#there are so many things so deeply wrong with that movie and I love it

[ghostbusteryaoi]

hey so i watched stripes

[the-2nd-random-kid]

So i heard that the orv movie is real

[angelbarelywrites]

♡ slashers scenarios | first meeting

info;

♡ fandoms; The Boy, House of Wax, Halloween, Hannibal, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, slashers (general), DBD

♡ characters; Brahms Heelshire, Vincent Sinclair, Micheal Myers, Hannibal Lecter, Thomas Hewitt

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡ cw; mentions of blood/violence

The most random array of characters. All 5 are my bfs tho. Also this is written very very informally because it was originally just for myself lol.

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Brahms Heelshire//

> approximateplotofthe movie. jpeg

> honestly you mind your own business once you realize it’s a doll but assume there’s cameras so mostly behave

> you find yourself naturally coddling his doll like a real child when you’re bored, speaking to him constantly

> even though you’re not doing much to upset him, weird things do start happening around the house

> he mostly wants attention

> you leave a note one day

> “dear brahm’s ghost; i’m sorry if i’m not doing a good job as a nanny. i’m really trying my best. I hope we can be friends”

> he scribbles a smiley face on it and you’re a little freaked out / excited

> when he finally shows himself you’re really stunned. but it makes more sense than a genuine ghost

> you’re in such shock that you just. keep going with the evening and make dinner.

> but even once you come to your senses, you end up more sad than scared

> “…they left you all alone. I’m so sorry.”

> he gives you puppy eyes

> “…I won’t do that to you. I promise. I’m staying.”

> he’s even more in love with you than he first thought. even if you’re going to make him shower six times before bed.

> to his chagrin you don’t help him bathe

> but you do kiss him goodnight

Vincent Sinclair//

> bo brings you to him

> at first he’s making some big deal, “special delivery” and all that

> you’re cute

> really cute

> and bo clearly knew you’re the kind of person vincent would like

> but he’s still got a job to do

> damn it

> “h-hey- wait- i can help you—?”

> that makes him hesitate

> “i’m an artist too. i can help with the sculptures. “

> …

>“i’ll be good. promise.”

> he didn’t need much more convincing than that

> bo is surprised he kept you but makes damn sure you’re not escaping

> but you don’t even try because you just feel so deeply for vincent, and he’s so gentle

> you weren’t lying about being an artist so you’re genuinely helpful

> he falls madly in love when you help him resculpt his mask

Micheal Myers //

> Meet because you wrote letters to him

> Not to interview him or as an obsessive fan

> At first out of curiosity, then as a sort of way to vent, because he never responds

> But as it turns out your letters are the only ones he keeps or even opens at this point

> So his psychologist wants you to meet him to see if you can get him to open up- of course there’s a cash incentive

> He doesn’t say a word from the other side of the glass.

> Obviously.

> But you treat it like a normal visit to a friend and just chat mindlessly a while

> And you’re so much tinier and cuter in person

> He wants to stab you so much

> But realizes that if he killed you, he might miss you

> Ew that’s a scary thought

> Still wants to make you scream tho uwu

> He escapes

> Because he’s Micheal Myers that’s what he does

> After his spree he finds himself in your house, bloodsoaked and honestly not all that sure what he’ll do when he sees you

> You don’t even scream, just give a tiny ‘eep’

> “…Micheal?”

> He regrips his knife so he can get it over with. You’ll just tattle

> “Oh gosh- you’re soaked from the rain. And all that blood-let’s get you a shower? I can get you some fresh clothes too,”

> He’s staring down at you in disbelief

> “…what? You thought I’d try and call the cops? I like talking to you.”

> There’s something very wrong with you

> It’s kind of hot

> He puts him knife away and follows you

Hannibal Lecter//

> you’re his patient lol

> at first he doesn’t have much interest in you outside of work

> but god, you’d be such a perfect subject to manipulate with that little authority figure problem you have

> and even though you’re young

> you do recognize some of the finer things in life

> mostly his artwork and cooking. you’re really good at inadvertently stroking his ego

> he starts diving into darker subjects in therapy

> you’re a bit of a morbid person under the sunshine-y exterior

> perfect

> he’s still chipping away at something big you’re keeping from him

> he could do some digging online and through your files but where’s the fun in that

> he gets you tipsy and then starts with the psycho babble

> you finally crack

> you killed some guy that was stalking you years ago

> god that’s hot

> you liked it, at least a little bit

> even hotter

> you licked the blood off your hands and it tasted good

> he’s in love ; good luck leaving

Thomas Hewitt //

> car trouble! it’s always car trouble

> honestly when you rock up to the gas station alone Luda Mae is thinking that it’s a shame the fridge at home is already full

> but you’re the sweetest little customer

> “your name is really pretty ma’am. ever since i was little i decided if i had a daughter, her name would be Audrey Mae”

> new plan, she’s playing matchmaker

> there’s just something about you that’s so gentle

> and mildly off-putting, like the rest of the family

> she brings you out to the farm to see if they have the car parts you need

> and to stay the night, if you really need to

> you run smack dab into Thomas in his old half mask walking in- even Luda expects you to recoil at the least

> instead you turn a bit pink

> “oh gosh- I’m so so sorry sir-“

> Thomas stares at you

> You just shyly introduce yourself, talking enough for both of you

> Luda Mae is already planning the wedding

> “That’s my youngest Tommy- why don’t you show em around? Alright baby?”

> Thomas is a bit hesitant but you’re so little and cute and smell so good—

> He’s already obsessed oops

[calmcoldevening]

Would you please write some first time sex HC with Art the Clown and a virgin female reader? How would he initiate or how would he be seeing as he’s her first?

Sure, sugar! Hope you'll like it 🍬

First time sex with Art the clown headcanons

Tw: adult content, smut, mention of blood, but mostly I tried to make it soft and comfy. No minors, sugar

• Most of the time, he has rather strange and somewhat childish ways of showing love. Although the fact that he didn't kill you already says a lot.

• Usually he just looks at you and smiles his trademark creepy smile, although in fact there are a lot of unspoken emotions hidden behind those crazy burning eyes. For you, his heart burns endlessly in a constant stream of childish joy and desire to protect.

• Art likes to come up to you while you're sitting, for example, on the couch in the living room and watching a movie, and put his head on your lap. His fingers dig firmly but gently into the flesh of your soft thighs, causing you to blush deeply and bite your lower lip. But there is nothing vulgar about it. Art just wants your gentle human warmth. Most of the time, his hands and bodies are cold, so he's crazy about the heat of your skin. Especially when you're embarrassed.

• He will be flattered by the fact that he is your first in many ways, indeed. He likes this feeling of possessiveness and an almost animal right to possess. Despite its somewhat childishness and intensity, Art doesn't put any pressure on you. He very often listens to your opinion and takes care of you in his own way.

• Art can be serious if he really wants to, and in the depths of his sadistic heart, he understands this perfectly well.

• It's not that this demon has any desire other than the feeling of itching on his skin from the desire to kill and shed blood. But over time, Art notices that he is increasingly watching couples in love. Very often, he kills teenagers or young people fucking at the wrong time in the wrong place. But he doesn't admire it in any way. He is interested in watching this. And in the place of this red-haired girl, Art involuntarily introduces you.

• Would you make the same sounds? They would probably be even more beautiful with you. What kind of face would you have at that moment? Would you moan his name or vice versa, try to hold back every gentle sound and meow?

• He was interested in getting to know this side of the human body.

• That's why, right after returning home after another murder, Art found you in the kitchen. A man came up close to you from behind and wrapped his arms around your waist with a firm grip. His lips, painted with black lipstick, instantly found your neck, kissing and gently biting the skin. You blushed instantly, feeling your heartbeat quicken.

• "Art.. What are you doing?" Of course you knew what he was doing. No wonder you often thought about this kind of dirty stuff when your boyfriend was at work. But it's one thing to dream, and another to do it. You weren't ready at all.

• Art continued to kiss your flesh, hinting at what he wants. He wanted you to show him this, to let him feel this strange feeling of two bodies together. For some reason, he was carried away by the idea that you know what to do. Or at least your body knows.

• What was his surprise when you not only did not respond to his caresses, but also quietly whimpered because of a sudden feeling of fear and insecurity.

• Art immediately stepped back and gently but insistently turned you around to face him, pressing your lower back against the kitchen set. You felt how unpleasantly the T-shirt stuck to your body from the blood that soaked it. Art will gently take your face in his hands, caressing your cheeks and wiping tears from your skin. His silent way of dumping what happened to you.

• "..scared." The only word that comes out of your mouth. After standing in silence for a while, Art finally connects all the dots and his face is decorated with a devilish grin. He leans closer, wanting to take you in another passionate embrace, but you gently push him away from you. "Please.. take the blood away."

• Art frowns and visibly sulks, but obeys, retiring to the bathroom. It gives you some time to catch your breath and mentally prepare. You're nervously biting your lip in anticipation.

• Although you desperately wanted to let your boyfriend see this side of you and show him your love, the unknown scared you. And you didn't want to disappoint him in any way. These thoughts gnawed at you in the most unpleasant way.

• When Art cleaned and dried his suit, he found you in the bedroom. His knowledge was also limited, but unlike you, because of his inhuman nature, he just wasn't afraid of something so simple. He literally killed people. And yet, the sight of you, so vulnerable and scared, made the 'heart' shrink uncomfortably, which he really didn't like.

• He came over to your bed and sat on the edge of it, looking up at you. His gloved hand took yours and pulled you into his lap. His fingers gently dug into your hips, tasting the pleasant sensation, and a satisfied grin appeared on his face. Perhaps he was trying to cheer you up somehow. You leaned forward and gently covered his lips with yours. Both of you have significantly improved your kissing skills since the last time, so his tongue alone was already making you dizzy. The kiss was slow and soft, Art's fingers gently stroking your thighs.

• After a couple of minutes, you leaned back, looking down at your boyfriend and catching your heated breath. You carefully took one of his hands with your own and put his palm on your chest, nervously biting your lip and nodding as if giving permission. Art blinked a little, but later smiled contentedly, squeezing the soft flesh under his fingers. He saw how scared and awkward you were, so he wanted to do it surprisingly carefully and slowly, although his own knowledge was limited to spying on fucking teenagers.

• Art pulled off your T-shirt, throwing it on the floor, and reverently gently ran his cold hands along your sides.

• Dark eyes burning with a primal hunger. With a swift motion, he lifts your skirt, exposing your bare thighs to his leering gaze. Art's long, pale fingers dig into your soft flesh, squeezing and kneading as if to claim you very essence.He hooks a thumb under your lacy underwear, yanking it aside to reveal the virgin petals, glistening with nervous moisture. Art's lips part in a silent, mocking grin, relishing your vulnerability. One gloved hand trails lower, fingers splaying across your slick heat as he rubs slow, deliberate circles.

• His painted mouth gently presses against your neck, leaving noticeable bite marks and black paint on your skin. He was clearly filled with a desire to mark you as his own. Art's desire grows, although the grin never leaves his face for a moment. The tension in your pants is almost painful. He carefully removes the glove from his left hand and gently runs his fingers along the curve of your heated thigh. Finally, he finds the coveted moist warmth by dipping one finger into it with a wet squish. You nervously bite your lip, trying to hold back the tears that have appeared in your eyes. Art kisses your neck and chin, caresses your sweat-soaked skin with his tongue and lips. The stretch around his fingers is so slight that Art wonders mentally how his dick would fit inside you. Without thinking twice, he dips another finger, and then another and another. Although your walls are still damn wet and hot, almost hungry.

• Art's fingers slow their rough exploration as he senses your increasing unease. He gentles his touch, caressing your thighs with tender strokes, as if trying to soothe any lingering nerves. He continues his deliberate advances, guiding one of your legs to wrap around his waist as he positions himself at your hot entrance. With a calculated slowness, Art begins to push inside, relishing each tiny resistance and the subsequent surrender of your innocence. He pauses often, allowing you to adjust to the intrusion, all while maintaining a hypnotic, unblinking stare. Once he's fully sheathed within you, Art's expression remains stoic, belying the depraved satisfaction he derives from your virgin heat and whimpers. He begins to move, setting a rhythm that's both brutal and methodical, his pale face a mask of concentration as he claims your body with a single-minded focus.

• His movements are slow, almost gentle. He gently squeezes your sides, allowing you to lean against him, and showers kisses on your face and hair.

