#its 3 am gnight

[shortkinglogan]

Why spend energy arguing about a fictional character when that energy can be better spent defending and arguing for real people?

Why worry about how someone writes a fictional character when there's people that write about real people and dehumanize and fetishize them in their works, and in real life?

It's ironic how often I see someone arguing that some head canon is trash, ends up insulting someone in a dehumanizing way, or jump to accusations, in the very same instance as trying to argue the fictional character is being dehumanized or misrepresented.

Don't be taking real shits on real people over imaginary shit on imaginary people!!

Getting deep into the x men fandom means seeing ships I don't agree with, so I don't interact, seeing posts that mischaraterizes one of the deepest charaters possible, so I don't interact, Seeing people actively say things that are blatantly wrong, so I don't interact.

Getting a large following is also kind of frustrating (Im not complaining I love you guys!) But I've had to block 2 people already today because they keep leaving rude replies to my comments on OTHER peoples posts or purposly come to my blog to tell me that how I view a charater is wrong. Had someone tell me that the stuff that happens in MY au is dumb because "that would never happen" like yeah bud. The writers at Marvel are too much of cowards for it to happen, hence why i'm here.

So my thing is... if im chosing not to interact with all of this- why is it still on my feed?

I feel like the more I ignore it the more I see and I do not wish to be the type to block someone simply because they make one post about a ship that personally isn't my cup of tea.

Also- I think Im starting to see the different sides of extremes, especially when it comes to one specifc charater.

Logan.

I have seen dozens of lovely stories, lovely rants, lovely head canons about this man-

But something that feels weird (to me at least) is people who are 45+ yelling at people who aren't even 18 that their story/headcanons are trash because they've "been enjoying Logan for 40+ years" as if this gives them any right to tell a 17 year old that they shouldnt write a charater how they see them.

It's also weird to me that there seems to be two sides.

Logan IS an animal and that's perfectly okay.

Or

Logan ISN'T an animal, and everyone who headcanons him as animalistic is fetishizing his mutation and are insulting him.

I get not liking a certain trope, but sir, that person is young enough to be your child. You have to accept that we all grew up with different versions of each charater. I Personally didn't grow up with any and get the luxury of indulging in all sorts of media all at once- therefore getting to see him from multiple sides and pictures.

I completely understand if you grew up with the original series and are upset to see that kids are headcanoning your stone cold angst biker man as wearing bow clips and 'making biscuits' on a pillow while watching gilmore girl with his boyfriend, and wearing pink fluffy hello kitty pants and a tight shirt that says "Milk"

I completely understand if you grew up with the movies and see him as a sexy gruff hot buff man and you love to write lots and lots of steamy x reader about him.

I completely understand if you LIKE logan wearing hello kitty pants and don't agree with the idea of him being a dark edgelord, lone wolf charater.

Do you know what I don't understand? Fighting over a charater when different timelines have been canon since the 80s. The Time Variance Authority (TVA) first appeared in Thor #372 (October 1986) which means ALL of your logans are the correct logan. Just not all the same.

Do I think Wolverine Orgins Logan would wear pink hello kitty pants? Nah.

Do I know that Deadpool and wolverine Logan is a whole different universe then Orgins Logan? Yes.

That's why people tag different logans and different aus. So what is all the fuss about?? What happened to the more the merrier?

Theres so many different versions of comic book logan, too, so don't even go there.

Feel free to ask my personal opinions but as far as I stand I could never be foolish enough to seriously go into someone elses post and genuinely be upset at them for how they perceive a charater. I get second hand embaressment when ever I see ANYONE doing it.

Thanks for coming to my ted talk. I don't care if I lose followers for this. Let the door hit you on the way out. There aint no reason to be harrassing folks.

[spamsandsuch]

feeling

[raytorosaurus]

…what have tinhatters done to Millions

oh yk it hasn't been so bad recently but there used to be a day where you couldn't scroll ur dash without seeing jokes (among more serious theories) abt how millions is about (and directed at/a dig at) frank/frerard specifically. bums me out when ppl engage with frank and gerard's solo work through frerard goggles and settle for shallow out-of-context readings of certain lines/songs bc it's just...so reductive and deliberately obtuse yk? obvs all of gerard's lyrics are open for interpretation by design and when enough ppl choose to interpret them in a tinhatty way it starts being considered fact in some circles. there is so much more to engage with in this art...and millions definitely got the worst of that which is kinda sad bc it's such a vulnerable and meaningful song and is sort of the centrepiece of a lot of hesitant alien's themes about navigating fame and dehumanisation, success and expectation, martyrdom and survival. millions literally has a line that is, imo, a pretty explicit statement that continuing mcr would've killed him (the "wake up breathing" part), but to so many ppl all it is is "oooh the frank-getting-rejected-by-gerard song...so cold..."

like it's just kinda annoying to see ppl insist there's No Other Possible Interpretation of the "william it was really me" verse than a catty dig at frank when...hesitant alien is very intentionally an out-of-time britpop album and that is a smiths reference and britpop notoriously helped normalise musicians being seen as personalities, not just artists, by the media, with publicised and sensationalised fueds, fallings out, etc etc. gerard grew up listening to britpop and reading those interviews alone, then consciously emulated some of those ppl during his career, and in millions it's like he's looking at that from the other side of fame...etc etc i could go on. not saying this is the only interpretation either, just that there is so much context there (outside frerard fan theories) to consider and engage with and for a while so many ppl wouldn't acknowledge that haha

[katagawajr]

extremely unwell abt timkat again. goodnight… 🫶

[caruliaa]

literally why am always like. feeling so inhernetly inferior to everyone

[megumi-fm]

okay it's like 2:35am and my limbs are wary + brain is mush so I'm just gonna go to bed. I've completed like ¼th of the syllabus but luckily this test is at noon so I'll have time to go through the rest before that

ngl this was a weirdly fun exercise? my finals for these two subjects are on coming Friday, if I start prep early enough I can simply follow the same approach and also have a good time while I'm at it.

but for now ig I'll go rest. it's been several months since my last– late night prep + early morning exam and I'm really scared I'll oversleep if I'm awake any longer so. yeah.

goodnight besties <3

i have two tests tomorrow and the profs literally finished the syllabus like yesterday and these notes are absolute ass so this is me liveblogging my poor attempt to study aka a thread of my frustrated incoherent rambling peppered with lots of swearing in caps lock

[theclairvoyage]

Centrifugation: Chapter 10

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

An anonymous source discloses something that threatens to ruin your relationship with Joel.

