#I say this knowing full well that I watched the whole goddamn thing in real time and have only minor regrets about the loss of sleep

[hitlikehammers]

time for that age old question: is love enough to beat back the apocalypse?

Because Steve's right there to protect everybody like the self-sacrificing asshole he is help Eddie make the music he's not strong enough for yet help them all put Vecna in the ground for good this time, right?(!??!)

or: what's the song for your walkman, baby? does it even matter?

I Could Be Your Nurse (or something)

Or: Five Times Eddie Has To Ask For Help, Plus One Time He Doesn’t Need It Anymore (but asks anyway) ✨ for @penny00dreadful 💜

<<< three: sleep 🌗

🎧 🎹 four: play 🎶 🛡️

To tell the whole truth of it: it comes too quickly—Vecna’s last stand. Of course it does.

But probably, if he’s being fair: they’d never have been really ready. Not for this, and so maybe it’s best that they’re not fully healed, not at full strength when it all comes to a head, not least because that means Vecna and his petal-toothed brigade aren’t at full strength either. And that choice, for their side, is sloppy; the Party stands on the right-side-up against the attack because they have to. Vecna makes his move because—or else, Eddie’s fairly sure—because the sadistic ballsac is losing his fucking mind.

Which is terrifying, sure, but fuck if it doesn’t help their cause.

It’s actually over pretty quick, even compared to Spring Break which, while it felt like a lifetime for how much it changed Eddie’s own, it’s only been those handful of days—but it’s kinda like the grand finale at a fireworks show: everything all at once then, done. In the everything’s though: he might not like it, but Eddie’s not so foolish as to believe he’s not still too tender, still too deep in healing the finer points of being gnawed alive to be anything but a burden in the thick of it. He refuses to be sidelined, though, and he thinks it says a lot for the long-term health of this glorious impossible thing he’s…building? Yeah, he, umm, he, Eddie Munson, is building a real goddamn thing where he doesn’t even just let someone into his heart and treasures them there, no, he’s building a thing where he gives his heart and gets on new and soft and trembling in kind and they both get to work at the treasuring of something more precious than just their own vulnerable insides, but yeah, yeah:

Eddie thinks it bodes really fucking well for the hopes he has that lean hard toward forever, already, in Eddie’s chest at least when Steve looks his way as they’re planning the teams and he locks eyes with Eddie and Eddie doesn’t even get his mouth open to breathe, to plead don’t cut me out, don’t send me to Wayne to be ‘safe’ or ‘out of harm’s way’ or whatever, don’t leave me so fucking far from you my heart hurts just because it’s beating in the middle space unmoored and shaking around all bruised up with it for not knowing and I know I can’t do what everyone else can but it’ll be bad enough not being next to you please don’t push me far enough that I won’t know the moment you’re safe, just—

Steve meets his eyes, and Eddie’s breath catches before his heart trips, and then Steve speaks up—and he doesn’t, not all that often when the nerdiest among them are shoring up the battle plans—but he watches Eddie without blinking when he pipes up:

“Eddie’s on medical and audio, with Erica and Jon.”

And maybe it’s his tone—this almost wholly novel thing in Steve that’s steely and unquestionable but no one pushes, they nod and get back to work, totally seamless and, and…yeah. That’s all Eddie wanted. Best he could hope for. Just outside the gate they go through. Close enough to hold a hand on the way down, and reach for purchase on the journey back.

Steve swallows hard, and nods at Eddie before he looks away and starts gearing up, twirls his fucking nailbat so it catches the sunlight even thought the metal’s mostly rusted, now and just…Eddie hadn’t needed to say a word. And Steve wanted to send him to safety, the way his throat had bobbed made it real clear there was something heavy he’s held back but: he’d said what he said. He’d laid the line in Eddie’s favor. Eddie wants to hold him, wants to pull him close and feel him breathe, and—

Yeah. Eddie kinda feels like the way it goes is a really good sign for their future as a couple. A couple. Them. Together.

With an always on the other side of all of this that could be kinda fucking magnificent, maybe. Given the chance.

Point being: Eddie gets himself set up with at least a full ambulance’s supplies for first aid, definitely not acquired legally, and a stereo set up he really wishes someone had been kind enough to outfit him with in not-the-apocalypse, holy shit is it gorgeous, but since the strength in his hands is still a work-in-progress, he’s gotta be ready to crank up the noise as a distraction from arm’s-length. It’s actually driving him fucking crazy—or, was; it was, pre-active return to the regularly scheduled world ending—the whole not being able to make music, to translate the noise in his head into sounds on the strings but even that, even that’s been tolerable, survivable because of Steve—who he loves, he gets to love Steve Harrington holy fuck—but Steve’s not just there to be everything and more than the air Eddie goddamn breathes, to become the music just by existing, nope, he one ups that shit: he asked Eddie if it’d be enough to learn the chords he needs. So Eddie could match the words with the notes right, so Steve could be a—

“—kinda piss-poor substitute but,” Steve had shrugged for it with a crooked grin; “but even a bad translator gets a message across, and you’d know when it’s wrong so we can figure out how to fix it and—“

And Eddie’d grabbed Steve’s chin and yanked his mouth close to fucking consume that man like a soul goddamn starved.

“I’d be a shit teacher,” Eddie had mouthed against Steve’s lips after they were sucked well-swollen; “if I still can’t lift the fucking neck for more than a minute,” but Steve had heard none of it, just shot right back:

“You don’t think we’ve beat steeper odds than that?”

And in the face of that raised brow, those red lips parted, that pulse in that neck still a little bit visible like a tease: the fuck was Eddie supposed to do but dive back in and love on the man who’d somehow agreed to be his, and to claim Eddie of all people in turn?

Which is a whole other reason why everything’s gonna be fine: Steve’s gonna make music with him. Steve’s gonna be Eddie’s muse and the vessel for what he inspires. It’s gonna be like Greek fucking poetry, except it’s gonna be them.

So Eddie’s all stocked up, s’got everyone’s floaty-bone-breaky songs queued up on blast for immediate deployment as necessary, and Steve’s the last to go through—he always is, in Eddie’s experience, waits for everyone to be safely accounted for before he spares a thought for himself and it might kill Eddie one day but not fucking today, because it’s gonna be fine—

“Eddie.”

It feels a little like history repeating itself, the way Steve huddles him in a little. Henderson’s through, with Lucas and Hopper and the weird stray Russian, but it’s not like history repeating, because Eddie’s got different words to see him off with; so fucking different.

“Last time I didn’t have,” and Steve reaches, cups Eddie’s cheek, drags down to press on his chest as his voice strains hard: “and it almost killed me,” and Steve usually pinches between his eyes to keep his feelings in check but instead of using his free hand to hold back the tears he reaches for Eddie’s and laces their fingers as his voice cracks and he chokes out:

“Please,” and it’s for everything. For all the almosts from last time; for all the possibilities rife this time. For all the hopes Eddie thinks they share beyond how this shakes out.

“Exceptionally underqualified field med,” Eddie breathes, and squeezes Steve’s hand so, so hard like a promise, because it is; “exceptionally overqualified DJ,” and Steve chuckles, wet but real and it’s enough, because:

“I got it, Stevie,” Eddie bends his forehead to Steve’s to say better than with words that he’s not in this to be a hero, he’ll be right here the whole time, but that doesn’t mean he…that doesn’t mean he can help but to ask this time:

“Just,” and the breath in him punches out unexpectedly as he damn-near begs:

“Only bring me back the little things, yeah? That I know how to fix?”

And they both hear what’s said underneath it:

Don’t turn around and die down there, and kill me in kind..

And—if anyone’s keeping track—they turn out not to need it but: the way the kiss is a wholeass wartime farewell, man.

And then: Eddie waits, and fucks with the speakers for less than an hour before the earth shakes, and his heart drops, but then he hears it.

The fucking whooping of those shitheads echoing through the cracks.

And then he sees it, runs, grabs the first hand that’s clinging to the rope this time and pulls with strength he doesn’t have, is probably more a hindrance than a help but he steadies them each back on the ground and hugs them so tight, kisses more than one of them on the head or the cheek as he doesn’t pretend not to be sobbing through the laughter because they did it, they fucking did it, somehow it’s over and he loves these people and he’s so fucking happy they’re alive and safe and here and—

And the person he loves more, loves most, brings up the rear, a little bloodied, a little scratched up, dingy with the fucking air down there but smiling and Eddie…

Eddie falls into him so fucking hard they both hit the ground and just, just grab onto one another. Just hold and breathe and catch lips every few seconds like an afterthought because they feel each other’s heartbeat where their chests are pressed tight and it’s, they’re…

Steve’s got four broken fingers across both hands. None in a row. He’s basically giving a Vulcan salute by default for how they’re taped.

Eddie loves him so goddamn much it hurts.

And Eddie’d obviously known—once things start to settle in the days that’ve followed—that teaching Steve guitar with those Spock-y hands was on the back burner, but he does ask Steve to sit, and to rest, and to help hum back the tunes in Eddie’s head while Eddie jots lyrics with a hand that’s still shaky but steadying out more every day, and it’s kind of perfect, and Steve adds some things into the melodies either on purpose or by accident but they’re better for it every time and—

Muse and vessel, man. The light of Eddie’s whole goddamn life.

With fucking Vulcan hands still, though, so: excuse Eddie for being…bewildered when his boyfriend—boyfriend, that’s his boyfriend—but his taped-up-healing-Vulcan-handed boyfriend is propping the front door open and lugging in a long, not-recovery-friendly thing that looks close to dropping on his toes and—

“The fuck are you doing?” Eddie asks with a little more panic in his voice than he’d hoped for as he rushes as best he can to where Steve’s kicking the door shut behind him, fluttering his hands around uselessly as Steve maneuvers past him, leans across for a peck at the corner of Eddie’s mouth and calls—“It’s fine, it weighs, like, nothing”—over his shoulder as he settles the, the thing down on the coffee table in the living room they’ve started actually using for, y’know.

Living.

Eddie follows him in, though, because of course, he’s half-a-dog on that man’s heels, whole-caught-in-the-gravity-of-his-everything: but Eddie follows as Steve tosses himself backward with something in his hand, rolls and rucks up his fucking absurd Hawking Middle tee across the sweet curve of his hips, the way the soft give of skin tempts Eddie to run his tongue over the trail of almost-curls, like baby-curls where they lead under the waist of his jeans: Eddie would happily volunteer to survive on the taste of that musky-delicate space until the end of goddamn time—

But then Steve’s huffing a breathless ha from behind a chair where he’d been stretched to reach and a light catches Eddie’s eye from his periphery where he’d been staring unblinking just at Steve: the big long black thing on the coffee table. It takes a genuine concerted effort not to keep at the Steve-staring—not an uncommon state of Eddie’s existence, in all fairness—and check what’s glowing on the table: something turned on. Was plugged in, right, that’s what had Steve rolling on the floor without Eddie on top of or being deliciously pinned down by him.

The something being the big long black thing that Eddie takes in for the whole of it, now: a keyboard.

“Jon picked it up for me second-hand from the place next to Fox Photo when he drove down for his camera, and Rob vouched that it’s a good brand and like, really good condition,” Steve’s raised up on his knees, now with his hands braces on his thighs as Eddie studies the keys, fingers the ends of a every few of the naturals.

“Rob helped with those, too, so I’d know the right, like, chords,” and yeah: they’re stupa of masking tape stuck to the keys with letters in blue, black, and red pen, alternating so they don’t get mixed up, some with and arrow, Eddie assumes, to indicate a sharp.

“I only remember like half of one song from when my parents thought it would look good to have me take piano lessons,” Steve huffs in whole-ass judgment; “my mom wanted the endorsement of the guy who was stepping down from city council, and his wife taught private lessons, so, y’know,” Steve rolls his eyes; “super convenient leading up to the election.”

“What song?”

Steve blinks, tips his head in askance for what Eddie recognizes very clearly as something closer to a croak than a question, his throat all tight. He tries to cough, to clear it.

“What song do you remember?”

Steve snorts at that, leans back on his palms, and fuck is he beautiful.

“Clair de Lune,” Steve grins crooked; “the one song I was allowed to pick, instead of just being assigned.”

“Why’d you pick it?” Not that Eddie doesn’t like it or anything. It’s more that…he knew Steve could more than just drum fingers on keys, if only just, and that a baby grand used to sit in the corner where there’s a stereo cabinet now, but.

But: see, there’s like a whole half of his heart that’s dedicated to collecting new knowledge about everything Steve: his favorite food when he was 12 versus the now. How his favorite color became his favorite color. The story behind all the polos. The nitty-gritties about why he’s in a big-ass house alone for approximately 360 days a year, and how long it’s been that way. Eddie’s whole heart is basically Steve’s but every day that half overflows a little, and Eddie’s only keeping it relegated to parts filled with Steve-lore so he can feel the collection break containment every other day, this grand and joyous bursting under his ribs as everything spills over again, and again, and again until it’s all just Steve, and his heart has to burst or stretch, or both.

Eddie thinks both will be amazing.

And right now, in the interest of building toward that amazing-both: he wants to know why Debussy.

Steve chuckles to himself—better music than any dead French guy by a country mile—and eyes Eddie almost slyly.

“Do you remember Claire Reynolds?”

Vaguely. Like, very vaguely. He remembers…uneven pigtails. Very actual-cult-like vibes about her family as a vague impression and now that he’s bringing it to mind he feels a new wave of indignation: those Children-of-the-Corn motherfuckers were just fine but Eddie liked a board game and he was probably a murderer.

“When we were in like, first grade,” Steve’s continuing on; “she asked me every, single, day, to come over and see her sheep.” Steve looks up at Eddie and bites his lower lip, lets his gaze dance and lets Eddie fall into it for a few dazed seconds before he spells it out.

“She had these crazy eyes about it, it was kinda unsettling,” Steve nudges, but Eddie’s doesn’t get it until:

“And it’s not like I do now, because obviously I don’t, but I definitely didn’t speak a lick of French when I was eight.”

It takes Eddie a hot second before he snorts hard enough to hurt:

Claire, da Loon.

“I was eight,” Steve protests Eddie’s laughter halfheartedly even as he joins in, reaches to slap at Eddie’s upper arm which honestly: just makes him laugh harder.

“Anyway,” Steve fights through the last of the chuckling as it peters out between them, drags himself to sitting next to the coffee table and taps his hand to the top of the keyboard.

“I know it’s not the same as learning guitar to help, and I can probably only get the top and bottom notes with these,” he lifts his Vulcan-fingers his a shrug; “but I was hoping that’d be better than nothing?”

And, like, how Eddie was talking about his heart having to swell, for all the things he gets to tuck inside of it that come with loving Steve Harrington?

He might crack a rib, just now, because—

“This is for me?”

Steve purses his lips, lifts a brow:

“Well, technically it’s for me,” steve singles his fingers, which looks absurd with the splints; “but yeah. To help you get the songs out. I mean, once these are free again, you can help me with the guitar like we talked about, until you’re—“

And Eddie cannot be blamed, see: he cannot be fucking blamed for tackling Steve to the floor and kissing him hard enough to bruise because…

“You got hurt,” Eddie half-breathes between kisses; “you got hurt and I was so afraid I was gonna lose you,” and Eddie reaches for those taped fingers and kisses them, too: so gentle and Steve’s expression softens so quick:

“I was scared, too,” he whispers between them, cups Eddie’s face with his unloaded hand; “you were as safe as I could make you within the fucking city limits but I was still so goddamn scared.”

