her raw vocal chords, worn hoarse from nights of coughing, and seeps deep to warm her cold bones.

Din remains mute through the whole affair, staring owlishly as she spoons it down, slurp for slurp, until he’s satisfied she’s finished. When she does, she arches an eye brow at him— mouth pressing into a thin line. Happy now?

He tips his head and pads over to her.

“Wait, no you don’t have to-" He swipes it from the table, the spoon clanking against the ceramic rim. Din moves to the sink and she groans.

“Just leave it,” she whines, but he ignores her—stubborn stubborn stubborn— he’s already got soap on the sponge and the water running. Again, she huffs and rises to her feet, hem of the blanket trailing behind her.

“Thank you,” she gives in a hushed tone.

It’s so strange— being taken care of in her own place. She doesn’t know what to do, where to go. It’s ill-fitting, foreign, and she can only hover there, buzzing like a pesky insect beside him.

He’s wiping the dish off with a towel when he chances a peek back at her, practically stuttering when he does.

She’s swaddled in that fucking quilt, awkward and impossibly sincere and precious just standing there—watching him play house in her home. A brush of color has sprung up on her cheeks—more light in her eyes, too—and Din, try as he might, can’t pry himself off her.

She’s sick—she’s sick and gorgeous and he wants her. He wants her to feel better, he wants to fuck her, he wants to hold her. He’s overcome with it.

He swallows.

Fuck.

He abandons the bowl and rag in the drying rack and turns to her, her eyes widening, glassy and bloodshot, as he tucks a stray hair behind her ear— knuckles trailing down her jaw.

“Din…”

Her tongue skips over her lip—mocking him—damp and full and begging to be taken by his own, and her breath catches as he drags a thumb across that plump flesh, enrapt with the way her mouth parts so effortlessly for him—so fucking supple. Din’s gut twists and his blood thickens in his veins—the air between them rippling with something velvet and carnal.

He takes a step towards her. Her throat bobs.

“You’re gonna get sick,” she pouts in protest, rutting her palm into his chest, but there’s no fight in it. The blanket slips from her shoulders, hitting the ground with a dulled splat.

“Din,” she tries again, “I don’t want you to-"

He leans in, cradling her cheek, murmurs fanning over her face. “I’ll risk it.”

And he dissolves the gap, sealing her mouth with his in a tender kiss. It’s almost chaste at first, how they rove tentative and unhurried over each other—an innocent exploration— all until his tongue darts out to touch along her lip and she whimpers into him, letting Din dip into the dark cavern of her mouth. She tastes warm, like comfort and broth and rainy days, and he sighs as she brings her hands up to weave into his hair.

Neither of them fight for dominance like this—their tangle of soft sounds is perfectly balanced— Hatha; effort and ease, breath and body. He pushes, she relents—she surges forward, Din bends. They dance like this, slow as tar, until she catches his bottom lip between her teeth and tugs.

It’s like a switch has been flipped.

He seethes, inhaling sharply as his hands slide possessive and greedy down her body, grabbing fistfuls of her waist hidden under all the oversized layers, and crushing her into him. She’s making these airy noises, panting and urgent and fuck if it doesn’t tear him apart—viscerally, from the inside out.

Din walks her backwards, step for choreographed step, foxtrotting until she bumps into the kitchen table. He breaks away from the kiss to reach past her, frantically pushing away the unopened mail and receipts and loose change, the jingling of her keys cutting through the wanton quiet as they clang onto the tile, and he hitches her up to sit there with one fell swoop.

“I wanna make you feel good,” he husks, inbetween the bites he’s searing onto her neck. “Please, just lie back for me sweet girl.”

“Din, I-“

He silences her with a nibble to her ear, coaxing a breathy yelp out of her. “Lie back, baby.”

It doesn’t take much convincing after that. She acquiesces, Din’s wide palm splayed on her breasts, guiding her to recline back onto the table. He makes speedy work of her sweatpants, yanking them down her legs and flinging them off to land in a crumpled heap.

He sinks to his knees, pulling the cradle of her hips to the edge of the table before parting her thighs. The gloss of her cunt, wet and glistening for him, makes his hardening cock jump up to his stomach, and she twitches as soon as the cool air brushes against her.

“Fuck me,” he groans, whispering into her heat like he’s pained, like the sight alone is torturing him—like it’s slowly but surely ending his fucking life.

Din breathes her in with a sigh, that summer fruit tang— the scent of her aching and pulsing for him— and he starts tracing up and down her inner thigh with his tongue and teeth, nibbling along the path there until he’s at her apex. He’s dimpling her pliant skin with his calloused fingertips, strong hands wrapped under her knees, keeping them splayed as he kisses along her outer lips, nipping at her hip bones, teasing everywhere but where she needs him most.

It’s devastating—debilitating—and she’s shaking now. Every muscle, every fiber of her, convulsing with anticipation—with the promise of being dissected, of being torn apart and stitched back together again. She’s already got a hand covering her mouth, muffling the sobs he’s drawing out as he toys with her— playing her like a fucking fiddle.

Din’s eyes flit up to find her like this, brow pinched tight and cries stifled, and he chuckles— he fucking laughs— heady and ambered into her legs.

“You doin’ alright up there, teach?”

“F-Fuck you,” she hisses out with a weak whine.

God, she’s fucking perfect.

“You need something, sweetheart?” He smirks— she can feel the shape of it against her thigh, the way his stubble grates along her skin— and she can only mewl, speechless. Pathetic.

“Yeah, I know what you need...” Din hums, before finally - finally - taking mercy on her.

With one single drag, he tongues a broad stripe up her slit.

The noise that rips through her sounds like she’s being strangled— it gets caught in her throat like a trapped animal in hot car— a desperate little thing clawing to get out. Her nails scrape against the wood, leaving nicks in the chestnut lacquer. Immediately, she cants up to him, searching for his mouth hungrily and Din all but obliges as he clasps onto her hips, keeping her still while he fucks into her.

He’s carving her out— hollowing her; burying himself in her folds, nosing against her mound. He laps her up in kitten licks, delving the muscle of his tongue in and out of her, leaving her weak and gasping. Din laves up and down and side to side in clever little swivels, before he reaches her clit and sucks.

Her fist shoots from her mouth to grip his wavy locks, grinding shamelessly against his face.

“O-Oh my god, Din - fuck - Din. Oh fuck oh fuck-"

He loves it when she gets like this; that serene and tranquil exterior— the one that can quell a studio full of strangers into a haze with only the sound of her voice, that voice he can’t get out of his fucking head, the one that got them into this mess in the first place— shattered, mutilated beyond recognition and all she has left is her need— her wild, unbridled need.

Her need for his tongue, for his fingers, for his dick. Din Din Din, she only wants him— only needs him.

He slips a finger into her, easing past his knuckle in one movement, and her chin tips back, crown of her head digging into the table, hair mussing against the wood grain.

Her nipples have pebbled through her shirt, her pretty feet arched and contorted, and she’s heaving - writhing - like this above him.

He adds another digit, pumping in and out, the squelch of her pussy sounding lewd and obscene and fucking divine as he grazes her clit with his teeth, pulling at it.

“Fuck-” she rasps, legs quivering on their own accord— instinct and reflex demanding she tremble— and Din moans into her sex, feeling her walls constrict around his fingers, and he curls them up as he thrusts, hitting against that spongy patch insider her that makes her vision go white.

“Din, I- I’m—"

She can’t manage the rest. Instead of words, she cries— high pitched and wounded, as if she’s barely making it out alive. Her legs clamp around his head, bracing him there, and she cums— she loses it for him— her slick coating his nose, his lips, the hair speckled around his chin. She soaks him, and it leaves Din rocking his hips and humping the fucking air— as randy as a teenager, ravenous for anything, even if it’s just the friction of his pants drawn tight around his erection.

He takes her through her orgasm, lapping at her softly until she’s warbling—a slew of nonsense babbling out of her— and he leans back on his heels to admire his work, eyes singeing into her cunt made puffy and swollen pink, fluttering at the loss of him.

He plants one final kiss to the cleft of her pussy before shifting his weight back up to his feet, slotting himself between her.

Fuck, he isn’t as young as he once was— he feels his age in the ache of his knees. All the yoga in the world can’t erase his scar tissue, can’t undo time.

But he thinks maybe—if he’ll let himself—that she makes him feel younger. Lighter.

He squeezes her calf and begins to move away when she whimpers, bolting upright to palm greedily at the bulge pressing painfully against its constraint, her fingers fidgeting with his zipper and Din— in an uncharacteristic show of strength and self restraint— gingerly clasps onto her wrists, holding her still.

“Hey,” he murmurs, and her eyes snap up to meet his. “This isn’t about me.”

“No, but-”

“You don’t- we don’t have to-"

“Din,” she pants, grabbing onto the waist of his jeans and pressing her center into him, smearing herself along the denim there, her pearled clit catching on the rough fabric. Her eyes have gone jet-black with desire, obsidian lust burning through them. “Din, fuck me. Please fuck me, plea-“

Shit.

He’s never moved so fast in his goddamn life, unbuttoning his jeans in a flash, untucking himself— throbbing, leaking already—from his briefs. He gives himself two rough jerks, his blunt tip prodding at her entrance, before pushing into her with a gasp.

Fuck, she’s warm— not just warm, she’s hot. She’s molten, and she’s milking him for all he’s worth, gripping around him, fucking strangling his cock with how wet she is—how tight. God, she’s a fucking dream—a nightmare too, undoubtedly.

“Fuck baby - shit - you’re—hnng-” He groans—can’t even form a real sentence—all of his blood has rushed out of his brain and straight to the juncture where their bodies meet.

His eyes flutter deliriously at the feeling of her stretching around him like this and for a passing, fleeting moment, he considers the fact that he should be gentle with her— that she’s not feeling well, that she’s probably sore with body chills and God knows what else and that she should rest—

But once her knees are split apart and legs spread long— so fucking flexible, fuck she’s killing him— his well-met concern all but abandons him.

He fucks her hard— so hard she falls back, that unforgiving surface bruising into her spine. He probably hurts her a little—just how he likes, just how she loves.

Din plows into her, digging into the meat of her thighs, slamming into the pussy that takes him so fucking well, the pussy that feels like it’s made for him— like she’s made for him— and the table shudders with each roll of his hips, scraping it inch by inch along the tile, knocking against the chairs with loud, clattering bangs.

“W-Wait— wait wait wait-“ she pants, hands scampering up to his arms.

He slows his thrusts until he’s stilled inside of her, worry creasing around his eyes. “W-What? Are you okay—what’s wrong?”

“T-The table," she whines, “it’s from fucking IKEA. I built this piece of shit myself— there’s no way it’s gonna stay standing with you fucking me into it like this.”

Din barks out a laugh, throaty and genuine, and for the second time today, he comes to the conclusion that she’s perfect.

“Bedroom?” she nods down the hall.

“Bedroom,” he growls before scooping her up, lifting her off the table, her legs scrambling to hook around his waist, forearms bracing around the broad plain of his shoulders.

“Din!” she squeals in surprise, “I can walk, you know.”

“Shut up,” he grumbles, giving her a bounce and a light slap to her ass. “You’re sick.”

///

“Onions,” he mutters, leaden eyelids nestled shut.

He didn’t mean to stay over this long—well past sunset, later than he’s ever allowed himself—but how could he be expected to leave? After she came on his cock - twice - and he had filled her up until his cum was gushing from her, extricating himself out of this exact position of woven, spent limbs and sweat stained sheets sounded criminal.

“What?” She cranes groggily up at him.

“The sub. She smelled like onions. And patchouli.”

“Hey,” she tuts in mock offense, “Brenda is nice.”

“Good for Brenda. Doesn’t make her smell any better.”

“God, you are so rude,” she laughs, shaking her head as she nuzzles into Din’s side, lips curving into a sleepy grin against his chest—right above the aching thump of his caged heart.