• Gradually, his movements accelerate, his brain melts from the thrill of such a hot moment. But his mind is still focused on you. The way you sound, the way you feel, the way you feel good. He feels you pulsating and shrinking around him, and tries to rub as hard as possible against that strange point inside you from which, as he realized, you see the stars. Despite his inhuman nature, he was surprisingly absolutely focused on wanting to please you. He wanted you to feel good only with him. To make you feel good.

• When you cum around his cock with a short moan, Art gently presses you to him, splashing streams of hot semen into you and just catching his breath. His lips are kissing your neck, and his hand is stroking your wet hair. His way of saying 'good girl.'

[jirsungs]

first halloween... gone wrong? | dms drabble #4

word count: 1.6k words

synopsis: halloween was never your favorite. you would choose christmas over it in a heartbeat, but with your dorky drummer boyfriend who absolutely loves it never leaving your side, you might just tolerate the spooky holiday. (set in the drum me, stupid universe but can be read as a standalone!)

warnings: a knife is mentioned, the dms!couple is flirty and GROSS, but most of this is just fluff.

a/n: HIIII 😭 jirsungs nation, rise! it's been 2 weeks since any story related post has been uploaded, and i just want to deeply apologize for not being here ): i missed writing and putting my delusions down in a google doc. but i hope you guys enjoy this short drum me stupid drabble and missed these cutie patooties as much as i did ☹️ as always, feedback is ALWAYS loved and appreciated! happy reading <3

You were never fond of Halloween. Sure, you loved being able to go all out in costumes and go to Halloween parties with your friends, but you knew immediately that once those plans were over, you were left in your own accompaniment once again.

Some people would be joyful with spending the rest of their nights after parties and such alone, but you? You were used to the party scene and loved it when it never ended. Lucky for you, your dorky boyfriend of a few months, Park Jisung, always kept the party going.

“Hey, have you guys seen Ji?” You asked Ningning and her boyfriend, Jeno, after finally spotting them dancing together on the dance floor. Your voice was louder than usual due to Michael Jackson's Thriller bumping from the party speakers.

“No, we thought he was with you." Ning looks over to Jeno. “I thought he came with you and the guys.”

You both wait for Jeno's reply, but he just shrugs. “He was supposed to, but he was the last one to get ready. If anyone knows where he is, that's Chenle.”

You click your tongue. “I figured. I'm going to keep looking for him. Thanks, guys!”

Ning’s shout of “Good luck!” was the last thing you heard before you committed to walking through the crowd of musty bodies. You were surprised at how many people went all out on their Halloween costumes this year. Your surprise wasn't a bad thing though; if anything, you loved it.

You almost second-guessed your choice of costume. With you and Ning being the only girls in the group, you felt that it was right if the both of you matched. The angel costumes were cute; you were wearing a black tight dress while she wore white, but taking a look at the decided costumes this year, you began to feel basic.

Once you're out of the crowd, you spot Haechan, Mark, and Yeonjun in the corner. You take notice of Yeonjun trying his best to impress some girl while the two boys next to him silently judge, taking occasional sips out of their red solo cups. 

Haechan, in his Pennywise makeup and attire, sees you walking towards them, tilting his head at your costume. “What are you supposed to be? A demonic angel?”

Mark snickers at his friend's comment, which you pout at. “No. I'm just an angel who happens to wear black. And says you, Pennywise, isn't your costume like... super basic?”

Haechan gasps, his hand on his chest for the dramatic effect. Mark rolls his eyes and answers your question instead.

“Every year, the Rockway guys do a group costume. This year, we somehow decided on iconic horror movie killers.” 

“Ahhh… So, that explains your Leatherface mask.”

With a nod of his head, Mark replies with a “Yup.”

You glance back at the party, and the sudden remembrance of why you came up to them in the first place hits you. “Oh! By the way, have you guys seen Jisung? I literally can't find him anywhere.”

Your body physically sulks at their answers, telling you they haven't seen him in a while. With your hope slowly decreasing and the urge to ditch the party increasing, you decide to call him one last time. If he doesn’t answer, you’ll cut the party short and head home, unfortunately finding the comfort of your bed more enjoyable than being here. You loved the company of your friends, but it bummed you out that you haven’t seen your boyfriend all night after him telling you that he’ll be here.

After bidding your goodbyes to the group and giving Jeno the responsibility to get Ning home safely, you make your way to your car. It's late October with the breeze finally coming through, resulting in you rubbing your arms in hopes for warmth. As you walk, your ears pick up on the sounds of your heels clicking against the sidewalk cement until they pick up another pair of footsteps near you. At first, you don’t sweat it, already aware of the scattered groups outside of the frat. 

But as you walk more down towards your car, the shuffling footsteps don’t leave you. Okay, you’ve had enough of this. Your slight irritation was slowly increasing due to this sudden interruption of your plans to waste the rest of your night away by changing out of this angel get-up and watching comfort films.

The only person you craved to see you in this costume was nowhere to be found, anyway. Finally turning around, you face the person but stay near your car for safety reasons.

“Who are you, and why do you keep following me?” You ask.

You didn’t mean to have your words come out sharply, but when you found out your culprit to be someone in a Ghostface costume, it only made you roll your eyes.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but if you’re just here to mess with me, is it okay if you can choose someone else? I really don’t have the energy for this.”

A beat passes and still no response from the person. It was almost as if their feet were stuck in the cement; you were starting to feel chills at the creepy mask staring back at you. But then, your brain starts to put the pieces together.

The replay of what Mark told you earlier back at the party plays in your head. “Every year, the Rockway guys do a group costume. This year, we somehow decided on iconic horror movie killers.” Would it be a coincidence that Jisung, who you haven’t seen all night, just happens to be right in front of you?

Your face softens at the thought of the mysterious Ghostface being your boyfriend. “Ji, baby, if that’s you, I’m going to smack you. Where have you been all night? I called you three times.” 

Still no answer, but now they were slowly walking towards you, revealing what they were holding behind them to be a knife. From where you’re standing, you couldn’t tell if it’s real or a fake replica, but that doesn’t stop your grip on the driver seat handle tightening, ready to pull on it and get the hell out of here. 

But you try one last time. “Okay, quit it. This isn't funny.”

By this point, the wondering thoughts of whether this was Jisung or not cloud your mind. You’re now close to each other, and the Ghostface still hasn’t said anything. 

You know what? Fuck it! You’re not dying today! 

You tug the car door open, ready to rush inside, but the masked John Doe shuts the door before you can. Their gloved hand doesn’t budge on the door, making their body lean against it and impossible for you to get inside.

The fact that they haven’t shoved the knife into your body by now has you suspicious and less frightened, but more agitated. Finally, they remove the mask from their face, revealing— 

“Hi, pretty angel.” 

Your stupid, cheekily smiling boyfriend. 

He has no time to lean in and give you an apologetic kiss on the lips before you smack him on the chest and punch his arm. “You motherfucker!”

“Ow! What the hell was that for?” 

Your eyes squint at him asking you that, resulting in another punch to his arm. “Don’t ‘what the hell was that for’ me! You scared the shit out of me!”

You’re about to smack his chest again, but Jisung’s reflex hits faster than yours. Not giving you another opportunity to hit him, he’s quick to take hold of both of your wrists, which you immediately try to get out of. You hate (love) how strong he’s been getting. With his constant drumming and going to the gym with the guys on the side, it became more and more difficult for you to get out of his grip. 

With your hands unable to move, he takes the chance and plants quick kisses all over your face. Your face flusters quickly with you trying to move away from his lips. He knows he got you when your tugging to get out of his hands stops and you start giggling.

“Ji, stop it!” Your giggles only increase when his kisses do, leading him to drop your hands and place his on your waist instead. 

“I missed you. I’m sorry I didn’t answer; I wanted to keep up the bit of scaring you.” He says after giving you a big cheek kiss and pulling you closer to his chest.

You can’t stop the giddy smile forming on your face. “It’s okay. Just never scare me like that again or I will—” you point your pointy finger on his chest, almost in warning, creating some space between you two, “cut your balls off.” 

But he pays no mind to your threat, smiling down at you like a loser in love. “Yes, ma’am. Never again.”

You encircle your arms around his waist, looking up at him doe-eyed. “Now, can we please go home and watch comfort movies?” 

“Can I first admire how fuckin’ gorgeous you look in this and then go home?”

Oh. You forgot you had this costume on.

Your cheeks heat up at his words. “Language, Park. You could’ve admired this all you wanted earlier if you didn’t leave me alone the whole night.”

He pouts, “Will I at least see this costume some other time, baby?”

"Hmm.” You pretend to think. “I guess, you just have to wait and see.”

“Why wait when I can see it on you tomorrow?” There's a glint in his eyes, and you know it can only mean trouble.

“Easy, drummer boy.”

Little did he know that his almost insulting prank on you sparked an idea in your head. But it’s best to save that for next year, right? 

You guess, with Park Jisung by your side, you wouldn’t mind waiting another year to see what other Halloween pranks he has in store for you.

[icarusredwings]

Thinking about Logan adjusting to this new timeline, becoming sober, and Wade somehow finding Logan's dog tags. ~4k words.

(Tw: Logan's a depressed recovering alcoholic with survivor guilt, unofficial proposal, canon usual implied sex jokes, Logan tries to flirt but fails)

To my wife. Who's halo lit up my dark life to see just how many doors were available to me when I couldn't see them myself<3

He offers him his to wear as a cutesie matching necklace type of thing but Logan is hesitant to take them, scared of what will come of it. He does it anyway though because he sees how happy Wade is wearing his.

What he refuses to tell him though is that just hearing the tags jingle makes him jump, flinch, his heart rate rises, and his mind floods with scenes he's worked so hard draining every bar he could find dry just so he could forget.

For me, I, too, am a man with deeply rooted animal instincts and was raised to behave like an obedient pet instead of the animal they made me.

An animal trained to take orders. A soldier without his post is miserable and constantly is either trying to find it again or defend himself from ever having to go back to a post to begin with.

You aren't good enough for them if you obey what they say and excel past the standards. But you aren't good enough if you question their authority and make choices for yourself either. Hoizer comes to mind.

Running with the bulls

Working my miracles

Holding my world together with a boot string

His night terrors are worse, more frequent, constantly a battle between wanting to protect and defend the less fortunate to saying, 'No, I'm done with that. It's none of my business, It’s someone else's problem now.'

He wakes up screaming, claws drawn, every possible sense he has to run activated, panting, gasping almost for air. He's panting, heaving deep but quick breaths, all of the hairs on his arms raised like a cat who just heard a dog barking after having gotten attacked as a kitten.

Living the dream

Benzos and gasoline

Coffee and blue light screens till the morning

He wakes to the sunlight in his face, gets up, stretches, takes his Valium. Eats some toast, calls it breakfast, gets dressed for his weekly AA meeting. The moment he steps inside it smells like Gasoline. Sweet honey scented lies that he hates to admit that he knew all too well. ‘It was only one’ ‘I asked for a virgin one but they brought me the wrong one’ ‘I'm trying, I really am..it's just.. hard’ He's heard them all before but the last one he could relate to the most.

Coming home at night, Logan puts his face into the back of his partner's neck, hugging him from behind as he offers to watch a cowboy movie marathon with him. He barely eats, only taking what Wade gives him or shoves in his mouth like the now spilled popcorn that was all over the ground, His boyfriend sprawled out on the couch while the “Dvd” bounces back and forth on the blue screen.

Wade never likes it but recently he's been drinking coffee at night, pacing back and forth as he searched online for a job. Kept himself far from the nightmares that were trying to catch up with him.

If I tell you this is drowning

You tell me I'm walking on water

I could bring fire from the mountain

You tell me it feels a little colder

Everyone was telling him how good he was doing, how well he was adjusting, how happy they were that he was here and yet.. He didn't feel like he deserved it. Any of it. Not the second chance, not the love and support of all his new family, not the affection from the man who whispered how proud of him he was each night..

It doesn't help his mental status when multiple jobs reject him either. Interviews don't exactly go that well when you have claws for hands and a reputation for having a temper.

“I'm sorry we're looking for someone with more… experience.. in this field. You need an entry level job.”

“Woah dude! You are WAY too qualified to be working here! you should try looking for something higher up, yeah?”

“I'm sorry. You're too much of a liability.”

“Oh my god- You're the Wolverine!”

“Yes.. but uhm.. No.. I'm just Logan now.”

“Wait, why are you applying here? This is a cashier position.”