Cue more rib-cracking for the heart-swelling, because Jesus fucking Christ.

“And you,” Eddie exhales, slow and shaky; “you’re hurt, but you went and got,” he nods to the keyboard;

“I know it’s not ideal,” Steve’s quick to, to what, apologize? For being insane and perfect and—

“Shut up,” Eddie says, voice low and watery and he’s still kissing at Steve’s fingers, holding his wrist delicate but also like a lifeline.

“You’re hurt,” Eddie maybe kinda moans it because he hates it, as much as he’s so fucking grateful that’s it’s just this, no worse than this; “and you still—”

“I promised, didn’t I?”

And that…that’s one thing Eddie’s learned beyond reproach; that even to his detriment, Steve keeps his goddamn promises.

And he’d promised to help Eddie get his words out, to place the lyrics to the notes and help unclutter his brain so he didn’t lose his mind.

Holy fucking hell.

“Steve,” Eddie starts, shakes his head, needs to find the right words. “You’re alive,” the most important thing. “You are healing,” another most important thing, for Eddie to oversee and make sure of, even as Steve keeps an eye on the last lingering threads of the long haul on Eddie’s road to recovery in kind, his beloved mother hen.

“This is,” and he runs his fingers too light to draw sounds across the keys, hopes he sounds as awed and grateful as he feels; “but you, you’ve gotta test, you have to,” and Eddie shakes his head and lifts his eyes to just fucking ask it:

“Why?”

And Steve: Steve just studies his face for a few seconds, reads what he needs before he smiles kinda exasperated, mostly fond and answers so simply, while also breaking a few more of Eddie’s ribs when he just says:

“Because I love you.”

And Eddie’s heart’s not so overfull yet of all of Steve, it’s not fair that it just bursts right then and there, Eddie propelled into Steve’s arms to kiss him deep this time, like he’s searching out Steve’s soul to taste and maybe he is, save that he needs his heart to not have exploded for feeling if he’s going to keep the memory of it safe in his chest for always, he needs to patch his heart back up first but he’s too distracted, too drowned in the way love actually fucking feels, fucking shifts his cells around and makes a new version of him, lets his heart grow bigger except it went and blasted apart with the unprecedented immensity of loving and—

And then Eddie’s got Steve’s taped up hands on both his cheeks, and he remembers that night, in the shower, where Steve ripped the seams from his shirt so taking it off wouldn’t hurt him; notices how Steve is wearing that same fucking shirt in this very moment, all in one piece, like it never split apart in the first place.

Master seamstress, tried and tested and true; truer than anything.

So Eddie just dives back in and kisses with everything in him, thinks maybe when Steve tastes the pieces of Eddie’s blowout heart under his tongue while Eddie goes diving for the sweet lick of Steve’s soul:

Eddie thinks Steve’s mouth might know how to stitch up torn things, too. Especially the kinds that are ripped at their seams wholly for the sake of loving that fucking hard.

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson @estrellami-1 @bookworm0690 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @nerdyglassescheeseychick @swimmingbirdrunningrock @goodolefashionedloverboi @sanctumdemunson

divider credits here & here

👾 title credit here

💫 ao3 link here

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #hurt/comfort #whump #fluff #happy ending #angst with a happy ending #soft #pining #slow burn #(ish) #steddie fic #deep devoted caretaker steve #smitten recovering post S4 eddie #sharing a bed #sleeping together #not like THAT #HE'S RECOVERING OKAY #nightmares #though maybe it IS time to address the...crush-confession-dick-grazing-shower-thing #like: just MAYBE #love confessions #domestic fluff #5+1 things #stranger things #gift fic #penny00dreadful

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

Hello! How are you doing? I was wondering if I could get a fic of maybe something angst with Miles Earth 42? Maybe reader and him have an argument about him being the Prowler?

Full Of Apologies But Never Sorry

You stared down at your hands, completely still and shocked.

You only came into Miles' room after his mom let you in, and you didn't snoop, you never did.

You never needed too. Miles was honest with you.

You merely came to talk because he called you, saying he wanted to apologize for missing your date and he had a surprise for you.

Maybe the surprise was real, they always were, but the relationship was not.

Now, as you held the Prowler suit in your hands, you realized everything, every missed date, call, text and every time you asked what he did for work, was a lie.

You had watched the Prowler hurt, steal and once even kill, maybe more when you didn't see. Miles knew you didn't like the Prowler,

Only now do you remember the look in his eye, on his face and how he grew rigid whenever he came up on TV, or every time you said something.

You could snap out of your stare at the suit, barely when you heard his footsteps, the door on turn and open with a click.

You could feel his stare, imagining the smile that always was on his face when he looked at you.

Now you could barely stomach turning to look at him.

"Oye, llegaste antes, amor." Miles said, his smile small as you could hear him chuckle on his breath, walking closer.

Your back was to him before you finally turned around, barely able to look at him through your own anger.

"Care to explain what this is?" You barely let him get close, holding up the Prowler suit.

Miles stared at you confused for a moment, looking at the suit before it finally dawned on him.

You knew.

The one thing he needed you to never know.

You knew.

"Were you looking through my shit?" Miles asked, scoffing in his own anger as you returned it with a scowl.

"Well, you're the one who left it lying on the floor like a dumbass!" You put it nicely, tossing the costume into his chest as he caught it, staring down at it for a second.

"You're the goddamn Prowler?" You could barely mutter, staring at who you once thought was a loving boyfriend, but now someone you barely know.

"(Name)- I had to." Miles tried to explain, losing his words for once, losing every preparation he had in case this happened.

Because it wasn't supposed to happen.

"You had to do what?" You scoffed, looking at him with something he had never seen towards him, anger and maybe disgust.

"Become some criminal in the goddamn night? The hell are you? Batman?!" You said, throwing your hands up as Miles rolled his eyes.

"I do it to protect you, my mom, Uncle Aaron! It's how I get money for us all!" Miles tried to justify.

"You think that's how it's supposed to go?! Miles, if you're the Prowler, that means everytime someone on TV got hurt, robbed or even killed, was you!" You exclaimed, barely holding yourself through it all.

"Yeah, I think it is! It's how life is, ma! I do what I have to do! And I didn't see you complaining about the money that I got from it when I got you shit."

You laughed humorously at his words, sarcastically clapping your hands in fake praise.

"Wow! Great job, Miles! You won this whole thing!" You gave a fake smile, watching as his face contorted into annoyance.

"I never told you to buy me shit. I told you to stop buying me stuff because it made me feel guilty about all the money you were spending." You explained thoroughly, Miles crossing his arms over his chest.

"I spent it because I care about you, I wanted to show that! Being the Prowler makes that happen." Miles said, watching as you sighed.

"Being the Prowler, makes you a criminal. I love you, yeah, but I've watched you, under that mask," You pointed to the very mask in his hands.

"Choke a man in front of me, in front of his kid, in a robbery you knew affected me. I know that man, his kid I babysat, and I watched you choke him to death."

You said, tears filling your eyes out of anger as Miles couldn't help but look down in almost shame.

"You held me when I cried after I got back from his funeral. You bought me dinner and you bought me a gift after that to 'make me feel better'." You said, your voice choked.

"Did you buy that crap with the money you got from killing him?" You asked, quietly as you waited for an answer.

Miles couldn't lie, so he nodded.

You could feel your heart almost cracking in two. The feeling in your chest is ever-lasting.

You nodded, looking away from him and around his room, every night you spent here was spent in his arms, the arms that you thought were safe, maybe for you, but not to others he harmed, and that was what scared you.

If he could do it to them, what about you?

"...I can't do this." You muttered, shaking your head as you wiped your tears, refusing to cry because of him, walking quickly to brush past him.

Miles finally could look up, barely able to look at you as you reached for the handle, quickly grabbing your hand to keep you with him.

"(Name), no-" Miles tried, not wanting you to walk out that door and possibly leave him for good.

You tugged your hand away from Miles, only turning to look at him with your hand still on the handle, never wavering.

"So, that's just- that's just it? Does this mean it's over, or what? Is it permanent?" Miles barely got out, not wanting to accept it.

Miles didn't want to be left alone, he was alone after his dad died, you helped just by being around him.

But you were walking out the door, out on him.

And he didn't know if he could get you back when you did.

He just knew it was happening, and he didn't want to accept it.

You barely were able to look at Miles, feeling something bubbling up your throat, your eyes refusing to cry but watered.

You could barely talk, but you needed to. You needed to get out and away.

Even if it meant forever.

"...I don't know, Miles." You admitted, Miles staring into your eyes with his own heartbreak, wanting to desperately keep you with him like once before.

But now, Miles was forced to watch as you turned away, opening the door quickly, almost running out and down the hall.

Miles didn't move from where he stood, hearing the apartment door open, never wavering as it shut.

Miles didn't move for a long time. He was almost scared too. Something he hadn't been in a while.

He held his Prowler suit in his hands, once thinking of it as a means of protection for everyone he loved, but now resentment and something that kept what could've been.

Miles stayed there for who knows how long.

Because if he moved, he would need to look around and see you were gone.

And he didn't want to accept that you were gone.

#miles morales earth 42 x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales #miles morales x you #miles morales x y/n #miles morales #miles morales x reader #miles x reader #across the spider verse x reader #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #spiderverse x reader #into the spiderverse x reader #into the spider verse

[gigabyte-flare]

There's No Escape (Part 6)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Summary: As you process the fact you're now pregnant with your captor's child, you experience the aftermath of the trauma he's endured in the past.

Pairing: yandere!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Word Count: 2.7k

If any of the warnings below trigger you, please kindly pass on this fic 

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life; if you feel this way, please go touch grass. You are solely responsible for your own content consumption

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT OR I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL YEET YOU INTO THE GODDAMN SUN. Thank you!

Warnings (may not apply to all parts): Sex, gaslighting, swearing, stalking, acts of violence, blood, dubcon, kidnapping, pet names (baby, doll, angel, sweetheart, etc.), PTSD triggers, unprotected sex, forced breeding, daddy kink, manipulation, oral (m and f receiving), choking, overstimulation, knife play, gunplay, masterbation, drugging, tokophobia, Stockholm syndrome if you squint. Long story short, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. More warnings could be added in the future.

Tags: @lipglossanon, @ghostkennedy, @explorevenus, @nexyswrites, @ilookatlater, @shroomietrip, @dollrxst, @lomaeuwu, @aliet, @luniaxifics, @miwsolovely (Shoot me a message or an ask if you want to be added to the list!)

A/N: I am sooooooooooooooooooo sorry this took so long to put out! I had massive writer's block with this one. There's a ton of angst in this one, fair warning. Enjoy!

EDIT!!! I forgot to mention there's a nod here to Venus' AI Leon shenanigans as they helped break my writer's block, thank you Venus!!!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The days following the bombshell that was finding out you’re pregnant with Leon’s child were a blur. Most of the time you moseyed around the house, almost in a catatonic state, your mind in denial about the whole thing. Pregnancy and childbirth were two of your biggest fears and they were now a terrifying reality. This morning was no different, you lay in bed on your side, staring off into space as several tears stream down your face. Dark circles were under your eyes from crying almost every night; you also refused to eat, Leon usually had to force feed you. 

You feel Leon shift next to you as an arm wraps around your waist. You feel him bury his nose into the hair on the back of your head, inhaling deeply.

“Good morning, my pretty princess, did you sleep well?”

You don’t answer him, you simply continue to stare at the wall. You hear Leon let out a frustrated sigh.

“Baby, can you please answer me? Daddy’s worried about you.”

“I slept fine.” you reply curtly.

Leon forcibly turns you to face him, and you watch as he furrows his eyebrows at you. 

“You know it’s not nice to lie to Daddy.” he says, “come here.”

He gets out of bed, pulling you with him to stand in front of a full length mirror.

“See how pretty you are? And the best part?” Leon says before placing his hands on the lower part of your belly, “there’s a part of me inside you now.”

You feel your stomach sink as you look at your nude form in the mirror, your eyes catching a glimpse of Leon standing behind you, his blue eyes locked on you in lust. 

“I can’t wait until you start to show, sweetheart. That way I can show the whole world who you belong to.”

Leon presses a kiss into the back of your head before continuing.

“Daddy will take such good care of you and our baby; you won’t have to lift a finger, all you need to focus on is being a good princess and having all of Daddy’s babies.”

You shiver briefly, bringing your arms up to hug yourself as Leon wraps his arms around you, kissing the back of your head and rocking you back and forth in an attempt to comfort you. 

“Here, let’s get you dressed and I’ll make us some breakfast, hm?” Leon says, letting you go and approaching the closet to pick out your outfit for the day. 

He grabs a pair of really short denim shorts with a white tank top, putting the clothes on you before getting dressed himself, putting on a pair of black cargo pants with a gray tank top. He gently grabs your hand, coaxing you towards the kitchen to have breakfast. 

In the kitchen, Leon is cooking bacon and eggs while you sit at the kitchen table, fiddling with a pen that is on the table in your hands. Leon makes up two plates, putting one in front of you before sitting next to you at the small table. You’re reluctant to eat at first until Leon shoots a glare at you. 

“You need to eat, don’t make me force you again, sweetheart,” he warns.

You let out a sigh as you begin to eat, fighting back tears that are welling in your eyes.

“That’s my good girl,” he coos, watching you like a hawk as he finishes his breakfast “you’re eating for two now; I have to make sure you’re getting enough to eat for both of you.”

The statement sends chills down your spine, but you somehow finish your breakfast despite it. Once you’re done, Leon collects both the plates and silverware to put them in the sink before leading you into the living room. He sits in his usual chair, coaxing you onto his lap as he turns on the TV to get the news.

He runs his fingers through your hair as he places gentle kisses on your check and along your neck, “I’m so excited to start our family, I’ve dreamt of this for so long…”

“Is that because of what happened in Raccoon City and Spain?” you reply mindlessly.

You feel Leon tense up beneath you and you quickly realize your error; you aren’t supposed to know about Raccoon City or Spain. You feel Leon’s cold blue gaze boring a hole into you before he shoves you onto the floor.

“You’ve been in my office haven’t you?!” he growls, his eyes filled with rage as you get on your knees to stand up.

“Daddy, please… I’m sorry, the door was open and--”

He stands up from his chair and slaps you across the face, causing you to fall over onto the floor. He bends down, grabbing you by your hair to stand you up on your knees again.

“Give me one good reason to forgive you, princess,” Leon growls, tightening his grasp on your hair.

It made you sick to even think about it, but you knew one thing that would quell his anger, “think about our baby, Leon…”

You watch his expression soften a touch, but his grip on your hair remains. Without saying a word, he begins undoing his belt and pants with one hand, pulling out his half hardened cock from his pants.

“Let me fuck and cum in your pretty little mouth, then maybe I’ll consider forgiving you, sweetheart.”