Chapter Warnings: allusions to smut, ANGST!, anxiety, mentions of past traumatic event, adult language, kissing, fluff

WC: 4.2k

Divider by @plum98 <3

Tuesday, October 26th | 1505

Shaky hands reach up to unlock the door to your apartment, keys jingling with your movements.  Fuck.  Your hand falls to your side as you try to recollect yourself.  Eyes closed, you take a few deep breaths and straighten your spine.  Why am I nervous?  This is my goddamn apartment.

“Okay,” you say to nobody.  “It’s fine.  It’s just a door.”

Courage pools in your belly.  Taking one last deep breath, you unlock the door and push it open, eyes widening at your surroundings.  The place is spotless.  Keri stopped by your place to stock the fridge and clean up for you a couple days ago.  She must’ve either baked or sprayed some Febreze in here—it smells like cupcakes.  A smile forces its way on your face.

You set your purse on the kitchen island and gaze around.  Empty sink, full fridge and pantry, clean countertops.  Clean blankets thrown over the couch, new candles centered on the coffee table, remote on top of the TV.  There’s a small piece of paper on one of the candle lids.  You trod over to the couch and pick it up to read, grin creeping up your cheeks.

Hey, love.  I made your favorite enchiladas and stocked the fridge full of your favorite goodies.  Laundry is done and folded.  There’s some special liquid in the fridge, too—but don’t take it when you’re on your meds!! 😉 Call me if you need anything.

-Ker

Curling the note up to your chest, you walk over to the fridge and open the door.  Keri was right—she got everything you like.  Cheese, salami, fruit, wine, cookie dough, orange juice, and two giant containers of half and half.  A large, covered baking dish is calling your name.

Two enchiladas and what feels like half a pound of cookie dough later, you turn on the TV and scroll through Hulu until you find your favorite comfort show.  It starts halfway through the last episode you played.

“Picture it: Sicily, 1922…” Sophia Petrillo’s loud, Brooklyn-accented voice speaks to you.  You smile and sink into the couch, whipping your phone out to check your messages.

Joel: Have a great night, baby.  Sweet dreams.

You send him a picture of your blanket-clad body curled into the couch, along with a witty caption.  Missing your couch already.  He replies after a few beats.

Joel: Gorgeous as ever.  I’m missing more than that, though.  Gnight baby.  See you tomorrow.

You: Night, Joel. 🥰

Happy to be home and tired of binging your show, you decide it’s time to rinse off the day with some hot water and get ready for bed.  After hopping out of the shower and changing your bandages, you pick your phone up from the bathroom counter and stare at the screen.

Three messages from an unknown number stare back at you.  The area code is unfamiliar to you.  The fuck?  Your stomach flip flops like a fish on a dock as you shakily long press on one message to open it.

(XXX) XXX-XXXX: Better watch your man.

(XXX) XXX-XXXX: Sent 2 photos

Shock sucks the air out of your lungs.  You blink once, twice, three times to make sure this is what you’re really looking at.  Beads of sweat emerge from the pores on your forehead, and your hands tremble.  This is exactly how you felt after you left the hospital—panicky, lost, terrified.

The first picture is of Joel’s truck parked outside of a Motel 6, with someone in the passenger seat next to him.  It looks like a woman, but it’s too dim to make out the rest of her features.  The second picture is the same angle, but of Joel leaning near the woman’s ear, smile plastered on his face—and there’s no question that it’s him.  Salt and pepper beard, curved nose, those fucking brunette tendrils you adore so much.  He’s even wearing one of his green flannels that you’ve worn while he’s fucked you.  This photo is better lit, almost like headlights of a passing car flashed on as soon as it was snapped.  The woman’s face is—gorgeous.  She’s Latina, with beautiful caramel skin, long, shiny black hair cascading down her shoulders, bright red lips, piercing hazel eyes, and a low-cut top that shows some massive breasts stuffed in a pushup bra.

The phone slips out of your hand and lands on the bathroom tile with a thud.  Fuzziness clouds your vision, and your pulse is racing so fast there’s barely any time between heartbeats.  Confusion hazes in your mind, interrupted by a loud voice telling you to sit down before you pass out.  You plop on the toilet seat and pick up your phone.

Nausea pierces your stomach as you stare at the photos again.  Clamping your eyes shut, you lean back against the toilet and take some deep breaths, allowing reason to squeeze itself back into your head.

When were these taken?  Where?  Is this pre-Omaha Joel?  Is that girl his cousin?

His hair and beard look the same as they did yesterday—and the motel looks like a Motel 6 near the Denny’s on 84th and Center, posted up right by Interstate 80.  Though it could be somewhere else, maybe in Texas, you’re almost certain it’s Omaha.  Oak and maple trees line the back of the motel, with leaves of various shades of red, yellow, and orange—you don’t know enough about Texas to know if they have fall foliage like Nebraska does.  Maybe you don’t want to know.

Your heart feels like it stops beating altogether at the realization that this was taken very recently—maybe even today.

A tear drips down your burning cheek and lands on the screen of your phone, painting the woman’s face in rainbow pixels.  Somehow, she looks even more beautiful than before with your tears plastered on her perfect face.