“I'm aware..”

“Aren't you like… an X-men?”

“N-no… not anymore.”

“Oh… Did they fire you?”

“I quit.”

“Why?”

“Are.. these questions part of the interview?”

What kind of man was he if he couldn't even get a damn job at McDonald's? It felt useless. Like everybody wanted something different from him, but no one was happy either way. Never pleased with his resume or his reputation. You would think being an ex X-man would make it easy. Of course someone would want to hire a superhero? Right? Wrong.

I don't wanna

Choose between being a salesman or a soldier

Just let me look a little older

It seemed everyone wanted him to rejoin the X-men and as much as he missed that mansion upstate, it wasn't his. So many times he's been told stories about himself that he didn't even remember …well.. because it wasn't him. They wanted The Wolverine.

Their Wolverine.

Not Logan.

There was always that spot at the dealership with Peter. Now that Wade was back on his role with mercenary stuff and doing more “Favors” with Colossus, Negasonic and Yukio, that position was open. Part of him- No. Scratch that. All of him was happy for Wade. He seemed to be enjoying life so much more now that he felt he had purpose. But what was his purpose? Selling cars?? Definitely not. Even if it was, they were looking for something else anyway.

“It says here that you are 286 years old. Is that a typo?”

“Oh- uhm… No..”

“I see…Well we are currently looking for someone… younger.. to fill that spot. Sorry.”

But they were never actually sorry. He could smell it.

Coming home from the failed hunt, he felt like an older lion losing its pride to a younger male lion. Well- if lions could develop arthritis in their knees and hands. Once a day he'd pop out his claws, just to keep them ready though he felt like he hadn't used them in such a long time… Maybe he really was turning into an old house cat like wade said.

Sitting in their shared bedroom, he was grumbling to himself, grunting as he tried to get his claw unstuck. This wasn't the first time they locked up and he feared it wasn't the last either.

He snapped his head up at the sound of tags. Around the corner came who he expected, Wade, quickly hiding his hand under the blanket. Coming in, his eyes widened.

“Woah wolvie! Without me? Really? I would have gladly done it for you.”

At first Logan wanted to thank him for offering to help before quickly realizing that from how his hand was under the blanket, it did look suspiciously like adult alone time.

“T-that's not… no.”

“M'kaay. If you say sooo~”

“H-how uhm.. How was work?”

Watching as he began to grab shower clothes and take off his mask, He smiled.

“Oh you know! Watching the life drain from peoples eyes and what not as they beg for their life! The usual.”

“Oh.. that's.. fun?”

“Extremely liberating stuff.”

Watching as he began to strip, He swallowed, wishing he'd leave already so he could finish shoving the claw back into his skin.

Let me step a little bolder

I don't wanna

Choose between being a butcher or a pauper

“You wanna take a shower with me?” He asked, Beginning to walk around butt naked in nothing but his tags.

“U-uhm… No. No thanks, I had one this morning.”

“D'awwww what? Worried i'll see your peanuts? News flash baby, I've had those things down my throat! And I will say. They're better salty anyways~”

All this teasing changed his monotone face into a small goofy smile as he came close, crawling up into his lap, taking hold of his cheeks as he kissed his nose.

“What's wrong? Did you not get the job?”

He was so envious of how he could say such dirty things. Wade was so confident and yet so shy about his face. It made him think of when he was that confident in himself too. (Probably overly confident if we're being honest) Oh that was so many years ago… he'd never get that back. And honestly? He wasn't sure if he wanted to.

Logan said nothing but it was all the answer wade needed.

“I see. Well you'll get’em next time, Right?”

He looked away. Ashamed. Here Wade was, being overly supportive, giving him everything, and still he couldn't find a single happy bone in his body.

Shifting his leg to reassure him more, His knee was placed on the claw, yipping. “Ouch!”

“Sorry! I… I can't.. i-it won't..”

And on top of all that, he just hurt him. Man he sucked at this. All of it. Every little bit of it.

Pulling his hand away, Logan's eyes looked over Wade just as quick as it happened, Trying to see if he was bleeding only to jolt.

“Hey- shh.. Calm down. You're alright.” Grabbing his wrist, he carefully moved the tags that had gotten stuck on the claw.

“What's got you all riled up, Kitty? The interview couldn't have been that bad.”

But what he didn't know is that it WAS that bad.

Instantly Logan broke down, breaking heavily as he began to sob, gritting his teeth as he put his non-stuck hand on his face, wanting to hide. He felt pathetic. Useless. Weak. All of the things he fought not to be.

“Ooh, Honey come her-” Wade reached a hand out, trying to console him only to be shoved away.

“Don't!! I-.. I'm tired of hurting people! That's not who I want to be!”

“Baby cakes, it was an accident-”

“No!! Eveyone wants the Wolverine until the fucking wolverine is actually acting like the Wolverine!” He shouted, trying not to choke on his own tears.

Tilting his head, Wade blinked as if he wasn't aware of what he was talking about, but why would he? Logan hasn't told him anything negative for the past 2 weeks. Keeping it all bottled up, trying to push it deep down but that wasn't him. He couldn't handle it anymore.

“Everyone just keeps saying I should join the X-men again and i-” Wilson put his hands on his shoulders, looking at him with the most serious he has ever been in his entire life.

“Logan, If that's what you want we'll make it work. It's only an hour drive, and i'm sure I could visi-”

“Wade!! Shut. Up! I don't…” He trailed off, shaking his head as he began to apologize, whispering he was sorry for yelling at him.

“I-it's not your fault.. I.. I don't..”

Wade was patient, Nodding, encouraging him to open up with his words. He knew when it was time to zip it and let him talk. Now was one of those times. It was his turn to listen.

“I don't want to fight anymore. I didn't want to fight to begin with but… It's the only thing I'm good at. I'm not good at anything else.. My whole life I've just been jumping team after team and they all eventually die or I just get kicked out for not understanding the power of team work or whatever. Hell, I've been through three different wars and every single time I ran away! Like a damn dog with its tail between its legs! All except the times I was TOLD to run and I didn't. Fuck, Wade! 3 fucking wars and I can't even take orders right!!”

Honey, I'm taking no orders

Gonna be nobody’s soldier

It was now Wade's turn to try to stifle a laugh, snorting as he covered his mouth.

“What's so fucking funny?! That your boyfriend is a sad pathetic loser who can't even get his hands to listen to him!?”

Now he burst out laughing, starting to giggle.

“You're over here talking about not being able to take orders and not being good enough for a team while talking to the same guy who can't even GET on a team and was kicked out of Canadian special forces because I didn't listen to a single thing they said! And you think I care if you ‘can't take orders’ ??” He said this last part in a mocking tone, trying hard to be serious but couldn't.

Logan's eyebrows scrunched with a skeptical glare, tears still dripping down his face, feeling embarrassed and stupid.

Cupping his face again, Wade smiled ear to ear, their foreheads together. “You're much dumber than the comics make you out to be if you think I'd care about anything like that. You honestly think I'd care if you don't want to be anyone's soldier? Why do you think I'm my own boss? The world isn't built for guys like us, baby. And if you wanna open a coffee shop or- pursue your dreams of photography, or hell! Even bird watching for all I care, I will still love you. We will make it work. No matter what you choose to do. Even if you don't get a job at all. Do you understand?”

The man started into his eyes, seemingly frozen as he processed all that he said.

“Logan..”

“Hm?”

“You gotta nod hon, we've talked about this.”

Slowly nodding, indicating that he understood, the tears got thicker as he pulled himself into Wade's shoulder, sobbing more.

“Oooh There there… There's my big strong man..” Wrapping his arms around him, he was careful of the single knife still out. Sitting him up, he rubbed the side of his face as he kissed the other cheek, only to gasp.

“GAASSSPP!! Peanut!”

“What!?” His grip tightened around his waist as he looked around urgently, immediately sniffling and starting to wipe his eyes.

“You're getting greys!” He coed, reaching up to pluck a single gray hair from the beast, who flinched. “Ouch..”

Leaning back, Wade held the hair in front of his face, His smile still wider than ever.

“You're turning into A silver fox, wolvie!”

“W-what?”

“Ooh I bet you're gonna be so handsome! Eehh!” Hugging him again, tight around his neck.

Blushing, He wasn't sure what had just happened. How him venting and crying out of the rage he felt to Wade fangirling over one of his single hairs.. though.. I guess it made sense for your bald boyfriend to monitor yours. Wade has even made him start using a fancy shampoo that made his hair a lot softer, curlier, and Less greasy.

“.. you..You're excited that i'm getting old..??”

“Duh! I've always wanted to be a hot silver daddy's sugar baby!”

“What does that even mean?”

“Don't worry about it- Oh hey look! Your claw went back in.”

Looking at his hand, he made a fist and opened it a couple of times, blinking, oblivious. “...How did you do that?”

But what he didn't realize is that the stress was flowing out of him, and the relief that Wade seemed to be obsessed with him no matter what had calmed him down enough for it to slide back in itself.

“I didn't do anything, sweetheart. You opened up. Let it out. All that stress isn't good for you, you know. How do you think I ended up looking like this?” He joked, giggling.

For some reason, He laughed too, finding this a bit funny.

“Do you feel better? Hm?”

“Nngh..”

“I'll take that as a yes.” The naked man whispers, kissing him with his arms lazily on his shoulders, glad that he was able to cry in front of him. Twas a very manly thing to do and there was no one more manly than the Wolverine himself.

“Alright. I'm gonna go shower. I stink worse than you do after being out in the rain.” You know, wet dog and all. Pulling away, there was a clang and a tug at both of their necks, the tags becoming stuck together, making wade smirk more. “I think these tags don't want me to go.”

Quickly frowning, Logan swallowed, moving to take his off, pulling up his hand as he held it, putting the tag inside of it, closing his fingers.

“Wha..I-... what are you doing?”

“Wade.. I..” He sighs, looking away with a nervous pout, Grunting a bit from frustration. Why did words have to be so difficult?

“Are you breaking up with me?!”

“What!? No! I-.. I don't..”

See what Logan didn't know was that Wade had viewed these as promise rings, the equivalent of engagement even but he was okay with never actually getting married. As long as he got to wear the dress in his closet and dance with him he wouldn't mind if it was legal or not. He understood fully that not everyone wanted to marry the stage 4 cancer patient whose skin looked like turkey bacon that was somehow raw and burnt at the same time.

“You don't what? Do you.. want something else? We can get rings! Do you want rings?” shifting to sit closer to him, Wade was obviously becoming upset about this, untangling the tags and looking at him with those big brown puppy eyes.

“Rings…?”

He could see the gears in his head trying their best to turn as he thought what he meant.

“How would we make them into rings?” He finally asks and to Wade, this was basically a proposal.

Sitting up more he began clapping excitedly the same way he did when seeing puppins again about 8 months ago. “Eeh!! Yes!!”

His head turns, Giggling. “I would've taken it in front of the subway like Sanda Bullock but this works too!”

Logan, like a dumb ass, looked too, knowing full well he wouldn't see anyone but still always looked anyway. “Who??”

“Oh I'll show you later! What size are you?”

“In rings?”

“No, your cock, Of course in rings!”

“Hey now- I never agreed to a cock ring, Wade. No.”

The serious tone and the way he pointed his finger at him made him laugh more, taking his hand as he kissed it. “We'll figure it out. Okay so after my shower, I'll call a guy I know. I think Forge would do a much better job but I feel like he'd say no.” He began rambling about how cute they would be and how excited he was, climbing off of his lap (finally) and started to walk off.

“W-wade!” He called, swallowing again, nervous to ask him to listen.

“What? You wanna come shower?”

“No- well.. maybe but..”

Again he waited, rocking back and forth on his heels, trying his best to be patient but it was hard not talking for 0.5 seconds.

“It's not that.. I don't like them. It's just.. I got those a long long time ago.. and I don't want to be the man those belonged to. Not anymore. And it's not that I don't think about rejoining all the time, it's just.. I want to live my life the way I want too. Charles always said that at the end, we'd get to live how we deserve. That's my time. My time is now. I want to sit on a porch somewhere out west and watch the horses graze. I wanna sit around doing nothing with Puppins in my arms. I want… I want to be with.. with you.”

He admitted, and for once Wade was the one speechless.

“I don't want you to visit. I want to live with you. But not here. I want to go somewhere quieter. Somewhere I can just be.. Logan..”

