#schedule is tentatively tuesdays with a possibility of friday if i feel 2 posts should be in succession <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[auspexsims]

Volume 1: Paper, Cotton, Leather

[poppunkporco]

the one where you walked me home (porco x reader fic)

the one where you walked me home (porco x reader)

contents: porco x fem reader, mentions of marcel galliard, childhood friends, best friends to lovers, fluff, pining, alternate universe - college/university, modern au, bisexuality, smoking, porco galliard-centric

rating: teen and up audiences

summary: When he walks her home that night, Porco realizes he might have feelings for his childhood best friend. He has no idea in hell how to deal with it but he tries.

word count: 5079

notes: i just thought it'd be interesting to try writing a modern au porco/reader fic in a more porco-centric POV. what i try to do here is explore how he deals with the soft sappy feelings of slowly realizing he's in love since he's pretty bad at emotions and even more so when it's not a [strong, violent type of feeling]

*fic loosely based on this song:

*this is also cross-posted on ao3

***

2:40 AM at an empty parking lot behind a 7-Eleven. The nearest lamp post flickers weakly with its dimming orange light as Porco sets down his third empty beer can on the concrete with a yawn.

“Hey,” he says, lightly shrugging the shoulder against which she leaned her head on. She doesn’t budge from beside him. He rubs the lethargy off his eyes.

They’ve been sitting on this parking block for almost three hours now-- since they left the gig hours ago at the pub just across the university. They’d just spent the past few hours ranting about midterms and how fucked up alienated labor is along with the absence of ethical consumption under capitalism-- and how everyone is forced to participate in it, talking about trips they’d like to make in and outside the city, their ideal lovers, and anxieties about the future. This was a thing they did now and then, usually on Fridays and Saturdays-- seeking a kind of cathartic escape from their hectic academic life in each other’s company. A friendly rendezvous they’d jokingly call dates every now and then.

He leans forward just enough to get a peek at her face, partly obscured by the mess of hair that had fallen in front of her eyes. 

So she’s asleep.

His eyes dart towards their things lumped together beside her feet-- their backpacks sitting atop an A4-size sketchbook along with the last unopened beer can.

Porco idly clinks his finger against the top of the beer can he had just emptied as he breathes out a wistful sigh.

Somehow, she always reminded him of his long-gone brother. Not to say that she shared even a bit of Marcel's fairly easygoing yet charming demeanor. Because she was far from that. She was loud with a crude mouth-- more like Porco himself, really-- except that she at least was kinder, more pleasantly charismatic towards other people than himself. And in that way, yes, she did remind him of Marcel. But there were other things-- pastimes and memories that reminded him of his brother when she came to mind. They’d known each other even as kids. Back in middle school, Porco remembers how she’d visit their home on the weekends so the three of them could build a Lego city which Marcel himself had drafted on the back of one of his sketchbooks. Those two were always quite the artists even as kids-- Porco recalls fondly. His brother had been the one to introduce her to Porco during one of those weekends. He didn’t like it at first-- how Marcel would seem to pay more attention to her at times as they animatedly sketched parts of the city on paper in the middle of assembling the Lego blocks. He’d eventually learned to be tolerant of her presence at least as the weekends passed by and the city gradually came to life-- vast with skyscrapers, houses, trees, vehicles, and lamp posts. Porco distinctly remembers building a garden with her beside a house that resembled the Galliard residence. He had assembled the green pieces that resembled leaf blades onto the flat Lego board, while she topped them off with tiny colorful flower pieces. It was honestly quite fun and it became a thing he eventually looked forward to on the weekends with Marcel.

But all things come to an end and at times, at points where they feel like they’re not supposed to. Porco knows this well.

In Marcel’s old room, the city remains hidden away, unfinished.

It was on a rainy day when Marcel had met an accident on his way home with a schoolmate. Onlookers had witnessed him racing against the red light to push Reiner away from the path of an incoming vehicle.

Even if it was an accident, Porco despises Reiner after that. He'd decided to never talk to him after the incident but as fate would ridiculously have it, they’d meet again in high school-- as classmates, nonetheless, to his dismay.