Anger sears your insides and clutches your throat.  You ignored every little voice in your head that was telling you something wasn’t right, shoved it into the depths of your brain and tried to stay present, optimistic.  Joel had given you everything—took care of you, made you feel safe and loved, went out of his way to be there for you.  What was the fucking point of this shit?  He could have easily dropped you and carried on with his life.

Standing up from the toilet, you lean over the sink and splash some cold water on your face and neck, arms propped up on the bowl as you hunch over and continue to take deep breaths.

How am I gonna address this with him?  Send him the pictures with no context?  Screenshot the messages, including the number?

No, no, no—the latter would be too easy for him to explain.  You wanted him to squirm and roil like you are now.  Sure, you weren’t exactly a fucking couple, but you never expected him to do this.  Fuming, you save the pictures and pull up your messages with Joel.  You look at his contact picture in your phone—it’s one of him and you from your date at Village Pointe, when he’d watched you admire the flowers at one of the boutiques.  God, he’s fucking handsome, and he looks so happy.

Fuck that.  You send the pictures over to him and shut your phone off before stomping off to bed.

Wednesday, October 27th | 0712

Cheerful chirps of the American robins outside your window wake you.  You rub your eyes, quickly realizing that they’re sore—probably from all your sobbing the night prior. Dread fills you quickly as you recall the events from last night.

Shit. Your phone is off. Probably wasn’t the best idea, considering you’re still recovering from a traumatic event and people might worry if they can’t reach you.

Anxiety weighs your arm down as it reaches for your phone. You hold the power button and watch the screen light up with fast, shallow breaths.

15 missed calls.  10 from Joel, 2 from Sarah, and 3 from unknown numbers.  20-something messages, mostly from Joel.  Your heart skips a beat and your finger inches toward one of them to read it before stopping.

Nope.  You’re not giving up so easily.  He can squirm for a bit.  After all, he made a conscious choice to do this.  Another question burns the back of your brain, though.

Who took the pictures?

You open your messages and see that the unknown number that sent the 3 messages is the same one that texted you the pictures.  You open them, and your stomach falls to the floor as you read.

(XXX) XXX-XXXX: Oh, girl.  You sent him those?  Tsk tsk.

(XXX) XXX-XXXX: Now you’re giving him time to come up with an explanation??

(XXX) XXX-XXXX: If you can’t get rid of him after he did this, imagine what else you’ll let him get away with.

Lips tightened and jaw jutting angrily, you puff out a hot breath and feel anger bubble inside you as you type a response.

You: Who the fuck are you?  What is your problem?

They don’t miss a beat replying.

(XXX) XXX-XXXX: Someone you don’t want to fuck with.  Let it go now and you’ll get over it in no time.

A rough, defiant snarl rips through you as your fingers zip across the screen.

You: You’re so threatening that you have to send shit anonymously?  Grow the fuck up.

You: Fucking clown 🤡

The number doesn’t reply immediately.  You sit up in bed, hot tears starting to brew behind your eyelids.  And your head is pounding—likely from the crying, which has no doubt left you dehydrated.  You slowly stand up and wait for the stars to fade from your vision before padding into the kitchen.

As you brew a strong pot of coffee, your phone rings.  You close your eyes, inhale deeply, and flatten your palms on the countertop to ground yourself.  The cold material heats up underneath your fingertips, leaving condensation in their wake.

You pick up the phone, slowly.  It’s Joel.  The air in your chest halts.  Do you answer, or continue ignoring him?  Part of you wants so badly to hear his deep voice, hear him tell you this was all a big mistake, and the photos are AI.

But you know that’s not the case.  You accept the call and wait a beat before speaking, lips sucked into your mouth.

“Baby, you there?” His voice is frantic, and you can hear him pacing in what you guess is his kitchen.  It’s early, and he’s probably making coffee of his own.

“Why are you calling me?” Your voice is frigid, distant, setting the stone blocks of the wall you’re placing between him and you.

He sighs heavily, footsteps echoing in the background.

“Darlin’, it’s not what you think, I—,” he groans, exasperated.  You interrupt him before he can finish.

“I’m sure you can, you’ve had plenty of time to think about it,” you snarl, voice scathing.  Joel is silent for a moment, shocked at the anger in your voice.  He’s never seen or heard you like this.  He chooses his next words carefully.

“Please, let me see you and we can talk about this,” he pleads, agonized.  Part of you wants to smile, making him grovel at your feet—the other part is heartbroken, the photos plastered in your mind permanently.

“I really don’t want to talk to you after what I saw.  I-I trusted you, and you had every opportunity to cut things off with me… Jesus, Joel, we weren’t even a couple!” you spit, voice transforming from strong and firm, to shaky and choked.  Your fists are clenched so hard, your knuckles are bone white, and salty tears roll down your cheeks.

“Baby, you don’t realize h—,” he starts, but you cut him off again.

“Don’t fucking call me that,” you spit through gritted teeth.

“Please, please, just lemme explain and it’ll all make sense,” he cries, almost whimpering.  Frustrated, you hold a deep breath in your ribcage and pinch the bridge of your nose as you contemplate a response.

“I’ve seen everything I need to see,” you say, surprisingly calmly.  “You made me look and feel so… so fucking stupid.  I don’t even know who sent me the fucking pictures and now they’re threatening me, I j—,” you continue, and this time Joel cuts you off.

“Threatening you?” he hisses.  Your eyes roll so hard it hurts.

“Gimme a fucking break, Joel.  You’re pissed you got caught—you don’t give a fuck about me,” you sear, irritated.  Part of you knows that you’re not being entirely truthful—you know that he does care.  But you want it to sting, and it does.  He inhales sharply.

