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#hey all!!! i feel super tired and week but i've spent the entire day
megumi-fm · 8 months
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resuming to productivity
hey besties I haven't been regular for a while now and i think it's finally time to admit the elephant in the room. I'm not going to use words like executive dysfunction and burnout because if i'm entirely honest I don't really know what they mean and I'm afraid that I'd be appropriating these terms and/or greatly exaggerating my situation, but yeah, I'm struggling. I've been struggling for a while
A lot of work has been piling up over the weeks and for that exact reason I don't wanna do any of it and then more keeps piling up and. the vicious cycle just keeps going. I've been consuming way too much caffeine for my own good, and on the days I don't have access to coffee/energy drinks (which is usually the weekends when I'm home and my mom refuses to indulge my caffeine addiction) I'm passed out for most hours of the day. I'm avoiding most of my problems by doom-scrolling and my friends have been gaming on discord so I conveniently join them instead of getting any of my work done. And it's not like I'm enjoying either; everything I do to avoid work, I do while feeling completely stressed out and frozen. It's been... bad
and like yeah I know that at the root of all this procrastination and avoidance is really just a huge fireball of fear and apprehension and. I'm just so worried about how things are going to go. it feels like the time I have is so little and like I'm supposed to have planned out everything for the rest of my life in the next three months or something and. yeah. I feel compulsively driven to not even try. and instead of sitting with my resistance and processing these super unpleasant emotions I spent the past week trying to block out my brain and jump directly into a routine. and that went about as well as you'd expect. I was irritable and tired and I got nothing done.
so, yeah, I've been forced back into the healthy mature path of taking care of myself. Although it was obvious from the very beginning I always tend to learn the hard way- to be truly productive i need to pay attention to how I'm feeling.
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I've decided I'm not gonna consider the last six days for my days of productivity. I'm noting today as day 45 of 100. Maybe I'll make a separate dop post by the end of the day, but we'll see. Note to self- completing any task, big or small, is good progress. I tend to get overexcited and take on wayy more than I'm equipped to hold, I wanna try to be aware of when I do that. yeah. this week is gonna be the 'in-my-feels' week
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alyswritings · 2 years
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Stressed Out
Request: hi! i'd like to request something for dad sebastian stan taking care of r after having like the worst and most exhausting week ever, maybe she is a bit moody and snaps at him bc of the stress and exhaustion and then feels guilty and tells him everything and he just tries to make it better and all the comfort <3 i've been having a really bad week and this hasn't left my mind tbh
Sebastian Stan x daughter!reader
Summary: Y/N has a tough week and accidentally snaps at her dad.
Warnings: some swearing
a/n: thank you for the request! i am so sorry it took me months to get out! hopefully this can bring comfort to you whenever you may need it, even though it's super late. hope you all enjoy!
Y/N huffs as she enters the apartment, dropping her backpack next to the door. She trudges to the couch and faceplants on it, a small groan leaving her mouth.
After about ten blissful minutes, the door opens, quickly followed a curse leaving Sebastian's mouth.
"Y/N, how many times have I told you to not leave your bag by the door?" He calls out, shutting the door. He grabs the bag and walks to the living room. "Seriously, honey. It hurts."
"Sorry." Y/N mutters.
"You good?" Sebastian asks, noticing her miserable looking state.
"I'm fine." Y/N dismisses, sitting up.
"Okay." Sebastian says even though he doesn't really believe her. "So, I was thinking that we could just order pizza for dinner tonight. I'm not in the mood to cook and, uh, you never are, so pizza sounds good. Or do you want something else? We got Asian, Mexican, other Italian, some American, uh--"
"Dad, would you just shut up?!" Y/N snaps, rubbing her temples. Sebastian looks at her with a shocked expression at her outburst. He watches as she grimaces, covering her face with her hands.
"I-- I'm sorry, dad. I didn't mean to--" Y/N heavily sighs.
"Hey, hey, what's wrong, baby?" Sebastian sits on the coffee table across from her, concern etching on his features.
"I'm sorry, I just... I had a super bad week. I mean, finals and my homework got lost, but my teacher didn't believe me so she wouldn't give me a copy that I could redo. One of my favorite shirts ripped and I almost flashed my entire class the other day. I-- I just, I'm tired -- mentally and physically."