Putting a hand on his chest as he explained, he didn't see his smile move, not a smidge, watching as he bit his lip and covered his mouth trying to stay quiet until he was done.

“Of course I still want to help people though! Protect them from other worse people… I'm just tired of being someone's toy soldier all the time. I want to do what I think is right but.. also have time to listen to you sing when cooking and take Puppins to the dog park. I want to protect..Us.” Yeah. That felt right. Us. Both of them, all of them. Together. His family.

“B-besides.. If I became an X-men again I don't think I could do it. I could barely sleep back then thinking about all the screams.. the people I couldn't help. I don't think I would be able to get over the fact that I can't save everyone… But I definitely want to try to at least save a few people. Take care of them… all of them. Even if they don't think they need help.” He smiled a bit, taking a huge breath as the stress was relieved from his shoulders.

“Alright you can talk now because I'm never doing that ever again, that was super embarrassing.” He muttered, flushed as he looked down at his lap.

The second he gave him permission to speak, Wade screamed, a scream that made Logan's eyes widen and look at him with a slow blink. “....what was tha-”

Immediately he was pulled up from the bed, picked up and squeezed tightly as he jumped around. Grunting some, he held on tight, feeling a little nauseous. Sometimes it was easy to forget how strong he was.

Still screaming, Wade was extremely excited about all that was just said, Logan admitting that he wanted a serious future with him was a lot better news than he could have ever wished for.

“Put me down!... Wade!... I'm gonna throw up!” He said, whining that he was given uppies non consensually. Even he couldn't help but laugh though in response to his giggles. God that laugh was so annoying and yet his world would feel pointless without it.

Putting him down, Wilson grabs his cheeks, petting his beard. “Ooh Logan.. I don't need protection.. because I can't get pregnant. But if I ever find out that I can, I'll definitely hire you.” He jokes, causing more blushes as his hand comes up to Wades, nuzzling into it for a moment.

“You know what I mean…”

“I do. And while I won't stop you, how about you be your own soldier for a bit? Tell yourself how to live. Not anyone else. And i'll be behind you, wearing a shirt with your ugly mug on it, supporting you the whole way. Got it?”

“Aye! I'm not ugly!”

“No you are not! I've barely been home for 20 minutes and am already so wet. I haven't even taken a shower yet “ he mumbles casually as he begins walking away.

“Heh.. Hey…erm Wade?”

“Yes, love?” Just about to leave the room, he turns, smiling gently at how talkative his fiancé was.

Logan blushes more. “I uhm.. If I'm nobody's soldier… can your name be nobody?”

Wade looks confused at first, now it's his turn to figure out what he was saying.

“Cause.. if your name is nobody then i'd be.. nevermind.” Waving A hand, he glanced at his shoes, stuffing his hands in his pocket having just fumbled that line completely.

Within seconds, Wade was back in that room, giving him the sloppiest, deepest kiss that was available, kissing him all over.

“Oh Logie! You're so sweet! But leave the flirting to me, mkay? I don't need you throwing your back out trying too hard.” He pats his chest, grabbing his hand as Wade drug him by the wrist.

They both laugh as they enter the bathroom, closing the door with a click.

[tossawary]

The last time that I rewatched "The Fellowship of the Ring" (extended edition, of course), my favorite new detail that I noticed is that the characters, once they set out on their journey, are pretty much always traveling from screen-left to screen-right.

It had been a few years since I'd seen the films and I'd learned more about filmmaking in that time. I'm completely biased regarding the LOTR films; they're not perfect, but I grew up on them, I love them. I was trying to take notes on all of the little details that made the world of the films seem so rich and so enchanting to me. The camerawork, character staging, and editing is one of the many things that just happened to jump out at me at this time.

When Frodo and Sam are leaving the Shire, the camera is set up in such a way that they start on the left side of the screen (<- that side) and travel across it to the right side of the screen (-> that side).

This way to go the farthest you've ever been from home. ->

As the hobbits travel from Bree to Rivendell, as the Fellowship travels from Rivendell to the Misty Mountains, all of those gorgeous scenic shots of the Nine Walkers show them moving from screen-left to screen-right. I haven't rewatched the entire trilogy lately, but in "The Fellowship of the Ring", it is so beautifully consistent.

There are a handful of reasons why this is done. In staging and editing, consistency regarding where the characters are placed on the screen is a storytelling tool. For example: the "180 degrees rule" says to generally keep the camera on one side of the characters within a scene, so that the audience can mentally keep track of the characters within the environment and focus on the action/dialogue. If we're watching two characters talking in a diner, even in the close-ups, one character will usually be kept on screen-left and be shown facing screen-right, and the other will be kept on screen-right and be shown facing screen-left. It feels stable. (People will sometimes choose to break the "180 degrees rule". It can be a tool to create a sense of disorientation and/or instability in the audience.)

In "The Fellowship of the Ring", the maps that the audience is shown of Middle Earth tell us that the Shire is located in the West (left side of the map) and everything else of relevance (Rivendell, Moria, Rohan, Gondor, Mordor) is East (right side of the map). As the characters consistently travel screen-right, the audience builds up a firmer mental map of Middle Earth and can better keep track of the characters' progress on their long journey. With every step that Frodo takes towards screen-right (->), we know that he is traveling East, taking another step towards Mordor.

Left to right may also instinctively feel like the way forward in a culture that writes and reads from left to right. Regardless of which way you write: if your film establishes extremely consistently that one direction is forward, then this visual language can be used to tell the audience that something is wrong if the characters start traveling from right to left. They might be lost! It builds suspense in the visual depiction of the characters going backwards and undoing progress! This all suits the lengthy hero's journey of LOTR very well, in my opinion.

There's an old joke that knowing how anything is made ruins the magic, and another old joke that knowing anything about filmmaking makes you insufferable to watch movies with, but I've never felt that way, especially not here. How does that quote go? It's still magic even if you know how it's done. (GNU Terry Pratchett.)

I find it enchanting, honestly, that so many people can work so hard for an effect that can seem so simple. Actors, directors, camera operators, editors, storyboarders, and so many others on the crew of the films consistently placed characters, sets, and props just so! So that the audience could more easily keep track of where everyone was and lose themselves a little more deeply in the story.

It's such a simple rule! And it works so well! Left -> Right. West -> East. Shire -> Mordor. Home -> Adventure. Known -> Unknown.

I personally recommend trying to keep track of character movement across the screen in films, especially if you have any interest in visual storytelling (films or illustration or something else). It's fun! It's impossible for me to unsee, watching "The Fellowship of the Ring" now, and I think it's a wonderful piece of movie magic.

[lovebugism]

hi! not sure if you’re still taking requests but if u are may i request the prompt “it’s okay to cry in front of me, you know. you don’t have to carry this alone.” with reader comforting steve? tysm <3

bug's blurb sleepover (⁎˃ᴗ˂⁎)!

Steve tends to feel things really, really deeply.

When Nancy called him bullshit at a Halloween party and ran off with the weird kid from chemistry class a day later, he felt like it was the end of the world. His world, at least. 

He thought it was going to stick with him for the rest of his life — that she was right, that he really was bullshit, and that that truth would haunt him forever. It did. It does. It lurks over his shoulder sometimes, like a shadow or a sleeping dragon.

And when Robin’s mad at him, like mad mad, it makes him feel like dying. 

One time he overestimated how tired he was after a shift and forgot to pick Robin up after band practice. He was startled awake from his nap out of nowhere, like his brain knew he’d done something wrong, and realized he was supposed to drive her home over an hour ago. 

He found her standing with her trumpet case under the awning in a futile attempt to hide from the pouring rain. She didn’t talk to him for days — not during the drive, not at work the next day, not until he was milliseconds from groveling at her feet for her forgiveness.

But it’s different when he’s happy. He’s got you and he’s got Dustin, and he loves the two of you so much it feels like he might burst sometimes. Adoration spills from his pores like so many little rays of sunshine, leaves him a grinning and gushing thing in the place of a teenage boy. 

It’s so much worse with you, though. Because sometimes he feels like his heart beats only for you — that it follows the rhythm of your pulse, that it will stop when yours does. 

He can taste every word that spills from your mouth, the one’s coated in venom and honey alike. He can hear every sound of your soul, too. It’s the crackles of an old record player when you’re content, autumn leaves crunching when you’re angry, and the sounds of a deep, deep ocean when you’re sad.

You’re embedded into every fiber of his being. You’ve entwined yourself with him without even realizing it, tucked yourself into the outer regions of his bleeding heart with a fuzzy blanket and a good book — no sign of leaving any time soon.

He loves you hard, too hard. So hard there’s no breath without you.

So when Vecna almost kills you, it feels a little like his life is ending.

He watches you float in midair, his feet still stuck on the ground, totally helpless. 

Tears spill from your glazed-over eyes and glitter beneath streams of moonlight. Your body is slack, but your fingers tremble and your brows twitch and your chin quivers. You’re not all there, but you can feel every ounce of fear like an ice-cold bath, painful and numbing all at once. Because you know that you’re going to die. And that there’s nothing anyone else can do to stop it.

Dustin shouts for help into his supercomm, begs for Max to bring her walkman or steal the nearest boombox they see and bring it with them to Lover’s Lake. They’re too far away, though, on the other side of town in Nancy’s too slow Station Wagon picking up more hunting supplies to kill the son of a bitch trying to kill you. He knows they won’t make it in time.

Steve shakes your shoulders and shouts in your face, but you still don’t wake. He keeps a hold of you until you’re out of his reach entirely — rising and rising and rising until you’re six feet off the ground. Then he’s just begging, shouting pleas up at you, at god, at Vecna — the shriveled skin creep doing this to you. 

“Please,” he shouts to everyone and no one all at once. “Please, just— you gotta wake up, okay? I’ll be better, I’ll be so much better, I promise. I’ll listen to all the music you like, watch all the movies you want — even the ones that suck — I’ll be a better boyfriend, okay? You just— You need to wake up!”

You don’t. 

You just keep on crying, like you can hear him in whatever world Vecna’s sucked you into. Eyes fluttering, neck jerking, lips trembling. You succumb completely to the monster’s curse.

It’s Eddie that saves you.

He rushes to the stolen R.V. for his guitar, the one Steve said made him look like he was overcompensating for something, the one that’s about to save your life. “What’s her favorite song?” the boy urges as he slips the strap over his head with pale and trembling fingers.

Steve looks over at his shoulder at him. It’s hard to see through the stinging tears. “Wh— What—” He can’t form words. Or thoughts, really. The only thing going through his head is that you’re about to die, that he’s about to lose you forever. It clouds his mind like thick black smoke.

“Her favorite song?” Eddie snaps. “What is it?”

He scrambles to answer. “Uh, it’s uh— it’s Take— Take On Me… Do you know that one?”

“No,” the boy answers honestly. “But I can try.”

That’s all they can do for now. Try. Hope.

He puts his fingers to the strings, trying to find the right placements, but it’s hard when you don’t know how to play the song and you’re shaking that you’re fucking freezing. Eddie’s forced to play it by ear and tells Steve that it won’t sound exactly right and that it won’t be loud without his amp. 

It takes him a moment to find the melody, but Steve hears it the second it comes — the synth-y da-da-da-dum, da-da-dah, da-da-da-da-dum’s that were practically engrained in his psyche after he heard it on the radio the millionth time.

You weren’t as afflicted by the earworm as he was. You loved it. 

The song came out the year the two of you started dating, so all he heard for months was that catchy beat and even catchier falsetto. You played it on the jukebox when you went to the diner, popped the tape into your radio whenever he was over at your place, requested for it to be played virtually wherever you went.

You hear the song from where you’re stuck in your own head. The strums of the guitar are quiet and a little out of tune, but the uncanny notes make sense when you’re trapped in a world that isn’t really your world. Suddenly you don’t see Vecna or his claw in your face — just Steve, Steve, Steve.

He’s with you at the diner with whipped cream on his chin, making fun of you for singing to the song so off-key. He’s with you in your childhood bedroom, spinning you around and singing all the high notes with you. He’s with you at Enzo’s, the fanciest place in Hawkins for your anniversary, and slips the mini-orchestra a hundred-dollar bill to play the song for you.

Suddenly, you’re on the ground again — back in Hawkins — and gasping for breath in his arms. You can’t see him from where he’s got his face tucked into your neck, but you can feel the scarily rapid beat of his heart and the way it matches your own.