“Now you know damn well that ain’t true, and that I lo—,” he stops himself, your stomach twisting at the realization of what he was about to say.  He clears his throat.

“I want you to be happy.  If that ain’t with me, then I have no choice but to let it be.  But if you wanna talk, I’ll be here.  I’m askin’ ya one more time to let me explain,” he chokes, the pain evident with each syllable.  He sounds like he did when he first came to the hospital after the stabbing—broken and worried.

You close your eyes for a moment and think about your life since you’ve met Joel.

Happy, exhilarating, euphoric, a whirlwind.

A new version of you—confident, glowing, sexy.  Now it all seems so abstract, utopian.

What’s the worst that could happen?  He explains, you don’t believe him, and you never see him again?  As much as you’d like to stick to that plan, you know once you’ll see him it’ll be over.

“Baby, you there?” he asks quietly, hesitantly, trying not to poke the bear.

“Yes, I’m here.  Thinking,” you reply, matching his volume.  “Fine.  We can meet up.  Tomorrow,” you offer, tone stern.  You need a day to think.

“Whenever y’want.  Just let me know and I’ll be there,” he says, voice like a warm hug.  It’s pissing you off, how easily he can melt you.  You give him a pinched mhm.  He sighs.

“D’y’need anything?  Bandages, food, anythin’?” he asks, kindness slicing your heart open.

“No.  Keri stocked my place while I was gone.  I’m good,” you reply coolly.

Shit, you don’t want to tell Keri—you can’t bear to rehash what you saw last night and break your heart all over again.

“I’m—m’sorry, baby.  You mean the world t’me,” he laments.  You pinch your eyelids shut, running a clammy hand through your hair.  He’s not making this easy.

“Do you realize how hard it is to believe that after seeing those fucking photos, Joel?  How do you think I feel whenever I think about them?” You sob, hands waving with each pained syllable that escapes your mouth.  He sniffles on the other end, but you continue.

“Seeing you close to that… that woman, who is clearly so much fucking better than me, that perfect fucking wo—,” he cuts you off.

“Nobody is better than you.  Nobody.  Get that through your head,” he says, voice angry.  You groan angrily as tears continue pricking your eyelids.

“What do you expect?  Like… I don’t understand what you thought I’d think.  Maybe you thought I’d never find out,” you mutter.

“Y’won’t believe me when I tell you what’s really goin’ on.  She’s not who y’think,” he sighs, and you can hear him hanging his head on the other line.  “I’ll tell y’everything tomorrow.”

Jaw ticking, you nod before realizing he can’t see you.  “Okay.”

“F’you need anything, y’know I’m here.  Bye, sweetheart.”

“Bye.”

Wednesday, October 27th | 1239

After the call with Joel, your crying and frustration exhausted you to the point that you fell asleep on the couch while watching TV.  The quote from the Golden Girls episode you watched struck a painful chord with you, sending you further into the abyss.

I don't want to talk about it. Oh, how could George betray me this way? Dammit, those wedding vows were sacred to me. Well, they must have been. I turned down hundreds, thousands of offers. Teachers, doctors, astronauts. I even said no to a journalist famous for his work on 60 Minutes. Now, if that's not fidelity, I don't know what is. Then I find out that the only man I ever loved cheated on me. On me! Oh, I could just die.

Blanche discovered her late husband had an affair that produced a child—but only when the adult child showed up at her doorstep.  It puts things in perspective for you.

One, you and Joel aren’t married—maybe this is a sign not to let it progress further.

But—you hated to admit to yourself that he was the only man you had ever loved.

Does the pain come with the territory, or is it an omen?

You roll off the couch, frustrated still but filled with a bolt of energy.  You needed to get out of here.  It’s not like you have work the next day, or anytime soon—somewhere far, far away was calling your name.

Fuck it.  You decided to head to Chadron early—your grandma’s house was ready for you and clearing your mind with some time at the rustic farmhouse sounded hypnagogic.  Thinking of the rolling hills, buttes, pine trees, and open skies filled you with tranquility.  Joel’s face sits in the back of your mind, beautiful brown eyes filled with love and adoration.  A wave of sadness engulfs you.

Joel would have to figure out fast if he really wanted this.

Having packed a decently sized suitcase in less than 30 minutes, you stuff it in your car and hop in the driver’s seat.  You quickly type a text to Keri asking her to check up on the place every few days before starting the car.  The gas tank was at half, and with you leaving later in the day, it was probably smart to fill up before starting the 7-hour drive.

You make a quick stop at a QT not too far from your apartment and fill up.  As you watch the numbers on the pump display tick, a sleek black truck pulls up to the pump next to yours.

Shit.

It’s Joel.

He steps out and saunters over to you.  It’s only been a day since you’ve seen him, but it feels like months.  His handsome face looks sullen, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes absent.  His frown lines have deepened, stubble grown out, some new gray hairs have erupted along his chin.

And then you see his eyes.  Despondent pools of dark chocolate, no traces of the golden flecks you’ve grown to love.  What pisses you off the most, though, is how much love pours out of them.  It’s so hard to be mad at him when you know that he loves you.

He stops at your side, and you turn away to stare at the numbers.  The nozzle clicks and the numbers freeze.  Ignoring him, you yank the nozzle out of your car and shove it back on the holder, fingers still gripping the handle.  His warm hand envelopes your forearm, rendering you motionless.  You can’t look at him.

“Sweetheart,” he says, tone of his velvet voice echoing the sullenness in his eyes.  He takes the pump from your hand and turns you toward him.

Tears pool in your eyes for the zillionth time the last 24 hours.  Your lip trembles, and you snap your eyes shut.  He cradles your face in his hands and tilts your head up to look at him.  Your eyes are still squeezed shut.