Taglist (I apologize if I missed anyone!):

@radiowallet @pedros-mustache @djarinsbeskar @chasingdreamers @greatcircle79 @iamskyereads @imnotinlove-thisisnotyoursong @fan-of-encouragement @read-and-rec @helmet-comes-off @keeper0fthestars @hellabaybee @ourmotherofyearning @krissology

#yoga!din #I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL #modern!din #modern au #din djarin smut #din djarin x female oc #din djarin x fem!reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #smut #mando x fem!reader #mando x you #mando x female oc #hurt/comfort #fanfic #one shot #star wars fanfic #pedro pascal #din djarin au

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lavendersuh · 4 years ago

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what a feeling

johnny x fem!reader | badboy!au, too much fluff | 2.4k words

warnings: mentions of nicotine addition, alcohol

based off of this moodboard and au idea created by @neo-cult-ure!! thank you luv for allowing me to play around with this au idea! I originally wrote this bc i loved the idea and just wanted to self indulge in some writing a few nights ago. I probably could’ve fleshed this out more, but i’m in the middle of exams so i probably shouldn’t even be writing fic rn haha (fair warning tho there is so much fluff help) hope u enjoy!!

~~~

“I need your help.”

Haechan looks up to see an unexpected face peering over him. It wasn’t every day that resident bad boy Johnny Suh was asking a drama student for something. While the two of them ran around in slightly similar circles due to their mutual acquaintances, Haechan can’t remember the last time he spoke one-on-one with Johnny.

“What do you need my help with?” he asks curiously, as he shuts his locker.

“There’s this girl.” Johnny says, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck, “She’s different, Haechan, I need your help.”

Johnny has always been the most confident person Haechan knows. He always admired him for that, but now it appears that the tall boy has a rosy tiny covering his cheeks, along with a sheepish smile.

“My help? I can’t imagine being much help compared to Jaehyun… isn’t he your wing man?” Haechan responds.

He begins walking away, heading for his next class. He didn’t hate Johnny, nothing even close to that, but he was a bit suspicious of why he was coming to a self-proclaimed nerdy, drama student for help.

“This is different…” Johnny mumbles as he catches up with Haechan, “Do you know that diner a few blocks from here? The Neo Zone?”

Haechan looks over at him, “That neon, throwback place? Yeah, the theater kids go there after practice sometimes.”

“There’s a waitress there.” The older boy says, “She’s pretty, her laugh is like a song, Haechan, she’s perfect.”

“The problem, then?” Haechan asks. Johnny didn’t seem like the kind of person to have trouble with the ladies.

“She wants nothing to do with me.”

Haechan can’t help the laugh he lets out, “Did your usual flirting not work out for you?”

Johnny wasn’t a terrible guy, in fact, he could be very respectful (despite the cheesy pick-up lines sometimes), with a nice sense of humor and friendly smile to go along with it. But he had some bad habits. He refused to buy a helmet for his precious motorcycle. He smoked more than he should. He wasn’t always present during school hours. But underneath the leather jacket and torn up jeans, the boy wasn’t all that bad. He loved to flirt and fool around, but he never took things farther than someone wanted.

Johnny frowns at Haechan’s laughter, “I was hoping you could help me. She’s interested in 80s films, and I know you’re into stuff like that. You have a huge collection, don’t you? Could I borrow The Breakfast Club? Sixteen Candles?”

“Yeah, I can lend you some of them this weekend.” Haechan stops in front of the door to his next class, turning around to look back at Johnny, who’s grinning with appreciation.

“But Johnny?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s gonna take more than just flirting and watching her favorite movies. You gotta get to know her.”

Johnny throws him a classic smirk, his confidence returning to his face, “Will do, Haechan.”

~~~

“Hey, Y/N!”

You turn around without Johnny seeing the roll of your eyes. After his shameless flirting last weekend you knew he would probably be back.

His flirting wasn’t creepy; it was actually a little bit flattering. You couldn’t count on your hand the number of men that had spoken their fair share of sleezy comments to you. Johnny’s flirting was refreshing (but maybe that was just because he seemed to be your age instead of thirty years your senior). He asked about your favorite movies when you had mentioned liking 80s films. He complimented the sneakers you painted yourself.

But alas, he was also a walking stereotype, with the leather jackets and motorcycle parked just out front. When you waited on his table last time, you nearly coughed over the smell of nicotine that followed him around.

“Hi, Johnny,” you say, leading him to a booth in the corner, laying out the menu on the table.

“I watched some of the movies you told me about,” he says, smiling brightly at you, “Got any more recommendations?”

You can’t help but feel a bit flustered at the fact that he watched some of the stuff you recommended. He was paying you a lot more attention than you had previously thought.

While you take his order and bring out his food, Johnny flirts and makes jokes. You can’t help but smile at some of the things he says, despite yourself. By the end of his meal, you bring out his receipt, showing him the list of movies you wrote on the back in black pen.

“Thanks! Maybe I could take you out and we could talk about them sometime?” he asks, a hopeful gleam in his eye.

You roll your eyes at him, “You’re gonna have to do more than just watch my favorite movies for me to change my mind about you.”

“Am I really that bad?”

“You aren’t bad, Johnny. I just feel like I deserve more than just someone who smokes and rides a motorcycle without protection.” You say, walking off to ring up his order and get his change.

He huffs as you walk off. What was he to do?

~~~

‘This is stupid,’ Johnny thinks to himself as he pulls up to the diner, a week and a half later. He was driving Haechan’s car, but that wasn’t the only thing he had borrowed.

When Johnny had reconvened with the boy, Haechan told him he needed to change up his act in order to impress you.

And somehow this is how Johnny ended up walking into the diner with a dorky sweater and his hair neatly combed on a Friday evening. The neon sign of the diner glowed into the car, casting shadows on the funny pattern of the sweater.

He felt so stupid, but he was also kind of desperate. It was Haechan that had come up with the plan after suggesting he dress a bit nicer.

“I don’t know if I have any ‘nice’ clothes, Haechan,” Johnny had told the other boy.

“Then you can borrow some of mine!” Haechan looked up at how tall his friend was, “Or maybe my brother’s…”

Johnny knows he went overboard but he also really wants to see your smile again. He supposes it’s worth it.

“Welcome in,” you say, but as you turn around, you pause, “...Johnny?”

He smiles, reminding himself that he can be confident without the bad boy clothes and aesthetic. “Does your shift end soon? Could I take you out for ice cream?”

Somehow you can’t help but find the outfit change endearing, so you find yourself nodding. The boy was clearly trying to impress you, so you should at least give him a chance. And ice cream sounded excellent after a long shift. It couldn’t be all that bad, could it?

~~~

It ended up being quite nice, actually.

Johnny took you to an ice cream shop on the edge of town, leading you to a picnic bench after getting two cones of ice cream. As the sun fully slipped away and the stars started to come out along the purple sky, you both discussed movies, the future, your favorite foods, everything.

He was a good listener, holding eye contact and asking questions, full of attention. He told lovely stories when he wanted to, as well. You couldn’t help but find yourself to be a bit drawn to him when you finally gave him the time of day. His humor, his soft smiles, his contagious laugh. It was clear to see it would be easy to fall for someone like him.

It was hard though, knowing the reputation he held. He did risky things, a cigarette in one hand, his motorcycle keys in the other. From his stories, you knew he cut class. He never wore a helmet, either.

Just because he wore a nice sweater and borrowed a friend’s car didn’t change these things.

“I hope we can do this again, sometime.”

Johnny lightly holds your hand as he stands outside of your front door while dropping you off.

You looked up at him, his face soft under your front porch light. There was so much hope in his eyes, hope for the idea that you would give him more of your time, more of your smiles.

“Oh, Johnny,” you say, slowly, “This is really sweet, but this isn’t you.”

He looks confused for a moment, protesting, “Of course, this is me. I just cleaned up my act, like you said.”

You frown, “Sure, I did say that, but you changed all the outside pieces of yourself.”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” he asks.

“What? Johnny, no, of course not!” you exclaim, “I don’t care if you have this ‘bad boy’ act, and drink, and ride motorcycles. I just hate that you are so careless with yourself. You smelled like smoke every time I saw you. You never wear a helmet. You refuse to go to class sometimes. It hurts me seeing someone so bright, someone I’m enjoying getting to know, do nothing but hurt themselves.”

You squeeze his hand, hoping to offer some form of comfort while you speak your truths. “Just cause you changed your clothes doesn’t mean you are changed for the better.”

“What are you saying?”

“I like you, Johnny. You.” you say, taking his hand in yours, “Not this dressed up, masked version of you. I just want you to care about yourself. So I can care about you, too.”

Things are quiet for a moment, as Johnny stares at the ground. Finally, he looks up at you, an unknown flicker in his eyes.

You let go of his hand, “You have some stuff to work through. You’re sweet, Johnny, and I’m happy that we’ve gotten to know each other. Please call me when you figure things out.”

You go inside, leaving him frozen in place.

~~~

“Has Johnny come in lately?”

You are startled out of wiping down tables at the diner when you hear someone speak to you. You look up to see a honey-haired boy, who you recognize as Haechan, one of the drama club kids from school.

“You know him?” you ask, your eyes narrowed.

“Yeah,” Haechan rubs the back of his neck, “We’ve become friends recently. He told me he liked you. Asked to borrow some movies and stuff.”

Realization dawns on you that Johnny had probably gone to Haechan to get some guidance. The thought makes your heart squeeze. You’d been curious about where Johnny was getting the knowledge from. You recall Haechan being in the after school film club as well.

“He stopped coming in a while ago,” you say, “I gave him my number after we went out once, but I didn’t hear from him.”

You try to keep the feeling of sadness from washing over you, but you’re surprised at how affected you are by Johnny’s absence in the past few weeks. While his flirting could be a bit relentless sometimes, there was no doubt that he respected you through all of his charming antics.

“Hm..” Haechan seems to be deep in thought at your words.

You ask him if he wants to order anything, but he declines, thanking you for the offer before leaving nearly as soon as he had entered.

~~~

“Hey.”

You look up on your way out of the diner after your shift, startled by a voice. Johnny stands in the parking lot, next to his motorcycle, a soft smile across his face. He has his leather jacket back on, but surprisingly, you notice he has a helmet tucked under his arm, too.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, walking up to him, “You haven’t come in for a while.”

“Thought I’d come stop by,” he grins. “I heard you missed me.”

You look down shyly at the pavement, “I never said that… but yeah, I guess.”

It was a surprising feeling as you confessed that small truth to Johnny. It was boring around the diner without his conversations and flirting words. It felt nice to let those words out.

Johnny leans behind him, grabbing another, smaller helmet, “Wanna take a ride? I wanna take you out for another date. I even bought you a helmet. Hope you’re not scared to go a little fast.”

You nod, unable to keep the smile off of your face. It was nice hearing Johnny’s bluntness again. He seemed more relaxed, more comfortable with himself.

You run over to your car quickly, shoving your bag into the backseat before walking back over to Johnny. You climb on to the bike behind him, feeling him place the extra helmet on your head. While he adjusts it, his fingers brush across your face, sending chills down your spine.

Once he’s back in position, you boldly wrap your arms around his torso, letting your head rest across his jacket. You take a deep breath, expecting to smell the nicotine that follows him around, but his leather jacket smells fresh.

“Did you quit smoking?” you ask, as he turns on the motorcycle.

“Yeah, I quit after our date,” he explains, “I was kinda unbearable for a while there… That's why I didn’t come into the diner. After a while, I figured you woulda forgot about me.”

You let out a laugh as he pulls out of the parking lot, “How could I ever?”

You both ride along in silence, aside from your nervous laughs as the motorcycle speeds through traffic. You notice the elevation getting higher as he rides outside of the city.

Finally, he pulls off next to a scenic outlook overlooking the metropolis. The sun is starting to set, casting shadows along the buildings, along Johnny’s face. You can’t tell which you find more beautiful.

“I want to thank you.” he says, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you to look at him.

“For what?”

“For caring about me. I didn’t even care about me.” he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, cupping your cheek.

You smile up at him, his soft words making you bold. You lean in, kissing his lips in response. After you pull back, Johnny wraps his arms around you, pulling you into the warmest hug of your life.

It seemed simple, really. As the sun set with an orange glow, marking the end of a day, it also marked a new beginning. It left you both with a warm feeling. And what a feeling it was.