"I'm sorry, princesa." Sebastian puts his hands on either side of her face and rubs her temples, helping her relax. "How about this? You go take a shower or bath and I'll order the pizza and we'll have a movie night, hmm?"
"Okay." Y/N mumbles.
"Okay." Sebastian repeats. He kisses her on the forehead before going to the kitchen to find the flyer for her favorite pizza place.
After a while, Y/n finally returns, her hair still damp from the shower.
"You feel a little better?" Sebastian asks.
Y/N nods, softly smiling.
"Good." Sebastian smiles, kissing her head. "You got down here just in time. Pizza was dropped off about five minutes ago."
The two spent the rest of the time cuddled up on the couch and watching movies up until Y/N managed to fall asleep with her head on Sebastian's shoulder.
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spiritmaiden23 · 3 years
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“It’s silly to try and compare someone’s pain to your own to see who had it worst. We all had our own struggles to overcome, what may seem like a small deal to you might not be the same for someone else. You shouldn’t really say that this person had it worse than the other one, it’s not your right to because we could never hope to understand feelings as strongly as that person in question felt at the time. Instead, try to practice compassion and empathy...” 
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“So, with that out in the open! If you’ve been in a coma for over a year much like the champions of me Hylia, might I suggest joining my Napping Club? It’s fun, you see we get together, talk about our ten or more years of sleep and then take naps together!”  
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starks-hero · 3 years
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Right a Wrong
Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Summary: You, Sam and Bucky get to work repairing Sam’s family boat. Turns out the boat isn’t the only thing in need of fixing. But with help from you and Sam, Bucky figures some stuff out.
Word Count: 3,745
Warnings: a bit of a make-out session but not enough to be classed as smut, tfatws spoilers! 1x05
a/n: This is a direct result of watching episode 5 too many times. Spoilers below!
|| Part Two ||
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Small waves lapped gently against the dock and the afternoon sun warmed your back as you worked on the old boat.
You were standing side by side with Bucky, crowbar in hand as you attempted to pry off the old metal cleats from the boats side, whilst he expertly pulled rusted pipes apart and threw them into a pile. As if on queue, one of the pipes on the opposite side of the ship burst, hissing and spurting out white clouds of steam. You marvelled at how quickly Bucky reacted, quickly crossing the deck and sealing the leak with an abrupt upward turn of the pipe with his metal arm.
"Where did you learn so much about fixing boats?" You teased, motioning to the now fixed pipe with your crowbar. Bucky dusted off his hands.
"I used to work on the docks in Brooklyn before the war." He shrugged, rolling up his sleeves to the elbow and taking a seat on a crate next to you. "I picked up a few things."
He furthered his point by leaning over and pulling at the cleat you'd been grappling with. It came away from where it was attached to the boat's side with ease in Buckys iron grip. He smirked as he tossed the scrap aside and you rolled your eyes.
"Show off."
Bucky chuckled, sitting back as Sam stepped onto the boat. He was carrying a crate in one hand and shook his head when he noticed Bucky's smirk and your dismissive smile.
"Alright, you two." He placed the crate down and pulled out two green bottles, throwing one to Bucky and handing you the other. "Beer break."
Sam took a seat across from you both and you sighed as you opened your beer, raising it up to Bucky.
His annoyance was discredited by the fond smile that broke through his expression as he begrudgingly clinked his bottle with yours. You reached over and did the same with Sam as the three of you relaxed under the heat of the Louisiana sun.
"It's starting to look good," you noted as you glanced around the boat and Sam smiled.
"Yeah, it's coming together." He took a swig of his beer. "You know, Sarah and I were talking." He started and both you and Bucky glanced up at him. "And we could use the help. Don't suppose you two would consider staying around a while? Just till we get a lead on Karli."
The offer caused a noticeable smile to pull at your lips whilst Bucky shifted beside you at Sam's words. His agitation grew and he stood.
"I've got my plane to catch tomorrow, a hotel room for the night," he said, raising his bottle to his lips to hide his doubt. He really didn't have that much of a plan beyond that.
"You're just gonna set me up like that, huh?" Sam asked and Bucky shrugged.
"Well, I don't want to make it weird for your family."