It was after this same incident that Porco had grown closer to her-- the only other person who possibly knew Marcel almost nearly as he himself did. She knew about the city and she knew about his sketches, after all. In the first few days after his brother’s wake, they’d simply talk about Marcel as they walked home together after school and how they both missed him. Those walks home would eventually involve detours at the nearest Mcdonald’s where they’d get nuggets and buy a Happy Meal-- the ones that came in flimsy cardboard packaging printed with colorful cartoon mascots-- for the sake of getting the collectibles that came with them. It was a thing they never really grew out of. Even now, as college kids, whenever they’d find themselves eating out together at the nearest Mcdonald’s after their Philosophy classes scheduled on Tuesdays and Thursdays, they’d get themselves a Happy Meal, even if they sometimes earned puzzled looks from the cashier as they engaged in quick, petty quarrels as to which collectible they should get.

Soon, Porco feels her shuffle in her seat beside him, the weight of her head now off his shoulder. She rubs the sleep off her eyes with a yawn.

“...should go home,” she drawls, accidentally kicking one of the empty beer cans sprawled in front of them on the concrete. It lands right at the feet of a passer-by who in turn shoots her a cold glare before kicking the can back in her direction. "I-- hey, uh, sorry about that," she apologizes, louder than necessary. Said passer-by only clicks their tongue in annoyance as they raised a middle finger at her before walking away with a muffled swear under their breath.

She exchanges incredulous, befuddled looks with Porco for a few silent moments before eventually letting out a snort and bursting into a fit of stupidly drunken laughter with him. 

“...is what I mean… fucking capitalism... makesnasshole out ofveryone,” she remarks, broken phrases drawn out in between chuckles. “Yeah, yeah. I got it for the tenth time,” Porco says, laughing with a roll of his eyes. He stands up and stretches out a hand in front of her. “Now can we go home? Can’t exactly start a revolution when the alcohol’s fucked you up that bad,” he says with an impatient sigh.

“Yeah? How do you know? Did Karl Marx write that?” She languidly takes his hand.

“No, but-- fucking… well, I don’t know. Maybe? Indirectly? I mean, we did just give in to consumerism,” Porco says with a sharp click of his tongue as he pulls her up to stand.

“Well… yeah. I guess so.”

“Anyway.” Porco places a palm at the top of her head and urges her to face him. “You seem more out of it than me. I’m walking you home this time, alright?

”She shrugs languidly. “Sure, whatever,” she says, her words muffled as she falls face first into his chest. 

--

“Give me the fucking keys,” he says coarsely after her third failed attempt at unlocking the door to her own flat. In the dim light of the hall, Porco tries to make out the shape of what he recognizes as the right one among the five keys dangling from her keychain. He sighs, frustrated as he finally unlocks the door. 

“How the hell did you--?” Confused, she eyes the keys still dangling from the door. “Why wouldn’t it open when it was me?”

“For the love of--” Porco runs a palm down across his face with an exasperated sigh. “You were forcing the wrong key.”

“Oh.” She snorts trying to stifle a chuckle. Porco pulls the keys from the door and hands them to her along with the sketchbook he’d been carrying.

“Thanks.” She gives the door a light push before finally taking a step into the flat. And then a sudden stop. She pockets her keys and lets the sketchbook fall on the carpeted floor of the foyer. She tilts her head pensively for a few moments, staring blankly at the darkness of her room. Porco raises an eyebrow in confusion. She turns on her heel to face him again.

“What is it?” he asks.

She stands on the tips of her toes, eyeing Porco with what felt to him like newfound curiosity. She rests a hand on his shoulder to steady herself.

Her other hand soon reaches up to cradle the side of his face. It comes as a surprise, but not the kind that made you flinch or visibly react in some way. This was simply… unexpected. Weird. And somehow new.

She’s looking at me. And she’s looking like she’s waiting.

And what is she waiting for, exactly? He feels a nervous lump in his throat, swallows it down. He has half the mind to lean his face closer as he, too, looks at her-- and he looks at her like he’s waiting.