#nct-writers #neothestars #neo-constellations #johnny x reader #johnny x you #nct x reader #nct x you #johnny scenarios #badboy au #johnny #nct #johnny suh #my writing

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verdisketch · 4 years ago

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gorblimey id love a readmore function on the phone app, lugging my forsaken laptop out is a time and a half, hello and doin' replies

kaoottinenpeitto

i have 30 tomato seedlings ready to go for spring already!

that is fucking EXCELLENT dude. I am so jealous. my housemate does tomato plants and so far only two or three have survived to give us tomatoes, and of them, a lot go to the birds. pretty delicious when we get some, though.

polar-night-scout

I'm depressed but trying to shake it off, also thinking about finishing some old art. I don't think your posts are negative btw. It's necessary discussion that validates the concerns of many people, at least it made me feel less alone

Aw, I'm sorry to hear that. I believe in you shaking it off. I'm in that weird recovery stage where you're kinda-not-depressed but also kinda-not-neurotypical-yet and i wish this upon you as well.

Thanks for saying so - I don't like the comic because of the comedically bad writing, but also because I feel like it would crystalize a lot of harmful views for people in cults/christian cults in particular (which.....reading M1nna's last address, it really does sound like she's been sucked into a cult. very classic 'i was garbage and awful until I found [x] thing and now im better and more enlightened' cult language.) I was never part of a cult, thank god, but the isolating experience of being queer in a catholic church with pamphlets about the evils of gay marriage really does radicalize a person.

but yeah. I'm incredibly glad I'm not the only person who saw this and went this is Very Bad News. Thank you for reaching out.

wavewright62

I got a Cintiq and have managed to figure out enough to get an image started. Have erased all doodles, but at least I know how now brown cow.

Oh fuck yeah bro, I am excited to see your images.

zenit-of-the-sun

Well, ive graduated! So, thats that on that. And in a unrelated note, im currently watching sk8 to the infinity and it is fun.

I HAVE SEEN YOUR REPLIES/MESSAGES I WILL ANSWER SOON - but also CONGRATULATIONS on graduating!!! - and also i LOVE sk8, what a good show.

bogkeep

ive had more time to draw which is nice

yeah man I've seen on twitter you've been more active, I'm glad

notapaladin

I have fallen ass-first into a fandom best described as "noir murder mysteries in 1480s fantasy tenochtitlan" and i am living my best life imagining "but what if the main character & his ambitious, hyperconfident apprentice-turned-future-emperor KISSED"

hmmm. please give me details this sounds fucking incredible

#replies #THANKS FOR UPDATING ME :')#im glad everyone is doing well.#or if not well then moving along #sometimes that's all you got and it's valid. I'm still in uni but im on my last year #and im SO excited to finish and leave and become a starving artist in truth

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theparanormalperiodical · 4 years ago

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The REAL Story Behind The Omen (1976) And The 7 Most Terrifying Omens You Should Definitely Know About

You don't get much irony in horror.

You get buckets of fake blood, you get lashings of sexism with subtle notes of transphobia, and you have dozens of plot holes to get twisted up in. But The Omen (1976) in a very dark, very deathy way, was ironic.

Somehow a film about the rise of the Antichrist - AKA the end of the world - would be accompanied by wild animal attacks, sudden deaths, and even a decapitation. Yep, The Omen was, well, an omen. In fact, this cult classic horror flick is known as one of the most cursed films to date as a result of the story put to the screen and the events that took place behind it.

But the infamous tales surrounding this movie is not the only time an omen has preceded horrific events. In fact, we've been searching for signs of what is to come for millennia. Some of these signs still haunt our darkest nightmares.

You need to look out for them.

Today we will be determining just how accurate the portrayal of The Omen is to the prophecies of the Antichrist, the spooky events that took place behind the camera, and any other signs of death or misfortune you should be wary of.

*crow caws in the distance*

First, let's recap The Omen

The Bible is undoubtedly the best-selling book of all time. And, just like many other chart-topping hits, it’s been turned into a whole host of films. Each has suffered its own onslaught of criticism for its unique take on scripture.

The Omen is one of them.

But The Omen doesn’t follow Jesus’ life story, nor does it CGI various jungle animals onto Noah’s ark. It follows the Antichrist from birth to demise across 3 films (including a made-for-TV Canadian movie which we’ve all agreed to not talk about). It charts the rise of Damien as he develops his paranormal powers and loosely fulfils the prophecies set out for the Devil’s spawn.

Our story starts at his mysterious birth: after a woman has a stillborn child, her husband swaps it for a child whose mother died at birth. When Damien is just 5 years old strange things begin to occur. Animals act strangely around him, various aggressive dogs appear - oh, and Damien’s nanny rudely interrupts his birthday party by throwing herself out of a window with a noose around her neck.

Enter a new nanny who is less Mary Poppins and more Mary Most-definitely-a-satanist-who-wants-to-protect-Damien-and-overthrow-Christ. Things get worse (yes, it’s possible) when everyone around Damien begins to slowly work out that he may or may not be the Antichrist and in turn get killed in assorted horrific - but also mildly hysterical - ways.

It’s the father of Damien (the adoptive one, not the actual Devil) who leads the investigation into his origins. He traces back Damien’s origins back to his dead mother’s grave. Turns out she was a jackal.

Enter the Antichrist expert - he gives Damien’s father the low-down on dealing with demonic children, and explains that the naughty-step is simply not enough. He has to be killed on hallowed ground with a collection of knives I’m pretty sure I saw on Antiques Roadshow. He takes the Daggers of Megiddo and his infant son into a local church, forces him onto the altar and prepares to kill him.

The police shoot him before he can do this.

The following films chase up the rest of Damien’s short but eventful life and include: one sex scene, one King Herod-inspired ‘kill all babies born on this day cause one of ‘em is Jesus’, and even a last minute cameo by Christ himself.

Unlike most horror franchises, however, The Omen is not based on some paranormal investigation or a forgotten urban legend - the story inspiring it is kept very close to the hearts of many around the world. It’s this troubling premise which makes this film one of the most terrifying to date. Question is, just how accurate is The Omen to the actual end of days forecasted by Christians?

How accurate was The Omen to actual prophecies regarding the Antichrist?

Like most things mentioned in The Bible and other religious texts, things are typically vague or lost in translation. This means many concepts and stories have been rewritten and rethought in numerous different ways.

The Omen kinda had to connect the dots.

But there are a few defining features of Damien and his life story which are uncomfortably close to what might just be the apocalypse…

First, the Antichrist is supposed to be born as the opposite of Christ: he is not born of God and a virgin, but of Satan and a ‘whore’. Whilst The Omen appears to be slut-shaming a jackal, we do know Damien is the spawn of Satan. His animal mother (which is referenced later in the franchise when Damien is discovered to have Jackal bone marrow cells) is a reference to Jackals’ biblical presence as tricksters.

The Omen also sticks to the dominant line of thought on Damien’s career path. The Antichrist is mentioned 3 times in the New Testament and follows the end of the world, something we see in the dying moments of the final film: the Book of Revelation and other prophetic texts claim he will rule for 7 years before being defeated by Christ/Angel Gabriel’s army. He will be a tyrant, a trickster, rise to power, and (perhaps) claim he is a messiah.

The Omen is an abridged version of this. Damien is at one point a CEO and then an ambassador to the US before he sees an image of Christ when he gives out his last breath.

But here’s the thing.

Everyone has a different take on how the Antichrist will take his first steps to almighty power before being dethroned by the JC. And everyone has a different take on who it is.

Donald Trump, Hillary Clinton, the Pope (I’m pretty sure all of the popes have been accused of being the Antichrist), Prince William… Type in a celebrity name - literally any celebrity name - and the word ‘antichrist’ into Google and there will be “proof” of Kate Hudson using satanic subliminal messaging in How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days. By all accounts The Omen is just another version of how the Antichrist could rise and fall.

The Omen does include a few other suitably-satanic references: the Daggers of Megiddo don’t actually exist according to lore, but are associated with the end of the world. Megiddo is the site of the final battle between the Antichrist and Jesus Christ as mentioned in the Book of Revelation. Its Greek name was even ‘Armageddon’.

We also see throughout the franchise a satanist plot to ensure the Antichrist grows up safely and is ready to do his dark bidding. Modern theorists claim the Antichrist will arrive hand-in-hand with a satanic plot to overturn the Christian faith.

The Omen effectively charts out how the world might end. But for many people working on the film, they were experiencing hell in their own way.

What really happened on the set of The Omen?

An omen is defined as a phenomenon that predicts and hints at the future, or signals a change. The birth and rise of the Antichrist probably fits the definition as it signals the Second Coming of Christ, Judgement Day, and numerous other events anticipated by Christians across the globe. It is an omen for the end of the world.

Hell, it’s the ultimate omen. It doesn’t get more omen-ny than that.

But in some weird omen-ception, The Omen was an omen for the people producing the film. *squints in confusion*

Basics, it is now known as one of the most cursed movie sets ever. And here’s why.

Gregory Peck, the father of Damien, allegedly canceled his seat on a flight that would crash and kill everyone on board. When he did finally get on a plane and flew to England his plane was struck by lightning. The film’s writer experienced the same thing on a separate flight days after Peck’s.

The producers and some actors also nearly attended a restaurant one evening when it was destroyed in an explosion. One of these same producers, Mace Neufeld, also happened to check out early from a hotel in London which was blown up by the IRA shortly after.

The special effects designer witnessed traumatic events mirroring the movie far too closely, too: his wife was decapitated in a car crash, a similar event to one we see in the film. Even an animal trainer used for a scene from which Baboons act wildly and crazed around Damien was killed after being mauled by a tiger.

Yeah.

It’s all very ommeny.

But what are the other omens you should be looking out for?

The 7 omens you should most definitely be watching out for

#1 - Crows

All films or TV shows that feature death or war also feature crows. Their fateful cawing has historically been an omen of misfortune or death and is used for foreshadowing as obvious as the colour black. A single crow is an omen of bad luck - a murder of crows (more than five) is an omen of death or illness for either you or someone you know.

In ancient times birds were common omens and it was the type of bird which signaled different positive and negative changes. Crows in particular were believed to be messengers between the mortal world and the afterlife. Witches were also believed to use crows to cast their death spells.

They have since gained a reputation for being cunning and intelligent creatures, much like the jackal mother of Damien in The Omen.

#2 - Owls

I told you - we are convinced birds bring death.

Much like crows, owls are very deathy. Walking under a tree and hear an owl hoot? You or a family member are gon’ die. One lands on your roof? Death is a-coming.

Owls are even historically believed to herald doom with one Roman Emperor - Antonius - dying after an owl was seen perched above his bedroom door. They are considered wise creatures according to ancient civilisations, as if they know something about the future we do not.

The Welsh, on the other hand, believed they bring fertility. If an owl hoot is heard by a pregnant woman she will have an easy labour.

#3 - Doppelgangers

According to German and Irish folklore, seeing an ‘exact replica’ of you born to different parents is a sign of your death. If your family members or your friends see one, beware of impending danger.

These ‘double-goers’ are considered evil twins in folklore. If you spoke to your doppelganger, they’d try and trick you and plan evil ideas in your mind.

Breton and Cornish folklore claim they are Ankou, servants of death himself who thus personify it.

#4 - Death Knocks Thrice

Let’s set the scene: you’ve just ordered a Nandos and you hear the knock at the door. But instead of a halloumi-topped beanie burger, you open the front door to no one.

Rather than a delicious meal you will soon experience death.

Irish, Scottish, and Native American communities follow this folklore and it is referenced in many different films including The Conjuring. The Perron family hear continuous knocking which comes in threes - the Warrens, however, claim it is a demonic entity or spirit mocking the holy trinity.

#5 - Phantom funerals

Funerals normally come after the omen of death, you know, when the actual ‘death’ part has occurred. But fake funerals led by ghosts are an omen of the death of a loved one. They will take the same place and same route of the actual funeral, however.

If you do see one, however, don’t look into the casket; otherwise, it’ll be your own.

(Dun dun duuuh)

It is believed they are sent by fairies who are infamous for causing mischief. A similar phenomenon, ‘the tolaeth before the coffin’, is when one hears the coffin making process or the funeral take place.