"Just stay here," Sam said and you couldn't help but nod subconsciously. The truth was you really didn't really want to leave. There was something about staying with the Wilson's and spending the day fixing up an old run-down family boat that made everything seem so normal. It gave you a sense of home, a sense of normality that you hadn't had in a long time. For a while, it even made you forget about the flag smashers, Walker, all of it. It was a much-needed break.
"The people in this town are the most welcoming in the world. They don't care if you wear small t-shirts or if you've got six toes or if your mom is your aunt-"
You laughed and Bucky barely hid a chuckle behind a huff of breath and a bright smile.
"Okay, I get it. The people are nice."
You placed your bottle aside and turned to Sam.
"You're sure Sarah doesn't mind?" you asked and Sam's smile only widened.
"She's the one that offered."
Grinning, you sat back and nodded. "Then I don't see why not."
"See?" Sam pointed to you and then Bucky. "Just stay, man."
Bucky shuffled his feet for a moment before finally answering with a begrudging, "Okay. Alright." He didn't say anything else as he turned and walked down the boat.
"He'll come around. He probably just wants his space." You said, picking up your beer. Sam nodded, taking a swig of his own drink.
"I hope you're right."
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You woke up feeling more refreshed than you had in a while. Your hands and back hurt slightly from the tiring work on the boat, but it was a dull ache compared to the constant throbbing that came after a mission. Your cheeks were warm, surely as a result of the hours spent out in the sun the day before.
Both you and Bucky stayed the night. Sarah had offered you the spare room and after a solid fifteen minutes of bickering, you finally conceded to Bucky and agreed to sleep in the guest bed. He took the couch.
The sun was just beginning to rise up over the water when you and Bucky both headed back out to the boat. Sam joined you not long after. You worked until mid-afternoon, reluctantly taking short breaks. You fell into a quick rhythm as you worked around the boat. Surprisingly, the three of you seemed to make a pretty decent team off of the battlefield.
"Hey, can you pass me a 12-300?" Sam asked from under the boat's control panel. Bucky reached into the toolbox and placed the wrench in Sam's outstretched hand. A few seconds later Sam was rolling out from under the controls and glaring disapprovingly at Bucky.
"What?"
"I asked for a 12-300," Sam stated plainly. "This is a 10-250."
"No, it's not." Bucky bit back.
"Yes, it is."
"No, it's not!"
"Hey, geniuses." You cut their bickering short as both men turned to look at you. You held up the grease-slick wrench that had been misplaced and tossed it to Sam. "You left it below deck when you were working on the engine."
Sam muttered a quiet 'thanks' as he got back to work. Silence settled over the three of you for a few minutes until Sam decided it was getting awkward.
"So, are you still planning on leaving tonight?" He asked from under the station and Bucky nodded, before realising Sam couldn't see him.
"Yeah," he said loud enough for Sam to hear. "I'll be out of your way soon."
You could hear Sam's sigh from beneath you as he clambered back to his feet and stood between you and the super-soldier leaning against the wall of the cabin.
"Well, there's no hurry."
Sam didn't say anything else as he cleaned the oil and grease from his hands with a cloth and stepped off the boat. Bucky sighed and let his head fall back behind him.
"Go," you ordered plainly and he looked up at you.
"What?"
"Go," you said again, nodding your head towards where Sam was walking away. "You both need to talk. Bucky, whatever you're not saying, it's getting to you. So go talk to him."
Bucky hesitated, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He glared at nothing in particular but his gaze softened when it found you and he muttered a quiet, 'fine.' You stepped aside as he made his way past you and stepped up onto the dock, heading after Sam.
"And don't be a smart ass!" You called after him. He didn't reply, but you could only hope that Sam and Bucky's conversation would be somewhat constructive.
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"Nice shot!" You retrieved the football from the back of the goal as Cass, Sam's eldest nephew, celebrated his score.
Once Sam and Bucky had left the boat, you had headed back to the house, helping Sarah with any errands or chores, doing anything you could to help out. Sam and Bucky had been gone a little over an hour and you didn't know if that meant their talk was going very well or very not. You'd been sitting rather uselessly on the couch, waiting in anticipation, when Sam's nephews had invited you to play a game of football. And how could you refuse?
You tossed the ball back to the boys who eagerly pounced at it. You were stood in the small goal, allowing both boys to take as many shots as they wanted. AJ stepped forward and kicked the ball, groaning when it flew off to the left, a few meters away from where you were standing and missed the net entirely. He glanced down at the ground, disheartened.