Steve sobs into you, uncaring about how loud he is or how his snot and tears stain your t-shirt. Because he almost fucking lost you. And, for a split second, he tried to think of what a life without you would look like. He quickly came up short. There was nothing — no light, no sound, no music — just darkness. A void. 

Sometimes, he thinks he would’ve died with you that night.

Vecna is dead within the next twenty-four hours after the fact. You and Nancy take turns shooting bullets in the pale patchy skin of his chest where his heart’s supposed to be while Steve and Robin throw hand-made bombs in his direction. He trips and stumbles out the window while the rotting basement erupts into flames. There’s nothing left but ashes.

Steve doesn’t feel a thing for a little while after that, just the acute urge to protect the group of you even though the boogeyman is long gone. 

He doesn’t let go of you for days, always holding onto some part of you, because he’s terrified of you slipping away again. 

He lets Dustin sleep at his place when the boy asks, but it’s for his own peace of mind more than anything else. He doesn’t let the boy out of his sight until his mom gets concerned about him. 

He drives forty-five minutes to the hospital every day for two weeks with you so you can visit Max and Lucas, always with two peanut butter jelly sandwiches for them — just in case.

He’s on auto-pilot for a while. He just keeps on taking care of everyone else because it distracts him from himself — from his own inner turmoil, from the horrors he saw that night, from the boogeyman still in his closet.

It takes you a month for you to tell him what you saw. You were a lot like him in that way, still trying to hide from it all. You would’ve been more than happy if you could squish your great big problem into a tiny little ball that you could stomp underneath your feet and forget about completely. 

But that’s not how life works. 

The thing just swells and swells and swells until it takes everything in you to stay sane.

You sit Steve down on his bed and curl into his lap — knees to your chest, head tucked beneath his chin. And you tell him about it. Everything.

You tell him that Vecna showed you Brad, the boyfriend you had before Steve. It was a replay of the last night you saw him parked at Lover’s Lake, the very same place you had been when Vecna almost took you. You’re sitting in his passenger seat and he’s trying to feel you up. “Billy’s girlfriend lets him fuck her all the time,” he gripes when you swat his hand from your thigh.

“Then maybe go fuck Billy’s girlfriend,” you shoot back. 

It’s the last thing you’d ever said to him before storming off and catching the late bus back home. He went missing the next day; his car still there, but no sign of the boy himself.

Vecna shows you everything you’d been making yourself sick over for years, tells you exactly what happened to him that night.

A demogorgon appears in thin air and snatches the boy, takes him to the Upside Down like he’s some kind of light night snack. The thing doesn’t eat him, though, just plays with its food for a while until it gets bored and lets him rot. Brad was down there, for days, beggingfor someone to save him. Help never came, though. Just the slow, slow hand of death. 

“You never even looked for him…” you recite the words Vecna said to you, voice much softer than his cruel baritone one. “You let him rot down there while you threw yourself at a boy that didn’t even want you…”

Steve eyes squeeze shut then, like he’s trying to hide from your words. It’s about as effective as those idiots in horror movies who try to hide under their bedsheets from demons.

You sought refuge in Steve that night and many others, when Brad was acting especially douchebag-y. It was innocent at first. He was your friend. But somewhere down the line, you realized that you had bigger feelings for him than you ever did for your boyfriend. Steve, meanwhile, was still caught in the web of his complicated feelings for Nancy.

It wasn’t until you got kidnapped by Russian soldiers that he realized how much he loved you.

There’s just something about the end of the world that makes a person see clearly again.

Everything seems to hit him exactly a week later. 

He’d done a pretty good job at hiding it all — the nightmares, the panic attacks, the sleepless nights. He hid that all from you because you were recovering too. He didn’t think it was fair to dump all his hurt on you while you were still trying to get back to normal.

You noticed it very quickly, though, that Steve didn’t seem to be very affected by any of it. 

He was so nonchalant about everything, the kind of casual only a person who was aching could pull off. 

And he’d get real reserved at times, uncharacteristically quiet, and you’d ask him if he was okay. He’d scoffed and say he was fine —of course I’m okay, what do you mean? — while his cheek speckled with red and he blinked back glassy tears. 

You’d try to hug him and he’d let you, but kept shrugging off your concern — I’m fine, babe. I promise. I’m not the one who almost died.

Steve did that a lot. Made it seem like his problems didn’t mean as much because they weren’t as big as yours or Max’s or Eddie’s. He convinced himself that they didn’t. Why should he be upset when he didn’t have to meet the monster face to face or live through something traumatic all over again? What does he have to cry about?

But when he sleeps all he sees in you — in that spot at Lover’s Lake, succumbing to Vecna’s curse, while the rest of them try like hell to bring you back. In his nightmares, they never do. He watches your bones break one by one, piercing cracks in the quiet night that he can feel in his chest, before you fall limply to the ground again.

He wakes with a gasping breath, the same way you had all the time ago. You’re sleeping peacefully beside him, hair wild and face smushed into your pillow, but he can’t seem to get the vision out of his head — of your mangled body and sucked-out sockets. He stumbles off to the bathroom on tired and trembling legs.

You wake to the door slamming shut and stir at the sound of the faucet turning on. 

Light spills from the crack underneath the door, bright in the darkness of your bedroom. You watch Steve’s shadow with bleary eyes, how it stands in one place for a moment and then paces back and forth.

Wiping sleep from your eyes, you tiptoe to the door, but don’t do anything when you reach it. You just wait, listen. 

Steve mumbles something to himself that you can’t quite make out — you’re okay, stop being such a baby, jesus… is all you can hear. He sniffles as his feet pad the length of the tiled bathroom floor. It doesn’t take a genius to know that he’s crying.

Your knock upon the door is a soft one. You don’t want to startle him. The second he realizes you’re outside the door, he freezes.

“Stevie…” you call gently out for him. “Are you okay?”

He clears his throat. “Yeah—” Then again. “Yeah, I’m fine… Go back to bed.”

“Are you sure?” you press. “Do you want me to get anything for you?”

The boy has to take a deep breath in to stop himself from snapping at you. He’s angry at himself more than anything — for hiding, for failing at hiding. He runs two anxious hands through his hair and plants himself along the ceramic edge of the bathtub. 

“I’m sure. Just… Just go back to bed, okay?”

You don’t listen. You just slide along the door frame until you’re sat on the carpeted floor of your bedroom. Steve can hear your shuffling outside.

“It’s okay if you’re not okay. You know that, right?” you ask him through the door.

Steve puts his face in his hands before he can catch his scrunching face in the mirror. Just when he thought he wasn’t going to cry, here you come, pulling this shit. 

“I know,” he answers tightly, muffled through his palms. He rubs them up and down his face once, twice, and then a third time before throwing his hands into his lap. “But I’m fine, okay? Seriously.”

“You can cry in front of me, Steve. It’s okay. You don’t have to— You don’t have to go through this shit alone, you know? I’m here. I’m right here, okay? Let me help you.”

It’s that reminder that does him in; the assurance that you’re here and not a disfigured mess in the tall grass of Lover’s Lake. A sob spills from his mouth too abruptly for him to stop it.

“Steve…” you call for him again, heartbreaking on the other side of the door.

“I’m almost lost you,” he cries, more than himself than to you, then sniffles. “I’m almost fucking lost you.”

“But you didn’t. I’m still here. And I’m not going anywhere, Steve Harrington. The universe is gonna have to try a whole lot harder to keep me away from you.”

He manages a laugh through his tears. “It’s not funny.”

“I’m not joking,” you quip. “If Vecna couldn’t stop me from being with you, nothing will.”

The thought of that warms him. He realizes it’s not the universe keeping the two of you together, not fate or some higher power in the clouds. It’s love. It’s all the love the two of you have got for each other, stronger than any demogorgon or Russian soldier or dark wizard. And it’s love that’s gonna hold the two of you together for the next several decades, until you’re old and wrinkly and ugly. 

But Steve won’t think you’re ugly. He’ll think you’re as beautiful as the first moment he saw you — throwing up in the bushes outside Tina’s house after your first high school party.

You rise quickly when the door opens. Steve stands in front of you, eyes puffy and face red and smiling gently down at you anyway. “I love the shit outta you, you know that?” is all he can think to say. Because that’s all that he feels in that moment.

“Of course, I know that,” you grin up at him. Your hands rise to cup his jaw, thumbs swiping at his tear-stained cheeks. Your browns pinch in concern. “You okay?”

For the first time, he’s honest.

“No…” he murmurs with the soft shake of his head. His eyes dart away from yours and to the floor where his and your twenty toes stand, still on the ground, not floating in thin air.

“No— I… I don’t think I am,” he confesses softly. His tired, sad, and heavy honey eyes flit back up to yours again. “But I will be.”

You nod until your words catch up to you. “Yeah. Yeah, you will.”

“If only out of pure spite of all the monsters to all the monsters trying to destroy our lives.”

“They’re gone now,” you promise, like a parent who’s checked under their child’s bed for shadows and ghosts. It works well enough. Here, with his face in your hands and standing in your shared bedroom, he’s never felt safer.

“Can you… Can you hold me?” he wonders, a little meekly because he feels like an idiot saying them. Then he feels even more like an idiot for feeling like an idiot. You’re his girlfriend, after all, cuddles sort of came with the package.

“Of course,” you answer without thinking twice. You grab his hand and tug him back to the bed almost immediately. “I’ll hold you for the rest of our fucking lives, Harrington, you know that.”

The two of you settle into the mattress. Steve uses you like a pillow, wraps all of his limbs around you and tucks his face into your neck. Your scent is a familiar one, warm and comforting, like home. “I like the sound of that,” he mumbles into your shoulder after a moment of quiet.

“Well, buckle in, baby. ‘Cause I got you for the next, like, six decades.”

You feel his smile form against your skin as Steve tucks himself inside your soul.

[lovestay-channie]

Hugs - Seungmin

Pairing: Seungmin x fem!reader

Genre: fluff with a lil angst

Summary: y/n is feeling touch starved, and feeling the need of some comfort. all she wants is a hug.

Word Count: 1.7k

Warning: reader feels sad, in need of comfort, reader has a crush on Seungmin,

Sometimes there are days where you just need a hug, but you don’t want to ask because it’s weird. Right? Who asks for hugs unless you need comfort, meeting someone after a long time, or saying goodbye. You can’t just ask for a hug.

Sure, maybe you did need some comfort, but someone just holding you for a moment in time sounded refreshing.

Who could you even ask to give you a hug? You thought about it for a while. The thought kept creeping back into your mind every now and then for a week. It was like your heart and soul was crying for a touch of love.

Seungmin, your best friend and secret crush, was over for a movie night. He is quite an observant person. Sometimes he could read you like an open book. It a few glances to tell how you really feel. There have been many moments in your friendship where he could tell you were in an uncomfortable situation, and he tagged along with you so you weren’t alone. He was truly remarkable.

Your eyes were laser focused into the movie, but your mind was completely elsewhere. You didn’t even notice that Seungmin was watching you half the time trying to read your mind. He was convinced something was wrong. Normally, when watching a movie, your feet are propped up on his thighs, yet instead your legs are tucked underneath you with your arms wrapped around them. You were completely on your side of the couch and not in his space.

Next thing you know, the movie is paused. You snap your head towards Seungmin, “Why did you pause?”

You didn’t expect his whole body to be facing you sitting criss cross. He had the remote still pointed to the TV. You could see his eyes examining your whole body. “Why are you looking at me like that? Do you need something?”

“Yes.”

You didn’t think he was going to answer so suddenly. You hesitate before speaking, “Okaaay? What do you need?”

“Do you swear to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth?” Seungmin asks while scooting closer to you, making you lean back.

“I’m sorry, but what the hell are you talking about?”

“I need you to promise.”

“Why?”

“Because I know you won’t tell the truth if I don’t pressure you.”

You scoff at his reasoning. He wasn’t lying, but you hated that he was right. He wasn’t trying to be pushy, but he was trying to tell you he knows something is wrong. You don’t talk about yourself. You don’t let people in because it means they can sneak into your heart. However, Seungmin sneaked in a long time ago without even trying.

“Do you need me to grab a bible or something?” you joke.

Seungmin holds up his pinky. He is one to hold pinky promises sacred. It was a special thing between the two of you. “Pinky promise me.”

You sigh deeply knowing that there was no way out of this. You shortly stare at his long pinky thinking of a way to divert his attention to something else, but Seungmin isn’t stupid. Far from it. You glance up into his eyes. They were stern yet soft. He was trying to be careful.