#6 - Solar eclipses

We now have the benefit of science and astrology to tell us that sometimes it gets really dark and really cold in the middle of the day. But way back when, the sun effectively disappearing for a few moments was rather more terrifying.

Ancient civilisations believed it was a warning from pissed off gods that they were going to exact some revenge and send some impending danger or death. Most cultures even believed a folkloric beast or native animal was eating the sun. In fact, that’s why many communities would bang pots or pans together during eclipses to scare away the demon doing it.

They are still considered a mysterious sign something bad is about to go down.

#7 - Black butterflies

We end on an omen I’m probably going to incorporate into my aesthetic for 2021. A black butterfly is considered to be a symbol of misfortune and death in some cultures and a positive sign for others. It could also equate to a less lethal ‘death’ - that is the death of a relationship or a project.

It can thus be considered an omen of renewal or rebirth. And lord knows we all need that for next year.

Have you ever seen an omen?

Let me know in a comment below.

If you liked this post make sure you like, reblog, and then hit follow. I post a new article on the paranormal every Saturday and a new ghost story everyday!

*flies away with the black butterflies*

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aion-rsa · 4 years ago

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How TCM Resurrects Plan 9 from Outer Space for Ghoulish Table Read

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UFOs are often visible, but not always. Sometimes they make noise, sometimes they are silent. If you’ve never seen a flying saucer, that is proof they are everywhere. This is one of the many amazing things we learn in TCM’s upcoming table read of Ed Wood’s masterwork, Plan 9 from Outer Space.

We once laughed at the horseless carriage, the aero-plane, the telephone, the electric light, vitamins, radio, and even television. But it took a while to get the joke about Plan 9 from Outer Space. Written and directed by Edward D. Wood Jr. in 1959, it was a little-known independent film with a direct line through directors who carried on the DIY-filmmaking spirit like John Cassavetes, Melvin Van Peebles and John Waters. The Cult of Plan 9 began when Ed Wood was posthumously awarded a Golden Turkey Award for Worst Director of All Time in 1980. Though this has been disputed.

Turner Classic Movies is the go-to channel for prestigious films. You can always count on a showing of The Treasure of Sierra Madre or The Public Enemy, or Citizen Kane. But top prize in the Golden Turkey awards carries its own prestige.

“This isn’t ‘Plans One Through Eight from Outer Space,’” Jerry Seinfeld proclaimed at the Chinese restaurant in a 1991 episode of Seinfeld. “This is Plan 9. The one that worked. The worst movie ever made.”

The SF Sketchfest presentation was adapted for the stage and virtual stage by former The Simpsons writer, and self-proclaimed Ed Wood superfan, Dana Gould. He and his Stan Against Evil co-star Janet Varney have been acting in live staged reads with a revolving cast of eager comic actors for over three years. The Zoom production also features Kat Aagesen, Bob Odenkirk, Bobcat Goldthwait, Oscar Nuñez, Deborah Baker Jr., Maria Bamford, David Koechner, Jonah Ray, Paul F. Tompkins, Baron Vaughn, and Gary Anthony Williams. The miniature visual effects, which are by no means just cardboard cutouts, were done by Mike Carano, and the sounds of musical accompaniment came out of Eban Schletter.

Laraine Newman is the narrator. She brings Gould’s adapted stage directions to such vivid life they can reanimate the dead, which is a key element of the actual plan at the center of the cult movie. Originally titled “Grave Robbers from Outer Space,” the film marked the last appearance of Bela Lugosi, who had also acted in Wood’s 1953 feature Glen or Glenda.

Lugosi’s footage for Wood’s unmade film “The Vampire’s Tomb,” was repurposed for Plan 9. Lugosi died of a heart attack on Aug. 16, 1956. To complete the film, Wood cast his chiropractor, Tom Mason, who in spite of his professional familiarity with the human skeletal structure, somehow believed he could mask the fact that he was much taller than the horror icon by pulling his cape over his face.

The table read of Ed Wood’s Plan 9 from Outer Space is part of TCM’s Classic Film Festival weekend, which runs through May 9. For easy comparisons, the original film will air directly after the event. Dana Gold and Janet Varney spoke with Den of Geek about refurbishing the low-budget cult classic, and how, like their predecessor, they proudly spared every expense on its new décor.

Den of Geek: I watched the table read a second time while playing Plan 9 in another window, and I just have to say, recreating those sets must’ve cost a fortune.

Janet Varney: Yeah, just like it cost Ed Wood a fortune.

Dana Gould: That’s the genius of, of Mike Carano. All those things were this big. You can see, I have the Bela Lugosi statue and the saucer. What he did was so amazing, and it really brought [the production] up to be better than it had a right to be. When Janet and I discussed doing this on Zoom, we were like, “Well, how do we take the limits of Zoom and turn them to our advantage? Why is it on Zoom?” By doing it, one, it allowed us to get a cast that we might not be able to get. Got people in different places. Maria Bamford was in Minnesota. Bob Odenkirk was in Vancouver. So, we could get people that normally we couldn’t get. Doing it in black and white helped. And then what Mike Marano did, it made it something unique.

Janet Varney: I would just also add, as a tribute to Ed Wood, we’ve never had anyone that we’ve asked to do the show who hasn’t wanted to do the show. Whether or not they’ve been in town for the live version, every person that we love that we’ve asked to be a part of the cast at one time or another is like, “Oh, my God, I need to do that. I want to do it. When is it? Please say it’s not a date I’m out of town. Please say it’s not. Will you ask me on the next one?”

Everyone knows this movie. And the idea of getting to step into its shoes in any kind of iteration is really exciting for every single person that we’ve ever asked.

Dana Gould: And it’s great to see how different people play different parts. Joel Murray plays the General different than David Koechner plays the General. Bob Odenkirk plays Eros differently than Patton Oswalt plays Eros. It’s always great. And Janet and I, we don’t want to know what you’re going to do. Just do it.

For this production, you assembled the all-star team. But were you ever tempted to use the same kind of players Wood used: wrestlers, tap dancing accordion players, chiropractors, and radio psychics?

Janet Varney: That’s a great question. I feel like we also have pretty good access to all those folks. So maybe that will get the next variety version. Because our friend, Jim Turner, is just about to do a fundraiser for the kind of variety acts who have been struggling in this last year, because of the many myriad things that they do.

So, I actually love that idea, Tony. And you’re right, it would be a totally different experience. That’s an interesting idea too, because we do come at it with a bunch of people who love the movie, but there’s also some major winking going on, as all the comedians and actors try to lean into being: “It’s my first time on stage, maybe my first time saying words,” really playing that up.

In the future, do you hope to see this performance eviscerated on Mystery Science Fiction Theater 3000?

Dana Gould: That would be great. If they did this.

Janet Varney: Especially because Bill and Kevin have done it. They have been in our production of Plan 9. Bill had been what Laraine [Newman] did. Bill did the narration at a show, at SketchFest, and it was great.

Dana Gould: I would like to see Jonah making fun of himself.

Janet Varney: Yeah. Let’s get meta. Our fans can handle it. Fans of MST3K can handle it. Plant 9 fans can handle it. Everybody could handle it.

I know I’m paraphrasing Seinfeld, but as the person who’s trusted with Plan 9 and all that comes with that, did you get to see the first eight plans from outer space?

Janet Varney: And are you allowed to talk about it if you did?

Dana Gould: Exactly. What were they?

Janet Varney: So many questions.

Dana Gould: So many questions.

Were the first eight plans rejected?

Janet Varney: Or were they all executed? And I use that word purposefully. Were all of those plans executed and they didn’t have great results?

Dana Gould: That’s a drunk man at a typewriter, “Plan 9 sounds good.” I remember showing Plan 9 to somebody who’d never seen it before. And they turned to me afterwards and said, “Did he not have any friends he could have shown this to and gotten notes?” He didn’t have those kinds of friends.

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By David Crow

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What are some of your favorite mistakes from the movie?

Janet Varney: Oh, God. I was going to say Dana had mentioned that the first time he saw the movie was on a video cassette that Tom Kenny and Dan Spencer, and Bobcat Goldthwait showed him. And I was actually going to ask, did you think it was the tape glitching at the end when the monologue goes from, blip to [makes a noise]? And you’re like, “Wait a minute. Back that up, hold on. Is somebody going to fix this?”

That’s definitely one. That’s a spectacularly new, weird problem in a movie that was not a consistent problem. So, you’re like, “Wait, how did that happen one time, in this very, very overt way?” So good.

Dana Gould: From the very beginning, it’s like the first time you saw William Shatner do “Rocket Man.” I remember, I had a party at my house, and I was working on The Ben Stiller Show, and everybody was there. And back then, there was no YouTube. You would just have these cassette tapes with all of the weird stuff that you had collected on it, like the farting priest and all these weird things that you had, and “Rocket Man.” And I remember showing “Rocket Man” at this thing and Bob Odenkirk just shouting at my television, “You’re a grown man. You’re a grown man.”

I always thought Shatner gave the same line reading for “Mr. Tambourine Man” as he did for “Kahn.”

Dana Gould: Yes, he did. He did. He had a couple of tricks, and he used them. Yeah. There’s one direction he doesn’t get a lot, “You want to just try one big? You want to just see how it goes?” “Take the chains off and let it rip?”

Was some of the background music in this reading, especially the oxidation bit, inspired by The Simpsons?

Dana Gould: That’s all Eban [Schletter, the musical accompanist], you have to ask Eban. But again, that’s great, especially the Solaronite song. Necessity being the mother of invention, that is a brutal chunk of dialogue for anybody, a thankless, brutal chunk. And every time I give it to Paul, I say, “I’m apologizing ahead of time. I give it to you because I don’t want anybody else to do it. Because if it was anybody else, it would be death.”

Eban came up with that. And we were just like, “Maybe we can break this up. Maybe there’s a way to break this up.” And then Eban came up with that kind of thing. And it is one of those things that I love, that it’s like a mutant. It’s grown into its own weird thing to solve its inherent problems. You can’t describe it to anybody. It’s just like, you have to see it.

I used to remember describing Kevin Meaney, the comedian. I used to just tell people, “I can’t describe what he does. You just have to see him, but then you’ll know. You only need a minute, and you’ll get it. But I can’t describe it to you.” That’s really a good analogy.

Laraine Newman, I believe, steals this as the narrator. How much of that is improvised and how much of that is written by you? Because I know that you wrote the stage directions.

Dana Gould: It’s written, but Laraine, I call it “newscaster flat.” Laraine knows how the notes need to be played. It’s like the Wrecking Crew, you have a guitar behind you. I don’t know what Tommy Tedesco is going to play, but I know it’s going to be good. I don’t know what Carol Kaye is going to play, but I trust it. It’s the same thing. It��s a murderers’ row, and I wouldn’t have the gall to tell them what to do.

Janet Varney: It takes a very specific kind of confidence as a performer to be that deadpan. It’s such a specific skill. And it’s a skill, I think, born out of a type of bravado and expertise that’s all just tightly contained in this tiny space, where she’s not trying to sell any of it. And that is the genius behind what she does is just letting it lay out there like that. I mean, it’s hard.

When you have something that you know is funny and you would be laughing yourself, if you were listening to someone else read it, it’s so hard not to want to sell it. Like, can I make this even funnier? And she’s like, “No, I need to take it all the way back, to the back of the house just like, who me, who me? I’m just reading these things.” And it’s just so brilliant.

Dana Gould: This is a person that did sketches on live television with John Belushi and Bill Murray. So she definitely knows where her center of gravity is.

Janet Varney: That’s right. Well said.

Dana Gould: And yeah, again, unflinching. And that takes, as a performer, just like a little inside baseball, a lot of control and to really, to have control of your own ego, to know that I’m going to get what I want by stepping way back. I mean, Sterling Hayden is the only person I’ve ever seen blow Peter Sellers off the screen. And he does it just by, he’s like a statue, but there’s so much weight to it.

In the original movie, I love the “Criswell Predicts.” So I wanted to ask, Janet, do you get asked to do bathroom readings?

Janet Varney: I would if asked, I would love to. That’s one of the things that’s great about Ed Wood in general too, is just having this a sort of fascination with the occult and that kind of thing. And the way that it fits into camp is so appealing. And so, yeah, I would very happily jump back into some bad psychic practices if I could. Hopefully, I will someday.