He sticks his thumb in your mouth, prying your mouth open before shifting himself closer, pushing his cock inside your mouth. Immediately he starts thrusting into your mouth, causing you to gag as his cock pushes against the back of your throat; he was doing this for his pleasure, not yours.

Tears pour down your face as you grasp onto his hips in an attempt to slow him down, but it’s futile; he is relentless. Letting out a lust filled growl, Leon looks down at you, a wicked grin spreading across his lips, relishing in the sight of him ravishing your mouth.

“You are going to swallow every drop of my cum, do I make myself clear?”

You try to nod, but Leon’s insistent thrusts into your mouth make that almost impossible; all you can do is gag. A few more minutes pass. Leon’s grip on your hair tightens as his hips push into your mouth. You feel his cock pulse violently as ropes of his cum shoot into your throat. You continue to gag, now afraid you’re actually going to choke on his cum. He holds himself in your mouth until his cock finally stops twitching. He pulls out of your mouth, your lips making a distinct ‘pop’ sound. Inevitably, some of his cum leaks from your lips; you struggle to swallow it all.

“Aw, what’s the matter? Can’t swallow all of Daddy’s cum?” Leon asks, his tone patronizing.

You finally manage to swallow most of it before looking back up at him, “I’m… I’m sorry, Daddy, there’s so much.”

He grabs you by your shoulder, forcing you to stand up before he grabs you, throwing you over his shoulder, “I told you to swallow all of my cum and you didn’t, you bad, bad girl.”

You see that he’s carrying you to the timeout room and you start to struggle, kicking and screaming in his grasp until he drops you onto the bed in the timeout room, fastening the collar around your neck. He kneels down so that he’s eye level with you, the rage he’s holding back apparent in his blue eyes.

“Not only did you go somewhere you weren’t supposed to, sweetheart, but you didn’t do what I had asked you to. You’re going to stay in this room all by yourself until tomorrow morning so you can think about what you did wrong, understood?”

You nod, your eyes red and puffy from crying. You watch Leon stand up, not even giving you a second glance as he walks out of the room, closing and locking the door behind him.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Leon is restless as he lays in bed, staring at the ceiling. This was the first night he slept alone since bringing you here. Every time he closes his eyes, that night in Raccoon City comes rushing back to him, the groans of the undead haunting his subconscious. He felt a chill go through him, which immediately brought him back to when he was infected with Las Plagas, causing him to lay on his side, wrapping his arms around himself. 

You were the only one that kept the darkness of the past away and boy did he yearn for you now. But you were being punished and he needed to see that punishment through; he was not about to let you see him like this.

However, as time passed, his body began to tremble and he could feel a panic attack coming, something he hadn’t experienced since that night you had disappeared from his apartment back in D.C.. Grabbing a pillow, he stuffs his face into it and screams, unable to get the awful images of that night in 1998 out of his head. Why did you have to bring it up? Why were you in his office to begin with? He wanted to forget that night, the night his innocence was taken away from him. 

He graduated at the top of his class at the police academy, his heart full of light and hope. Filled with a desire to help people. The bright, hopeful police officer died that night in Raccoon City, leaving behind a jaded man full of anger and hate at the horrors and corruption he was exposed to. 

Clutching the pillow, trying to pretend it was you, he violently sobs, his voice no doubt echoing through the house. After what seems like hours of this, he couldn’t take it anymore. He tosses the blankets off himself and walks into the bathroom, flipping the light on before looking at himself in the mirror. His eyes were puffy and red with dark circles under them. He looks like hell. Turning on the sink, he splashes cold water onto his face before leaning over the sink, breathing heavily. He turns and leaves the bathroom, shutting off the light. He walks out of the bedroom, heading straight to the timeout room. 

He stops in front of the shut door, pressing his palm against it, dragging his hand down until his hand meets the door handle.

He unlocks the door.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

You were startled awake by the sound of someone wailing. You were kind of irritated because you had just managed to finally fall asleep after exhausting yourself from crying. The first thought that crossed your mind was ‘oh great, is this place haunted?’ but no, you realize quickly it’s Leon. The wailing finally stops after awhile, much to your relief.

You close your eyes to go back to sleep until you hear the door to the timeout room unlock and open, the door letting out a creaking sound as it slowly swings open. You keep your eyes shut, thinking that if he thinks you’re asleep that he’ll go away. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. Leon walks into the room, shutting the door behind him. You feel him collapse onto the bed behind you; you feel him press himself against you, wrapping his arms around you tightly. That’s when you feel it, his body subtly shaking and you hear soft sounds coming from him.

Is he crying…?

You open your eyes, turning over to look at him slightly, “Leon?”

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry,” you hear him say, “I couldn’t do it, I’m not strong enough… it won’t stop…”

You turn over completely to face him, looking into his bloodshot blue eyes, “what won’t stop?”

“I couldn’t save them… I couldn’t save anyone…” Leon says, “I can still hear them…”

You realize he’s talking about Raccoon City and, judging by the report you read, he witnessed some truly horrific things that clearly scarred him. Your mind starts racing, trying to think of a way to calm him down so that you can go back to sleep. You recall the Kennedy Report, finally.

“But you were able to save the President’s daughter, weren't you?” you reach out, gently caressing his cheek, “you also stopped a horrible parasite from spreading. That’s something, isn’t it, Leon?”

You watch as his breaths slow down, his expression softening as a smile forms on his lips, a genuine one. You hadn’t seen that smile since when you first met him. For a minute you forget that he’s completely deranged. He pulls you in close, kissing the top of your head and he quickly falls asleep and, thankfully, you do, too.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

The next morning, you and Leon ate breakfast in complete silence. You mindlessly push your food around on your plate as Leon stands at the kitchen sink, doing the dishes. You look up at him, the silence now unbearable.

“Do you… want to talk about last night?” you ask hesitantly.

“No.”

You feel your heart sink, clearing your throat before continuing, “I think we should, Leon.”

“You’re becoming awfully comfortable with addressing me incorrectly, my sweet,” Leon says, his voice like venom.

You roll your eyes since his back is turned to you, “it’s not going to get easier if you keep ignoring it.”

He turns around, narrowing his eyes at you, “drop it. Now.”

“I’m sorry, Daddy… I’ll stop,” you say, conceding defeat.

“Good girl.”

The sudden sound of his cellphone ringing in his back pocket made you nearly jump out of your skin. Leon groans, pulling it out and answering it.

“Kennedy speaking… no I can’t come to Bangor today…”

Bangor… as in Bangor, Maine?

“What do you mean the President is here? Fuck… fine, I’ll be there in a couple hours,” Leon hangs up his cellphone, turning to face you, “I have to go into town, can I trust you to be good while I’m gone?”

He doesn’t realize his slip up…

“Yes, Daddy, I’ll be good, I promise.”

Your mind was now racing, trying to fathom where in Maine you potentially were until you suddenly recall a conversation you had with Leon when you two started dating.

“Yeah, I have some property up near Baxter State Park in Maine; I’d like to retire there someday!”

He inadvertently told you where he was going to take you without even realizing it. But what were you going to do with this information? You had no way of communicating with the outside. You finish up your breakfast with renewed vigor as Leon gets ready to leave the house.

Leon comes out of the bedroom, wearing one of his leather jackets with a dark blue button up shirt and a pair of jeans. Admittedly, he was very attractive in this outfit. You must not have hid that on your face very well because he gives you a playful smirk.

“Like what you see baby? Too bad I have to leave you, otherwise I’d fuck you right here. Unfortunately, I can’t refuse an order from the President."

He walks up to you, cupping your head in one of his hands and kissing the top of your head, “I’ll be back later, be good, ok?”

You watch Leon leave the kitchen, listening to the front door open and squeak closed, leaving you with your thoughts. Grabbing your plate, you bring it over to the sink and finish washing the dishes that Leon had started. Your mind continues to race over the fact that you now had a general idea of where Leon has taken you; you had to think of a way to take advantage of this.

You finish up the dishes, drying off your hands before going into the living room. You sit in Leon’s chair, turning on the TV and mindlessly flipping through the channels. You can’t seem to focus, your eyes wandering the room instead of staying on the TV. Your eyes settle on the front door, your eyes widening in shock.

The front door is unlatched.

Part 7

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader #yandere!leon kennedy #yandere!leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader smut #leon kennedy smut #gigabyte writes #there's no escape

[jakeyt]

Covet: Chapter 10 (Sneak Peek)

a/n: A little peek inside Jake's head... chapter 10, the true first look at how Jake will take the news. You'll see the first few weeks of him knowing once the whole chapter is here. Eeeek!!

However, here is the mess of his mind once he first finds out......

-🌼🌼🌼-

Jake's POV

There was no doubting her. Not for a single second. The baby was mine and I’d known it in my heart before I asked. 

I really just wanted to hear her say it. 

During our time together, just like she’d been it for me, I knew in my heart that I’d been it for her. I’d known her, backwards and forwards.

And, within that time that I knew her so well, we’d become close. So close that, without meaning to make it—us— more, we’d made what we had more. 

Shaking my head, I gave her a better look, not able to put into words what the fuck I was feeling. So, I let my eyes trail down her body, covered only by a towel. 

She adjusted her towel, tighter around her body. Was she self conscious? She shouldn’t have been. She was always beautiful. So beautiful. And I was afraid pregnancy was only going to enhance her beauty. . . I noticed as she tightened her towel, the action made her full breasts spill even more from the top of the towel. 

I averted my eyes, willing my dick to not react. Instead, I trained my eyes below, on her belly. 

And now that I knew, I could see. Even through the fluffiness of the towel, I could see a certain roundness to her belly that had never been there before. A full-blown bump. Still small by some standards, but big enough that I should have fucking noticed. 

Not able to help it, my eyes scanned her heaving chest again, the tops of her tits fully exposed above the towel. It made so much sense why I’d noticed them looking bigger. . . Because they were bigger. Growing. Every day. To nourish a baby. 

Our baby.

I looked away from her. . . I couldn’t look at her right now. 

Not when she— when I. . . God.

How had I been so oblivious?! I lived with her for Christ’s sake. Was it my fault that I hadn’t allowed myself to be more present in her life? Was it because I was seeing Maya now? 

God. No. It wasn’t on me to watch for things like that anymore. Not since she’d told me that I’d served my purpose. That I was just convenient. . . And all of the other hateful shit she’d spit in my face that day. 

The day my heart fucking broke after pounding in my chest. . . Pleading with her to help me understand all of it. 

But she didn’t fucking stop . . . Just kept going. Breaking me. Saying things I never, in a million years, ever wanted to hear from her. 

I’d let her become more in my life. I foolishly thought it was meant to last. Thought that she had become my someone. More than relationship. More than friends. She had just . . . Been there. She’d nestled into a place made just for her in my heart. Like she was supposed to have been there all along. 

I’d never wanted her to leave. 

But she’d wanted to. She’d put her foot down, not leaving any goddamn room for argument. 

And my heart. . . Fucking broken after beating the hardest it ever had in my chest. . . Shattered into an infinite number of tiny shards at my feet. I’d spent days picking up the shreds, my hands getting cut every time I tried to fix in me what she’d torn apart. 

There was a part of me that knew exactly why she’d done it. I fucking knew. But there was no use in entertaining what I knew to be true when she refused to acknowledge the truth. 

The night we’d smoked and I’d told her that I— she’d told me that she— Jesus. The moment had been so real, so solid. . . Even being under the influence, I felt the connection we’d made in that moment. 

I thought about the words everyday after that night. And the words continued to echo for weeks after I’d left the kitchen on that hellish day. 

Then there was the transcendental sex we’d had when we made it into her room. . . She’d been so wet, waiting for me. . . Fuck it all. That sure as hell hadn't left my mind. It wouldn't ever.

Wait— the night we’d smoked. . . We hadn’t used. . .

Was that when—?

The inside of my brain was just going fucking insane and I couldn’t— goddammit!

I tucked Josh's goddamn phone in my pocket, and ran a hand through my hair a couple of times. The other hand still held my keys, flexing over and over. I needed to do something with my hands. Besides balling them into fists and creating divots in one palm with my fingertips and the other with my keys.

I was tired of just standing there, in front of this woman I’d fallen for at a time when I thought I’d never want to love again. . . The same woman who’d shattered me. And, now, the very same woman who was carrying my child. . . 

There was no use in trying to organize any thoughts. 

Pacing seemed to be the only option. So, back and forth, back and forth, I walked in about a foot of space. Just waded in these uncharted fucking waters.

All I knew at this moment was she was pregnant. And she’d lied to me about it. 

How long had she—? How far along was—?

And why in the hell had Josh known before me?! Of all fucking people . . .

Fuck! 

“Jake,” her voice tore through the catastrophic mess of shit in my head. 

I didn’t look at her. 

How could I? When she’d left me in the dark. Once again, prioritized Josh over me. Even when it came to my child. Absolutely fucking incredible.

“Jake, please,” she muttered, voice cracking on the word please. My heart couldn’t handle the sound. “I can’t— I’m not in the right state of mind to just—," she squeaked, the sound of tears clear in her tone.

I stopped pacing and peered up at her finally, my hair surely a mess when I let my eyes pierce hers. 

But as soon as I made eye contact with her, I softened. I hated to see her cry. Hated it. And the sobs wracking her were unexpected and it hurt me to stand there and watch her like that. 

But— she’d brought this on herself. Right?! Fuck. 

As much as I wanted to walk to her and hug her, I didn’t. I stayed where I was, offering a half-assed condolence. It wasn’t her turn to hurt over this. 

I was the one just finding out. Not her.

“Y/n,” I tried, weakly. But god it sucked to say her name right now. “Just— god. There are so many—.”

“Questions, I know,” she finished, sniffling. She walked a couple hesitant steps toward me. But I took two back, away from her. 

The way her body slacked at my action made me want to take it back. There were a lot of things I wanted to do. Some understandable, some not so much. I wanted to cry. Kiss her. Hug her. Feel her. Help her. Scream at her. 

But, she was right. I did have so many fucking questions. 

“How long?” I asked, breath shallow, never letting my eyes leave hers. 

She kept up, not looking away from me. “How long have I known? Or how long have I been—?”

“Both.”

“I—,” she stuttered, closing her eyes tight, her beautiful face contorted in what I could only assume was emotional turmoil. 

I watched as she balled her fists, clenching them a few times. Then, as she released them, she seemed to plant her feet firmly on the floor— her body, rigid and straight. 

When she opened her eyes and found mine again, I could clearly see the tears that had accumulated on her lashes. And her eyes, that would forever take my breath away, were daring to shed more of them.

“Don’t cry,” I couldn’t help but calmly reassure her, my voice soft as I went to stand closer to her again. Not close. Just— closer. “Just. . . keep going. Talk me through it. Talk us through it.” 

She breathed deeply, in and out, once. I strained to not let my eyes fall to her chest— to admire the way that her fuller breasts would rise and fall. . . 

I resisted, focusing on her eyes - her face. Her face, rivaling all gods of beauty, always daring to bewitch me.

After taking one more calming breath, she began. “I’m three months,” she paused momentarily, as if thinking of something. “Three months today, actually.”

Three months.

“And how long have you known?”

“I’ve known for about a month,” she responded, bringing her shoulders higher and sniffling once. She blinked once, tightening her fists once more. “That’s not to say I told anyone right away. I kept it to myself. I was scared. I didn’t know what the fuck to do.”