“Look at me,” he says your name gently, and the familiar scents of sandalwood and bourbon waft into your nostrils, relaxing you subconsciously.  Involuntarily, you inhale deeply and slowly open your eyes.  A single tear falls from the corner of your eye as you stare at him.

He winces at seeing you in pain—pain that he caused.  He leans in and kisses the tear on your cheek. Your gut feels like he reached in and twisted it.

“Where y’going, darlin’?” he says quietly, soothing your cheeks with his thumbs.  You can only imagine how this looks—the two of you wrapped in each other in the middle of a gas station, tears streaked down your cheeks and looking a hot mess.

“To Chadron,” you sniff.  At some point you grabbed his forearms, the familiar feeling of safety washing over you.

“So soon?  Baby,” he says, deep line etched into his forehead.  You reach up and smooth it with your thumb.  He closes his eyes, exhaling in relief at your touch.

“I needed to get away from here,” you say quietly and absentmindedly, distracted from smoothing his skin.  He grabs your hand and kisses it, featherlight, eyes locked on yours.  He opens your hand and leans his cheek into your palm.

“Let me come with you.  Please,” he pleads softly.  His eyes are melting you from the inside out.

“Not before you explain what the hell those pictures are… and who sent them,” you say, arching one eyebrow.  He sighs, long and heavy, glancing to his left as he shakes his head and rakes a calloused hand through his stubble. He huffs again before turning back to face you.

“S’my cousin, Valeria.  She left her abusive husband in Laredo and is stayin’ at that Motel 6 since that asshole cut her off.  I paid for her room f’the next few weeks while Tommy n’ I figure out somethin’.  I’m sure I was givin’ her a kiss on the cheek.  M’sorry I didn’t tell you—it was sudden, and she wanted me to keep it a secret,” he says with a loud swallow, Adam’s apple bobbing.  Your shoulders slump instantly. You feel like a fucking idiot.

“As f’who sent ‘em… no goddamn clue.  Pretty fuckin’ close to hiring a PI,” he grumbles, chest puffing out slightly. The knot that’s been tightening in your stomach the last day finally releases, relieving tension throughout your entire body. Your shoulders lift and fall as you take deep breaths, before tensing again as you realize you made a mountain out of a molehill.

Jesus.  You’re a complete asshole.  Of course, you assume the worst.  You’d be surprised if he still wanted you after this charade.

The tears flow before you can try and stop them.  You bury your face in his chest, and he wraps his solid arms around you, rubbing your back and soothing you as you sob quietly.

“Shh, baby, s’okay… I understand,” he murmurs into your hair.  “Don’t cry. You’re still my favorite girl.”

You alternate between giggling and sniffling into his shirt.

“I’m so sorry, Joel—that was psychotic behavior,” you bemoan.  You feel him shake his head.

“Don’t apologize, baby,” he coos.  “Y’didn’t answer me, though.”

“Hmm?” you say, craning your neck to look at him.

“Y’gonna let me drive you?” he asks, gazing into the somber pools of your eyes.  You roll them, small smirk stretching your cheeks.

“I ‘spose.  Only ‘cause you asked so nicely.  And ‘cause I’m a fucking asshole.”  He chuckles, pulling you into his warm embrace.  He kisses the crown of your head.

“My asshole,” he soothes.  You squeeze him tightly, a nonverbal apology flowing from your fingertips into his broad back.

“Baby,” he says, and you pull back to gaze at him.  His eyes flick between yours, a question hidden behind his pupils.  You arch one eyebrow at him.

“I love you—y’know that, right?” he says, the volume of his voice lowered, redness creeping up his neck.  He looks shy, almost childlike.

Shock doesn’t fill you; rather, warmth blooms in your chest.  You knew he did—it was just a matter of when he decided to tell you verbally.  He shows you constantly with his actions.  The corner of your mouth ticks up in a sly grin.

“Fastest you’ve ever told someone that, yeah?” you poke, and it’s his turn to roll his eyes.

“Been through more in 12 days with you ‘n anyone in a lifetime—seems like we’ve known each other a long, long time,” he says, picking some stray hairs from your face.

“Yeah, very true… I love you too.  Even though you hate the coffee I drink.”  He beams at you, shoulders shaking along with his deep chuckles.  He leans in and stops just prior to his lips brushing yours.

“Hey, I’ve tried and tried to like the sugary shit—ain’t my thing.  But you certainly are,” he croons, pressing his lips against yours before you can respond.

This kiss feels much like your first one, back at McKinney’s—passionate, fresh, experimental.  It doesn’t heat up immediately, either—you two savor each other’s lips and embraces, content in the softness and sweetness of this moment of forgiveness.  It’s almost a new beginning for both of you.  Liveliness surges through your veins, scraping the sludge of uncertainty, self-doubt, and anxiety from the walls that have built up since the stabbing.  His lips are chapped, longer stubble chafing your skin, hands holding you a bit tighter than they did when he kissed you goodbye yesterday.  He pulls back, teeth lightly pulling your lower lip with him.

“Y’know, you’re sexy when you’re mad at me,” he teases you, lusty undertones echoing in his deep voice.

“Don’t make it a habit, Miller,” you scold him, squinting your eyes at him.  He laughs again.

“Come over so I can pack, and we can hit the road, sound good?”

“Sure does.”

Taglist: @burntheedges, @syd-djarin, @anoverwhelmingdin, @danaispunk <3

[solarpunkani]

Hello hello sunflowers

I’ve mentioned before that I’m working on a hooded cloak with a butterfly pattern in it?