Dana Gould: And an unerring dedication to Wicker furnishings.

Janet Varney: That’s right. Always that. Paula and her wicker.

Because the table read is done during COVID and everyone feels an immediacy to Zoom calls, were you ever at all concerned about an Orson Welles’ scenario, where the residents of San Fernando Valley will believe they’re under attack by flying saucers from outer space?

Janet Varney: If only.

Dana Gould: Yeah. That’s the least of our problems out here. I don’t know when you visited last time, but the walking dead, they’re around.

The table read of Ed Wood’s Plan 9 from Outer Space airs on Friday, May 7 at 8pm on TCM. Plan 9 from Outer Space airs at 9:30pm.

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mybeautifulbeautifuleternal · 4 years ago

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i turn to paths that lead home; ix

Chapter 9: i'm comin' home now, real soon

rating: its a gen fic for The Umbrella Academy

words:1.7k

chapter:9/?

warnings: nothing atypical for the umbrella academy, spoilers for season 2

AO3

a/n: many many many thanks to my discord friends who were a big help with creating and editing this @NightingaleComics @viridescentshade @cbuugdrama9 on ao3 @boardwalk-absurdist @3ternalslumber on tumblr

Summary: Luther held Vanya a little tighter, refusing to let her go. It changed the game and made all the difference.

First || Previous

Summary: Three brothers, Four siblings, Five people, and Six makes an appearance too

Weeks after that almost encounter with the blonde woman holding the violin, Allison was still feeling off-center. The reminder of her siblings, Vanya especially, was weighing heavy on her. She wasn’t sure why — she had had plenty of other things that brought her previous life back to the forefront of her mind but this time, she was having a hard time moving past it.

Every little thing she did now prompted an old memory to surface.

Allison was cutting some vegetables for dinner; she remembered missions where Diego was allowed to use his powers unlimitedly. There was an old bookstore she had to pass on her way to work that displayed a different collection of works in the windows every week; she was reminded of all the times she went to look for Ben only to find him curled up with some old, dry classic, enthralled with the story hidden in its pages. She would gaze out the window of her bedroom and see the moon perched up in the dark night sky; there was Luther, up there alone for four years, carrying out the will of a father that didn’t care. Every time she had to swallow down a smart, cutting remark that wanted to slip out in response to the overwhelming racism she now faced; Five was Jumping to higher ground, wanting to lord over them how he was right and they were wrong. Allison went out shopping and saw a particularly swirly skirt; she remembered Klaus dancing around the living room in her old, black, leather skirt. And every time anything even classical played on the radio she saw Vanya; standing shy and timid, scared of reaching out to her family; standing tall and proud, able to bring down the world.

Allison knew she was worrying Raymond but she didn’t even know where she would begin when trying to explain. How could she explain the crazy story of her life?

‘So Raymond, I was bought from my birth mom for a couple of thousand dollars by a man that should never have children. Yet he did, I was one of seven babies bought that day. Oh yeah, he bought all of us from our mothers because we were born in an unusual way. Our mothers weren’t pregnant the morning we were born. Yeah, we were all born on the same day. And before I forget, we all have superpowers and we used to fight crime in school uniforms. And the reason you’ve never heard of us? We time traveled from the year 2019 to get away from the literal end of the world. And the end of the world was caused by our sister who blew up the moon.’

Allison didn’t want to start on where any one of those could go wrong. She just had to pull herself together. And she was going to. Tomorrow. Allison had the day to herself, Raymond at the college for classes. As she was cleaning up after breakfast, Allison told herself that today was going to be the day she mourned and then let go. It was coming up on two years and she couldn’t hold onto those ties anymore. She was Allison Chesnut now and Allison Hargreeves was dead.

She finished putting away the dishes and made her way back to her bed. Her plan for the day was to cry the day away. She could already feel the tears collecting on the rims of her eyes. Allison was glad she hadn’t put on any of her make-up, knowing that it would have been an ugly look for her.

Today was going to be about mourning the past.

And tomorrow? It was going to be about the future. Just like every day after that.

Klaus woke up, disoriented. He wasn’t particularly worried. Klaus had been waking up disoriented since he discovered drugs and alcohol when he was a young boy.

Nowadays, he was disoriented less because of the drugs or drinks but because he didn’t recognize where he was when he woke. It was common for his cult to simply move him while they were traveling. He had tried to tell them to stop doing that but as time went on, he started losing control over the group.

As he finally opened his eyes, Klaus saw that he was in his California bedroom and gave a deep sigh.

He was growing tired of everything. It was day after day of the same thing, the same people, the same lying. Klaus was apparently the only living Hargreeves (baring the original Bastard) and it was getting harder to go on every day.

The only thing that kept him going was the thought of Dave. Klaus knew that Dave was working in his uncle’s hardware shop when Kennedy gets shot and Klaus was planning on being there to stop Dave from enlisting. He had to stop Dave from dying. He couldn’t live with himself if he let Dave die again when Klaus had a chance to save him.

He was just waiting out the days until he made his way east.

As Klaus made his way out of his bedroom, he started dodging all his followers. They were all so grabby and touchy-feely. He was getting hives just thinking about it.

Ugh

Klaus was only occasionally watching where he was going, attempting to find Ben, when he was badly startled. One of the newest followers came up from behind him. Only he looked exactly like Diego from the corner of his eye. The follower had the same confident strut, the same knowing smirk that Diego had frequently spotted — like he knew a secret that you never would.

The follower’s sudden appearance sent a wave of grief roaring through Klaus and he jerked away from everyone, turning to sprint back towards his room. Thankfully, he managed to get there before anyone else and he slammed the door shut, throwing the lock so none but his dead brother could join him.

When he was safely ensconced in his room, Klaus wiggled his way out of his clothes and back into bed. Pulling the covers over his head, Klaus broke down. He did his best to muffle all the sounds he was making, not wanting the cult to break down the doors to check on him. He just needed a moment alone.

Later, the sun now heating his cocoon considerably, Klaus rolled over and stared over at Ben. He wasn’t sure when his brother appeared but he was glad. Even if Ben was a giant, nagging, annoyance — he was Klaus’ brother, his only family. It was a glad reminder that as much as he thought, Klaus didn’t want to be alone. And he wasn’t.

The two of them stared at each other, eyes rimmed in red.

“Coming up on three years, huh?”

“Yup.”

They continued to stare at each, both ignoring how their cheeks weren’t drying off. Klaus eventually rolled over, folding his hands over his stomach.

Ben joined him, copying his posture. They were silent, watching the sun descent across the sky by the shadows across the ceiling.

“I miss them,” Ben whispered the secret, almost ashamed. Klaus, glowing blue, reached over to grab Ben’s hand. One of the best and worst parts of being sober for nearly three years was the ability to interact with Ben. Klaus had spent two decades with a ghost hovering over his shoulder, criticizing all of his decisions — now he had a ghost hovering over his shoulder, able to smack Klaus for his bad decisions.

On the other hand, Klaus could do things like this — hold Ben’s hand and offer physical comfort. Klaus turned his head toward his brother and saw he was already looking back. Closing his eyes, Klaus leaned forward a little, Ben matching him, until their foreheads were touching.

This was something the two of them had taken to doing, some little touches to remind each other that no matter the words spoken (or not spoken if they decided to freeze each other out) that they loved each other, that they still considered each other family, practically twin brothers.

Throughout the rest of the day, Ben and Klaus ignored the various people who knocked on the door wanting to speak to the Prophet. They ignored the pleas and the threats, the loud pounding on the door and the soft knocks on the windows.

They were mourning together; the lives they could no longer live, the family that they lost back in 2019, the family that they lost in the 1960s.

Five grit his teeth. This jump was more painful than any other he had ever tried before. He could feel himself losing the grip he had on his siblings’ hands. A particularly bad jerk almost spun him completely around.

Of course, he had never tried to jump with his entire family because they were running from the apocalypse before.

This jump was longer than his others as well, spinning him around and up and down and Five could feel the frustration growing within him. If only his family had listened to him. If only he was smarter and did better. He tried to stifle them, but the tears welled up.

His portal spat him out in a dirty, empty alley and he forced the tears away. He had to find his family. He had to fix this.

The Handler had been at this job for longer than most people were aware of. She had devoted her entire life to this organization. She had become this job, leaving everything (including her name) behind.

And they repaid her by bringing in Carmichael?

Who did they think they were?

Handler took a deep breath, aware that getting mad wasn’t going to help her. Instead, she focused on her plan. Her greatest plan, her greatest weapon.

It was time to send Lila in.

#the umbrella academy imagine #The Umbrella Academy #tua imagine #tua #Allison Hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #ben hargreeves #five hargreeves #the handler #lila pitts #aj carmichael #allison hargreeves imagine #klaus hargreeves imagine #ben hargreeves imagine #five hargreeves imagine #the hargreeves imagine #my stuff #M's fics #i turn to paths that lead home

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years ago

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Survey #406

“turned on all the lights, the tv, and the radio / still, i can’t escape the ghost of you”