I let her words sit in the air for a few minutes, thought them through at least five times before I couldn’t keep the next question to myself any longer. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

a/n: hm.... what will his next question be???? I'll give you one guess 🙄

also, I love how much he already loves her changing body..... liiiiike..... 👀

#but for real #omg guys #i am /so/ excited to show you where this goes now that he knows...... #a new beginning #that's for sure #covet #sneak peek

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

I looked and looked and looked for who to credit this art for. Maybe I'm blind. Maybe I need to do alternative searches for art to use on my posts. Anyhow, I found both of these on Pinterest. If you or someone you know is the creator, please message me and I'll add the artist.

A/N = Lovely Rengoku. This man can fit into any situation and make it work ... well, maybe not ALL. But you know what I mean. This ~one-a-fucking-gain~ didn't pan out how I planned it. I was originally going to write a whole thing but it pretty much just ended itself. It worked out well, though, despite being kinda short.

C/W = I don't think there are any. Talk of nudity, a small group of nude people posing for artistic purposes. Other than that it's just a fluffy piece. Flirting between Rengoku and y/n (F!reader). Enjoy!

Sign Here X_____________

"Hey, this is beginning art, right?" You asked the man looking over the class syllabus on the wall. He looked to be close to your age, maybe a little younger. He was goddamn beautiful, too. Tall. Not an ounce of body fat in the wrong place. Muscular. Cool hair; blonde with red tips.

He looked at you. For a good 10 seconds before he said anything. Scanning over your face, stopping at your eyes and your lips. You found yourself feeling some way. Not uncomfortable, but like you were under a microscope. Being inspected.

"Yes, this is my class, beginning art."

You narrowed your eyes. "'Your class?' Oh, you mean you're in this class, too? Cool. Well, my name is y/n. I guess I'll see you around. Thanks."

"Heh, no, this is MY class. As in, I'm the instructor. I'm the everything ... actually." He said calmly and smiled at you as he put his hair back in a tight bun and you watched him walk to the oversized desk in the corner of the room.

"Hello, welcome to ...?" He rolled his hands out like as he was encouraging the classroom to interact.

"Arrrrtttt for beginnnnerssss!" Everyone participated. Even you. How could you not. This man could convince a perfectly healthy person to drink a vile of poison.

"Good job, kids," he laughed. Clearly noting the older people in the class. "In this course, we're going to learn how to draw animate and inanimate objects. Always be prepared because I will surprise you from time to time."

You looked around the class to see everyone was completely enthralled with this young man. The person to your left was a woman, maybe in her 40's. She looked nice. You leaned over and said, "I can't wait to see what kind of surprises he's talking about," and giggled. She put her hand over her mouth as she giggled back at your comment.

"Y/n, care to tell me what's so funny back there? I'm not here as a comedian. I'm here as an art teacher. So if comedy is more up your ... alley? Perhaps you would like to go to the room a few doors down and share your humor with everyone that isn't here to learn how to draw?"

You shut up real quick. "S-sorry ... uhhh, I-I don't know your name." You tilted your right ear toward him, waiting for his response.

"I was actually just getting to that before you flexed your humorous." He stared into your eyes for what seemed like an eternity. You don't think he blinked the entire time, either.

"My name is Kyojuro Rengoku. Yes. It's a mouthful. Yes, you have to call me by my full name or I will kick you out of this class."

Your body sunk as he laughed. "No, not really. You can call me Kyo. I'll write it on the board in such a way it'll be simple enough to pronounce." He grabbed the chalk and began to say out loud what he was writing. "Kee-yoh. Kyo. Simple enough, yes?" He looked at you. Again. What the hell was up with him. "See, y/n, I can be funny, too."

You nodded, feeling your cheeks pink up. He still hadn't taken his eyes off of you as your face transitioned back to its original color.

"Now, what exactly is going to be a surprise in this class, you're probably wondering. I presume you all read the waiver etc. that was included in your packet? I know I got most of them back all signed. If you didn't sign one, stay after and talk to me."

Shit, you thought, I never got anything like that.

└────── ⋆☆⋆ ──────┘

Class was only 45 minutes tonight as it was just a basic introduction about what would be covered and when.

"Y/n, may I have a moment of your time?" He sounded so relaxed when he talked. You thought about asking him what his secret was. "Did you mail in your signed waiver? I sent it out with the syllabus about 3 weeks ago?"

You started to twist your bottom lip around with your teeth. "I ... I don't - ah, I mean I didn't ever get that. None of it, Kyo."

He was taken aback by your use of his name so casually. So effortlessly.

"Hm. Look over your information here and tell me if it's correct." He handed you a planner and had you find your name.

You pointed at it.

"Here's my name, phone # and addre-" You stopped and looked at him. "This is my old address. Where did you get this from?"

You'd moved 5 months ago to a little house. But you thought you'd changed everything over before you'd even moved out.

"I got it from here, from the school."

"Ohhh, oh no. I forgot to notify the school." You got a worried look on your face. "Does that mean I'm going to be kicked out of this class?" You didn't even try to disguise your concern.

"Nooo! No, nothing like that, y/n. But I will need you to fill one out, just to cover everything."

"Cover? Cover what? You doing blood sacrifices in here or something?" You laughed.

He didn't. "Among other things, yes."

You waited for him to tell you he was kidding.

A full minute must've gone by before he gave you a half-smile, the left side of his mouth turning upward.

"There will be no sacrifices of any kind in my class, little lamb. Do not worry." He chuckled, rather darkly for someone who was trying to be reassuring.

Little lamb. You're pretty sure you had a "little" orgasm when he called you that.

"Just initial on these and sign at the bottom?" You pointed at the paper.

He put his hand next to where you were pointing, almost resting it right on top of yours.

"Mmmm ... mm-hm. Did you read what it said, y/n?"

You shook your head, quickly at first but then you slowed to an almost complete still.

"It's just about ... about art, and ... other stuff. R-right?" You swallowed hard, it hurt.

"It's basically a declaration that you're ok with nudity in any capacity. You're ok with multiple bodies being nude and draped or sitting on one another. "Basically ..." he continued, "that you're not going to file a sexual harassment claim against myself or the school because you're uncomfortable. It states very obviously that there will be profound nudity in this course. If you're NOT ok with that, then you're free to change your mind, of course. You'll get a full refund, no questions asked."

He watched your face closely for any kind of a reaction.

"Who - who will be the nude model?" You asked, trying to use your big girl voice.

"Anyone who is willing to pose. Sometimes it's someone from class. Sometimes it's someone from a newspaper ad that needs some rainy day money." He paused, "And sometimes," he leaned back in his chair, "sometimes, it'll be me." A cocky look washed over his face. He knew what you were thinking. He was counting on it.

You almost lost your balance when he said that.

"Y-you pose?"

He nodded, looking a little proud of himself for having given you such a reaction.

"I - I think I'll stay in the class then."

"Fantastic. Sign ... right ... here."

Taglist: @callm3senpaii

#kyojuro rengoku fluff #kyo fluff #rengoku fluff #rengoku au art teacher #rengoku art teacher #art teacher rengoku #rengoku x you #rengoku x y/n #rengoku x reader #kyojuro x reader #kyojuro x y/n #kyojuro x you #kyojuro rengoku x reader #kyojuro rengoku x you #kyojuro rengoku x y/n

[brighttears]

Battery

Joel Miller x f!reader

Series masterlist

No physical description

Summary: You met Tess in the Boston QZ because you have a battery for her car. She introduces you to her sidekick Joel, the handsome, hardass who looks like he wants to kill you. You’re leaving Boston with them in the morning. 

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: deals in Boston with unfriendly characters, drinking, Joel takes sleeping pills

A/n: Wrote this is one sitting with very minimal editing heehee. Obviously screaming for more parts but I just decided to put this out and see what happens with it

—

You sit on a rusty metal folding chair in the musty basement you’ve come to know well, sitting next from your new friends Tess—the person you’ve come here to sort of compromise with, someone who promises a car to give a home to the battery you’ve come here to score in the first place. You met her at work, rolling paint over Firefly logos. You don’t usually chit–chat with your ‘coworkers’, and Tess said the same thing to you when you started talking, but you did, and it was maybe the most pleasant experience you’ve had in your year in the Boston QZ. Somehow, you clicked, and now, you guess you could say you’re something like friends. You even laughed once. More importantly, you both decided you could put a little trust into each other. The paramount detail, however, is that she’s looking for a car battery, and you know someone who has one, and you were going to speak with him the next day anyway. Finally, you both might have a way out of this hellhole. 

She did tell you that her other friend, Joel, is “kind of a piece of work, a real hard head who will look like he wants to kill you”, but goddamn did she mean that. He’s currently glaring at you from across the table, trying to size you up, looking like he’s trying to make you explode with his mind despite the fact that you’re here to do him a huge fucking favor. Next to him is your dealer, a poorly built man who can handle a lot more than he looks like he can, and a man who has plenty of people to back him up for what he can’t. He’s the King Rat, dirty and only seen in basements, but a kingpin just the same. He has a couple of his men around the room with him now, standing by the door with their hands clasped like ex-marines, doing their job at creating an atmosphere of static danger, telling you that he is the person that decides when and if you leave this room. However, your fear is on the backburner. You have become somewhat of a regular in King Rat’s basement—his actual name, the one you address him as, being Wojciech—for deals, trades more like it, but all of it being a forerunner for this right meeting right now. 

“Now, you know I like you,” he says to you, lazily raising a finger with something like a smile, “but I do not know either of you.” He waves his finger at Joel and Tess.

“I like them,” you tell him, a white lie, “that’s why I brought them here. I thought you’d want to know the whole deal here.”

“And we would both like to be here to see that the goods are real.” Tess says, face stoney. 

The static in the air picks up, though no one moves. 

Wojciech grows a slow grin, looking her right in the eyes. You watch them, trying to determine if this is about to get nasty, trying to read what you might be able to do to calm it down. He is a person to learn. Tess, apparently, is someone who doesn’t really give a fuck. Some may think she’s stupid to be so curt, but you can tell that she can hold the fuck her own. Plus, Joel looks like he could rip someone's throat out with ease. Still, you tense. 

“Aah,” he drawls, “smart woman. I can understand that. Yes, very smart. Well,” he flicks his hand out to a man behind him who then produces the battery onto the table, “it is very real. And it can be all yours,” he looks at you now, still grinning, “at the agreed price.” You then unload from your bag onto the table a fat stack of ration cards, a metal box full of various kinds of bullets, and a large plastic bag full to the brim of fat white pills. 

Wojciech’s eyes widen and he licks his lips as if you’ve just placed a freshly cooked Thanksgiving style turkey on the table.

“Good girl,” he says, still drooling over the payment, “what a sight, what a sight. You are a good girl, you know,” he looks up at you, his hands absentmindedly flexing. You try to smile, although his words make you want to gag. He is a person to learn, and also a person to swallow your bile for. This is just how he talks, and he’s never actually tried to lay a hand on you, so you can put up with it. Besides, once this deal is done, you'll never have to see him again. Just as his mouth is probably salivating for what's on the table right now, so is yours. You force yourself to keep Wojciech’s gaze instead of staring at the car battery. 

Still, though, you can see Joel’s eyes on you, still looking at you like you don’t belong here, like he hates you. So far, you really don’t like him, but it’s not him you care about, it’s the car he has. 

“You know, I will miss you, you and your sneaky ways. I don’t know how you did this, but I will never ask, because I don’t care as long as you get it onto my table.” He laughs heartily, leaning back in his chair with his hands still flexing, the sounds ending in squeaks, as they always do, which has added to the sticking nickname of Rat King. 

You got this stuff by saving, scraping, working a lot, and, yes, some stealing, along with making ‘friends’ with some guards who will never get the chance to get in your pants, though flirting was your main method of essentially manipulating them. It was hard work, never honest, but worth it. And now, finally, it is about to pay off.

“Well, seems we’re done here now, right?” Tess says.

Wojciech’s eyes roll to hers, relaxing back in his chair, still with his somewhat disquieting half grin. 

“Down to business. I like that. I like you, too, miss missy. Too bad you’ll be taking this battery and then be far gone right?”

Tess says nothing, which is smart.

Rat King finally gives in, “Aah”ing as he slides the battery across the table while one of his men bags up the other items on the table. 

You take the battery in your hands, sliding it over to yourself, then standing to set your now empty bag on the table next to it. It barely fits, but it does. 

Everyone else raises to their feet as you do, concluding the meeting. Wojciech is grinning at you again, wide, thin, full of small teeth, his eyes squinting with it. 

“Once again, very nice doing business with you,” you say to him, reaching out your hand for him to shake and hoping the grimace doesn’t show in your smile. 

“Yes, yes, as always, I really will miss you, you know.” He tells you as he shakes your hand, sweaty and tight. 

You say nothing. You try to say as little as you can with him, just be polite as possible; get in, get out. 

He lets go of your hand and then nods, signaling permission for your departure. You lead Tess and Joel out, all filing up the narrow staircase back into the sunlight. The bag hurts your shoulders, but you need to hide the weight, make it look like nothing important as you walk down the streets. 

“Alright, golden girl,” Tess says to you, now in stride next to you with Joel on the other side of her, “smartest way to do this is you stay with us tonight, and then you leave with us in the morning. Sound good to you?”

You nod, “Sounds good to me.”

“You got any shit to pick up at your place or are you good?”

“I’ve got everything I own on me.”

“Really?” She screws her face up with her question.

“Yup. Clothes, two loaded guns, and two knives.”

“No food?”

“Nope. Sorry I have nothing to offer on that front, but, that’s part of how we got this big thing on my back.” You pull the strap of your bag more securely on your shoulder.

“So, what,” Joel grumbles, “we just s’spossed to supply that for you?” He asks, mostly rhetorically. Really, he’s saying fuck you, who do you think you are?

Before you can snap anything back, Tess says, giving him a warning look, “Well, I think it’s a pretty fair fucking trade, seeing as she is the reason that we’re finally getting the fuck out of here.”

Joel stares at her for a moment, glowering, then looks back down the road, grumbling under his breath. 

Tess switches her gaze to you, “We’ve got shit saved up, don’t worry about it.” You nod, grateful. 

The rest of the walk is silent, all the way up to their apartment. Once at the door, Tess tells you, “Stay out here for a second, we gotta talk.” You nod, and she closes the door. You stay still, listening in on their private conversation. 

“I don’t like this.” Comes Joel’s muffled voice, “I do not want to add another person into our lives.”

“Well, this is how it’s gonna go. She has a battery, we don’t. We need her. She’s solid.”

“And how do you know that? You just met ‘er.” Joel snaps back. 

“Because I know, Joel. Look, do you trust me? Good. So, trust me. I understand you’re worried, I know you think this will complicate things, but we need her, and I trust her, ok?”

“It’s stupid to trust someone you barely know. I don’t like ‘er, I don’t like that prick Wojciech, I don’t like any of this. We can find another battery, alone.”

“No, we can’t. Who knows how long that will take? We have one right in front of us. This is our chance, Joel. To get out of here. Go find Tommy.”