Alas, whatever this is-- it ends where it feels like it’s not supposed to.

“‘Night, Porco,” she says with a feeble smile before falling back flatly on her feet.

“Yeah. You too. I’ll see you around,” he says, tentatively glancing at his side.She crouches down to lazily pick up the sketchbook before finally entering her flat again. Porco catches her giving him a tiny wave through the crack of the door moments before she completely pushes it closed. He bids her goodbye with a curt nod.

Once the door closes, he rolls up the sleeve of his jacket to check the time. 

3:15 AM. Porco raises a palm to his cheek. The ghost of her touch lingers on his skin.

***

“Are you serious?” Porco scoffs. “Y/N, you’re not even watching the film.” He leans his head against his palm with his arm resting on the side of the couch.

“Sure I am,” she says, unpinning her hair before letting her head fall on his lap. As she types out a message on her phone, Porco manages to make out Pieck’s name at the top of the chat box.

“You keep checking your phone.”

“It’s fine. We’ve both seen this film before anyway. I told you-- I’m just rewatching it for my paper on Nietzsche.”

“So you dragged me into this for what?”

She gives a halfhearted shrug. “I don’t know. Felt like it. Just wanted to bother you for a good film.” She finally sets aside her phone to look up at Porco with a shit-eating grin. He sighs and flicks a finger against her forehead. “Ow. What the fuck.”

“At least try to look like you’re actually watching,” Porco says, turning her head to face the TV screen.

"Fine, fine," she says with a grimace as she kneads the pain away on her forehead.

They’re now about an hour into Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. As lovers Joel and Clementine ran through the memories-- hand in hand mapping the history of their relationship-- the ups and downs-- scenes of the two playfully mocking the film at a drive-in theater, a stroll through the flea market leading into talks of having a child, lovemaking underneath the covers as Clementine told Joel about her insecurities rooting from childhood-- all these small intimacies that nonetheless revealed to each other their flawed, detestable selves along with reasons they probably shouldn’t be together, Porco realizes it. 

He looks at her, notes the way the flicker of the TV screen daintily lit up her solemn face and how she’d break into a smile every now and then. She’d brush the back of her hand against his knee and point at the TV screen to tell him that this was among her favorite parts so he absolutely had to pay close attention. A bit funny considering she was the one who wasn’t paying much attention to the film during the first part, Porco thinks. At least she’s watching now, even as he can’t help but watch her instead.

As he absentmindedly brushes a hand against her hair, he wonders if they could be something more, wonders if they’d be anything like Joel and Clementine-- imperfect, but nonetheless worthwhile. They’d known each other since they were kids and he can definitely make a list of things he doesn’t like about her-- like the way she’s too loud and frisky and never seemed to take the right things seriously, how scatterbrained she was that she’d forget the schedule for a midterm exam and how her room always seemed to be in shambles, the way she was so stubborn she’d easily get upset at something as simple as choosing to eat at a fast food different from the one she insisted on, how she’d smoke in his dorm no matter how many times he’d told her that she could get him in trouble for it. But it's not like he's perfect either. She’d told him that he came on too headstrong at times and that’s why a lot of people felt intimidated by him-- a trait that had gotten him into fights and eventually, long afternoons of detention back in high school. She says she hates the way he thought himself too strong to cry in front of anyone and how he’d grown dismissive of opening up to her as they got older. Whenever they’d get into heated fights, she’d tell him that all you ever are is angry and how he was pretty shit at saying sorry like he meant it. And despite all of these, they had remained close friends over the years. They’d promised each other that they’d get better-- slowly, but surely-- even if that was something easier said than done. He could live with that. He would.

***

“Hey, uh--” Porco breathes out a puff of smoke as he hands her the cigarette. He gazes distantly at the parade of city lights before them-- from the headlamps of the vehicles passing below them on the bridge, the streetlights, and the buildings overhead. “--do you still like Pieck?”

She suddenly lets out a cough and a puff of smoke at that. She gapes at Porco incredulously.

“Pock, it’s been three years since we broke up. And that was high school.”