Have you ever had an ulcer? No. Do you have any rare medical conditions? I believe AvPD is considered to be a rare mental disorder. Do you have to carry an epi pen? No. What color is your mailbox? I think it's black. I don't pay attention. Would you ever want a job working with animals? I'd love to. The thing is, without a degree in something, my duties working with animals would almost certainly involve cleaning up after them, which I am WAY too squeamish with fecal matter and vomit to do. It's extremely embarrassing, but I've never even been able to clean up after my own pets if they ever had an accident or got sick. I obviously couldn't do it with random animals. Did you have a good high school experience? It's... so odd, retrospecting on high school. In some ways, it was the best time of my life because of my memories with my friends and especially Jason, but at the time, I absolutely loathed it and was horribly depressed. But at least I saw a future for myself. I took better care of myself, all that stuff... That Brittany would be fucking mortified to get a glimpse at who she becomes. Have you ever watched any Monty Python movies? Which one is your favourite? I know I've seen some of at least one. Would you ever get a "below the belt" piercing? Nah. If a couple is married, do you think there should be any legal punishment if one person cheats? No...? Like don't get me wrong at all, I am firmly against cheating under any circumstance, but for there to be legal retribution seems extreme. What is the greatest source of anxiety for you? My future. Are there any hallucinogenic drugs you’d like to try? Nah man. What made you choose your current job? I'm unemployed. Do you feel uncomfortable on the dance floor? Or are you confident with you dancing abilities? Oh hunny, you won't see me on the dance floor. Unless MAYBE if the Cha-Cha Slide comes on, or the Cupid Shuffle. That's as skilled as I get, haha. Is it exciting to you to imagine having an affair with a teacher? ... No??????????? It's fucking creepy. Adultery isn't exciting. Do you like your smile? No. I absolutely look high when I smile. What is something silly that you believed to be true when you were a child? That I could invoke the traits of any animal, which I just referred to as my "animal powers." Like for example, if I "called upon" a kangaroo, I could jump higher. I was a weird fucking kid. Have you ever been in a relationship with someone you completely connected with on a mental/emotional level, but did not find physically attractive in any way? Was physical intimacy a problem? How did it work out? I was never really physically attracted to Girt, but it was never a big deal to me. I cared way more about his personality and how much he cared about me. We were never really "intimate," per se, we just would give each other a simple peck. It didn't work out, but not at all because of physical things. He was just too much of a brother to me. What classic or cult movie have you never seen and have no desire to? Hm. I know there's some, but I'm blanking. Does The Human Centipede count here? Like everyone knows about it, so I would assume it does. I have ZERO desire to see a second of that repulsive movie. Have you ever taken a real liking to a band/singer you never ever....ever thought you'd enjoy? Maybe Melanie Martinez? Her voice is so cutesy, as are some of her songs, but I really enjoy how dark her lyrics can be. People who know me would probably be shocked to hear I thoroughly like her. After seeing the movie Avatar did you suddenly view our Earth as ugly and/or boring? If you have not seen the movie, do you think it’s worth your time? I've seen a little bit of it, but I never finished it because I was very tired and chose to go to sleep. I actually do want to see the full thing, though; it looks very good. How helpful are your parents to you? Would they help you to pay for your first apartment? College? Where does the line end? My parents are truly incredible with helping me the best they are capable of. They helped me pay for school, among other things, but I doubt they'd help with my first home, whenever that is. I wouldn't really want them to, either, because that's my responsibility for sure. Do you like playing video games? If so, what do you usually play? I love video games, and horror is absolutely my favorite genre. I also love fantasy games though with deep stories. I've never been the best at playing super long games, like Final Fantasy games, even if I'm seriously invested in the story, though. I burn out. Have you ever sewn a garment? No. Are there any plants in the room you’re in? No. I don't bother with plants. What’s your highest level of education? Some college. What’s the most important thing in any kind of relationship? Proper communication, probably. If you wear lipstick, what’s your favourite colour to wear? I only really put on lipstick to occasionally take a picture, and it's pretty much always black. Is your style feminine, masculine or somewhere in the middle? Somewhere in the middle, I guess? Are there a lot of dragonflies around your house? I've never seen one around this house, and I doubt I ever will because it's too urban. When we lived in the woods, however, I saw them a lot. Of all the Disney couples, which one would you say is your favorite? Kovu and Kiara came to my mind first. Do you think it is cute/funny or disgraceful when a child swears? It's shocking, more than anything. You don't expect it. I don't believe it should be encouraged, but only because children just don't know when swearing really isn't appropriate. If/when you have a baby, how do you think you would want to decorate its room? I don't want kids, but I'll entertain the question and assume this is before the child is born and develops interests. Whether it's a boy or a girl, I'd probably go with a cutesy animal theme. Would you more likely buy a shirt with a picture of Mickey/Minnie Mouse, a Winnie the Pooh character, Snoopy, Hello Kitty, or Tweety Bird on it? None, honestly. Perhaps like, a gothic Hello Kitty. Of all the states you have been to, which one did you have the best experiences? Putting aside the AWFUL heat and humidity, I probably had the best time in Florida. I loved all the palm trees, seeing so many lizards on my grandma's patio, and going to Disney World was a blast. I liked that swimming pools were always warm, too. Have you ever had a crush on someone “too young” for you? No. Do you regret losing your virginity to who you lost it to? No. I was madly in love with him, so no regrets on that. If your boyfriend ever hit you, would you dump him? HA, BYYYYEEEEEEEEE MOTHERFUCKER. ZERO hesitation. Did the one person who hurt you most in your life apologize? He did, but I honestly don't know if he meant it. Is there anything you want to say to someone? It'll probably go unsaid for the rest of my life. If they were to televise a live execution, would you watch it? Yikes, hard pass. If you could be the president of the USA, would you be willing to do it? Noooo thank you. Did you wake up in the middle of the night? I always do. Does your animal sleep with you? My cat does. Venus obviously sleeps in her terrarium, but she is in my room. Last color you dyed your hair? Red. Will you keep your last name when you get married? Very unlikely. I don't like my last name. What are you looking forward to? Hearing back again from the woman whose wedding I shot literally two years ago. I thought she ghosted me, but she messaged me the other day about seeing the pictures again and going through them to actually buy some. I don't know why the hell it took her two years, but whatever, I guess? I spent two whole hours resizing the files and re-adding the preview watermark (I deleted the OneDrive folder for space forever ago, but I have the files still), so I hate to sound like an ass, but she better buy something. Between sweating my ass off on location when I shot the wedding, editing those 100+ pictures two years ago, and now re-doing the previews, I have invested so much goddamn time into them that yeah, I think I have the right to be pretty damn salty if I don't hear back from her again. If your significant other cut sex out of your relationship for any reason, what would you do? It'd be whatever. I mean sure, that sort of intimacy is a very special part of serious romantic relationships to me, but I can live without it pretty easily. What was the last thing you said out loud? "Thank you for dinner" to my mom. She brought home Hardee's. Who are your godparents? I don't believe I have any. Do you like Gushers? omggggg yes Can you touch your nose with your tongue? No. Is there a particular sport you follow on a regular basis? Nope. Are you waiting for something to arrive in the mail? No. Think of the last film you watched. Who was your favourite character? Uhhhh what was it... The Shining, I think? I didn't really develop a favorite. Do you have a friend whose name starts with ‘L’? Describe him/her. Lisa. <3 She's one of my WoW friends. She'll talk your ear off, but I don't really mind. She is SO sweet and caring for other people and loves to cook. She recently had triplets, and seeing as she had a son only months before accidentally getting pregnant with the triplets, she's obviously been MEGA busy so we haven't talked much lately. When you’re being kissed do you like it when they hold your face? Yeah, but not too early on. Doing that has a promise of seriousness and passion in it to me, and it would probably weird me out if that happened too soon. Last thing that made you cry? My health. Would you ever consider getting a piercing in your septum? Nah. I don't think it would look good on me. Do you enjoy being outdoors? If it's cool outside and I have a place to sit when I want to, yeah. Do people tell you that you have an accent? Only sometimes. It's definitely not as bad as your average Southerner, though. Do you enjoy watching fireworks on the 4th of July? Ha, what nice timing. I think they're very pretty, but I believe I went over in a recent survey how I don't encourage their usage in consideration of veterans with PTSD as well as being conscious of animals and the absolute terror it can cause for them. What’re some unspeakable subjects for you? So my sister is a children's social worker, and she shares a LOT of stories with Mom (and me, if I'm present) that I can't listen to. The ones that involve pedophilia and/or rape, especially from the child's very own parent(s), I just cannot listen to. Period. It's so fucking repulsive and just unimaginable to me how even a monster of a human can commit something THAT goddamn vile. What’s your opinion of root beer? I'm not a big fan. I mean I can tolerate drinking some of it, but I don't really *enjoy* it. Have you ever seen The Breakfast Club, and what’s your opinion of it? I have, and I didn't get the appeal at all. Did you have a Furby when you were younger? Oh god, I did. Those things are so creepy. If you had a baby boy, what would you name him? Damien, most likely.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''the ordinary world'' by the hit house

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rogue-hammer · 4 years ago

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ENTRY #2: ELDAR (PART 1)

“I watched the Forging of the Widow Makers, the 12 swords of Kaine, I watched as one was stolen and hidden far away.”

Eldar. The ancient Race, one time masters of the Galaxy and Seers without equal.

ELVES IN SPACE! SPACE….Space….space…

Believe it or not there is quite the history to this race outside of the typical hum drum of being the most powerful psykers, or, dumbasses who gave birth to Slaanesh. The history of the Eldar and their varied kin goes all the way back to Rogue Trader, and their lore has seen many an interesting tale told. The question is, do you have what it takes to make something out of it all?

Will you follow the Path of Asuryani?

Become a Exodite?

Mayhap an Outcast?

Or have you followed the path of Damnation?

#1 Study the history and model scope of the Eldar

As much as I love poking fun at any Knife ear, and their fans, I admit to a love of how otherworldly GW have made the Eldar over the years.

Going all the way back to the RT era, when the eldar where mostly but Corsairs and Enigmatic Xenos who seemed to materialize from the ether and sow discord for some unknowable reason, to the Golden Era of GW where these space elves where given a giant and truly inspiring background of triumph, a fall, loss, and desperate measures taken to keep their now dying race alive in the face of a hostile Galaxy.

For this reason I suggest to anyone interested in Eldar as a faction, to go back in time and visit some old books and codexes, as well as the classical ranges of minis.

Eldar once looked the part of eerie and almost frightening Alien creatures from a time before man crawled forth from his birthworld.

#2 Throw out the meta

First things first. Many of us probably grew up knowing the Eldar in their Post 2nd ed form. From 3rd ed’s chopped down Codex, to the easily abused expansion, and finally culminating in the 4th/5th ed incarnation of what has basically been the Eldar mold in modern times.

Hordes of Aspect warriors, spam grav tanks, spam Wraith-units, Spam Psykers and yes now a days, Spam Wraith Knights.

Or if you lean to the dark side, ummm Spam Raiders. Yeah just, Spam Raiders.

To put it blunt, Eldar meta is probably the most boring of all git-tastic play styles in the game of 40k, challenged perhaps only by Tau.

Throw it out. Read the lore. Apply it.

Eldar don’t have Hordes of ravening Aspect warriors to send in waves at their opponents.

Raiders are cool, if you can afford to have them and risk losing them in a raid. And your not likely to toss your most veteran Kalabite warriors into an attritional grind against Mon’kei gaurdsmen.

Wraith constructs are a nigh unthinkable resource to ever waste, and oh yeah did we mention not every fucking Eldar Force takes an Avatar of Khaine as it requires a heavy cost in order to even summon one of those things?

The Aldaeri have an interesting and sophisticated way of waging war, and they have highly advanced tech and powers in order to over come their foes, even if your actually trying to put some theme into it.

Lets discuss some interesting ways to look at your Eldar, seperating them into the 2 official factions, as well as ways to whip up an Exodite army or Corsair force.

#3 Craftworld Eldar.

Craftworld eldar are the main stay of the Aldaeri race, and the one lots of people tend to flock to when it comes time to game. And why not? Aspect warriors? Wraith Constructs? Tons of psykers and Autarchs? Whats not to like?

So how does one go about making a CW Eldar army worthy of a true hobbiest?

First things first, find a theme that digs deep into the lore. Are you;

-A Craftworld Defense force, using the might of your titanic space fairing world’s militia forces to fight off attackers. Squads of Guardians/Storm Guardians, backed by mobile weapons platforms and War Walkers. Your troops sailing into combat aboard Wave serpents and Viper Attack craft, all under the covering fire of punishing Heavy weapons platforms? Remember that all Eldar serve in the defense of their CW, and guardian and basic military based tech in an Eldar army is still some of the best around ( The best in certain editions).

-A Specialized Craftworld force, highly trained in a certain area of combat? Crack open the old 3rd ed Codex Craftworlds sup. And find some excellent ways to theme an army based off the major worlds, or perhaps mix and match certain styles in order to create your own world, with a unique color scheme, heraldry and history streching back to the fall, or even farther. House rule in the various advantages and limits of the old CW sup. And enjoy playing with the different styles of balance. (Just do your friends a solid, don’t abuse it.)

-A Doomed host heading into the Eye of Terror? Many CW Eldar have made the perilous if not downright suicidal journey into the Eye. Within that hellish realm, the Crone Worlds lay, the ancient now consumed home worlds of the eldar. Within them are many secrets, Spirit stones and other relics the Eldar greatly desire to have returned to them. Is your army such a quest? A brave Warrior Autarch, or Visionary Farseer having gathered those warriors of the Aspect temples to fight through the horrors of Chaos and retrieve something of unimaginable value?

-The Fist of Asuryani mayhap? The biggest and most powerful weapons the Eldar can bring to bear, hammering their opponents into submission by sheer might of their advanced fire power? Fire Dragons and Dark Reapers scorching the earth and slagging enemy armor, while Prism tanks and War Walkers streak and sprint ahead unleashing salvos of lance and Shuriken firepower into the enemy ranks. Batteries of Heavy Platforms annihilating units from a distance all the while the ground infantry providing cover support to your valuable aspect squads.

-Perhaps the Quick Death is all you need. After all what is more fast and fleet than the Eldar? Eldar on fast moving grav vehicles of course! Jetbikes and Vipers, Falcon tanks combined with the Shining Spear Cavalry and swift Swooping Hawk and Shadow Specter Aspect warriors to run circles about your slower more primitive opponents, cutting and blasting them to pieces before they have a chance to react.

-Maybe you watched Predator one too many times and have a thing for Stalking and killing your enemy from the Shadows or from unexpected angles. The hidden strike is a component suited to the crafty Eldar race, able to hit opponents with Striking Scorpions and teleporting Warp Spiders. Speedy hard to hit Harlequins and deep striking Autarchs and Hawks can be used to to tie down valuable enemy units while Rangers pick off targets of value from the safety of range and cover.

However you manage it, always remember that the eldar war machine is a finely crafted tool, with all units having a value within the force, not just the big OP units that so many others enjoy spamming.

