#is just not replaceable by sitting on your couch and watching it with mono tv speakers

[vanishingmoments]

the way theaters are dying because people think "oh I'll just catch it later on one of 700 streaming services" is really tragic. I've seen four movies in theaters this year and with one exception I can say that the experience of seeing them again on my TV will never be anywhere near as complete of an experience.

[som3thingcr3ative]

Bad days (warren worthington x reader)

When you have a bad day, warren is there to help you. Written because i have mono (probably), can't find a replacement for work tomorrow, (a twelve hour day of physical labor) broke a glass bottle of lemonade ALL over the kitchen, feel like shit, still havent had dinner, need sleep... You get it. Okay. Warren worthington x reader Original fic, please do not steal/copy my work. Ive got enough shit to deal with. Warnings: bad day. Nudity (barely even mentioned). Blood. “Babe?” Warren’s voice calls, sounding worried. He hears a muffled whimper and runs toward the sound, finding you on the ground, surrounded by broken glass, water and blood. “What happened?” His shoes are still on, so he steps over the glass and crouches by your side, wings balancing his weight. “I- I’m just done, War,” you cry, looking up at the angel through tear-blurred eyes. “I’ve worked myself sick at my new job, I’m physically exhausted, my head and stomach hurt, I don’t have the energy for another twelve hour shift tomorrow but everyone else is busy doing other things and-” He cuts you off when his arms (that had wrapped around you as you talked) tighten and draw you to his chest. Warren stands up, cradling you against him like a baby, his boots crunching on the glass shards as he heads toward the bathroom. “Kitten,” Warren says, his voice sending calm waves through you at the name. It means he’s taking control, and it means you must obey. “I’m going to give you a bath and a massage. You’re going to give me your phone and let me sort tomorrow out with your boss, and then we’re going to get take-out and watch a movie. Okay?” “But what about the glass I dropped- and-” You don’t know why you’re protesting when all you want to do is surrender yourself to sleep- to Warren, to a bath and a massage, but you do. It’s automatic, and you are powerless to stop it. “I’ll take care of it.” “War-” “Let me take care of you, Kitten.” You fall silent as he sets you on the soft bath mat, stripping you of your soaked clothes, picking pieces of glass out of your palms and legs. “Okay,” you manage, sitting there naked as he starts the water and lets the tub fill up. Warren strips too, and even though you’ve seen him like this so many times, you still blush. He smiles gently at you and turns to the cabinet, pulling out your special basket. A lavender bath bomb with a surprise ring inside, an unscented bath bomb that turns the water into a glittery galaxy, chamomile and lavender essential oils, bath salts, crimson and black candles. He turns on music to fill the background noise and deposits you in the tub, the water about halfway full. Your eyes close, basking in the warmth as he drops in the oils and bath bombs. Calming scents diffuse through the air as he lights the candles, setting them out in safe areas and turning off the lights. Soon enough, Warren turns off the water and slips in behind you, even though he despises getting his wings wet and hates the tight space. His fingers slip through your hair as you lean back against his muscular chest and he starts humming to the melody, knowing that you find comfort in the sound. “I love you, Warren.” You state, eyes gently closed, relaxing while his fingers work magic over your tense shoulders. “I love you too, Kitten.” He replies, kissing the crown of your head, kneading away the knots in your muscles. You remain quiet until he finishes. He climbs out of the tub, dries off and slips into sweatpants, leaving you to relax in the dark environment with flickering candlelight, warm water, and light music in the air. Twenty minutes later, he returns. You step out of the tub and he wraps you in a soft towel just out of the dryer. It nearly makes you purr. He smiles, gathering you against his chest and lifting you with ease, knowing that his attempts were working. Once you are both clean and dry, he lets you pick out a movie while he orders delivery and cleans up the bathroom. Soon enough, the two of you are comfy on the couch, you wrapped in a blanket and resting against your boyfriend, Warren with an arm slung lazily across your waist, his free hand tracing patterns on your shoulder. The food comes shortly. Warren gets up, and when he comes back, it’s with all of your favorite greasy comfort foods. Not long after you finish eating, Warren looks down to see you passed out. He pauses the movie and turns off the TV, gently slips out from under you and cleans up the rest of the mess. Then he carries you to bed, turns off your alarm (you have nothing to hide from him, so he knows your passcode and you know his,) and curls up next to you, draping a wing over you and snuggling closer. Warren knew that everyone had bad days. This just happened to be one of yours. And he would be there for you, just like he always was.