There’s a pause, a shuffle of feet, and then Tess’s voice again, barely audible, “There’s just something about this chic. Okay? I like her. I really think she’s worth keeping around.” 

Joel says nothing. 

“Alright?”

He says nothing again. 

“Good. Now, be nice.”

You smile. You’re starting to really like Tess; the unspoken command she has over his angry bear of a man, this authority she holds over seemingly the air itself, instantly knocks up your respect for her. Thank god you like at least one of the people you’re about to travel with, to wherever they’re going. 

She opens the door then with a slight, polite smile, “Come on in. Get that thing off your shoulders. I’m sure they’re bruised by now.” As you enter, she adds, kind of offhandedly, “We need to talk.”

You offer a matching smile back, walking in and finding the table to set down your heavy bag before joining her on the couch. Joel sits in a chair in the corner, still looking annoyingly murderous. You stare right back, blankly, challenging him. He scares you just as much as half of the people in Boston, so it doesn’t really hit like it used to. He’s not gonna hurt you, he just wants you to feel like he will. You almost sigh, tired of shit like this. 

He looks pissed as fuck, but, eventually, he looks to the ground, submitting to Tess’s request of ‘being nice’.

Joel is almost like a puppy, well, more like a dog, a guard dog, who sits in the corner, watching and glaring as much as a dog can, who eventually huffs, defeated, and plods over to lay at your feet. He reminds you of an old, tired, Saint Bernard. Tess is unquestionably his owner, known this dog for years, able to command him with one word or even just her eyes. 

“Look,” Tess interrupts your musing, her eyes demanding your attention, sitting next to you with her hands clasped over spread knees. “Him and I, we are not good people. We are here to get what we want, and go.”

Something about Tess makes you think that she may have been a mother at some point. You like it.

She continues, “I think we can help each other out. You wanna get outta here, too, right?”

You nod, “As soon as possible.”

She half chuckles, “Well, we’re on the same page, then. Joel here has a brother somewhere out in—”

“Tess,” Joel suddenly hisses, not even looking at you when he addresses you, “she does not need to know that.”

Tess barely gives him a look before she looks back to you, continuing on, “Somewhere out in Wyoming.”

“She did not need to know that.” Joel repeats, firmer. 

Tess turns to him then, pausing. “Look. We all have the same goal, now. Get the fuck out of Boston. And that’s where we’re headed, and she’s coming along, so, yes, she does need to know that. It’s as much her business as it is ours.”

“Who the fuck says she’s comin’ along? We’re gettin’ her out of Boston, an’ that’s it.”

Deciding you have a right to say something on the matter, you interject, “I want to get as far away from Boston as I can. I’ll go as far as you can take me. And for what it’s worth, I’m not gonna rob you, I’m not gonna kill you, I just want—”

“That’s worth nothin’.” Joel snaps, glaring at you again. 

You huff, glaring back. “I get it. I’m a stranger. So are you. But I’m coming with you, because it’s my fucking battery. I busted my ass getting that thing. And if we’re getting this car, we’re gonna be stuck in close quarters for a while, so you might as well get used to me, and I might as well get used to you. We’re helping each other out here, ok? I’m not just cargo. I am a fucking asset. That should be apparent enough now. That Wojciech guy is not easy to fucking work with, you’re lucky you got to be in the room to begin with. Because I got him to trust me. Cause I can get my hands on things others cannot. I know shit. I know how to talk to people. And I have shit out there. I know what to do, where to go. I’ve only been in Boston for a year. I was out there for years. I have shit stashed, and I know where it is. And I can show you. And we can share it. I’m not a child, I’m not useless, and I’m not stupid. So be nice, ok?”

Joel just stares back, glowering, grinding his teeth.

“What is this,” Tess speaks up, “a staring contest? Look, we don’t have time for this. We’re leaving in the morning, and she’s right, you need to get used to each other. I don’t have the patience to deal with this shit, ok?”

You’re not exactly sure who she’s addressing while you’re still steady with Joel’s gaze. If this is a staring contest, you are way too stubborn to lose, especially after how he’s been treating you. 

After a moment, Joel finally submits, casting his eyes to the floor before he gets up and goes to the kitchen where he digs a large, thick glass bottle out from the top shelf of a cabinet, a quarter of the way full with golden, what you assume to be, liquor. He doggedly retrieves two, then three, cups. He holds all three in one hand, a finger in each, with the bottle in his other hand. He comes to the table before the couch, moving slow, resistantly, like he’s trying to rub it in how much he does not want to be setting the glasses down to pour one for Tess, but then also one for you. He keeps his gaze down as he does and then pours his own glass, not even bothering to set the bottle down so that he can immediately pour himself another after downing the first. You watch as he pulls a bag out of his pocket and takes two big, fat, white pills—the same kind you just passed hundreds of over to Wojciech—to swallow down with his alcohol. He pauses, turns, and tosses the bag to you. You catch it, look at it in your palm, and then set it on the table. 

Joel glances over at it, “T’s not laced.” There’s taut irritation in his voice, “I jus’ took one.” You dumbass is easily heard, though he doesn’t say it, instead taking a sip and trying to hide the grimace it gives him. 

“I don’t want one.” You tell him, “I prefer less sleep. ‘Few hours keep me sharp.” You don’t take your eyes off of him, though he only keeps you in his peripheral. 

The alcohol is harsh on your tongue, a mixture of every type of alcohol to exist, probably, and not watered down like you’re used to. You polish the glass off in one gulp, unintentionally slamming the glass back down on the table with a wince. Tess chuckles and gulps hers down as well. 

She sets her glass down almost as hard as you had, then says to you, “Alright, you get the couch. I’ll see you in the morning.” With that, she gets up and goes into the next room over. 

Joel stays standing, glass and bottle still in hand, not looking at you. He pours himself another one, then plods closer to pour you another as well. He abandons the bottle on the table then and sits in the chair in the corner in a way that ages him. The setting sun crosses orange over his chest and lights up his face; he’s rough, and handsome. More handsome than you want him to be. 

His flits his eyes around, considering, then submitting again with a sigh. 

“So, you said you got stuff stashed around?” He says, finally looking at you. 

You nod as you sip, trying to mute a grimace. 

“Where?”

“Few miles from here. Pretty much a straight shot from the gates. Then some more a few miles further.”

“You know how to get us there?”

“Yes.” You answer, annoyed. 

He sighs, then grimaces with his sip. He pauses again, looking absentmindedly at the seat next to you on the couch, then speaks again, “So you said you only been here a year?” You nod. “Why’d you come?” 

“For a break.” 

“A break,” he nearly chuckles.

“I know, not much of one. That’s why I’m ready to leave.”

“You got a destination in mind?”

“No.” 

“Good.”

There's a pause. You want to know more about him, the reasoning you assign to being for the safety of your own travels. 

“So, brother?” You inquire. 

Joel takes a slow sip, answering with a grimace probably both from the taste and the decision to answer, “Yes.”

“Why isn’t he with you?”

Joel considers the walls before he answers, “We had a disagreement.”

“About what?”

“Morals. You gonna finish that?”

You keep eye contact as you down the dregs of your drink. He keeps the gaze as well, examining you as he licks his teeth behind his lips. He sighs, then looks through the window. 

“You gonna watch me as I sleep?” You quip. He turns back to you, eyes looking you over again. 

“No.” With that, he gets up, walks to the table to set his glass down, and leaves into the next room over. 

When he’s gone, you sigh. What an introduction. Tess seems solid, but Joel is fucking exhausting. You hope to god he lets up on his go fuck yourself air about him soon enough, but you can’t tell if that’s a possibility. You have to admit, it’s a bit winsome, and definitely intriguing. He’s a nut you’d love to crack, and if things do work out, you should have plenty of time. 

You lay back on the couch and close your eyes. You feel almost like a kid on Christmas Eve, so much so that you consider the bag of sleeping pills on the table, but you’ve never touched them and you don’t plan on starting now. That would be stupid. Maybe by now, however long he’s been here, Joel is used to going to sleep in a bed and being sure he’ll be fine until he wakes up in the morning, but you are not. It is an idea that’s nice to have in your head, allowing you maybe a few hours more sleep than you used to get, but that all ends tomorrow. You’re not upset about that, though; sometimes, it feels like out there is your natural habitat. You have no qualms with leaving these walls. So, you try your best to welcome sleep, to get the next few hours over with so you can start the next chapter.

#the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #the last of us x reader #the last of us hbo #the last of us x f!reader #the last of us x female readrer #the last of us angst #tlou #tlou hbo #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou series #joel miller #joel the last of us #joel tlou #joel miller fan fiction #joel miller tlou #joel miller x reader #joel milller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller the last of us #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel x reader #joel miller angst #tess servopoulos

[woomycritiques543]

Going anon here so I don't get harassed by the stans I read through the doc you made and it was really well made and you brought up SO much good shit Viv and her stans have this problem of bringing up unrelated issues to try and make the other party look bad (And most of it ain't even true) "Oh Erin came out and said the workplace was so bad that she never wanted to draw again? B-b-but guys she's a TERF, so don't listen to her!" Like what the hell??? I have the evidence saved in case someone tries to take it down, and you bet I will be sharing this More people need to know about Viv's abusive behavior, not just people on TikTok (Also I send my condolenscences to you. Being misgendered and called a "psychopath" is utterly disgusting, and I hope you're doing okay)

Best wishes to you and here's to the future!

FINALLY!!!!

Sorry for the outburst but- OH MY GOD you have no idea how long it took to find a way to make it so you guys could see those files and documents! Also, thank you for your condolences.

Vivziepop ableism, internalized homophobia, and racism needs to come to an end. Not just with Ayy Lmao, but her and her entire standom. People are allowed to support something without supporting someone's behavior. Even then, giving someone thousands of dollars in hopes that they'll pay their artists properly just for this to happen instead:

(More info on how she pays her workers and how indie artists are underpaid in studios overall based on the fact that the average is less than the average American pay in the full video of "The Vivziepop Archive Extravaganza" linked within the document itself.)

So yeah, the artists being "paid a little bit less than they should" at Spindlehorse is the underestimation of the centurty. The studio gets millions daily, yet there are still people there that have to work at goddamn Starbucks. That's horrible!

So im planning to maybe make a instructional video on how to not give views to creators you enjoy but don't want to support. It's not like it's going to the other artists really in the first place. Only the lead artists who say things like this:

(This was confirmed to be VIvienne's real discord on her own Twitter by the way. Go see for yourself. It's there. She's transphobic.)

The reason why this is wrong speaks for itself.

(HINT: R^pe is something that severely traumatizes and hurts people and making light of the act itself like this is actually sickening.

-and the main creators also like things such as this:

Yeah...

I think now's a good time to speak with our wallets and our views so that those mistreated will finally move on to better studios and that Vivziepop's reign of toxicity upon the internet will finally come to an end.

So if you wan't to buy merch... buy fan merch!

If you wan't to watch a Helluva Boss episode, another hated Youtuber, etc:

1. Right click on a video from a youtuber that you don't like, for example: Onision.

2. (IMPORTANT!) Press "Copy Link Address."

3. Go to a trustworthy Youtube downloader.

4. -and bam! No views given, but you still get to enjoy the past episodes while making it so Spindlehorse can finally get the message that you do not support Vivziepop or her leads's behavior, and Youtube as a whole will finally get the message that the majority of people do not wan't to support toxic creators.

That is all it takes.

That, or film the video on Bandicam, make it a zip file, and then send it to whoever wants to download the video. -and done! You just DID NOT support Onision! Now try this with any other (big) creator that you have a problem with! Let's make Youtube a better place together. :)

#helluva boss #helluva boss criticism #vivziepop #vivziepop criticism #anti vivziepop #anti onision #anti toxic creators #tw onision mention #tw onision #tw rape mention #tw nsfl

[elettralightwood]

Moments from the fight at Kensington Palace that absolutely shattered my heart ♡

• Henry turns to face him at last, and now that Alex’s eyes aren’t full of rainwater, he can see the skin under his eyes is papery and purple, rimmed pink at his eyelashes. There’s a tense set to his shoulders Alex hasn’t seen in months, not directed at him at least.

• Something rises in Alex’s throat—anger, confusion, hurt, bile. Unforgivably, he feels like he might cry.

• “I fucking love you, okay?” Alex half yells, finally, irreversibly. Henry goes very still against the mantelpiece. Alex watches him swallow, watches the muscle that keeps twitching in his jaw, and feels like he might shake out of his skin. “Fuck, I swear. You don’t make it fucking easy. But I’m in love with you.” A small click cuts the silence: Henry has taken his signet ring off and set it down on the mantel. He holds his naked hand to his chest, kneading the palm, the flickering light from the fire painting his face in dramatic shadows. “Do you have any idea what that means?” “Of course I do—” “Alex, please,” Henry says, and when he finally turns to look at him, he looks wretched, miserable. “Don’t. This is the entire goddamned reason. I can’t do this, and you know why I can’t do this, so please don’t make me say it.”

• Alex swallows hard. “You’re not even gonna try to be happy?” “For Christ’s sake,” Henry says, “I’ve been trying to be happy my entire idiot life. My birthright is a country, not happiness.”

• “So, what, was this all never going to be anything real to you?” And Henry snaps. “You really are a complete idiot if you believe that,” Henry hisses, the note balled in his fist. “When have I ever, since the first instant I touched you, pretended to be anything less than in love with you?”

• “It was never supposed to be an issue,” he goes on, his voice hoarse. “I thought I could have some part of you, and just never say it, and you’d never have to know, and one day you’d get tired of me and leave, because I’m—” He stops short, and one shaking hand moves through the air in front of him in a helpless sort of gesture at everything about himself. “I never thought I’d be stood here faced with a choice I can’t make, because I never ... I never imagined you would love me back.”

• “What do you want?” “I want you—” “Then fucking have me.”

• “I don’t want it!” Henry practically shouts. His eyes are flashing, wet and angry and afraid. “Don’t you bloody see? I’m not like you. I can’t afford to be reckless. I don’t have a family who will support me. I don’t go about shoving who I am in everyone’s faces and dreaming about a career in fucking politics, so I can be more scrutinized and picked apart by the entire godforsaken world.”

• Alex takes a breath. “I never said you were a coward.” “I.” Henry blinks. “Well. The point stands.”

• “I’ll leave,” he says, and he turns back and leans in, “as soon as you tell me to leave.” “Alex.” He’s in Henry’s face now. “Tell me you’re done with me. I’ll get back on the plane. That’s it. And you can live here in your tower and be miserable forever, write a whole book of sad fucking poems about it. Whatever. Just say it.” “Fuck you,” Henry says, his voice breaking, and he gets a handful of Alex’s shirt collar, and Alex knows he’s going to love this stubborn shithead forever.

• He realizes, suddenly, Henry’s crying. He swallows. That’s the thing: he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know if this is supposed to be some kind of consummation, or if it’s one last time. He doesn’t think he could go through with it if he knew it was the latter. But he doesn’t want to go home without having this. “C’mere.”

• He tells his too-fast brain: Don’t miss it this time. He’s too important.