You adjust to criss cross as well and raise your pinky to interlock with his. “Fine. What is it?”

“What’s wrong?”

Your grip on Seungmin’s pinky tightens. All of your senses are heightened. You didn’t realize that your knees were touching his. Or how your leggings were hugging your thighs. Or how tight your ponytail was. For some reason, his question caught you off guard.

“Why?” you ask

“Just answer the question. Something's off. I can smell it,” he sniffs.

He was trying to lighten the mood with a joke. Something you admire about him.

You loosen your grip and bring your hands down between the two of you, pinkies still intertwined.

Your mind is going a million miles an hour, trying to figure out how to explain your feelings. Every way you think you can explain it, it sounds dumb in your brain. It sounds unbelievable. You have to be over reacting. Why is your brain thinking this way? Why can’t you just get over it and move on?

“Hey!” Seungmin’s voice break you out of your thoughts. “Come back to the real world please.”

You let out a breathy chuckle, “Sorry. I just… I don’t know how to explain it very well.”

Seungmin shrugged his shoulders while unhooking your pinky from his. “Try me.”

You already missed his soft touch. You knew you were incredibly touch starved to where holding pinkies made you feel safe. You so badly wanted to reach out for his hand again, but instead, you tuck your hands into your hoodie pockets.

“Do you promise not to judge me?” you question.

Seungmin gently rolled his eyes “When have I ever judged you?” You cocked your head to the side and eyes hooded as he replied to his own question. “Don’t answer that.”

You slightly smirked at his comment. You stare at the space between the two of you for a moment before gaining the courage to speak your mind. “Do… do you ever feel like you just need a hug sometimes?”

You looked up into his puppy like eyes, his head tilted slightly. You couldn’t exactly read his reaction. He looked confused, but he looked like his eyes were filled with admiration. An odd combination.

“I know you don’t like skinship, but past that, do you ever just want someone to hold you?” you explain deeper.

The silence grows between the two of you. All you could hear was your own heart beating out of your chest. The heat grew on your already rosy cheeks.  This was a mistake. He may be your best friend, but being vulnerable with him, or in general, has always been difficult.

“You know what,” you lightly chuckle in embarrassment. “Never mind! It sounds silly anyways. I don’t know even what I’m talking abo-“

Arms are suddenly secured around your shoulders, bringing you to a bony shoulder. The smell of sandalwood and musk surround you just like the arms holding you tight. You could feel Seungmin’s breath on your neck. He was so close to you. Sure, you have hugged before, but this was different. This was a hug full of love. You didn’t realize you were frozen until you felt soft fingers caressing your spine. You slowly take your hands out of your hoodie and wrap your arms around Seungmin’s waist, gripping on to him while relaxing into his body at the same time.

“Needing comfort is never silly, Y/N,” Seungmin whispers.

You bury your head into the crook of his neck from his statement. You could almost feel tears brew in your eyes, but you close your eyes to keep them from falling. Seungmin leaves a sweet, tender kiss on your temple before resting his head onto yours. He starts swaying you back and forth.

The hug lasts for what feels like forever. You could get used to this feeling, Seungmin holding you. It was nice to have someone hold you. Someone to rest upon. The world felt a little lighter, just for a moment.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Seungmin breaks the silence.

You pull away from his grasp to look up at him. He still has his arms around you, afraid to let you go. He scans your face to make sure you are okay. He takes a piece of hair that fell out of your ponytail and tucks it behind your ear. It made your heart swoon. “It’s just been tough lately. That’s all really. I’ve felt stuck. I feel like I’m not enough. Just… the same things over and over again,” you explain.

Seungmin knew well of your struggles and insecurities. Trying to do college and work can be difficult sometimes. On top of that, trying to have a healthy social life and schedule can be hectic. This is the first movie night in 3 weeks because of both busy schedules. Seungmin has been preparing for a comeback while you were in the midst of midterms. Finally having this break was nice, but it came with the overwhelming leftover feelings.

“I’m sorry,” Seungmin frowns, resting his forehead on your shoulder while his hands move to around your waist.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Min,” you reassure. Your arms adjust to wrap around his shoulders. One hand finds its ways into his soft, silky hair.

Seungmin shakes his head, “Yes I do. You were there for me all last week while you were swamped with exams, yet I didn’t do anything for you. I was so blind in rehearsals and recording sessions that I didn’t see you were struggling.”

“Oh, Min. It’s okay.”

“No, Y/N. It’s not.” Seungmin lifts his head. His face is only several inches away from your face. His eyes dart back and forth from your eyes. “You helping me was a cry for help. Taking time out of your busy week to comfort me was enough to show that you were also struggling. No sane person goes out of their way when they have too much on their plate.”

‘Well, it helps that I’m basically in love with you’ you think.

You have always been a person who helps others before yourself, especially when it comes to helping Seungmin.

“It’s honestly okay. You are here right now. That’s what matters,” you smile, patting his head.

“What can I do for you right now?” he asks.

“How about you just keep holding me? I think that will help me a lot,” you answer.

Seungmin smiles, “I can do that.”

You adjust your position to both of you lying on the couch. Seungmin’s head rests on the arm of the couch with a pillow raising it up slightly. He pulls you on top of him, legs intertwining together. Your head lies on his chest, hearing his heartbeat. Seungmin grabs the remote to continue playing the movie.

“Thank you, Min,” you whisper in his ear.

He tilts his head down to glance at you before pressing his lips to your forehead, “Anytime. I’m always here for you.”

[alottiegoingon]

fluffy alphabet

lottie matthews x reader

warnings: suggestive but nothing explicit, bad relationship with parents mentioned, no pronouns used, just fluff overall, not proofread.

there's many versions for this alphabet so i did the one i liked better :)

affection (how affectionate is she?)

a lot! i think lottie wouldn't be too affectionate at first, probably a little shy, but once she feels comfortable she's always touching you. holding your hand, rubbing your knee or arm, fixing your hair as an excuse to play with your hair. would also say "i love you" a thousand times a day.

best friend (what would lottie be like as a best friend?)

i may be canceled over this but i think lottie would find it difficult to make friends and mantain the friendship right away cause she always had a bad relationship/bad example from her parents. but when you become friends, she would be so sweet. she'd help you to study for finals, invite you over to her house, invite you to go shopping with her (aka stealing).

cuddle (how does lottie like to cuddle?)

big spoon or not, she's happy either way. cuddling after a long day could fix all her problems (maybe not all of them but it would help lots!!)

domestic (how is she at cooking/cleaning...?)

since lottie always had maids and housekeepers, she'd SUCK at cooking and cleaning in my opinion. she'd be able to burn a boiled egg! but then she'd love to learn it with you.

emotions (how does she express her emotions around you?)

lottie would be very open to share her feelings. maybe could feel a bit insecure but she trusts you well enough and you'd always comfort and reassure her.

family (does she want one?)

biiig yes! lottie has a fucked up family, let's be honest. so i think she'd be very happy to have a family of her own, much happier, healthier and supportive than the one she was born into. she'd be SUCH a great mom and wife.

gifts (does lottie like spoiling you?)

do i even have to say anything? she'd spend tons of money on you. taking you to the movies, to fancy restaurants, buying you clothes, books and whatever you need. lottie feels really good when spoiling you with gifts, she loves to see you smile and how shy you get.

honesty (does she have any secrets?)

everyone has their own secrets. for lottie, it was her medication. she felt deeply insecure about it, largely because her parents always stressed how ill she was and that something was fundamentally wrong with her. when lottie decided to share it with you, she was so scared that it made your heart break and you had to tell her multiple times about how amazing, sweet and kind she is and how wrong her parents were for saying those things. taking medication doesn’t define her (or anyone else) as flawed or damaged.

injury (how would she react if you got hurt?)

that girl would go feral if you were in allie's place and had broken your leg. if the plane had crash, she'd go crazy looking for you and making sure that you were safe and alive. during her little antler queen phase, she wouldn't let anyone get too close to you and would NEVER let you go hunt.

jealousy (is she jealous?)

lottie does get jealous but not crazy jealous (unless if she's on shrooms...). if someone was hitting on you, lottie would have her hands all over you, on your waist, hair or hands, telling the person that you have a girlfriend. if they insisted, then she'd probably be pissed and scare them off.

kiss (how does she kiss you? how does she like to be kissed?)

most of the time, she'd be a soft kisser, very gentle. unless you decided to get things a lil more intense, she prefers to kiss/get kissed in those cute slow and passionate kisses from movies. doesn't mean she doesn't like it rough tho...

love (who said ‘I love you’ first?)

that's debatable. either was you or she said it accidentally and blushed at the moment you mentioned it.

memory (what’s her favorite memory of you together?)

something really corny but adorable like spending time together under a tree just talking and kissing or the moment you first had sex/said i love you to each other. or something like meeting your parents or meeting you for the first time.

night (how are nights spent with her?)

cuddles, movies and late night talks. but before she'd help you make dinner if you lived together (she would just watch, "disturb" you by getting all touchy when you're cooking, and bossing you around).

open (when would she start revealing things about herself?)

she would not bring the meds thing up until she fully trusted you. if talking about her bad relationship with her parents, i don't think she tries to hide it since she mentioned how her dad showed affection in a poor way by getting the girls a private plane to get them to the nationals.

pet names (what pet names does she use?)

baby, angel, love, sweetheart, gorgeous, pretty girl/boy if you don't use gender neutral pronouns. she's the cutest.

quality time (how does she like to spend time with you)

anything. literally anything as long as you're with her. cooking together, reading together, shopping together!!!, just chatting and cuddling.

remember (does she remember things about you?)

lottie would remember everything you'd say to her. siblings/cousins names, first pet, first crush, favorite food, how old you were when you did something important or silly. she loves you and likes to show you how much she cares.

security (how protective is she? how would she like to be protected?)

very protective. if you were in the plane, she would've hugged you while crashing :(( if she was the antler queen, she'd constant watch you and make sure you were feeling great at all times. lottie doesn't say it out loud but she loves and needs the feeling of protection. she loves when you stand up for her, take care of her and hug her tight to protect her. (my poor girl she just have some mommy issues leave her alone >:()

try (how much effort would she puts into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

again, she loves and cares a lot. would plan the cutest dates and anniversaries and gift you with things she knows you'd love. in everyday tasks, she'd do anything to please you, including cleaning so you wouldn't have to do it after a long day at work.

understanding (how well does she know you? is she empathetic?)

this should be common sense at this point but lottie is SO empathetic. to you and to anyone else. she takes care of you and everyone, make sure everyone is safe. even during her time in switzerland (malcolm matthews im in your walls) she comforted that woman during a crisis. she's an angel.

value (how important is the relationship to her?)

you and your relationship with her means everything. she values and cherishes it so so so much.

wedding (how does she propose?)

if you were shy/reserved, lottie would know better than to propose to you in public. even if you weren't, i feel like she'd love to propose away from people's eyes. just the two of you. she had an entire speech prepared full of pretty words but was sobbing so hard that you had to help her through it. (truly believe she would like to get married surrounded by nature).

x-ray (is she able to read you?)

she knows you so well. she knows if you're happy, sad, uncomfortable, angry, upset. she can red you sooo easily and always knows what to say or what to do.

yearning (how well does she copes when separated from you)

she'd turn into a sad/annoyed mess. definitely has separation anxiety. adult lottie would handle it much better though, but would miss you endlessly.

zen (what makes her feel calm)

cuddles, hearing your voice talking about random things to distract her or help her with anxiety, calm songs, tea, romantic and cute moments, hearing about your day and telling you about hers.

[doctorcurdlejr]

Niko!! what'd you think of I saw the tv glow. I finally saw it last night and noticed you posting about it so I wanted to know your thoughts :)

Levi!!! I was JUST wondering what you were thinking about the movie after I saw you posting about it as well... we are so media discussion pilled in this way, it's awesome. ANYWAYS I've had so many thoughts since I first saw it and I've been trying to turn them into something coherent for a little bit now.