“Look, I know that, but--” he sighs. “I was just wondering.”

She laughs. “That’s not really what you wanted to ask, is it? There’s something else.” She raises an eyebrow at Porco. He rolls his eyes at that, irked at how easily she could read him. “So ask.” She passes him the cigarette and he takes a drag of it.

“Ok--” he says with a sigh. “--Have you liked any other girls after her?”

She raises an eyebrow, intrigued.

“No, not really. Nothing serious, at least. I mean, I did have a crush on this girl who sat beside me in English class during freshman year. But... that was freshman year, you know? Nothing ever really came of it. And you know I would have told you if something actually did, anyway."

“I see.”

“There’s more you want to ask,” she says with a cheeky smile.

“Ok. Fine.” Another drag of the cigarette. “How about-- boys? Have you liked any guy at all since then?” The city lights blur against the filter of smoke. Porco refuses to meet her eyes even as he feels her gaze on him-- heavy with something he could not exactly put his finger on. He knows she’s not smiling anymore and from his periphery, he thinks he senses a swallow in her throat. She turns to the city overhead.

“Yes, actually.” She takes the cigarette from him, smiling fondly upon the light brush of their fingers. “I-- you know, even though I’ve known for a long time that I liked both guys and girls, I still find myself doubting that sometimes. When I’m attracted to a girl, I sometimes think that maybe I was just gay all along. And now that I find myself actually liking a boy again, a part of me entertains the thought that maybe me liking girls was just a phase and maybe I was straight all along. But... I just know it’s not like that. And yet, what people say still gets to me-- they’ve got a way of making you think that being bi isn’t a real thing. Even though it is. I know because... I’m real, right?”

“Yeah. You are. You’re… you’re here.” The corner of his lips turn up as he says it. “I get it. I mean, I think I’m the same.”

“Really?” She turns to gape at him.

“I suppose I’ve never told you this either because it’s so fucking embarrassing, but…” He sighs defeatedly, kneading his temples with unease. “...I made out with Reiner in high school.”

She regards him with a scandalized look.

“Dude, what the fuck. I thought you hated the guy.” 

“I do, alright? It’s just that… teenage hormones and shit. I was stupid and he’s stupid. I-- I don’t know what I was thinking that time. But… I do wonder sometimes--” He scratches his head tentatively. “--what my brother was thinking rushing in to save him from that accident. Like… just what did he see in that meathead that was worth saving?”

“And did you find your answer to that when you were making out?”

Porco eyes her with a deathly glare.

“Fuck you.” 

“Oh, so you did,” she says with an impish grin.

Porco flicks a finger against her forehead.

“Ow-- hey! Stop that,” she says with a grimace. “I mean, I don’t blame you. Reiner’s hot.”

He clicks his tongue at the remark before hastily seizing the cigarette from her grasp to take another drag. "Not like he's the only guy I ever found ho-- I mean liked."

She laughs.

"We should head back," he says coldly.

"Sure.” She nods. “Though… is there anything else you wanted to ask?"

As the filter of smoke hangs between them, Porco wonders about the boy she likes.

He shakes his head. "No. It's nothing."

***

“It was like deja vu,” Porco says, sighing into his phone as he shifts to lie near the edge of his bed. “Except in this dream… before she said goodnight, we, uh--”

“You kissed?” Pieck suggests from the other line.

“Well… yeah.” He puts a palm to cover his face, feeling the flush on his cheeks as he says it.

“So you like her,” Pieck says, almost breaking into a chuckle.

“I, uh…”

“I get it. She’s charming and reminds you of Marcel.”

“That’s…”

“I’ll be honest with you.” She sighs and Porco senses a smile from her tone. “Remember when I said I broke up with her because uni was getting too busy? The truth is that… I feel like you two always seemed to get along better than I ever could with her-- and it probably has to do with Marcel. When I realized that, I’ll admit I did start to feel jealous. I thought back then that you two might eventually get together. After all, you two were both still in high school, while I was already away in uni. It left me distraught for months so I just... decided to break it off. Don’t get me wrong, though. It’s been years and it’s not like I haven’t dated anyone else since then. And in hindsight, that just might have been for the best. I mean, you confiding in me about her right now-- I think-- is a testament to that. Because you realized it too, didn’t you?”