#rwrb #red white and royal blue #firstprince

[cj-doodlez]

I finally watched Lords of Chaos. My thoughts

I took a bold decision and finally watched Lords of Chaos which, for those who aren't aware/never heard of it, is a movie meant to be depicting Mayhem, one of the most influential, and controversial black metal bands in the whole world, and the black metal scene in Norway between the late 80s and throughout the 90s.

I was gonna initially avoid the movie because of TikTok white girls thirsting over a guy who was rather sick in the head and depraved and well, fucking dead, and a convicted arsonist, murderer, and neo-Nazi, because apparently they can't stop with fantasizing about killers, when realistically even Varg Vikernes himself would be creeped out by their weird obsession with killers (they're just simping for the actor but play it off as drooling all over the floor for the character they play to look quirky online); and he's the real goddamn Count Grishnackh. Now before it, I would like to clarify; I DO NOT intend to glorify or support the actions of Varg Vikernes, nor do I glorify or support his very questionable views. I'm a metalhead, and I'm a rather curious person for the bizarre and the obscene. Not to mention I do listen to a bit of black metal (recently got into it and went diving in that rabbit hole, albeit knowing the history of the scene far before).

I won't go onto TOO much detail and such, it's mostly a post to drop what my highlights are alongside the ratings, alongside explaining it. Now a warning will have to go here. I will be talking about suicide, so for those who are sensitive about such a serious subject, I would advise to either click off this post or skip over a few of the sections. Now, without further a do, let's get our corpse paint on, dye our hair black, grab a box of matches, and hail Sata-

bazinga nuke

Now, for this movie, I have 2 sets of ratings, which will be explained for each, alongside my criticism for the film.

CW/TW: Mentions of suicide

As a full fleshed documentary of Mayhem and the Norwegian black metal scene, I give it a 6.5/10. It has the main events everyone knows and surprisingly deals with them in quite a straight forward way, which you can't say about a lot of films. Sure some people say the gore and actually making the scene where Dead kills himself is overdone/tone deaf/too much. But I say, it rather depicts the thought process and the actions of a suicidal person rather perfectly, at least from my own perspective; somebody who's been down so low it got to that point, despite not having any proper/actual attempts on my own life. However, a few details are wrong, and some things may have been added that were not actually true in the real life events, which is why it's a 6.5/10. It's good, but if taken as a documentary movie, it's not that factual. Then again, the film was based off a book, so I guess there's that to blame.

As a Mayhem-inspired film and one that again, is based on truths, and lies, I honestly give it a 9/10. When taken as a movie that's inspired by the real life events, and not 100% accurate, it's a rather great film, with, in my opinion, really good story telling. I especially liked the detail about Euronymous cutting his hair; alongside the flashbacks that were shown that Euro was having about Dead finally not being so nightmare-ish and reminiscing the good and fun times he had with Dead, it gives it that strong symbolism of coming to terms with the loss of Pelle, and realizing that he was just acting like a demented sick individual as a way to cope, and as a way to make Dead proud, at least from what I perceived, since I know people tend to cope with things differently. I have little to nothing to complain about. The only thing is, that the actor for Varg Vikernes doesn't quite look like Varg, not even in the slightest. However, nobody can fully replicate another person's face. Other than that, absolutely no complaints.

The one other thing I also liked was where Euronymous is having those flashbacks of Dead, and after finding his body in the Hen House, when they show that for a mere moment, he was crying and in disbelief at the situation. It also lightly ties back to the beginning after Øystein found Dead laying on his bed with his head open, he starts jumbling his words down in the kitchen, confused and almost as if he was blaming himself, since he had suggested to Pelle that "There is a way out of it. All it takes is 1 bullet to the head", seemingly regretting telling him that. It was only after all the overwhelming emotions that he decided to make a sick depraved thing out of it, and had done until his death, to, as I mentioned before, make Pelle proud.

These are my own personal views on the movie: some people say it sucks, some people think it's good, some people want to get some of that Trve Norwegian Black Metal dick (I'm looking at you TikTok gals). But yeah, that's all. Just wanting to share my own perception of Lords of Chaos and the real life events, and what I think of it :D

#mayhem band #mayhem dead #dead mayhem #euronymous #varg vikernes #pelle ohlin #per yngve ohlin #oystein aarseth #lords of chaos

[adultswim2021]

Titan Maximum #2: "Busted" | October 4, 2009 - 11:30PM | S01E02

The second dang episode of Titan Maximum is basically a second pilot, taking us through how the newly formed team navigates the bureaucracy of the future government in order to get a replacement giant robot to pilot and have space adventures with. There’s also a little bit of advancement with the villain of the show, a former member of the team. I don’t think I touched on that aspect even a little bit last time. The important thing to know is, they get themselves reinstated with the military and the little brother nerd kid is their new engineer, producing a new mech that’s seemingly superior in every way, except the face is hastily drawn on. The episode ends with them about to do their first actual episodic adventure.

The main characters on the show are mostly dicks. We see them do stuff that dicks do to be dicks and for no other reason other than because they are dicks. That’s the comedy, dicks being dicks. Okay. That’s fine, I guess, if you're not me. In this one we have a flashback to them raping the “statue of unity”, because they were drunk and acting arrogantly for, again, no real reason. Then at one point they do a joke where a grunt foot soldier in another part of the story says an obvious sexual joke out loud and there’s pronounced awkward silence. It’s just like, man, what point are you even making here?

There wasn’t a single funny joke in this whole episode. I started getting actually pissed off. So much so that I failed to keep good notes for this episode; I literally wrote “JESUS FUCKING CHRIST THIS SUCKS” in a few different iterations without saying what I was reacting to. I should’ve been writing stuff like “the mean slut is showing her tits and being nasty.” Why, it’s like a season three episode of Sealab 2021, except for it probably took a year to animate instead of an afternoon.

I watched this on adultswim.com, and I’m probably going to get a DVD or download of this or something to watch instead. I was literally getting like, cartoonishly angry at this show, so much so that I started punching stuff. I am a lunatic, yes, but usually bad shows don’t upset me this much. Then, midway through the episode? I swear to fucking god, there was like 4 minutes of ads. They just jammed a commercial break in and it took for fucking ever. Every time a new ad started I actually started growling. Lotta ads for new shows coming soon to HBOMax. They all look like shit. Goddamn, I have never hated an app more than that app. I am thankful I don’t actually pay for it myself. 

To make it even worse: the one thing I stated as a positive about this show was the closing credits, which they interrupt for a lame callback joke. Then after the credits are over, they include a tag where a housekeeper explains an earlier joke where somebody pees in their space suit thinking it has a waste collection receptacle even though it doesn’t. Yeah, I saw that episode of Venture Bros. too.

MAIL BAG

got me katanas i want you to know, slicing up doors i want you to know, girl it's home movies i want you to know, don't know about you but i am wack...y coach mcguirk, wanna grow up to be, be a bob belcher

this was nice, pal, and I got a good laugh outta the deal. Well, see ya!

What can Delocated do in Season 2 to win you back? You seemed really down on it by the end. You didn't even like the part where he named all of Paul Rudd's lesser known movies.

You are full of shit! I literally named the final episode my favorite episode so far. I think all the feelings I had for the show roughly resembled the feelings I had for it back when it premiered. You're ignorant, pal.

He was in Anchorman, and The 40 Year Old Virgin, he was in The Shape of Things. He was in Clueless and Romeo + Juliet. He did a thing in Reno 911: Miami. The Cider House Rules. P.S. The Oh In Ohio. Knocked Up. He had a series of Broadway credits: The Last Night of Ballyhoo. Three Days of Rain with Julia Roberts. Twelfth Night at Lincoln Center. HE WAS IN HOUSE HUNTING!

"I like this" -me. See, now leave me alone.

Honestly I really like the *premise* of Titan Maximum. it's surprisingly earnest with it's deconstruction of Voltron, the character drama, the running story had a lot of potential, it looks great, Even the implied worldbuilding is fun. But like you said, the character writing is AWFUL. It's like a time capsule of the late 2000s "Workaholics" writers' board (twitter DOT com/podimportant/status/1369836756971835402). It sucks cause I like everything else about it but it really brings it down.

I probably should've noted this in the first episode, but I've never been a Voltron devotee. I don't remember ever watching it as a kid, and I've only seen a couple episodes as an Adult out of curiosity. So some of this show is probably lost on me. But the writing is so bad, I would highly doubt it would add anything for me.

#adult swim #adultswim2021 #titan maximum

[leelei1980]

In honor of Father's Day I wrote a little toddler dad Eddie blurb. Hope you like it! Sorry it’s a few days late!

Daddy’s Girl

Eddie:

You had been waiting for this moment all day. You pull into the parking lot of  Sunny Smiles Childcare and pre-school to pick up the sweetest, cutest child in the world, your daughter Coco. She was the light of your life. You loved your wife but it was different, this was your baby girl, your flesh and blood. You didn't know it was possible to love anything as much as you loved her.

You were scared as hell the day that your then fiancée told you she was pregnant, that things were happening a little sooner than expected, but you were happy.

The thought that you would soon be responsible for another living being, one that would rely on you for everything blew your mind. Were you really ready for this? Would you be a good dad? Would you know what to do? One thing was certain- you would love this little Munson with everything you had, you would be the father that you never had. This child would know how much you loved them, and how important they were to you.

You read every ' What to expect' book that they had, went to every Doctor appointment and cried the first time you heard the baby's heartbeat. You would sing and talk to the baby bump , put your headphones on her belly and play your music. You would get so excited when the baby would kick.

" See? The baby already knows their Daddy's voice. You know I love you, don't ya my little baby bean? You've got great taste in music too. "

You went to birthing classes, you were the only long haired, Metalhead dad in the class, and were as attentive and caring and supportive as you could be to the mom to be. You loved her with all your heart.

When the big day came you tried to be calm and collected, your partner needed you. You would wipe her head with a cool cloth and offer words of encouragement.

" You are so amazing Sweetheart, you are so strong. Is there anything I can do Princess,to make you more comfortable? Need a back rub baby? We are going to get through this, your doing so good baby, just one more push. "

You wept tears of joy as you held your your perfect little baby girl. You marveled at her head full of dark brown hair, her tiny little fingers and toes. Coco Brinley Munson- she was beautiful. She was part of you.

You were very hands on, not shying away from any fatherly task- feeding, changing, bathing , you weren't afraid to help out in any way , after all, this was your baby too.

It amazed you, the changes a baby goes through the first year- they go from just lying there, not doing anything to smiling and laughing, growing teeth and eating real food, playing peek a boo and crawling and walking. The first time you heard your little Coco Bean say 'Dada' you lost your shit, then you felt stupid because surely it was just her babbling away. When she looked at you and said' Dada!' again you knew it was the real deal.

" Holy shit Babe, did you hear it? She really fucking said it! She said Dada! Her first word was Dada!" You picked Coco up and hugged her and she giggled in your arms.

" Rub it in why don't ya Ed's. Well if you don't watch your mouth, Dada, her second word is going to be Shit or Fuck." Your fiancée laughed.

" Oh shit- I mean shoot! Your right."

You followed her around and baby proofed the whole goddamn house when she started walking, safety latches on all the cupboard doors and covers on the outlets . Nothing was going to happen to this kid on your watch.

You loved nap time and bedtime, you would read Coco books and tell her stories using different voices for each one of the characters and she would look up at you in wonderment with big , chocolate button eyes. You could tell when she was just about to fall asleep because she would twirl her curly dark hair around her finger and the slow blinking would start until she was out.

She was a smart girl, walking and talking full sentences earlier than usual, you figured it was a) she was a genius, of course, b) because you guys spent so much time reading and playing and though she didn't have a lot of interaction with kids her own age , she was social, your friends and the members of the Hellfire club would come over and they would all take turns playing with her. They were all so gentle and careful with her. She was a Hellfire member in training and would sit on you knee as the campaigns would play out and she seemed to be entranced by it all.

She was three now and it felt like it happened overnight, and as much as you wanted to keep her home it was time for her to be with children her own age, and Mama was ready to go back to work,so Sunny Smiles it was. Your friend Robin had worked there during summers when she was on break from college and she said that Coco would be well taken care of there.

That morning you both dropped her off and gave her hugs and kisses and walked her to the toddler room. She looked on in amazement at the toys and books and other children playing. After a few tears she went off to a little kitchenette in the corner of the room with another little girl and started to play. You tried to sneak out but she caught you and ran to give you one last hug.

" Have fun my little Monster." You squeezed her and kissed the top of her head.

She smiled up at you and put two fingers behind her head and stuck out her tongue. " Daddy do the Munson Monster face too!"

You did and she giggled then ran off to play again.

Now it was finally time to see your sweet girl and see how her day went.

You walk in the door and go down the hallway to her classroom, carefully peeking in. You see her sitting on a bench, with her rain boots and jacket on and her favorite stuffed animal, 'Tired Teddy' , the bear that she would not nap or lay down without, cradled in her arms. She didn't see you until you were halfway across the room.

" Daddy! Daddy!" She smiled and ran across the room , Teddy in tow.

You squatted down arms open wide and scooped her up and she giggled as you spun her around. " How was my Coco Beans first day? Did you have fun? I bet you made a lot of friends!"

She nodded and buried her head in your chest, playing with your hair. "Missed you Daddy."

" I missed you too bean, but I knew that you were here having a fun time so that made me feel better. " You kiss the top of her head. " Couldn't wait to see my girl! How come you have your coat and boots on?"

" I was readyta go home."

" Ready to go see Mama?"

" Uh huh." She looked tired, she must have played hard today.

" Alright my little Princess, let's go get your backpack and head home." You grabbed her things from her cubby, had a little chat with her daycare provider, who said that she was a sweet little girl , a little shy today but she made some friends and really enjoyed story time. I thanked her for the update then took Coco out to the car and buckled her into her car seat.

" Daddy?"

" Yes babygirl?"

" Play my song? "

" The ants go marching song or the puppet song?"

" Puppet, pleeese!"

" You got it beaner." I smiled to myself and popped a tape into the cassette player in the car. Master of Puppets started playing and I heard her say. "Yes!"

I pulled out of daycare and started home, checking my rear view mirror often and watching her bob her head to the beat. So fucking adorable and she had great taste in music.

" Master! Master!" She sang while pointing her fingers in the air.

I laughed." You sing it my little Metal Princess!! You make daddy so proud!"

Coco beamed, dimples on full display. "Just like daddy!"

" That's right,Sweetness, just like Daddy.”

#eddie munson #eddie fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fanfic

[kylesvariouslistsandstuff]

Much Ado About MOANA

Say it ain't so!

Walt Disney Pictures is working on a live-action "reimagining" of MOANA that will involve Dwayne Johnson himself, who of course voiced Maui in the original animated feature directed by Ron Clements and John Musker for Walt Disney Animation Studios and released in 2016.

As of now, the movie has three forthcoming extensions: This project, a land at Epcot in Walt Disney World, and an animated series being produced at WDAS (namely its recently-opened Vancouver unit) for Disney+.