I took a break from it for awhile (birthday gift, commissions, general Overwhelmedness) but I’m back at it again at Krispee Kreme and I actually started on the butterflies a bit!

the way I’m making it right now is the top edge wiill be where I attach the hood later. The lacey part near the bottom will be a butterfly pattern that repeats every few rows (I’m thinking 2 or 3 solid rows in between each right now)

I think I made a mistake on the last row for actually forming the butterfly but its 3am so thats a problem for Tomorrow Me to deal with. For now though here’s what they look like closer up

If I decide I Hate Them I’ll simply switch to a cool dragonfly pattern I found that should be WAY easier to work with. However I like butterflies more than dragonflies so I wanna make this work

‘Ani there’s a way to make a cool larger butterfly just like that cool dragonfly stitch you saw/Ani wtf this isn’t the butterfly stitch I know and love’

I am extremely picky and the more common butterfly stitch had 3 wing sections/holes instead of 2 and it pissed me off. (Also no puff stitch, which was half the charm in the dragonfly stitch to me) I did try it. I was not a fan.

Behold, me trying to make butterfly stitches work for me like 2ish weeks ago

“Ani why are you talking about this so much” its 3am

Gnight

[brainrot-yumm]

kay liveposting (and probably some inevitable sleepposting) bout batman again yaaaaaaaaaaaay I like batman even though I really don't know much about it, I don't like the pointlessly edgy variants but I do like the extremely expressive ones like this and wow do I need to watch the animated series

kay already this writing is so utterly charming. Meeting the various townspeople to show how expressive they are is already my favorite trope but the reactions of the reporter are really killing it for me. "you've got shmuck kid, you've got a gun pointed at me" I love him

god the first arrivals of Batman are always the silliest things taken so dramatically. Actual child (or child lookalike) robbing a news reporter. Random teen about to be hazed by new gang. Like this man deals with actual terrorists on the reg and he's transitioning from a fight scene to the main theme of the show. Come on. Do better. Batman, not the show. Batman do better.

wouldn't calling Catwoman "Catbitch" be an oxymoron or something of the equivalent?

fyuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck Im too tired to live post Im sorry. Its 3 am I gotta be up at 7 I havent even planned for tomorrow. I left my flash drives in class yesterday because I was too tired to remember and genuinally didn't realize I lost it until midnight. Yesterday morning. I was procrastinating taking a shower and accidentally was stuck in a half doze half wake multiple sessions until 6 am, so that really wasn't healing slepe. gnight

the narrator sounds like Beau Handsome

THE MAYOR POURING HIMSELF A DRINK AFTER TELLING THE NEWS THAT BATMAN IS ON THE POLICE FORCE

THE NARRATOR IS THE GUY FROM WORDGIRL

alfred has beef with a computer lmao

this is so fun I love how everyone's a little nutty to be living in Gotham and it shows through such rich flavor. The cat sanctuary who is delighted partners with Catwoman? The singer who accidentally signed his life away with Penguin? The expansion of the little league criminals? The concept that all the villains truly were just normal people and that any guy in Gotham could be disfigured and turned insane any day? Fucking. Tasty good shit.

I love the mayor's performance but wow is that a shitty dude.

the fact that he's willing to do everything except adopt a rescue cat lmao

I'm sorry, they just pronounced "Gala" as GAY-la and I think I'm gonna have to pronounce it that way for the rest of my life now

[boreal-sea]

Hellraiser 1 live blogging

Summary: That was fucking fun. Amazing special effects, fun plot, characters I liked, and just all around absolutely deserving of its place as a horror classic.

that seems like a sweaty way to solve a box

Oh this is a fun place, look, a face!

So this guy has a brother he hasn't seen in ages.

Julia doesn't like the house. Rocky marriage, too. This weird house isn't gonna help lol. Ew, buggies. I do appreciate older movies using real bugs. Larry! Come look! A terrifying... mattress?

Frank is the brother I guess.

Then who is phone?

Kirstie has found a room, a room better than a creepy house.

Oh no, scary sex party photos. He was kinda handsome tho. Are you stealing that photo, Julia? Naughty.

Hey mover dude, stop leering.

Hello again Kirstie. Hello, ominous bridge. Hello, ominous bushes and trees. Hello ominous farmhouse.

"This is a big house" I've seen like 3 rooms so far.

"Her mother's dead". Lol. I'd heard that line before.

Julia, you got the hots for the broooo. I would also be kinda seduced by brother frank out in the rain.

Julia isn't concerned with you, Kirstie, she has an old photo to make out with. And to stand ominously at the top of the stairs with.

Now for ze attic. And erotic memories. Nice. I think? She seems into it, sort of? Kinda hard to tell, but modern-day her is totally into the - oh ok, yeah, she was totally into it.

Oh that nail is gonna be involved and I can't watch lol. *looks away*

Did she orgasm from that memory?

Ew that's a lot of blood. Bro why didn't you get a towel?

House: "slurp"

Ahh, the tell tale heart.

See, these effects are great. I really do believe this floor is bubbling with demonic energy and resurrecting a disgusting man. Fuck this sequence is awesome. Yeah I can watch this, but not a guy getting stabbed by a nail. Don't ask, I can't explain it either. That fucking rocked.

And dinner party, complete with laughter that sounds like it's coming from a studio audience. Also, you WILL get drunk, no leaving allowed! Except Julia, she's allowed.

Mmm whispers. Welcome back to the attic.

Kinda hard not to look at you bro. This makeup is awesome, and I love his dialogue? It's so casual, but also coming from a horrible flesh zombie, it's great. "Help me, will ya?" He needs more blood.

Ominous lurking, Julia. Love the lighting.

Kirstie, awkwardly: "Gnight." lol

Hello creepy fisherman dude. No idea if he's a fisherman but he looks like one. Ah, smack talking Julia. She IS fucking weird.

Of course he sleep talks. And Julia plots, and thinks about sex.

Frank's makeup is so fucking good. Thank you, 80's movie, for lighting your characters.

Oooh this is a cool effect. What's going on here? Oh, it's Kirstie dreaming. You know I give her credit for immediately calling. Too bad he's gonna die immediately after the phone call. Right? (no)

Hey Frank, you're not allowed to think about Kirstie, you already have a lady. Am I judging a dead zombie man? Yes.