“Oh." He pauses. "I never thought that you-- Pieck, look, I--”

“Pock, if you feel guilty about it just because I used to date her, don’t. It’s not anyone’s fault. That… that she just loved you first. It’s circumstance. She met you and Marcel first before me.”

That she loved you first. As Porco echoes the words in his head, he becomes acutely aware of the beating in his chest and the warmth swarming his face. He buries his face in a pillow and screams into it.

“Hey, Pock? You ok there?” Pieck chuckles.

“How do I-- you think I should tell her?”

“Well, it’s the honest thing to do. And I genuinely think you don’t stand to lose much by doing so. Even if by the littlest chance of her not returning your feelings, I don’t think confessing would ruin your friendship. Might be a little awkward at first, but I don’t think she’ll end up hating or avoiding you at all.”

“You sure you’re not just sayi--”

“No, Pock. I’m not just saying this because we’re friends. I’m saying it because it’s what makes sense.”

“Ok, well… thanks,” he sighs. “And by the way… I’m sorry I called you this early. I know you’re probably busy especially since it’s your thesis year.”

“It’s fine. I’m glad you told me. Frankly, I do find satisfaction in knowing my speculations are correct. And you guys… you two are more predictable than you think-- if I’m being honest,” Pieck laughs.

“Well, I suppose being predictable isn’t so bad… if you’re right.”

Once they bid each other goodbye on the phone, Porco remains sprawled across the bed staring blankly at the ceiling. He rests a palm on his cheek, internally cursing Marcel as he feels the warmth streaming his face once again.

***

“Fuck,” Porco swears under his breath as they both ran towards the car, their feet splashing against the puddled ground as the rain cascades. A looming thunder rolls across the night sky as they make it to the safety of the vehicle.

“So… still not convinced that trying to get a Happy Meal on a rainy Friday at midnight was a bad idea?” Porco says, trying to catch his breath as he sets down the paper bag on the space between their seats.

“Well, I’ll admit it kinda sucked that you had to have your car still parked in school. And in my defense, I didn't expect the drizzle to cascade so soon on the way back. But you know what? It’s fine. We got what we needed and that’s all that matters. I’ll stand by this being a good idea.” She laughs as she peels off her drenched jacket. “Oh, by the way, where can I put this?”

“Just put it in the backseat,” Porco says as he peeled off his own jacket.

“Got it. Here, give me yours too,” she says before turning to place both of their drenched jackets in the backseat.

“Thanks.” Porco switches on the car’s dome light and the windshield wipers. The car’s interior now warmly lit, he rummages inside the paper bag, then hands her a box of chicken nuggets along with a plastic fork. “You want the fries now or later?”

“Later’s good. Thanks.” Porco acknowledges her with a nod, then leans back on the car seat with a languished sigh.

The rain patters incessantly against the windows over the rhythm of the windshield wipers. The faint yellow glow lulls from the ceiling of his car. He recalls a rainy evening spent staring out the window as he nervously waited for Marcel to come home. A distant memory weighs heavy on his eyelids.

“Porco. Are you ok?”

“What? Yeah.” Porco shifts lightly in his seat, slightly startled. “I just… remembered something.”

“What is it?”

“The rain. It just reminded me of Marcel.”

“Oh. Right.”

“Yeah.”

“You know, he was…” She puts down her food and lightly wipes the sides of her mouth with the back of her hand. “Back then, I considered him as something a little more than a best friend. I like that he liked my drawings and how he never made fun of them… even though he was ways better than me at it,” she recalls fondly.

He scoffs. “So… are you guilt-tripping me for something I said about your drawings when we were twelve?”

“You were an asshole, but you should be glad I’m past that.” She rolls her eyes with a sigh. “All I’m saying now is that Marcel was... really special to me.”

“What-- did you have a crush on Marcel or something?”

She snorts. “You could say... it was something like that. Yeah.”