Ummm okay I have written 1k+ words about this movie, the suburbs, and escapism via teen TV.... clearly I was dying for somebody to ask this I guess so thank you for indulging me <3

First and foremost, I absolutely loved it! I've seen it twice now and the first time I watched it I got to see Jane Schoenbrun talk about the film right after. I already really liked it from that first watch alone. I found it so deeply relatable to my experiences - both in terms of growing up gay and trans, but where I am now in my 20s trying to navigate adulthood. Hearing what Schoenbrun had to say really cemented my feelings and thoughts about the film.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer was a big influence on the movie (it's why Amber Benson makes a cameo as Johnny Link's mom). Even though I don't have the same emotional link to Buffy since I never watched it, I recognize it as the same type of warmth I experienced growing up with Riverdale. When Owen says he feels like his insides have been scooped out but that he's too afraid to look and have that wrongness everybody knows is there be confirmed, Maddy simply responds "Maybe you're like Isabel. Afraid of what's inside you." Tears forming but not falling, breathing shallowly, I grabbed the paper and pen the theater keeps at the seats for people to order food with and wrote that line down - the slip of paper is still somewhere in my car. Writing it now almost feels lame in its simplicity, but it felt like my insides were being flayed open.

During the director discussion, Schoenbrun talked a little bit about this idea of how truly fucking bizarre it is to grow up in the suburbs. Like, when we think about the pinnacle of normality in American culture, it's the image of middle-class cis-hetero-white suburbia. At the same time, despite this cultural dream of normality, everybody is hyper-aware that the suburbs are one of the least normal things ever. So, the ACTUAL cultural understanding of it is that it's where we go to, like, passively kill ourselves (*George Costanza voice* WE LIVE IN A SOCIETY YOU KNOW!). This idea isn't new, I mean there are so many films and shows about navigating that specific bizarre dissonance from Rebel Without a Cause to Heathers to Twin Peaks. Probably half the pre-teen to teen TV I watched obsessively growing up, stuff like Strange Days at Blake Holsey High, Making Fiends, Truth or Scare, and eventually Riverdale, were never shy about being weird and morbid and saying "yes, the suburbs are exactly as bizarre and lethal in the ways you can already feel in your bones at 13." I Saw the TV Glow does a really good job of keying not only into that mental dissonance but more specifically into how those of us who have felt so intrinsically weird and different and wrong fell back on these shows like they were capable of doing the emotional version of a rescue breath maneuver after being drowned.

In high school, if there were two things about me that any person who even vaguely knew me could list off it was that I watched Riverdale, and I was a lesbian - and I was mocked more for the Riverdale. At that age, I was, without a doubt, the most miserable I have ever felt in my life. I rarely left the house because my family lived in a development that made me want to scratch my skin off when I walked out our front door. Owen didn't leave the house for days, afraid Maddy could somehow force him out. I sobbed constantly and frequently to depressing indie rock on the floor of my closet while hoping my family would just once read the (honest to god) KEEP OUT poster plastered on my door since I didn't have a lock on it. Owen didn't leave his room for days, afraid of what Maddy recognized in him. I didn't go on dates and kept my chest binder shoved to the bottom of my bookbag while wearing dresses that could've come from a how-to-be the perfect 50s housewife manual. Owen didn't leave his bed for days, afraid of Maddy touching his neck and Isabel's dress. I also watched Riverdale with the kind of zeal you see in a Pentecostal who has found God and started speaking in tongues to let you know it. I own a button that says, "Don't Make Me Go Dark Betty On You," I cherish it in a way that is only achieved by knowing exactly how corny and trite it is and then moving straight past that because well actually, and most people wouldn't get this, she's holding back something deeply dark and wild and- and disgusting. something painful yet intrinsically her. but i get it, obviously. or maybe not obviously! hopefully not obviously, but- basically, I'm just saying I get it: the experience of reflection and recognition through the other and all that.

Whatever, the point is that this movie is one big glaring trans allegory about how it sucks dog shit to live in the suburbs, and even at our most repressed we find these little snow globes of actualization in the glow of a tv screen that isn't afraid to show you the world you see. I've seen some people say that, like, in this context accepting or coming into your transness is this monumental death of self, which I get, but I feel there lacks a nuance in that because either way Owen is dying. Unlike Maddy who buries herself alive only to come out renewed, Owen doesn't kill himself upon facing the reality that the world is constructed to keep him miserable and the only way out is to take back what it is that the world wants to keep scooped out of him. Instead he just passively lets it drag him to a much more permanent death. This lack of suicide sucks in the kind of way that forces you to sit in your car on the midnight drive home and think to yourself am I letting myself suffocate because at some point knowing the misery became less scary than admitting I've been capable of doing something about it the whole time?

Clearly, I’ve been enchanted by the film’s narrative and meta-textual language. If you're familiar with it, you can see how Schoenbrun built this movie like a long-form dream episode of a canceled teen show filmed in Vancouver. Lynchian? Yeah, sure. Riverdalesque? THIS we cannot possibly deny. Schoenbrun said they included Amber Benson as an act of healing the inner rage experienced at Tara’s death in Buffy. This is a Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa ending Riverdale with a bisexual polycule after his gay Archie play got ceased-and-desisted type move. There’s probably more I could say about the soundtrack and the visuals, but I’ve hit over 1k words on this, so I’ll leave it at I enjoyed this movie a lot. :)

Maddy is an out lesbian who left town to escape the misery and found it strapped to her ankles. She slinks out, an animal pressed against the gymnasium floor, and says "I'm not telling you anything you don't already know." Owen looks into the camera and narrates. He cuts himself open with a box cutter, fully acknowledges what's there, and the movie ends with his suffocating apology parade for the unremarkable inconvenience of his excruciating suffering. You can be gay and trans, you can know it and you can stop repressing it, but you're not going to stop suffocating until you can find a way to destroy the part of you that truly deeply does want to die, reaching for the comforting euthanasia of normalcy. Stop visiting the dream of the life you want and make it into your reality with the same kind of unrepentant conviction seen in some underfunded but wildly ambitious teen television series. In other words: you must try to survive the ego death of being weird. A weirdo, who doesn't fit in and doesn't want to fit in!

[jenflirts]

mending my broken heart

pairing: tara carpenter x fem!reader

theme: angst :)

summary: maybe you're the one...

warning: profanities, grammar, no ghostface and cheating

a/n: based on my feelings :) | enjoy.

Falling for someone isn’t for weak people,

Nor being attached,

Nor loving someone.

These are the feelings that will make you mentally and physically weak, just because you would do everything just to have them, just to give them all your attention, love, and hell, even your soul, but why isn’t it for the weak? Well, only emotionally controlled people can survive these challenges. These are the obstacles that we face when we’re in love and this makes us vulnerable.

We’ve always thought that if a partner loves or falls for you it means they’ve accepted your flaws, insecurities, clinginess, stupidity, good days and bad ones, but sometimes don’t you think that they accepted that because they needed too? Out of pity? Or sometimes just to play you cause they’re just bored. I’ve always thought about falling in love and being vulnerable to a person, but then my overthinking mind stops me from doing so.

Yeah, taking from my perspective—a person that’s been played and got attached too many times just because they showed affection—I’ve been hurt so much that I don’t even count how many times that they scarred my heart and still gave them another chance. I did everything I could just not to fall for someone, but I just can’t stop myself ‘cause it feels like an addiction I cannot control. I keep thinking about the past relationships I had and even thought about the times that I let my heart heal and mend it by myself and yet, I keep longing for the wrong people and their fucked up affections.

And then there’s Tara, the girl that makes me feel special, the person that let me believe that love is worth waiting for, and love really does exist. Tara is the type of person that would really make you fall in love with her and not in the bad way, but because she’s the type of girl that you’ll feel comfortable to be around with, rides with your antics, will help you in any possible way, and makes you love your true self.

Tara and I have been dating for almost 2 years and the truth is I’ve fallen deeply in love with her, she already accepted my vulnerability and I accepted hers so there’s really no turning back. I’ve thought about these feelings thoroughly ‘cause I don’t want to hurt her nor she wants to hurt me, I’ve always wanted to feel vulnerable around someone I trust and love the most ‘cause I don’t want to let people see my true facade. Tara saw something in me that people don’t and she’s been helping me to cope up with that.

Everything has been great ever since I dated Tara.

December 09

It's our finals and both of us are stressed out since both of us picked a hard course and I actually want to do something special for her since it’s our anniversary so I’ve prepared dinner, movies and gifts just to surprise her. I went home earlier than she did so I could prepare the things I wanted to give and the words that I wanted to say; Thankfully, Sam and Mindy helped me to do everything.

“Minds? Do you think Tara would like it if I gave her a promise ring on our anniversary?” I asked the girl as we strolled through the jewelry shop. She stopped her tracks and looked at me surprised “A promise ring? Really? Doesn’t that curse relationships?” She asked as she glimpsed the rings.

A promise ring breaks relationships? Now what kind of fuck-mind would believe that. “And where did you get that information? Is it one of those crazies at the uni?” I joked.

“I’m just telling you that rings don't mean forever,” she said. That’s actually true, but I’m not gonna listen to her and Tara deserves a promise that I will love her forever so I picked out the ring and necklace for our anniversary tomorrow.

I helped Tara go inside our apartment and took the blindfold off. She engulfed me into a hug and kisses all over my face. "Tara, we need to eat" I said as I put her down on the floor.

Everything went smoothly and both ended with a promise to love and hold forever.

December 14

The day that feels eerie and gut wrenching, it feels so slow and bothering. "Minds, Tara hasn't texted me for the last few weeks and it's concerning me" I said as I tossed her my phone to check Tara and I's conversation.

"She also hasn't been going home" I added and groaned loudly.

"Yeah, I noticed that. You didn't confront her about this? But I always see her at the uni tho" She said.

Is Tara avoiding me? Did I do something wrong last week? Did she do something wrong? Did something happen that I didn't know? A lot of things suddenly hits me, I thought about everything that I've done last week ago, but nothing really came into my mind.

It's already past midnight and I'm still going on about Tara. I heard the door open and keys tossed on the counter. I went outside and checked if Tara's here or just Mindy wanted to crash by.

"Tara? Baby? Where were you?" I asked as I sat beside her on the living room coach.

"Sam's and did some thinking, so can we talk?" she said.

Why does it feel so suffocating? The way she looks at me feels so different; it feels empty and drained. I nodded and sat in front of her.

"For the last few weeks I've been isolating myself to you and it felt different after what I did. It's been perfect for the last 2 years and I loved every single moment that we've done, but I think we must part our ways and fix ourselves" She cried.

What? Just like that? After 2 fucking years? She's just going to throw it all away? I was too stunned to speak, my brain was spewing out words, but my mouth can't function properly. I felt my eyes stung and tears rolled down on my cheeks.

"So? That's it? Gonna throw away our 2 year relationship out the fucking window like its nothing? Damn Tara, I don't know what to say nor to react" I said as I wiped the tears that keep continuing running down on my cheeks.

She doesn't say anything, but her eyes tells me differently like she's guilty for not telling me the reason why.

"Tara, what's the sudden break-up? what's the reason? 'cause I know for a goddamn fact that it's not about self improvement shits. Tell me so that we could fix it" I assured her

She shook her head no and keeps sobbing uncontrollably. I went to her and wiped her tears; I held her hands, "Love? what happened? tell me so we could fix it" I said as I gently squeeze her hand.

She slowly stopped crying and let me wiped her mascara tear-stains. "It was at Wes's parties and you were studying for your final lesson at that time. Amber snuck me out and helped me unwind by bring me to Wes's parties then I got drunk and I couldn't control myself and so did Chad" she explained.

I couldn't believe it.

The love of my life, cheated.

The girl that I trusted the most, cheated.

I felt my whole world fell apart. It feels like my heart just shuttered into pieces, it feels like there's a new cut to it. I feel betrayed, angry and disappointed all at the same time.

I stood up and went back to my seat and comprehend what just Tara said. I can't do this right now, my mind is all over the place.

"babe? hey? I thought we were gonna fix these" she said

does she really think there's something to be fix? I gave her my everything and this is how she repays me. cheating on me with my other best friend? damn, that's another form of betrayal.

"tara, get out. I can't right now. I just want to be alone for a moment"

She doesn't understand what pain I'm going through right now.

After Tara closed the apartment door, I tried smashing everything so that I could somewhat calm down.

I sat on the living room floor and thought about the things that I have done on why Tara have to do this. Wasn't I enough? Am I that easy to replace? Is our relationship just out of pity? There's so much unanswered questions that I have on my mind, but right now I just want to be alone and mend my broken heart.

I thought she was the one that’s going to help me mend up the open cuts that people leave on my heart, but I would never predict that she was going to leave a big one.