I used to grouse to the moon and back about how much I detested much of these particular remakes and reimaginings of Disney's animated features and characters. You know, the ones made in the aftermath of Tim Burton's ALICE IN WONDERLAND throughout the 2010s, and even into now. I used to see them as something of a threat to animation's reputation, and they all came at us fast! MALEFICENT in 2014, CINDERELLA in 2015, THE JUNGLE BOOK (a largely CGI movie with one live actor and maybe like, 5 real-life plants) and ALICE THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS in 2016, BEAUTY AND THE BEAST in 2017, and a five-finger-punch of DUMBO, ALADDIN, THE LION KING, a MALEFICENT sequel, and LADY AND THE TRAMP in 2019... And then MULAN in 2020, CRUELLA in 2021, and PINOCCHIO this past year. Mixed in with these movies were a genuine new take on hybrid film PETE'S DRAGON and a legacy sequel to MARY POPPINS, MARY POPPINS RETURNS. Even Burton's ALICE, which got this whole ball rolling, was pretty much its own thing, ditto the 2016 sequel.

On the horizon? PETER PAN & WENDY, THE LITTLE MERMAID, SNOW WHITE, MUFASA: THE LION KING, BAMBI, THE SWORD IN THE STONE, a JUNGLE BOOK sequel, THE ARISTOCATS, ROBIN HOOD, THE CHRONICLES OF PRYDAIN (which the 1985 animated feature THE BLACK CAULDRON was adapted from), THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE DAME, HERCULES, and LILO & STITCH. Now MOANA joins the ranks, the first all-CG animated Disney film to get the "live-action" treatment.

That's a ton of remakes in the span of almost 10 years, if we peg the actual start of this trend with 2014's MALEFICENT.

I think I've only seen... ALICE IN WONDERLAND, and THE JUNGLE BOOK, in full. I refused to watch the others. Back then it was out of protest and me just genuinely not being interested, nowadays? It's just the latter. These things aren't for me, and that's okay I guess. They haven't erased animation, nor did other recent "realistic" takes on animated classics, such as the 2017 GHOST IN THE SHELL movie with Scarlett Johansson. It hit me one day at my cinema job when THE LION KING was released. The Cinemark that I work at used to have a cart for movie merchandise, including things like T-shirts and Funko Pops and such. Most of the merchandise for the remakes that came out that year? Were for the animated originals... (I use the word loosely, but... You know what I mean!) I'd say it was an 85/15 ratio. Some stuff for the new remake, but mostly stuff for the classic animated movies that inspired them... It hit me... These are just over-glorified theatrical re-releases of the animated classics, made to move some merch and stuff at your local Hot Topic. It's kind of a weird transition from the way Disney used to keep their films in the public eye, whether it was a re-release cycle from the 1940s up until the mid-1990s, or their video releases being available for a limited time before being retired to the infamous "Disney Vault" (a ruthless marketing strategy thankfully put to rest with the arrival of Disney+ in 2019).

But in 2017-ish, I remember just being so goddamn grumpy about these things. Made worse by various directors, actors, and producers involved with the remakes making disparaging remarks about the classic movies for being... Well... **Animated**. Imagine that! The director of live-action BEAUTY AND THE BEAST declared that filming that story with real people gave it layers of psychological depth and nuance or some such bullshit. An actor on ALADDIN said almost verbatim the same exact thing. Disney stressed that their LION KING remake wasn't animated, even though the entire thing except a single shot was computer generated and "animated"! Then of course, several folks involved with the remakes making up nonsense about the princesses and heroines in the originals. We're seeing that now, even, with THE LITTLE MERMAID. Though these particular remarks about classic Disney heroines are nothing new, they remain nonetheless a bit irritating and proof that media literacy is lacking in many people. Then again, we do live in a world where people constantly parrot nonsense like "Batman is a rich guy who beats up poor people" and "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer is about being bullied until you're useful to your bullies."

Some people just don't pay attention to what they watch, do they?

But really, the remakes come, make a lot of noise, often times make a crapton of money at the box office... And then they just... Disappear. Like, it was insisted that BEAUTY AND THE BEAST 2017 fixed the plot holes of the 1991 movie and was "darker", more "adult", whatever- Uhhh, I don't really feel its presence anymore, whereas the 1991 animated movie directed by Kirk Wise and Gary Trousdale? Still here, still beloved, still holds up. I guess you could not outmode the dumb ol' kiddie cartoon, now could you? All that "darker" and "more psychology" talk is gimmicks at best, and most folks just kinda watch 'em because they saw the originals... and then that's it. It's a movie, it's a thing, it exists. You got what was on the tin: It's [insert Disney movie here], all over again!

This all being said... Now the CG movies are fair game, and possibly Pixar's some time in the future. It ain't just the 2D movies they're going after anymore. Look at Universal, they're readying a HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON live-action movie for 2025 with Dean DeBlois himself - director of all three of the animated DreamWorks HTTYD movies - at the helm! It's either going to be a straight-up live-action version of the DreamWorks adaptation released back in 2010, or it's going to be a whole new take on Cressida Cowell's book series. I hope it's the latter, honestly, then I might give it my attention.

To this day, many rightfully concerned folks still feel that these live-action/photorealistic remakes insult pure animation. Pure animation as in, animation that KNOWS it's animated. Straight-up cartoon or abstract. That Hollywood sees animated movies as but a "stepping stone" to superior live-action, but really... What I see is this... Money. People love an animated movie or show? Money. How many different coats of paint can we put on the car?

Some are asking... Why not just a MOANA sequel?

The weird thing about that is, Ron Clements and John Musker left Disney Animation. They were last seen developing a METAL MEN movie for Warner Animation Group. Of course, the directors being off on a new adventure doesn't mean anything in capitalism, Disney could plow ahead with a MOANA sequel if they wanted to. But they choose not to at the moment, only this and a D+ series. Kind of keeping in line with a history of not really making sequels in-house, and the days of outsourced direct-to-video fare has been loooooong over. (The remakes are often compared to the DTV sequels of the '90s and '00s, and for good reason. They're little more than brand extensions, and you can ex 'em out of the equation if you so choose to do so. Disney EU or Disney "Elseworlds" if you will...)

But what's actually seemingly upsetting is that... In the past few months, on the year of Disney's 100th anniversary... Most of the movie announcements have been nothing but continuations and brand extensions. They also serve as a nice distraction from needless layoffs, but yes... The big announcements have been things like TOY STORY 5, FROZEN III, ZOOTOPIA 2, Live-Action MOANA, etc. etc.

However, one ought to look closer. In-between all the franchisey stuff and synergetic things, there's still original movies being made... Like, there's not only 20th Century Studios continuing to make new live-action movies that aren't remakes or re-dos or new adaptations of books (y'all seen THE MENU and BARBARIAN last year? Great stuff! Highly recommended.), but you still have Pixar. From March 2020 to March 2022? Four straight original animated movies: ONWARD, SOUL, LUCA, TURNING RED. After spin-off LIGHTYEAR, we're getting ELEMENTAL in two months, ELIO in spring 2024, and presumably many more on the horizon.

Oh, but ELEMENTAL looks "mid", you say? "A parody of Pixar"? Or whatever else is being mindlessly parroted at the moment? Whatever, I don't know what to say to that, but like it or not, a movie like ELEMENTAL is the rare original movie from Disney, a small island in a sea of remakes, Marvel, and Star Wars. Ditto ELIO, and again, whatever is in the works after that that isn't a sequel.

And of course, Walt Disney Animation Studios, who have all but abandoned literary adaptations outside of public domain fairy tales, keeps up with original stuff, too. After releasing no new movies in 2017, two back-to-back sequels from 2018-2019 and taking 2020 off due to COVID-19 complications, they hit us with RAYA AND THE LAST DRAGON, ENCANTO, and STRANGE WORLD. Next up is WISH, also an original story, despite the weird way it was presented and reported on at D23. Whatever releases after that, I do not know, but FROZEN III and ZOOTOPIA 2 aren't the only things in development there. Plus, they have partnered with Nigerian upstart studio Kugali to make an original show for Disney+ called IWAJU.

Much like the reception ELEMENTAL is getting online, a movie that isn't even out yet, a lot of the recent WDAS output and what's next is just being written off... But it's all there, it's original, it's a mere morsel of something coming out of the company that seems to be all about them brands. I'm not blaming audiences specifically for, say, STRANGE WORLD's epic floppage this past holiday season, buuuuut- Those numbers are looked at, and they possibly bring about consequences.

I do get the worries, though. Under former CEO Bob Chapek, we saw Pixar's originals post-ONWARD all go straight to streaming while franchise entry LIGHTYEAR hit the big screen... and lost money. WDAS movies had a hard time, too. RAYA did a day-and-date thing with Disney+ before most of the vaccine rollout, ENCANTO dealt with Delta and Omicron before being a huge hit at home, STRANGE WORLD was straight up left for dead after testing very poorly.

With Bob Iger back in charge, Chapek's strong pivot to streaming is being reversed, as it's being realized that streaming is not the be-all end-all of the movie world. And sharp eyes knew it never would be, either, but you know how things go in capitalism: New thing shows up, abandon everything for the new thing! Disaster! Hey, that's how hand-drawn animated features prematurely got the boot circa 2001. Anyways- Yes, Iger rearranged a lot of things, and now the release strategies and marketing campaigns are back in the hands of the studios and creatives, and I'm pretty sure that there's an effort, a commitment to make ELEMENTAL the first Pixar box office success in four years. That's right, the last Pixar movie to make its money back at the box office was... TOY STORY 4... Back in 2019... And you wonder why a fifth one was greenlit?

I'd imagine Iger saw how Chapek and co mandated Pixar to send TURNING RED straight to streaming, and knew what to do from there. Ditto how, on the WDAS front, STRANGE WORLD was just straight up abandoned. TURNING RED probably would've made ENCANTO or BAD GUYS numbers at best, which wouldn't have been enough for its hefty budget (Pixar needs to stop overspending on these things), but I wonder what's in store for ELEMENTAL. Few animated movies post-2020 have passed the $100m threshold domestically, and I feel that is due to how many trips to the movies families can afford a year. (Say the line, Kyle: In 2014, statistics showed that the average American family goes to the movies four times a y-) It's opening amidst a ton of blockbusters and other animated family movies, including Disney's own LITTLE MERMAID, and the fifth INDIANA JONES movie. Maybe movies should just be more affordable? And theaters, better places to sit down and see a movie? I can see why many just don't go anymore, again, having worked at a theater for 7 1/2 years (and ready to move on to something better).

Or better yet, Pixar and WDAS need not spend more than $150m on the movies that they make. DreamWorks, Illumination, Sony, et al. put out dynamic-looking movies that are rewriting the CG animation book for way less, WDAS and Pixar should probably consider that. Leave the tech-flexing to things like that LION KING remake and prequel, let their animated movies experiment and have fun again. But even movies they don't seem to be flexing tech cost so much. Why, though? I know in California, these things are expensive, but DreamWorks is based out of California, too. I guess that Moonray software they themselves created and other solutions have gotten their movies to cost less than $100m each time out. Well, WDAS opened their Vancouver unit, so maybe they can up them to feature status? Like they did with the defunct Florida unit way back when? Split the effort with Vancouver, lower the cost? I dunno, just spit-balling here.

Basically, I don't want ELEMENTAL and WISH to come up short at the box office. Or any of the original stuff coming out, period. Again, WDAS, Pixar, and 20th Century/Searchlight are like Disney's last outlets for that kind of stuff on the movie end of things. 20th is fine and good, because in small-scale live-action, most of the time the studios know how to be smart with budgets. $150m budgets make the average WDAS and Pixar movie a risk, that they have to get on the stage and essentially perform like a Marvel movie just to break even! That's a lot to ask of an original animated movie! And not even the WDAS name nor the Pixar name can guarantee people will show up, both have had their fair share of flops. And now, judging by how ANT-MAN AND THE WASP: QUANTUMANIA is doing, the Marvel name ain't a guarantee anymore either. Ditto Star Wars, remember how SOLO just sorta existed at the box office and lost a lot of money? TV and elsewhere is a different story, of course, there's plenty of original stuff to choose from there.

MOANA Live-Action is likely being made to fund the fun cool stuff, much in the same way sequels help fund originals. They... Pay the bills, shall we say.

In other words, I'm just indifferent. Whatever. Tell me more about the original stuff coming out, and you'll have my ear.

#moana #live-action remake #disney #unorganized thoughts #opinions

[likecrapthroughagoose]

So I've only watched the first episode of Gamera Rebirth, but so far I'm torn, but optimistic. Full opinions below...

On the one hand, it felt kind of middling... I don't love the animation, for one thing. I don't hate it, per se, but... the human characters have a very early-mid-00's Toonami vibe and it doesn't always work. When it does, I like it. It's nostalgic. When it doesn't, it looks really, really cheap. The monster animation is decent, but it doesn't blend with the backgrounds well for the smaller Gyaos. Also, the weird photorealistic smoke effects that appear every time they're on screen are really distracting (honestly I worry they may have been partially AI).

I'll reserve judgement on the story as again, I've only seen the first episode. What I've seen thus far is very twee, which wouldn't bother me that much, except that they also don't actually show any real kaiju action until the second half of the episode. And I know Godzilla Singular Point also did a lot of slow burn stuff, but the difference is that I liked the story there. Singular Point also did its political scenes a lot better, and that's all I'll say about that for right now. Again though... that's just episode one. Pretty much every anime these days takes a few episodes to get going.

All that said... for everything I can criticize, there's a part of me that was just going "yup, that's Gamera" the whole time. Silly and harmless if mildly annoying plot about boyhood adventures contrasted with some surprisingly gory and truly brutal kaiju on kaiju violence. That's pretty much Showa-era Gamera in a nutshell. If you ever watched a Gamera flick and So I guess what I'm saying is, the monster stuff was cool enough that I can forgive the plot stupidity; and really, what more can any kaiju fan ask for?

Speaking of monsters, I like the designs a lot! Gamera's look seems to mainly be based on his Heisei-era design, but make no mistake, it's an absolutely brand new take on the look. 90's Gamera had a sleek, tall, almost modern feel. Something classy that could easily be slightly chibified so the various Heisei trilogy actresses could pose with it. (Which of course would lead to the overly cutesy Gamera the Brave design which I hate).

Rebirth's Gamera is a lot more rugged. There's something almost ancient about him, a bit dinosaur-like. Most importantly, he's a lot chonkier. I always stan thicc kaiju. He's a lot more feral-looking than any other Gamera design (unless you think Showa Gamera looked like he had rabies). He is not particularly cute, so naturally I think he's adorable because that's my whole thing. I want a plushie.

Speaking of feral, goddamn the Gyaos redesign was pretty awesome. They are absolutely nasty looking, especially the juveniles with the big gross eyes. I want a plushie of the baby Gyaos too. They're so nasty and I just wanna snuggle and squeeze them. The big one is great as well, but I wish they had gone even more over the top with it. Not like any of them stay in one piece long enough to really be appreciated... not that I'm complaining, of course.

Anyway I intend to keep watching. I feel like I haven't quite gotten a feel for exactly what they're doing, but at the very least they've piqued my interest.

#gamera #gamera rebirth #kaiju #netflix #gyaos #first thoughts

[unsleepingtales]

Burrow’s End Episode Six Reactions! (And AP!)

Allow me to preface this by saying that my computer broke this week, I am doing all my schoolwork and real job work on my cellphone right now, and the following is transcribed from the reactions I wrote down in a real physical notebook while watching the episode on my phone.