Figures. He nonchalantly crosses his arms in front of his chest. The pattering rain fills in the lull in their conversation.

“I like your drawings too,” he finally says.

“That’s why I drag you along every time I go out to draw. You like watching me, right?” She teasingly raises an eyebrow as she says it.

“Well, sure.” He shrugs awkwardly in his seat.

“Tell me. What else do you like?”

“I don’t know. Let’s see…” he sighs, feigning annoyance with a roll of his eyes. “I like it when I’m in the middle of pulling an all-nighter at Tim Hortons… and you go on and disturb me just to get a Happy Meal on a rainy Friday midnight.”

“Yeah?” she chuckles. “What else?”

Porco turns to glance at her. As she meets him with a playful grin, his mind races with answers.

I like it when you steal my jacket and you leave me to freeze to death in the cold of the cafe’s AC. I like it when you go on a chaotic, semi-coherent drunken rant about how badly you want capitalism dismantled. I like it when you remember Marcel. I like your hair. I like how your hands unpin your hair before you rest your head on my lap.

He scoffs-- more in reaction to his own thoughts than at her teasing. Who knew he could be that embarrassingly sappy? “What are you… getting at?”

“Nevermind.” She shakes her head, still smiling. She laughs while timidly raising a palm to her cheek. “Can we share your fries now?”

***

“So I’m thinking of getting a tattoo,” Porco says, settling himself on the dormitory steps faintly lit by the porch lights hanging on both sides of the entrance.

“Cool. So where do you want it?” She sits beside him while setting down her things-- a shoulder bag and a sketchbook on the concrete step.

“I was just thinking on my arm,” he says, pointing a finger at a spot on his skin.

“What do you want it to look like?”

“Not sure yet.”

“I could draw you one.”

“Yeah?”

“Sure. I could do it right now.”

“Really?”

She takes the ballpoint pen out of the spring of her sketchbook and begins to doodle something on his arm. Covering her drawing with a cupped palm, she chuckles while mischievously peering up at him.

“I swear to god, if you’re drawing something embarrassing-- Oh, fuck you.” Porco laughs, managing to take a peek at the ink drawing of a cartoon porcupine with the hair on its head stylishly pushed back. Below the drawing, it writes 'porcopine.' He pulls his arm away from her grasp.

"What? You don't like it?" She grimaces.

"Porcopine? Really?"

“What? It's cute,” she says with an offended click of her tongue, reaching for his arm once again.

Below the word 'porcopine,' she then writes the phrase 'i <3 you.'

Porco furrows his brows upon reading the phrase, then lets out a chuckle. “What does this--?” he asks, pointing out the inked words on his skin.

“What do you mean? It is what it is.”

“You mean it?”

“Of course I do.”

“How do you mean it?”

She tilts her head pensively and squints at Porco as she gathers how to describe exactly what she meant. She supposes that he’s right-- a clarification was indeed necessary. This kind of thing could get confusing, after all. When you’ve known each other for so long in a relationship such as this, lines tend to blur. One day, you could both feel like the bestest of friends, and then like lovers the next.

“I mean it in a way that I wouldn’t mind marrying you.”

“Oh.” Porco gapes at her for a moment. “Ok,” he says, letting out an awkward chuckle.

“What’s with that reaction? I’m serious, Pock.”

“I just… I mean, to be honest…” He furrows his brows, carefully pondering his words. “I wouldn’t mind marrying you either.” Porco scratches his head sheepishly.

“Ok then,” she chuckles, shifting in her seat to face him. “We could build something. Something bigger than a Lego house. Maybe one with a garden. A story with a perfect ending.”

“Yeah? And if it’s not perfect, what then?”

“Something worthwhile, then. An ending that feels like an ending.”

“Ok. I can live with that,” he laughs.

“Porco.”

As she cradles his face in between her palms, Porco becomes acutely aware of the flush in his cheeks.

Then, slowly, she leans closer to gingerly place a kiss at the tip of his nose.

They soon find themselves both chuckling at what was probably the most blatantly romantic gesture between them thus far.

“So, uh, what are we now, exactly?” he asks awkwardly as they soon pull away.