Choosing a backdrop for your army is an easy way to find what units to select for thematic purposes, from Militia, to Seer guardians, Maiden World security forces to simple insertion armies meant to retrieve something stolen by lesser races or eliminate a target of future threat seen by the visions of the seer councils or Lost Wraith Engines on a distant barren world, awakened by a roaming warlock and his followers. Any unit in your army can become a core idea for your force’s history and reason for fighting. Thats the beauty of an army whose whole design is one of unique characteristics and fighting styles.

#4 DARK ELDAR

The Dark Kin, The Damned Path, The Drukari.

Dark Eldar are certainly a far cry from their CW kin, yet they have lost none of the potency and ancient power of their race, and indeed are far more arrogant and vicious.

However, different as though they may be, finding a unique concept in the Dark Eldar may come with a bit of a challenge.

In the earliest days of 40k, the Eldar where a unified faction, and in so much where a bit of a melting pot of all of what we see today across their various sub armies. The Dark Eldar seem to have been born out of GW’s need to mirror the High/Dark Elf style of WHF, and so sliced away the more destructive and often times treacherous and debased acts of the RT-2nd ed Eldar and formed a faction that, while having its own unique character is a bit on the smaller and often mashed together side. But there is unpicked fruit in the thorn covered garden of ideas for Dark Eldar. Lets have a look at ways you can theme and structure your own Kabal, Coven or Cult, or an unholy alliance of the three.

-A new Kabal rises: An excellent theme often over looked by most players is the concept of a new and young Kabal, lead by an aspiring Archon, only just starting to take his/her place in the dark city. This lends an interesting way to re-model an army and veer away from the typical spam of Elite warrior units and raider craft and focus more on the unique character of each unit. Basic Warriors making up the core of your force, backed up by the toughened meat shields of Wracks, sent into battle by a Haemonculus that has attached himself to this rising star. Meanwhile your Archon sits secure in his own personal Raider the only one at first in the army, directing the flow of battle as he sends in payed off Street gangs of Hellion riders and Scourges to do the work he himself would not dare put himself at risk for, waiting until the enemy is bruised and bloody before descending down from his craft to feast on the pain, guarded by alien mercenaries kept for ease of their greed and less ambitious minds.

-Mayhap you enjoy the idea of just going full gang? An entire force of wild eyed crazed Reavers, Hellions and Scourges mounting up on wings and craft, screeching across real space in thuggish raids to secure flesh and power to rise about the lower scum of the city streets. The various elements banding together for mutual greater gain before fighting over their spoils giving rise to powerful Leaders that take the street alliance higher and higher into the spires of the Dark City.

-If lowly gangs and young archons don’t suit, then perhaps Highborn power and elite warrior code is more the poison of choice. Few can match the ferocity and skill with a blade that the dark kin possess. An army that worships the blade, made of Incubi, Veteran Wyches, Succubus’ and maybe even a powerful Archon, much a Swordsmen in their own right as any proud member of the Incubi Temple. Holding to a code of seeking out the greatest challenge to sharpen their blades against, engaging enemies head on with raider and Venom craft to quickly close and slaughter their way to infamy and higher praise in the ranks, shunning the pathetic court intrigue and power plays of the other Kabals and cults, seeking only gain and perfection through bloody handed combat and death. A good alternative to the often typical Wych cult raid.

-Or the More Esoteric route? Haemonculus covens are all well and good, but do even these twisted flesh shapers come close to delving into the darkness that lies within the heart of the dark city? From the depths may rise an even more infernal and mysterious force for you to command. Born of the Beast masters who bend the creatures of the warp to their will, and the dreaded Mandrakes, sinister daemonic dark eldar who creep from the shadows and snatch their victims away. Truly an army lead by a Coven leader, so immersed in the dark arts of arcane science and flesh would be a terrible enemy to all sane life. Unleashing webway portals in the hearts of peaceful worlds, or worse, the middle of crowded hive cities for the vile things of the dark kin to reap bloody carnage on, dragging victims back to the benighted realm for sacrifice and experimentation too horrible to consider.

-Take to the air perhaps and rule the skies above worlds who fear the dread shadow of your lightening speed craft as it passes over. An army made of Raider, Ravager and Fighter/bomber craft, even it’s troops never setting foot on the ground except to reek carnage in it’s aftermath, once all has been pulverized by shockwaves of horrifying munitions and bombing runs, the enemy position reduced to smoking craters of gore and blinded wreck. Their ears ringing with the echoing screech of your craft’s engines as they sore across the grim skies.

-Or maybe the final and most deadly of all weapons. Fear. Does your army not even dine to soil its hands in the proud defenses of your enemies? Do they instead send forth the most hideous and perverse works of the dark kin to shatter the mind, and break the soul before the body is even touched? Floating Talos and Chronos pain engines, their sanity blasting bodies shrouded by the dark wings of Shrikes and raider craft filled with wracks and beastial creatures ready to be unleashed once the damage is done. Medusae and other strange contraptions born of the Dark Eldar’s crazed intellect striding alongside Archons wielding the most horrifying weapons to inflict the worst possible trauma on a foe.

To quote the 3rd ed. Dark Eldar Book. The Dark Eldar are not nice. Not nice at all.

When considering the theme and characteristic of your army, not unlike your CW Eldar, ask yourself, what is the history of each unit on the table? Then consider what perversity and malign goals have brought them forth. Then, multiply that by something ten times worse. Are even a thousand Imperial souls merely an appetizer for your Archon who has fallen to such depths of need he must draw out even the most simple act of pain infliction to its most perfected measure?

Does your haemonculous make it a private goal to break and torture Astartes? His ambition to see the very limits the super enhanced minds and psychologies that a Space marine have can endure? Do they prefer the sweet meat of psykers, or the flesh of their more noble kin? Nothing, and I mean NOTHING, is bellow a Dark Eldar and their arrogant quest for self sustaining torture and arrogant aggrandizement.

To be continued in PART 2 (Exodites and Corsairs)

#warhammer 40k #warhammer #eldar #eldari #dark eldar #drukari #xenos #aliens #lore #background #gaming #insperation #hobby #miniatures #a word in your ear

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shinneth · 5 years ago

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what is your absolute favorite ship? How did you start shipping Stevidot? And rant about any ship you feel like, good or bad? :))

… you fool

OH GOD ALL-TIME FAVORITE SHIP YOU SAY. YOU KNOW DAMN WELL I CAN’T CHOOSE ONE.

(it’d probably be Stevidot anyway; objectively I’ve done more for it than anything else I ever shipped in my life and it’s absolutely precious both in platonic and romantic forms)

BUT IN THE INTEREST OF FAIRNESS… and attempt to tone down redundancy, let’s see what other ships earned the “OTP” label from me!

I mean, I pretty much had to lowkey ship Mamoru Chiba x Ami Mizuno because Usagi/Mamoru is basically what Connverse wishes it could be as far as the Ultimate Ship goes. So at the height of my involvement in the fandom (you know, late 90s era), I was never brave enough to make anything for this ship. But the few times they get to interact in the classic anime is legit adorable stuff and I wish we could’ve had more of it.

Before Gem Ascension, before Travels of the Trifecta, my greatest multichaptered epic was a Digimon Tamers fic called By My Decision. I was a hardcore Digimon fan in my early teen years well before I ever got into Pokemon, in fact. And I shipped shitloads of pairings in Adventure and 02 - I can only imagine how many of those would be demonized by the new age fandom puritans of Tumblr nowadays. You can actually see literally everything I ever shipped on my FFN profile here.

But I didn’t really make anything for the first two seasons. Tamers was what really sparked my inspiration, because Takato and Jenrya… honestly, they’re just adorable together. They get to bond a lot, they’re really in touch with their feelings (contrasting to token girl Ruki who was a stiff hardass most of the time), and I often got the impression that Jenrya, unlike Takato, really doesn’t have any other friends.

So of course, I tormented these two on the regular in my story. I of course didn’t forget Juri (for I love her dearly); I was kinda trying a love triangle subversion with Takato angsting over loving both Jenrya and Juri… while Juri’s still got so much PTSD (story is 2 years post-series), shipping is hardly on her mind, and Jenrya’s outright in denial of his feelings for Takato to the point where it very literally screws him up and awakens some inner darkness of his own. I even had Jenrya and Juri bond, but it was pretty platonic stuff.

Still, this ship was way down on the totem pole at the height of Tamers’ fandom. Very frustrating. Takato/Ruki and Jenrya/Ruki were way more popular and I hated both of those ships something fierce. I love Ruki, but I just cringe at the idea of shipping her with either of her fellow leads. Then Jenrya/Ryo got something of a cult following that I couldn’t stand; admittedly I was jealous it was getting the representation that I felt Takato/Jenrya desperately needed more, and I also didn’t like Jenryo in its own right, anyway.

But yeah. Jenkato is a very underappreciated ship that I loved dearly and invested many of my teenage years into.

So, here’s a fun fact: While I played the classic games (my cousins had a Sega Genesis), the way I was mostly raised on Sonic was via the first two cartoon series and the Archie Comics version of the franchise. Archieverse was largely based on the SatAM cartoon; Amy Rose also didn’t exist in the show and it took about 25 issues for her to show up in the comic.

So I was big on Tails x Amy. For a long-ass time. And really, the ship was really only feasible in the Archie continuity. There, Tails is actually older than his usual depicted canon age and Amy is introduced to be around his age before she artificially aged herself with a magic ring so that she could later take on her Sonic Adventure design.

Before that… in these years, Sally was the most well-known love interest of Sonic in the west. So Sonic/Sally seemed like a lock (none of us knowing how Sega felt about that at the time) - and in retrospect I honestly believe it’s a far better Sonic ship than his more well-known modern alternatives.

So, because of Sally’s prominence, Amy was relegated to Sonic’s fangirl and her crush wasn’t really that big a deal. Honestly, that was for the best, as I by far found Amy way more tolerable in Archie’s incarnation than the majority of her other canon contemporaries (Sonic the Comic Amy Rose is more of a competent badass, though).

Tails and Amy had some good banter in Archieverse and the few times they were allowed time to do stuff together as a duo, they were very cute and endearing and I loved them.

Tails also had a lot more going on in terms of character development and backstory in Archieverse. Like, a lot more going on. He even had a “Chosen One” deal that sadly didn’t have a very good payoff, but. It’s more than what they really do with Tails in any other continuity.

Bear in mind, I started on these comics when I was eight or nine years old. Yet I followed this comic well into my late teens and even part of my early twenties, so you can tell Archieverse Sonic has shitloads of lore to it to have that long of an ongoing narrative.

After Sonic Adventure was released, then the Sonamy shipping started to explode. Amy was front-and-center in the spotlight, Sally became the obscure figure in the fandom, and it’s more-or-less stayed that way ever since.

But I was like “It’s okay! Tails and Amy are still tight in Archieverse! Sucks they have to adjust to Sega’s many changes but they’re still best buddies who’ll hopefully get married one day….”

Then 25 Years Later happened and for some goddamned stupid-ass reason, Tails was paired with Mina the Mongoose and I believe Amy was suspiciously never ever mentioned in the future timeline stories (as Sonic and Sally did become endgame in this little series).

Tails and Mina had little to no interaction, and Mina was largely there to be a potential Sonic love interest, and even after she moved on, she got together with another character and still didn’t interact with Tails.

I was sooooooo pissed off. Archieverse was my one hope for Tails/Amy becoming a thing and they ruined it for me. :(

I did get a consolation prize in Geoffrey St. John x Hershey becoming so canon they actually did marry. That’s another one I shipped ever since they first interacted years and years ago.

Of course, Hershey was then “killed off” - and was set for a major comeback, but Ken Penders put a stop to that and had them both erased from reality because fuck Ken Penders, I actually got a nice thing and you yanked it right out of my hands.

Genis Sage x Mithos Yggdrasill from Tales of Symphonia, a ship I hardcore loved enough to write about. Also a ship I think Tumblr would burn me at the stake for shipping at all, but you know what? Fuck Genis x Presea. It’s a boring-ass puppy love ship that in its own right should be lambasted similarly according to anti logic.

…. did I get sidetracked? I did? Pfff. Okay, let’s try and get to another question.

How I started shipping Stevidot?