If you’re wondering how I wrote emojis in my notebook. The small drawings are very bad. Onwards!

BUT SHE’S DEAD 💀

Some sort of mutation going on w/the giant thing?

Diversity Win! The threatening First Stoat uses they/them pronouns!

Bennett :D

She does tai chi 😎

Oh the twins! (So fun bc one of the main groups in my current home game is Also called the Twins)

Is this a dept head meeting or smth?

That’s. Creepy.

Ok.

OOP-

Blow up his spot lmaooo

I’m living for Brennan’s reality check analogies

Human ish teeth?

Erika Ishii I love you ❤️

Aabria the character voice you are doing for Kiran is Hot.

I KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE???

I need Bennett to not be a bad guy ok? I need it.

What are you saying man

Brennan’s just Dying

That was pure Erika oh my god

Oh she’s full of it alright!

(‘Keep going’) oh Izzy <3

Y’know what if I was on the team to renter a nuclear power plant that had a reactor failure and I saw thousands of militant stoats I think I would just leave. Let them have it.

On the what, Ava?

Yeah no especially if those stoats were using the fucking nuclear power?? I’d just leave.

At least she remembers their hallway is blue.

I’m curious if everyone switching so quickly from calling it Blue to Light is a DnD/Improv/Adaptation thing or a characters assimilating thing? Maybe both? Maybe it’s conscious maybe not?

I’m still thinking about how smooth Aabria’s “Weap-Technology” was when introducing the departments

He’s not asking you to run. He’s asking you to stay.

I’m glad Aabria keeps pushing back when they read negative or nefarious intentions into things that one the face of it truly are just typical to this kind of situation and society

The family vibes are So correct.

Horrible. I hated that.

The most it’s possible to be.

Yeah, okay.

KIDS.

Oh god. Oh no.

Good GOD Tula

The SIDE EYE on that Jesus

Muahahahaha

Oh NO.

That went on for so long

I am Unnerved.

Hell Yes babe

GET HIS ASS I GUESS???

They’re like teenagers now right?

Well That was intense!

The casualness in Aabria’s asking for the stealth check while taking a sip. She does not give a fuck and I love her for it.

Check it out!

Do we not get to find out what happened to Ava with the Garage?

Oh that’s So creepy

MMHMM

I love Ava’s refusal to learn

YES THIEVES’ CANT MY BELOVED THIEVES’ CANT <3

I think what she said was “please help.” Which is different.

SIOBHAN.

Oh that’s gonna be merch.

The crack of noon is so true

THE COPPER PUN NICE ONE AABRIA

Ohohohohoho. The Dictator. Lovely.

🎶don’t be suspicious, don’t be suspicious🎶

Oh my GOD

Brennan of all people saying finally some action on this goddamn show

Also Brennan’s reactions to Izzy’s reactions… so funny to watch the face journeys happening at the table rn.

Love that for them

OH

A population support state 😭

Oh god oh fuck

MAP???

Oh holy fucking shit

I can’t wait to rewatch this on my computer so I can actually see and appreciate the detail. Oh my god.

Ooh the puzzle of it all is intriguing

“I’m gonna kill him.”

Jabroni <3

OOF.

Oh my god <3

That was really cool Brennan.

Ooh just noticed the dome!

Hey Brennan? That was really cool.

Everyone’s got Thoughts.

Oh yeah jump into the nuclear juice. Great.

Ava.

YES

Awwww

PUZZLE

Oh no

I need to get the build details of this map

Oh. My god.

HE WAS THERE THE WHOLE TIME

Knight to C4 😭

That’s a fucking human skull.

Oh what does That mean

Huzzah.

(Most dejected/exhausted huzzah of all time)

God the comedy we do get in this season is so so gooOH

Not the wisdom saves 😭

Izzy.

Sometimes the dice fell a STORY.

Yeah okay

Oh god

Oh Jasper

Oh the stress is insane. Losing Jaysohn would break this family.

This can’t be the end of the episode?

Oh ok

OH FOR FUCKS SAKE

I love when DMs get to play DnD

DAD ARM

Nice catch!

OH I did not register that that’s the fucking radiation hazard symbol

Everyone at that table is so close to tears

AVA AND THORNNNN

Thorn himself <3

DOME.

Oh FUCK.

Preview for next week reactions:

What the FUCK.

WOLF??

I love JWC oh my god.

Adventuring Party Reactions!

Oh they’re jokingly pissed at her lmao

Woooo chipotle

Erika <3

I gUeSs I MiSsEd HiM

Aabria.

Erika takes METHOD NOTES

I’m so glad I’m not the only one who went ‘diversity win!’

Brennan Lee “Animal Facts” Mulligan strikes again

Felt so happy about seeing the human skull.

Jasper that’s such a fascinating theory oh my god

The intense NY came out

Okay but after this season… CAN we get set tours?

Yeah I am so curious about the in-world justification for the giant stone puzzle on top of the reactor.

OKAY thank you Jasper and Aabria I am Also a big reactor in games and sometimes I worry about being disruptive

I wanna go back and figure out what noise he’s talking about

Voice actor things! (Happy SAG Deal day!!)

I love actors so much. They are all FRIENDS.

#burrow’s end #verbal component #reactions #adventuring party #burrow's end

[incarnateirony]

they banned people from promoting projects because promoting projects is LABOR, and the point of a strike is withholding LABOR. you were given sources directly from the striking organizations. please use your noodle instead of doubling down in direct opposition of what they have asked for.

You're actually all morons that rolled into town that went "THIS IS MISINFORMATION" and failed to you know, click through the post you squealing children commented on that already shot down your terrible reasoning and flooded it full of interpretations. Sorry, but you're just poorly educated.

It's LABOR that gives MARKETING you fucking buffoons. They're even given permission to DO OTHER LABOR DEPENDING. That's why Silverman is so pissed. You don't get to pick and choose to cling to your shit.

In fact you guys are SO headass you don't see where you're actually projecting forced definitions at things that continue your influence, and reblogged a post that said shit like "I need an adult to tell me what to do" sarcastically brainlessly trotting out "WELL THEY HAVENT CALLED FOR IT."

I'm sorry, but the "I want to still watch my TV show" brigade isn't gonna shame the blog that's been ahead of this shit. No shit Sherlock, they Havent Called. They can't. I have a whole post breaking down the LEGAL REASONS BEHIND THEIR PHRASING.

No, they don't actually Lose Leverage. That's a mystical pipedream lost in 2008 forgetting they're trying to replace them with AI. It is an internal view of a minority population. Yall are just REAL LOUD. People causing your braindead takes without understanding the legal fuckery are saying such shit as "I have to strike". Not I want to. Not I support this. Have to. And it sucks, because it's one of my fave authors doing it. "I have to" instead of "yes, and I endorse it."

Every year on every media topic a bunch of numpty fans or fringe media workers try to argue with me on shit, which is genuinely funny, since I've been warning of *this* since 2017, specifically "by 2024" and [checks watch] oh, look at that.

I'm not boosting you guys taking any chance to shove your misinformation and self justification in the pipe by reblogging your spam that confirms you do, in fact, need an adult to tell you in small direct words what to do.

The legal inability to make a decree or force someone, and it being Personal Choice--the words of the breakouts, not mine--one you guys REALLY dont like tolerating--is so far above your goddamn heads it's in outter space or some shit. Media LOVES the poorly educated. And your Fave that wants Ahead Of the Pack when the industry crunches does too. Because he "has to" strike and man, as a high earner, these stupid lil guys are fuckin' him up. 2.x% voted not to strike, too. The inability for the union to force their members to certain ends is not the same as you knucklefucks "I attack anyone that makes me feel bad". You can side with the 240 assholes. I side with everyone else. Because, again, That Is A Personal Choice.

See, I'll give you a choice: You can ill this puppy or not kill this puppy. This will be a personal choice. If you choose to kill the puppy, well, you're an asshole, and thats still your choice, but oh well?

Listen guys, you're coming at me as fans. I am not coming at you as fans. I am not. In fact I literally can not tell you what I am coming at this as. So you can flail and thrash and go BUT MY FAVE SHOW and throw up 20 times "BUT!!! THEY HAVENT CALLED FOR--" haven't called for doesn't mean Dont Do. In fact, they've never said Dont Do, while you're at it, they've just said Personal Choice. It is your Personal Choice to sit here attacking someone that knows wtf is going on internally way better than you, too. So yes, you do in fact need a preferred adult to tell you in small words like you're five. Once you catch up on the legal reasoning, and realize the "leverage" excuse is dead, suddenly you realize, you have no points. None. But some of you are SO headass you went "BUT LEVERAGE" on a reblog pointing out that leverage doesnt exist with the AI installations. So you can just. Pay the bot man now I guess.

Thing is, you ain't able to actually control this, since the majority of this is real world mouthtravel. Oh, by the way, I pledged to make informative posters to distribute in a new metro area every time an uneducated knucklefuck dropped in.

"Reasons to NOT boycott" "I wasn't told directly to do so" is not a reason. Even from your outside seat, all you're confessing is having no independent thought and needing to be told how to make decisions. Even WITHOUT the legal limitations barring why it WILL never be announced short of the guilt itself hitting suicide bomb pact level. Oh wait you motherfuckin idiots don't realize there's that potential repurcussion if they do it as a whole.

Admit to yourselves you're just trying to watch TV and attacking anyone that makes you feel bad about it. Which is funny, cuz the WGA hasn't told you to do that either. They told you it was a Personal Decision. But you're still running with it because, oh my god my friends are making moral choices and I feel this makes me look bad if I don't?????????????

Get the fuck out of here with your consumer bullshit. Keep paying the studios and telling yourself you're giving the writers leverage while you're just showing the studios "oh yes you can threaten to terminate all their contracts and actively replace them with a robot and continue to receive my money". Yes much leverage very wow. Or you know the leverage might be responding to the threat to drop all their authors and not tolerating it until they stop attempting it, and returning when they stop doing it, because you dumb motherfuckers apparently don't get how leverage works. The Leverage claim ends when they're being replaced with robots or their contracts terminated. That's not leverage. That's you being an idiot and/or in best argument, trying to watch your Fave to show why your Fave shouldn't be cut, just like Everybody Else Does THeir Faves, so nothing is changed.

If staying subscribed was leverage they wouldn't be about to get bulk contract cancelled and replaced by AI right now. Catch. Up. The plot is SO FAR PAST the level you are thinking on.

I'm over it. Every reblog you guys have made on your little attempted controlling tizzy has added a metro area for me to print shit out in. Keep going. I count 5 since I woke up. That's five metro areas I will be distributing bulk flyers in. If you would like to continue to argue and flood me with uneducated self justification bullshit that the WGA also hasn't told you to do while flying it as your banner, you can just add more cities I will release flyers in. To put it in WGA terms since that's the only thing you tend to understand, that's my Personal Choice. Your personal choice at this point is how fast you wanna message your friends to prevent several million people across the US from getting my physical message to tell them to shut the fuck up and leave my leaker blog be, because not only are you WOEFULLY uneducated and working on confirmation biases and none-arguments, but you are in fact adding a boost to my message one metro area at a time.

Your lack of understanding of the scale of this and your inability to tell where you are projecting interpretations at neutral statements is your fucking low reading level problem. Not mine. Your inability to understand why about 3% of authors amidst dozens of thousands don't like the idea is YOUR lack of discernment. You cannot force that on people who have front stepped WGA events from knowing, or even made one such author fuckin teleport out of a room when he tried Just That Line. "The WGA hasn't called for" "You and I both know they can't." [teleport, silence] Sorry, no.

[wrestlezon]

(hell yeah. heres a whole post blogging about my blog. i hope you like introspective words. if not... then definitely dont click that readmore)

I posted 3,572 times in 2022

That's 3,572 more posts than 2021!

(well... a respectable amount... for this being the first year of Blog Existing)

370 posts created (10%)

3,202 posts reblogged (90%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

pepsitwist

dogcollarpunk

hoodyhoo

allelitewrestlings

(3 people with the best tastes on the site and a fantastic sourced aew content blog. hell yea ofc these were my most reblogged blogs)

I tagged 3,533 of my posts in 2022

Only 1% of my posts had no tags

(oh no. where are they. where are these 40 untagged posts?? how could i leave them BARREN... NO... THEYRE LOST... OUT IN THE COLD...)

#chuck taylor - 576 posts

#orange cassidy - 570 posts

#cm punk - 500 posts

#fanart - 406 posts

#p - 291 posts

#trent beretta - 229 posts

#talkzon - 221 posts

#mjf - 220 posts

#jon moxley - 201 posts

#eddie kingston - 198 posts

(ah yes my top 3 favorite wrestlers. chuck, orange, cm punk. of course. LMAO. funnily enough the pipeline for me was in that exact reverse order... punk vs eddie got me watching the show, then i saw an orange match and was like hey thats fun and cool, then i was like hold up... whos that weird-cute guy who hangs out with him sometimes... and now here i am. with incurable chuck taylor brain worms.)

(ok. actually the story is a bit more ironic than that but if i get too openly genuine on here i'll break out in hives sooooo moving on)

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#excalibur said something last friday along the lines of ''hes not willing to team up with danhausen yet'' which made me laugh out loud. ''ye

(my tag got cut off... i think this is before xkit rewritten added the ''tag too long'' alert for the quicktags thing. i dont even remember what the rest of it was supposed to be... this was on a gifset of the hook birthday chips incident)

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

thank you aew broadcast team for the instant replay alternate angle on wardlow's very cool pin

295 notes - Posted July 13, 2022

(...i liked wardlow better when he was a vaguely amoral henchman guy but i can appreciate A Very Cool Pin)

#4

"One word to describe me? GAY"

295 notes - Posted October 17, 2022

(the people need to know. they need to know max caster is an entertaining and somewhat unhinged weirdo)

#3

listen. look. i need you to understand. look at this.

SLOUCHED. HANDS BEHIND HIS BACK. HEAD BENT DOWN. cm punk spends most of his promo at this point AVOIDING EYE CONTACT. he never even holds the goddamn mic!!! punk is posturing SO hard to appear as a small harmless creature. so much smaller than hangman.

which he factually ISNT. i mean, look at how he looks when he stands up straight, when he isn't trying to put on an appearance.

See the full post

325 notes - Posted May 26, 2022

(oh noooo lmaoooo not my overly excited cm punk theory-effortpost... embarrassing...... even more embarrassing in hindsight... u_u "wow theyre doing such a good job of working together to tell this fictional story of conflict and antagonism! such acting! such subtlety! wait. what. no. are you guys mad for real. what the")

#2

See the full post

389 notes - Posted June 4, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

how im feeling about that upcoming dog collar match

752 notes - Posted March 5, 2022

(honestly the most shocking part of this was seeing people out in the wild think this was where the sickos meme came from? which doesnt even make sense chronologically?? sickos has been around forever!!! and the original comic is so good. i am not deserving of kartoonist kelly's onion comic clout i am just a wrestle blog)

(also. i have to say. getting into wrestling right as the cmjf feud started was such a mistake... it set the bar too high... wrestling is not normally Like That... ;~;)

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#year in review #talkzon #why do they add like 4 different tags for ''year in review''. no. i will have a single one