She shrugs. “Lovers? Best friends who would marry each other? Though the latter is kind of a mouthful if you ask me.”

“Yeah. Let’s go with that first one.”

“Say, Porco.” She tilts her head questioningly at him. “You want to tell me how this night ends?”

“How the hell should I--”

She puts a finger to his lips and shakes her head. “Hey. Lovers now, remember? I’m not the only one telling this story. So tell me.”

“Ok. Let’s see,” he sighs. And so he indulges her. “It ends with you beside me. We’re lying down on my bed.”

“Clothed or naked?”

He gapes. “Are you seriously even consi--”

She flicks a finger against his forehead as she regards him with a mischievous smile. “Just answer the question.”

“Ok, fine,” he resigns, lightly kneading his forehead. “Look, I want to say naked because my AC’s broken ri--”

“Naked it is, then.”

“Clothed.” He glares. “For tonight.”

“Fine, fine,” she says, scratching her head in resignation. “You sure you’re not having second thoughts about letting me stay tonight, though? Not worried you might wake up with a bunch of porcopines on your face? Or I don’t know-- dick drawings?”

“Fuck off,” he says with a chuckle.

“So… what is it, really? You want me to stay or you want me to go?”

Porco sighs before slowly leaning his face closer to hers.

“I want you to stay,” he says against her cheek, before placing a chaste kiss on her skin. “Whatever I wake up to in the morning, I’m sure it’s worth it.”

[trulyterriblegamers]

It’s the 39th Annual Razzie Awards! (2018 Films)

I’ll be honest with myself.  I really do love the worst of the worst.  That goes for all types of media I can get my hands on, including the big-screen pictures.  Now that I’ve got my list of those to consider for the infamous title, I want to put myself to the test.  Can I predict what’s truly the worst of the worst for 2018?  If not, I better put my money where my mouth is.  I’ll take suggestions as to how I should punish myself for failing.

I’ve been meaning to do this last year, but I paced myself rather poorly and the award show started without me (shocker, I know...).  So now that it’s a new year, I’m ready to go full Razzies for the next 32 days!!

Let’s see this years nominations!

(NOTE:  I’ve been tracking this years movies from this forum thread (Thank you GoldDerby!!!),  I’ll likely make my predictions public there too, but if you want a good timeline of 2018′s worst movies, this is a great place to start!)

Worst Screenplay:

Death of a Nation – Dinesh D'Souza and Bruce Schooley; based on The Big Lie and Death of a Nation by D'Souza

Fifty Shades Freed – Niall Leonard; based from the novel by E. L. James

Gotti – Lem Dobbs and Leo Rossi

The Happytime Murders – Todd Berger; story by Berger and Dee Austin Robertson

Winchester – The Spierig Brothers and Tom Vaughan

Worst Prequel, Remake, Rip-off, or Sequel:

Death of a Nation – (Quality Flix; remake of Hillary's America: The Secret History of the Democratic Party)

Death Wish – (Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer)

Holmes & Watson – (Columbia)

The Meg – (Warner Bros.; rip-off of Jaws)

Robin Hood – (Summit)

Worst Screen Combo:

Any two actors or puppets – The Happytime Murders

Johnny Depp & “his fast-fading film career” – Sherlock Gnomes

Will Ferrell & John C. Reilly – Holmes & Watson

Kelly Preston & John Travolta – Gotti

Donald Trump & his self-perpetuating pettiness – Death of a Nation and Fahrenheit 11/9

Worst Supporting Actress:

Kellyanne Conway – Fahrenheit 11/9 as herself

Marcia Gay Harden – Fifty Shades Freed as Grace Trevelyan Grey

Kelly Preston – Gotti as Victoria Gotti

Jaz Sinclair – Slender Man as Chloe

Melania Trump – Fahrenheit 11/9 as herself

Worst Supporting Actor:

Chris "Ludacris" Bridges (voice only) – Show Dogs as Max

Jamie Foxx – Robin Hood as Little John

Joel McHale – The Happytime Murders as Special Agent Campbell

John C. Reilly – Holmes & Watson as Dr. John Watson

Justice Smith – Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom as Franklin Webb