Pretty simple story, really. I binged SU all the way up to Escapism (Change Your Mind hadn’t aired yet) last December/January. Also watched a looooot of Youtube clips. Most involving Peridot.

And inevitably, most involving Steven as well.

When I started getting into Peridot and SU as a whole enough to seek out fanfiction and whatnot, I didn’t really have any set shipping preferences at first. But when I made myself think about it… honestly, Stevidot just felt the most natural to me. I wanted to see stories about antics with those two specifically - I never liked Lapidot and Amedot did nothing for me ever. So Stevidot was like, pretty much the only thing I really focused on after a while.

Then I found A Gem Like You. And suddenly, INSPIRATION! I developed headcanons for Watcher’s fic, I started reading as much Stevidot as I could, and I was convinced it was the best pairing in the world and fucking hell I need to give it some representation after I noticed how relatively niche it was in the fandom.

And so, Stevidot consumed my soul for all time. I hope those clods are happy.

Rant about a ship, you say…

Good god, that really does need to be its own post. I have so much to say about various ships in general, I may need a bit to… uh, figure that out. Or throwing out some random ones I’d know about would help my focus, fff.

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themesozoicsperm · 5 years ago

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Another 5 underrated Halloweeny cartoons

Last year I make post like this about 5 very obscure spooky cartoons that needed more love. This time Im gonna talk about some cartoons that are quite known but could also be more popular. As I said last year, if like me, you wanna watch every cartoon in existence, here are some 5 underrated cartoon series to watch in halloween.

1) The Real Ghostbusters

This one was actually one of the most popular things back in the day, and to this day you may find some remains of its once huge fandom lurking on the Internet, but the idea of this post is to make new people interested in it, specially young ones.

As you may know, most 80s cartoons were practically long commercials for selling toys and this was no exception, HOWEVER, the execution here was so great you easily forget it. Sure it was quite cheesy at times and the script got worst past the first couple seasons (this because some of the best writers quit after some pretty terrible and misogynist decisions the producers made), but trust me, the main reason to watch this is because it was WACKY as hell. Some scenes really catch you off guard, you don’t expect a lot of things to happen, either because the writers were master minds... or they just didn’t care and wrote the first thing that came to their minds.

And then, there is also the ghost designs. Just look at those things in the image above! What the hell are those supposed to be? the ghost of aliens? They dont look like death people at all! There are so many good ideas in this show that are incredibly inspiring, specially if you like to design creatures like me. And the animation for its time was pretty cool too!

I would also recomend the sequel show, Extreme Ghostbusters, which was a pretty good follow-up and also counts with wacky creatures designed by the amazing Fil Barlow!

2) Aaahh!!! Real Monsters

Another one that was pretty popular back in the day, basically Nickelodeon’s gold mine along Rugrats and Ren & Stimpy. This one also had a lot of incredible monster designs so full of personality and an incredible voice cast that goes from Charlie Adler to Tim Curry himself. At least for me this show seriously did better work recreating “monsters as a kid would imagine” than Monsters Inc or Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends.

The Gromble specially steals the show with its Dr. Frank-N-Furter-like personality, every single of his lines could be your seniour quote. Really so much thought in these creatures, making multiple gags about their appearances or abilities, rather than just being randomly designed monsters.

Is kinda sad that modern shows wouldn’t try an artstyle like this, specially because people nowadays would label it as “too ugly”.

3) Garakuta or Mr. Stain on Junk Alley

A pretty obscure one! Shall have probaly saved it for another list? Anyway, a lot of you may know Popee the Perfomer, a creepy cartoon by Ryuji Masuda that usually makes into “topz 10 mast disturbenz car2ns lol”, and it was indeed pretty unsettling. But before that one Mr Masuda make other interesting cgi projects that really deserve some recognition too.

One of those was Garakuta (also know as Mr Stain on Junk Alley), and used to air on Adult Swim (at least where I live >:( ). It consisted in short 10-minute episodes about a hobbo living an alley full of garbage as well as a lot of creepy crawlers. It may wasn’t really “halloweeny” or “spooky”, but at least half of the episodes revolved around scary stuff and creatures, but somehow always fnishing in a funny gag or almost ghilbi-like tear jerking ending. The uncanny 2000s cgi just adds to the creepy factor, aswell as being a silent show with no dialogue at all adds to the “classic fairy tale” feel.

I do actually consider this one an anime since is totally japanese ^^.

4) Making Fiends

Oh god! one of the saddest ones! And not because of the show itself but because of the story of its production. Basically, this one started as a series of internet shorts by Amy Winfrey on early 2000s, you know, the time for internet stuff like this (ie: Salad Fingers). Nickelodeon noticed it was kinda popular so decided to buy the rights to young and inexperienced Amy and make a full series. It sadly didn’t do well enough, and as is law on Nick: if its not a inmediate sucess... them cancel it and replace it for more crappy sitcoms or moar Spongebob. Poor Amy was left alone with no work and not being able to make more Making Fiends on Internet since the rights didn’t belonged to her anymore.

The premise is basically what the title or theme song tells you: a Mandy-like girl called Vendetta has a whole city scared under her control, she has the ability to make creatures that follow her orders and like to terrorize the citizens, but then another girl called Charlotte came, with a totally opposite personality to Vendetta she tries to be everybody’s friend, and of course, worlds collide! Unlike other shows of this kind, Charlotte doesn’t try to make Vendetta a “good” person, she is just being herself while Vendetta is also being herself, 2 different queens wanting to rule their world in 2 different ways.

At least the show kinda generated a little cult following with time!

5) Warau Salesman

I already talked about one anime here so lets talk about another! Literally meaning “The Laughing Salesman”, this show got a little more popular this year after some review on youtube came sometime ago. However, IT CAN BE MORE POPULAR RIGHT!???

As practically every other show on the list, this one is also episodic, which is kinda weird for an anime, isn’t it? It just doesn’t tell a continuous story, is more like... gotta quote that one review... The Twilight Zone, every episode we know about some random person who wants something in life, till sometime its complaints are heard by this humble gentleman called Moguro Fukuzou, who promises to solve all his/her problems free of charge!!! Just... do exactly what he says, really...

We really never know what’s the deal with this guy, the main attraction, the show itself, is he a demon? just a horrible person? what are his ambitions? is he actually evil or just like to do awful pranks?

This show actually actually got a decent remake recently! but didn’t do good since an anime that is not about school teenagers with superpowers is not profitable these days.

PS: this is one of those anime that I would actually consider “adult” since most of its episodes revolve the adult working life, alcoholism, money, taxes and how hard the life of the average japanese businessman is.

Let’s finish with a bonus of some specials mentions that also deserve a watch, may talk about some of these shows in the future!

Martin Mystery, The Drac Pac, Gravedale High, Mr Meaty (mostly gross and unsettling than spooky), Monster Farm, Toonsylvania, Hilda, Victor and Valentino, The Funky Phantom, Legend Quest, Creepy Crawlies (1987), Gegege no Kitaro and of course YOUR SUGGESTION HERE and the Moomins, yeah THE MOOMINS, because 1) is not really underrated, became pretty popular again this year after the new series premiered and 2) While most tumble talks about how the 90s show was pretty cute and how gay Snufka and Moo-man were and all that...

the show itself wasn’t always cute...

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sunflower-stella · 4 years ago

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For the princess asks,,, all of them

!!! You!!! Are The! Best!!!

*rubs hands together enthusiastically* Let’s Go!!!

Belle: Why is your favourite book your favourite?

What a big one to start with! My favourite book is my favourite because it feels like a fire inside my heart. It reminds me how every person is living their lives in a deeply complex world, just like mine. It reminds me what a responsibility we have to support and understand each other. It inspires me and makes me hopeful that if we support each other individually, a better future is possible no matter how many times the big things go wrong. (My favourite book is Les Miserables, by Victor Hugo)

Ariel: Favourite mythical creature?

I usually say ‘gods and goddesses’ to this question, because it’s so cool to see how humans create humanoid representations of power and ideals? To what extent are they human, to what extent are they inhuman or more-than-human, and how do those things intersect? Myths are just so COOL!

Tiana: What’s your dream job?

Oh, my dream job would be to establish an alternative school system that emphasizes independent and different kinds of learning!

Snow White: Name the oldest book or film you like.

Book? Uhhh, I read a lot of old books.The oldest?? The Canterbury Tales is pretty good, I loved the first half of Beowulf, the Bible has some pretty interesting stories, Ovid told some really good myths... My oldest favourite book is probably The Canterbury Tales. I’m not super into medieval-era stuff, but Chaucer really makes me cackle. (As far as old films go, I’m a Charlie Chaplin fanatic.)

Cinderella: What’s the most unusual item of clothing or accessory you own?

I own a couple medieval-style tunics and corsets from an incredible shop in Quebec City. I also regularly wear devil horns with punk outfits. I have a pair of pointy anime sunglasses for Reasons. I used to have a pair of armbands with custom knife-sheaths inside them. I really like unusual accessories!

Aurora: Describe your favourite colour without using its name.

It’s a void. It’s absolute simplicity. It allows your eyes to rest, to take a break from all the loudness of the world. It’s welcoming, and embracing, and it’s an empty space into which you can project entire worlds. It allows every other colour to look better when placed against it. It’s original, and beautiful, and perfect.

Merida: What is your favourite hobby?

Oh, writing for sure! I love stories that other people tell, and I love being able to tell stories. It all feels so magical, creating and manipulating worlds.

Pocahontas: Do you enjoy learning about history?

Uhhh, I enjoy hearing and telling stories about history! When they’re personal I can really connect to them, when they’re clearly from someone’s perspective. History that pretends to be subjective is both threatening and boring to me. Also, history makes me sad a lot so I like to learn about it in small doses!

Jasmine: If you could wish for one thing, what would it be?

Hhhhhhh god I don’t know. A functional government system. A functional economics system. World peace, on an international and interpersonal level. Less ants in my kitchen.

Elsa: Summer or Winter?

Spring is my favourite season, but I’d choose summer if I had to go with extremes! I’m very much a ‘prefer to be too hot’ kind of person.

Kida: Are you adventurous?

To an extent! My brain rather over-reacts to certain stimulus (such as sleep deprivation, insect noises, crowds, and unfamiliar food), so that does limit my adventuring quite a bit, unfortunately! That said, I do love to explore new places, to seek out secrets in the woods, and to boldly go where no one has gone before! I just need long periods of recharge time in my comfort zone before I’m ready for another adventure!

Giselle: What fictional world would you love to live in?

If I could choose an adventure to have, I would love to travel with The Doctor. I’d also be very pleased to live in the Sandman universe, from the comics.

Megara: Is there anything you’d sell your soul for?

Same as my answer to Jasmine. Minus the ants in the kitchen, I don’t think that’s quite worth my soul.

Vanellope: What is your favourite type of candy?

Chocolate! I love mint chocolate, chocolate with peanut-butter, 70% chocolate, 90% chocolate, chocolate truffles, chocolate mousse, chocolate icing, chocolate-covered strawberries.... just EVERYTHING CHOCOLATE!

Moana: Do you enjoy the journey or the destination more?

Depends on the journey! Car rides are awesome, and planes are pretty cool. But buses are intolerable unless I have very good headphones. And walks are nice, but sometimes you get dizzy. So... yeah! Depends on how you’re getting there, but I do like travelling as a general rule.

Esmerelda: What’s your favourite part of your appearance?

My dad always said I have ‘Victorian heroine eyes’ and I’m quite fond of that idea! I have grey eyes with a bit of a blue tinge, and a fleck of yellow in one eye.

Eilonwy: Name an underappreciated film that you love.

I don’t really have a very non-mainstream taste in films! I tend towards action and classics, and even the ‘unusual’ films I like are still the big ones, like Wes Anderson films or cult classics. I guess I’ll just reveal that my favourite romcom is ‘The Holiday’ and I watch it every year. It might be cheesy and pretty bad, but it sure as heck makes me happy every time I see it.

(some previous answers/ reblog the questions!)

Whoo this took like forty minutes to type out! Thank you for such a pleasant break from my schoolwork! Back to it!

#big zoe babbles #here is just All About My Brain if you were interested #asks #this was The Best to do

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