(part 2 of my lovely, jenna is on-going)

[bratbby333]

the jjk men + ur birthday

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

blurb/brain dump

fluff version/sfw,, smutty version coming next

feat: gojo, geto, nanami, megumi, toji, yuuji

author notes: this idea 100% came abt bc my birthday’s in two weeks n i can’t help but gift this to myself

-gojo

Satoru is 1000% the type to over do it in the most endearing way possible. The celebration of you starts a week before your actual birthday. Stuffies, balloons, cupcakes, a lengthy, heartfelt card spilling his guts to you about how much you’ve changed his life. He’s even the type to book an expensive getaway for just the two of you after throwing you a surprise dinner party with all your friends.

“Your bags already packed. We leave for the airport in an hour” he says, brimming with joy.

He teases you about getting older, and you joyfully get to remind him that at least you’re still younger than him ((he pouts and huffs at this, of course)).

-geto

A deeply romantic man. Showering you in kind words and lingering touches of affection.

Suguru’s deeply intuitive and is most definitely the type of boyfriend to gather things you say you like throughout the year and secretly compile them in a basket to present to you on your birthday. He’s so sneaky with it that you have no idea it’s coming even though you two live together (where tf did he hide it??).

He’s so thoughtful and giving, it’s no surprise that he treats you extra special on your birthday. A bouquet of your favorite flowers, a reservation at your favorite restaurant, tickets to a movie you’ve been dying to see, walks in the park (stopping at your favorite café on the way there). He is just so deeply enamored by you and wants nothing more than to see your face light up when doing the things you love.

-nanami

Stoic and serious Nanami worships you each and every day. You opened his heart in ways he didn’t know existed, so he can’t help but reward you any chance he gets. You didn’t think he could ever out do himself, but each time your birthday comes around you are proven wrong.

Hefty bouquets of your favorite flowers adorn your kitchen, living room, and bedroom, different handwritten cards sitting against the various flower vases. For a man of such well thought out and analytically chosen words, he sure finds as many as he can to describe to you in detail how much you mean to him and how much he loves you.

He makes reservations at your favorite restaurant and takes you shopping to find an outfit for your dinner date, amongst other things-jewelry, bags, shoes, etc. He just absolutely spoils you.

-megumi

Even after a year of being together, Megumi still struggles to put his big feelings into the right words. He’d rather show you through acts of service than to say it directly to you. And you appreciate each and every thing he does for you.

The week leading up to your birthday, he takes over all the maintenance around the house; cooking for you every night, doing all the laundry, etc.

“I don’t want you to lift a finger leading up to your special day”

He takes you to get your hair done, your nails done, shopping…any sort of self care services that you want. He just loves being around you, even if a lot of the times, he may not be able to find the right words to say (you’re the only person he enjoys being around for extended periods of time) and he wants you to feel loved and pampered and beautiful on your birthday, even more so than you already are to him.

He cherishes the way you love him, and the man you’re turning him into, even if it scares him a little.

-toji

Violently nonchalant and seemingly uninterested in most people (I see where Meg gets it from), that part of Toji’s personality does a 180 when he’s around you.

Even though he hates being away from you, Toji takes on extra assignments in the weeks leading up to your birthday so he can make sure that he pampers you like there’s no tomorrow. You are not paying for a thing when he takes you out to celebrate your day.

And even though your celebration wasn’t as extravagant as it couldve been, you know the real party happens in the bedroom. Awoooga.

-yuuji

“Y/N!! Look what I got you!!” Yuuji grins wide.

“Happy birthday to the most amazing girlfriend ever!!” He beams, outstretched arms presenting you with three boxes in various sizes, wrapped neatly in birthday-esq wrapping paper (nobara must’ve helped with the wrap job).

Your eyes light up, giggling before looking at him.

“Yuuji, I appreciate and love you so very much. But, you do know my birthday is actually tomorrow, right?”

“Yes..duh! But I couldn’t wait. There’s more coming tomorrow, too!!” He replies, seemly more excited for your birthday than you are. Your heart melts at his never ending supply of enthusiasm.

He hugs you tightly and peppers your face with kisses.

The two of you spend the night before your birthday in the house, ordering food and binge watching movies until the sun comes up. And of course he has to be the first one to wish you an official happy birthday, right at midnight.

© bratbby333 on tumblr. all rights reserved. please do not distribute. 2024.

[writinggremlin]

Ok, here's interesting concept for ya'll to chew on for a bit:

Mind control/hypnosis, but it's so subtle that barely anyone realizes that there's been a change. It's nearly imperceivable. Anything that is noticeable can easily be chalked up to normal character development.

Anyone who grows suspicious can easily be seen as paranoid, even to other unaffected people. There's no tangible proof, there's no evidence-- sure they're acting a little different, but a lot can happen in a week. Nobody's the same on Friday as they were on Monday.

It's all in your head.

You're overthinking things.

It's fine.

They're fine.

Everything's fine.

Here's some medicine to help with your anxiety.

So many ways this could be applied though. As a virus trying to stay under the radar, a cult with a leader who has these powers, hell I can see applications for vampires or other species that relies on enthralling humans too (they could let their thrall be out in public, unsupervised, and nobody would even be suspicious enough to try to break them out of it. And if they did it would make them seem like a weirdo.) (There's also the whole idea of vampires being able to be more public a little more safely because obviously mind control isn't real! That's all fictional, Hollywood nonsense! These people want to be fed on, and they're willingly offering themselves up of their own volition, because they like it. They can refuse at any time and I'll respect that, isn't that right?).

It's not disillusionment, it's not denial, it's literally just the tiniest of changes on the surface, that have more noticeable impacts the deeper you look at it.

And for those who realize, who become obsessed and paranoid, spiraling into topics that are nothing more than illusive myths and conspiracies, one day they will wake up and realize just how irrational they've been. Believing so deeply in something with so little evidence and so many gaps to jump just to reach those conclusions, it's silly, really. God they've wasted so much time being so scared over nothing.

Does the power even exist at all?

That question is where the horror lies. And I love it.

(Movie inspiration: Little Joe, a movie about a plant that makes people happy. What could ever go wrong with that?) (Warning: if you go to watch it, there's a reoccurring audio motif that sounds like this very loud, shrill, piercing tone. It is a little painful to listen to, and can easily get overstimulating. Be prepared to adjust your volume accordingly.)

[theblogwithoutfear]

karen page is so annoying in the show...is she better in the comics somehow or is she just like that

So I've actually wanted to talk about this forever, but I kept forgetting to make a post about it. Your ask is a perfect opportunity to write down all my thoughts. Brace yourself, because I have a lot to say. Sorry in advance lmao

I actually prefer Karen in the show. To be fair, I have not finished all the comics, but so far I think her TV counterpart is a lot better (I still like her a lot in the comics tho, don't get me wrong). The NMCU version of Karen Page also has a lot of Kirsten McDuffie (another comic book girlfriend) in her, which is great in my opinion.

A lot of people find her annoying, but to me it's her flaws that make her such a fantastic character. She isn't a caricature, stock-girlfriend character pulled from a box of tropes; she's a well-rounded individual, extremely realistic, a mirror of Matt Murdock, and a woman with real agency. Her actions have major consequences on the plot. In my opinion, a lot of superhero girlfriends (in comics, movies, TV, whatever) are written more like props than characters, and they don't have any agency or actual plot relevance. Which is why, when a lot of them die, their deaths feel so cheap and inconsequential. That's where fridging comes from. It's been a problem with superheroes since their very inception; and a problem in storytelling at large. So often in fiction, women are flat and unrealistic.

So to me, Karen's heavily-flawed character is refreshing. She is extremely impulsive; she's deeply intelligent, but makes such stupid decisions; she can be hypocritical, self-destructive, and petty. Sometimes she manipulates people, even unintentionally. She's very well-meaning, but constantly makes mistakes. And it's these mistakes that move the plot forward, and reveal important things about both her and Matt. Her actions have real consequences for the story, and she undertakes her own journey throughout the narrative. She is almost as much a protagonist as Matt is, in terms of her character development and growth.

For that matter, every one of the flaws that I listed are things that Matt does too. They are almost perfect mirrors of each other; people who are immensely concerned with justice and compassion, people who care for the truth, and people who want to make their city a better place. However, as they go about it, they stumble and make mistakes and endanger other people. They're hypocritical and contradictory and impulsive. They constantly have to call their own moralities into question, because they almost never live up to their high ideals.

(Also, as a side note, I think many of Karen's flaws—as with Matt's—come as a direct result of all the trauma she's been through: her mother's death, her brother's death, her alcoholism and drug addiction, her dad cutting her off, being framed for murder, almost getting murdered in prison, etc. So I think it's fair to give her some grace.)

But what makes both Karen and Matt so lovable, imo, is that they keep trying. No matter what mistakes they make, they get back up and try again. They do everything they can to atone for the blood on their hands.

I think also (and I'm not accusing you of this, just a certain subset of people in the fandom) that people are more willing to accept Matt's flaws than Karen's—because there's a lot of misogyny built into our society, and there's this ingrained idea that women have to be paragons of virtue. Women, both in fiction and in reality, tend to be put under a microscope and dissected, while men can get away with a lot more. So Matt and Karen have identical flaws, but only Karen gets hate for it, which makes me very sad.

It may be the writer in me, but imo flaws are what make a character—and a story—meaningful. A well-flawed character can take a ridiculous, implausible story and make it feel grounded and real and impactful. A well-flawed woman even more so. I love Karen for the same reason I love Jessica Jones and Wanda Maximoff; or, to go beyond Marvel, for the same reason I love Jo March and Katniss Everdeen and Miss Haversham and Katherina Molina. They all elevate their respective stories beyond the initial premise and plot. Flawed female characters are realistic and impactful, and therefore empowering.

Obviously, to each their own. Some people just find her annoying and don't like her personality, and that's fine. But for me, that's what makes her feel real, and that's why I love her.

[sammaggs]

3x08 Spy vs. Spy | Protection

So this is the true story of how Sports Illustrated came to Canada, and it was such a problem that the government shut it down.

Here’s the thing about being this close to America, and this small by comparison: Canada is at constant risk of having its culture entirely dominated and obliterated by the States. All of our music, movies, TV, magazines—we don’t have the money or the manpower to compete, so it’s all American.

It sounds kind of silly, but in 1991 Canadian magazines were operating on a profit margin of TWO PERCENT. It’s impossible to compete with glossy, expensively-made magazines from America. The government subsidizes our magazine industry now; that’s how magazines like Macleans can continue to exist.

In the ‘60s, to try and stem the cultural hemorrhaging, the government established what we now call “CanCon” mandates, or our Canadian Content laws.

Basically, about one-third to one-half of all the media we consume has to be written, shot, produced, published, created, etc. by Canadians, in Canada. That goes for music on the radio, books on the shelves, shows on the screen, magazines on the rack—everything.

It was codified into NAFTA in '92: Free Trade includes everything except cultural exports.

I mean… they barely tried

The Americans obviously think this is stupid, and also not their problem. We are a huge export market for them culturally—almost all media we consume is American, and that’s big $$$ for American companies. They would love to swallow us whole.

So on April 5, 1993, American publication Sports Illustrated rolls in and slaps the word “Canada” on the end of it. They include some references to Canadian sports teams (even getting some wrong) and try to call it a legal day, even though it was foreign-produced and really did not hit the CanCon marks at all.

And the Canadian. Government. Got. Furious.

The government basically tried to litigate and tax them out of existence entirely. It was a massive controversy through the '90s, which is why they're still bringing it up in this 1997 episode of due South.

And uhhh... yeah Canada fuckin super lost. We lost as fuck. Deeply unsurprising.

Many scholarly articles came out about this at the time, as you can see above, and if you want to know more you can read a great one for free here. But yeah, this is a real thing that happened.

Dave Cole, who wrote Spy vs. Spy, also wrote Perfect Strangers, which includes that perfect bit about the human tragedy that is the lack of arts opportunities for filmmakers in Canada so, he was obviously a big supporter of all this (and rightfully so).

Bonus treat! Because Canada is not real, here's how music qualifies as CanCon: It must fulfill two of the following four conditions:

M (music) — the music is composed entirely by a Canadian

A (artist) — the music is, or the lyrics are, performed principally by a Canadian

P (performance) — the musical selection consists of a performance that is: Recorded wholly in Canada, or Performed wholly in Canada and broadcast live in Canada.

L (lyrics) — the lyrics are written entirely by a Canadian

That's right... it has to fulfill two of the four...

MAPL conditions.

Quiet Canadiana in due South [more]