Worst Actress:

Jennifer Garner – Peppermint as Riley North

Amber Heard – London Fields as Nicola Six

Melissa McCarthy – The Happytime Murders as Detective Connie Edwards

Helen Mirren – Winchester as Sarah Winchester

Amanda Seyfried – The Clapper as Judy

Worst Actor:

Johnny Depp (voice only) – Sherlock Gnomes as Sherlock Gnomes

Will Ferrell – Holmes & Watson as Sherlock Holmes

John Travolta – Gotti as John Gotti

Donald Trump – Death of a Nation and Fahrenheit 11/9 as himself

Bruce Willis – Death Wish as Paul Kersey

Worst Director:

Etan Cohen – Holmes & Watson

Kevin Connolly – Gotti

James Foley – Fifty Shades Freed

Brian Henson – The Happytime Murders

The Spierig Brothers – Winchester

Barry L. Bumstead Award:  (unofficial)

(for the movie that cost a lot and lost a lot!)

Robin Hood - ($ -17,751,186)

The Happytime Murders - ($ -12,493,548)

London Fields - ($ -7,747,324)

Gotti - ($ -5,656,773)

Holmes & Watson - ($ -3,439,858)

Worst Picture:

Gotti (Vertical Entertainment) – Randall Emmett, Marc Fiore, Michael Froch, George Furla

The Happytime Murders (STX) – Ben Falcone, Jeffrey Hayes, Brian Henson, Melissa McCarthy

Holmes & Watson (Columbia) – Will Ferrell, Adam McKay, Jimmy Miller, Clayton Townsend

Robin Hood (Summit) – Jennifer Davisson, Leonardo DiCaprio

Winchester (Lionsgate) – Tim McGahan, Brett Tomberlin

Notable Snubs:  (for better or for worse...)

Venom

Solo: A Star Wars Story

Pacific Rim: Uprising

Predator

A Wrinkle in Time

The Nutcracker and the Four Realms

The Cloverfield Paradox

The Nun

The Strangers: Pray at Night

Nominations per Film:

The Meg - 1

Slender Man - 1

Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom - 1

Show Dogs - 1

Peppermint - 1

London Fields - 1

The Clapper - 1

Sherlock Gnomes - 2

Death Wish - 2

Robin Hood - 3

Fifty Shades Freed - 3

Winchester - 4

Fahrenheit 11/9 - 4

Death of a Nation - 4

Holmes & Watson - 6

The Happytime Murders - 6

Gotti - 6

Tentative Schedule for Movies and write-ups:

Ideally, I’d like to save the movies with the most nominations for last.  Making a video per movie would take too long, so I’ll just do quick bullet-point write-ups of what I thought of the movie and their nomination in their specific category.  I’ll get these write-ups posted as soon as possible, even with Saturdays looking to be pretty grueling!

(NOTE:  I’m gonna pass on watching Death of a Nation and Fahrenheit 11/9.  They’re too political, too divisive, and know there’s nothing to be gained by reviewing them, so I’ll take the high road.)

The Meg - Friday, January 25th 

Slender Man - Saturday, January 26th

Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom - Saturday, January 26th

Show Dogs - Sunday, January 27th

Peppermint - Friday, February 1st

London Fields - Saturday, February 2nd

The Clapper - Sunday, February 3rd

Sherlock Gnomes - Friday, February 8th

Death Wish - Saturday, February 9th

Robin Hood - Saturday, February 9th

Fifty Shades Freed - Sunday, February 10th

Winchester - Friday, February 15th

Holmes & Watson - Saturday, February 16th

The Happytime Murders - Saturday, February 16th

Gotti - Sunday, February 17th

Catch-up days: Tuesdays

FINAL PREDICTIONS:  Friday, February 22nd!

39th Razzie Awards: Saturday, February 23rd

Best of Luck to all of the movies selected and any other movie fans who choose to read this blog.  Feel free to join in with your predictions, if you’d like!  It’ll be an interesting month of movies, that’s for sure!