Oh, so is Julia gonna grab a random stranger dude? And not kill her husband? Sorry, random dude. Come on Julia, think up an excuse like, "let's not fuck right in front of the door, idiot". I mean, he's sleazy, but probably doesn't deserve murder. He is dumb though. Julia isn't very good at this fake seductress thing, but it IS her first time. I think I would've stabbed him by now though. LOL whitie tighties. So unsexy. Woooo murdered. In his undies, how undignified.

I do love Julia's earrings, those kick ass. Tortoiseshell stars, fuck yeah. Very 80's.

You did a bad job cleaning yourself up Julia.

Mmm crunchy yum yums.

Ew he's even squishier. So slimy. Ew, no Frank, I don't wanna touch you either.

"Come to daddy" is going to make me laugh forever now.

I wonder how much porn there is of half-alive Frank.

Julia needs to dispose of a body, just give her a sec! Larry, you're kinda dumb.

Julia, you didn't really think you'd get away with murdering just one guy did you? I imagine salty skin on bare... muscle? would be very painful.

Oof, customer service. Yeah, you know, a complaining Karen and Dude Eating the Crickets sounds about right for customer service.

Welcome home, victim #2. "I like to be careful" - murdered. lol. Julia is a lot more chill about it this time, also she's becoming sexier! You know I will say she was very quickly on board with this whole murder thing. Hm Frank, you're still looking a little slimy, do you think you should be wearing clothes yet?

Ok so the cenobites introduced you to BDSM.

Julia is bored by boxing. "I've seen worse" LMAO. Also Larry, shouldn't this stuff make YOU sick? You're the guy who hates blood. Oh Larry, don't be a hero. "Guess I gotta seduce my own husband to keep him from going to the attic". Does she care a little for Larry? I think she probably doesn't want him to die, at the very least.

lmao how did Larry not see those rats?

Whoah Frank just slippin by there. Ooo he's gonna do a murder. Can Larry not hear her say no?? I'm so confused. Oh no, he was just ignoring her. Turd.

Marriage talk with your kiddo. It sure is "way beyond" you buddy.

Ah, marriage talk with the zombie.

Oh no, Kirstie is gonna get the wrong idea. Sorry kiddo, your step mom isn't cheating on your dad! Well ok, yes, she is - but not with that particular dude. Actually, the worse crime here is she's a big ol murderer. Oh wait is Kirstie actually witnessing the murder a little? I can't tell. She seems very concerned though.

I appreciate Larry wants to keep Julia from seeing the worst of the murdering. I also appreciate the crunchy noises.

I love that the whole house just constantly creaks for no reason. Nooo don't go in the attic. Eeeew icky touchy uncle Frank.

I don't know if she's necessarily smart for stealing the box, but she was smart to use it to get away.

Why is the nurse watching the "flowers opening" channel? This doctor is being so fucking weird lol. "Yeah you were found wandering, passing out, covered in blood but uh, we're gonna treat you like a criminal."

ooh, the box likes to pretend it's pretty, pink sparkles! Seems like the box can pretty much solve itself, don't know why Frank was all sweaty about it.

Hm, maybe don't go in there, this isn't a children's 80's movie. That is not a hallway to a fun adventure.

Hi two-headed fishface cenobite.

Oh fucking cool, the tiles glowing like that!

OH that's the chatterer, right? I know folks have named them all.

And it's our guy, "Lead Cenobite" - I mean Pinhead!

I love them all. They're so great. <3

Oh, is Julia gonna show Frank to Larry? Are we to guess he was murdered off screen? Does Frank have skin now? Oh nope, he's just ... wait. No. That's Frank wearing Larry, isn't it?

Why do you need to see a body so badly, Kirstie? I mean, he's gonna be skinless either way. Guess it'd be hard to tell lol. Of course, Kirstie is upset because this means the cenobites are gonna eat her.

All kinds of chaos happening now. At least Kirstie figured it out. Aww you broke Frank's new skin.

"Well, so much for the cat and mouse shit" - that got a real laugh out of me. *snort*

Oops Frank, you killed Julia a bit. Don't seem to broken up about it, but he's more into Kirstie.

There's still cenobites in the attic. I like to imagine they're just up there, twidding their thumbs like "... Is she coming back?"

I always think it's fun when you have a character wearing the face of another character because it means the other actor is playing the part now, and some folks do a REALLY good job at this.

Hey now cenobites, that's not playing fair. She's sort of trying to help you, remember? Maybe that was just a reminder "bring him to us and we'll take care of him for you". I think she's trying to draw him in? To where the cenobites are.

My friends are back!

"This isn't for your eyes" Kirstie slowly slips away like "yeah ok good I'll fuck off now for sure bye". She keeps watching though. Not sure why, I guess so we the audience can see?

Ooh, the house is bleeding, nice. Oh, Julia grabbed the box or the box grabbed her, not sure which.

Aw, Pinhead just wants to show you things.

Ah, so you CAN unsolve the box and it blasts them all back to hell. Also the house is collapsing because sure. Steve is like "no questions, just run".

Ok, the ending fight with the fishface was a little silly. "Oh, can't get a grip on the box, would you just - I can't get it! Gotta grab the box!"

That burned down fast.

Kristie, it's a metal box. Why do you think it's gonna burn? Oh hey it's bug eating dude. I feel like he was one of them the whole time. Oh yeah he was. A skeletal dragon???

And now it's back home apparently.

The end!

[bunglegaydogs]

ep 9! (spoilers obviously)

just watched episode nine of course

not much to say about it, in all honesty. not much to look into

my only thing i was like hmmm about it, ofc, dazais expressions, as i always fucking am

i thought to myself how when fyodor was taunting him for being unable to think regarding his partner, i thought how he looked more disbelieving than anything. because at first i was like fuck cmon give him some more emotion, but then i realised he actually was just like "am i hearing this? whats he just said? did he just say what i think he said?" and hes trying to like... process what fyodors just said to him?

idk if that makes much sense, but i hope it does.

because its like, fyodor is underestimating their 7 years of partnership here. hes insulting their bond. their foundations. and i think dazai, to say the least, was a little stunned upon hearing that? GAH this is probably making absolutely zero fucking sense lmao

anyways gday/gnight lol <3

[beegswaz]

ouw yeah its 1 am gnight for realsies <3

[legobatjoker]

OKAYY ITS GETTIN NEAR TO 4AM !! that not good i should have been in best a lot earleir than that !!!! soo i will go to bed now then FDHDFHDF but before i do i do really just want to say that !! i really do just love you so so very much my dearest !! like just hope you know that reially do jsut feel soso insanely lucky to know you and be your friend love like you really are just the most wonderful incredible friend to me dearest like youre so kind and caring and thoughtful and sweet and loving and good to me and just make me feel soso loved and cared for and safe and warm with you love and like. i hope you know just knowing you and having in my life and spending with you you and being your friend dearest just brings me so so much joy and light and happiness and i really am just soso grateful to know you and have you for a friend love you really do just mean the world to me and i really do just love you so so very much dearest i really do :'> !!! i hope ur days been good and that you sleep well, ilusmm <3 💗💞🦋🐞🍓🍊💞💗✨✨✨

JSBSJSNSJ NOT THE 4AM BEDTIME altho u have been getting better at bedtimes lately which is v good so u kinda deserve to treat urself to thee friday lateness ykw wjdnxjdbjd but yeah omgggg i feel sososoooo lucky to get to know youuu my beloved like you really are so very incredible and lovely and such an amazingly kind caring supportive friend to mee and fill my life with sooo much more joy and warmth and i rlly am just so grateful to know u too so!! yah im sososo glad to get to b a good friend to u and to get to know someone as amaizng as u jules<33 have a rlly gnight i love you smmmmmmm 💕💕🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻💕💕💕💕🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻💕💕💕

[notafunkiller]

I AM BACK!! I hope you miss me bcs i do~ *wink wink*

also i have loads of fun, bought so many things (our luggage was like x2/3 from the original weight) i just gotta finish organising my stuffs but im a legit procastinator💀…. (ps my back and feet hurts so bad)

anyways back to the topic, what i wanna talk abt is:

1. I saw aw latest post and funny how she didn’t post the pic seb took on top of the historic thingy place. not only that, but she posted the pic of her red dress at the same day the pic of them eating got spread (with the same red dress) again, baiting the fans bcs ‘apparently’ as they said “OMAGAH SEB MUST TOOK IT”. also the forst pic (w the brown dress), someone pointed out that she’s using his sunglasses (which is also his met gala sunglasses) idk what to feel (bcs im too lazy to think rn), but what do u think?

2. again just saw aw ig story, which i think is also baiting?? yknow that pinky ring they both had? yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa… just literally saw a post couple days ago saying that they have a matching ring… and ofc some people argue that its not or he had the ring for a long time already and then boom… a subtle pinky pic (maybe im just speculating it too much but yeah, coincidence?)👀👀

hehhe thats all gnight sweet dreams

Helloo, I hope you're well.

To be honest, the people that are delulu are gonna make up things (just like the moving to NYC or LA together and having babies etc), and it's silly, and they get extra mad if you do not engage with them, btw. And I find that funny.

About the pic with the ring... she always baits, so I wouldn't be surprised if it was a bait since she follows and reads everything people write. But it's not worth it.

[caruliaa]

ok and with that i realize it is def time for me to go to sleep. will i? i should… will i tho… yes ok im forcing myself to i will i will i need to!!!!! but anyway yah ahhhh calling with u just now and watching cs was sooooo amazing extremely wonderful highlight to end my day on and i really do just want to say that like. ahhhh spending time w u and knowing u is like thee best thing my beloved ladybird and youre truly just suchhhhh an amzing csring compassionate friend and u make my whole world sooo much better and brighter and im just sosososo glad to know youuu and b your friend and so lucky we met and i rlly rlly rlly think ur just an amazing lovely person strawb and i care abt u soo much and i love you sososooooo muchhhhh )hugs u gnight if u wld like that!!!! iluu💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕)

YA i am v proud of u if u did get to sleep esp since well. its 3:30 as i answer this GHDYHDTYD so u need to be getting to sleep lol but i wanted to answer your asks first lol and ya i rly did have sm fun watching cs together and vcing and just getting to spend time with you yk it really was so wonderful that we got to love and im so glad it was the same for you love and i hope you know that i really am so glad that i can be such a good friend to you love and be caring and compassionate and make your life better and brighter and stuff my love becuase you really do just deserve it so much my dearest love and i really do just want to love beucase you really are soso special and dear to me and i just wnat to make your life better in whatever way i can so i hope you know that im so so glad that i can love and i hope you know you really are the same to me love you are such a wonderful friend to me my love and make me feel osos loved and cared for and safe and warm and at home with you and just spending time with you and knowing you is just so so wonderful and brings so so much joy and light and warmth into my life and i hope u know that you really do just mean the world to me and ireally do jsut love you soso very much dearest *hugs you back soso very much if ud like* 💕💞🐞🦋💗🐈🍰💌🥭🍊💞💞💞✨✨✨✨

[nixii-sabre]

Ok its like almost 1 am i think imma go eep

I pulled an all nighter last night so Im really tired lmao

Ill probably doodle inm my notebook a bit thoh. So uh.

Gnight tumblr, mutuals go the FRICK to sleep if its late your time ilya bye <3