“Hey, it's alright, AJ.” You smiled as you ran to grab the ball and passed it back to him. “Come on, try again.”
With encouragement from his brother, he took the shot and this time the ball planted itself in the top corner of the goal. Both boys cheered as they celebrated and you smiled. You dusted yourself off, your knees and hands covered in dust from the football game as you turned to head back inside the house. Both boys protested as you left but you promised them you'd be back. The more time you spent with AJ, Cass, Sam and Sarah, the more you didn't want to leave. There was something about staying with the Wilson's that made you feel content. It was homely and offered a sense of normality that the last few weeks had caused you to miss.
You entered the kitchen and poured yourself a glass of water. Sarah had told you over and over again to help yourself to anything in the kitchen. You leaned against the counter, glass in hand and just basked in the feeling of not having to worry about donning a suit and risking your life at a moments notice. It was something you could get used to.
“That was adorable.”
Your head snapped up at the sound of a voice and you found Bucky joining you in the kitchen. He was smirking fondly.
“You and the boys.”
You chuckled softly and shrugged. “They're sweet kids.”
Bucky nodded, pulling a glass of his own from the shelf and filling it with water from the tap. It furthered the sense of domesticity that you were really starting to love. He took a seat at the table across from you.
“So,” you started as you placed your own glass aside. “How did it go? You and Sam.”
Bucky chuckled and you couldn't tell if it was sarcastic or genuine, but something about the grin that lingered on his lips had you banking on the latter.
‘‘Not bad,” he admitted eventually with a shrug. He hesitated for a moment before continuing. “We talked. He said if I'm going to fix anything, if I'm going to get what's left of him out of my mind.” Bucky subconsciously ran his hand across his temple. “I'm going to have to put in the work. Help the people I wronged instead of just saying sorry.”
You nodded, silently making a note to thank Sam later on. He always had a way with words, he could always get through to people. That's why he was given the shield.
“He's got a point.”
Bucky scoffed and hung his head at your words. “I should have known you'd be on his side.” There was no hostility in his words. He just sounded amused, and maybe a little tired.
“I don't think this comes down to whose side I'm on, Bucky. We both want what's best for you.” You answered honestly and Bucky glimpsed up at you. He anxiously toyed with his hands as you spoke, looking vulnerable, and slightly lost despite how hard he tried to hide it. You knew Sam had already spoken to him, but it couldn't hurt for you to say something as well.
“Look Bucky, telling yourself that you're okay and that everything that happened doesn't matter anymore because you've made 'amends' isn't going to help.”
He sighed, shuffling his feet against the tiles of the kitchen floor. “I know,” he admitted quietly.
“And I know you're probably tired of hearing this but, you're not him anymore, Bucky. You're not the winter soldier. Everything you did whilst you were him wasn't your choice. Just because you remember it doesn't mean that it was your fault. It's not your responsibility to fix it.”
Bucky sighed but didn't interrupt. He was listening. This wasn't like the therapist that he was forced to sit in front of and lie to every other week. This was someone he trusted, someone whose words he valued. Someone he honestly believed could help. He sighed but nodded to show that he was still listening.
“I think Sam’s right,” you said. “It might not be your responsibility to fix everything that went wrong but trying could help. It could give you that closure that you keep chasing after. You need to let go, Bucky. You need to forgive yourself. Maybe you just need the people who are hurting to forgive you first. Then you can learn how to do the same.”
Bucky's expression was unreadable. So many emotions flashed across his eyes you found it difficult to pinpoint just one.
“How do I start?” he asked quietly. It just seemed impossible. There were so many people he'd hurt, so many people he'd wronged. He'd left children as orphans, wives as widows and parents childless. How could he possibly start trying to fix or make all those people feel in any way better?
You smiled softly at his question. “Small. One at a time,” you said simply. “Then just keep putting one in front of the other.”
Bucky considered your words, glancing down at his hands as he thought. Before long, a small smirk pulled at his lips.
“I can't decide who'd make a better therapist. You or Sam,” he joked and you laughed, shaking your head dismissively.
“Well, Sam did council veterans so I think he takes that title.”
“I'd say it's pretty tied,” Bucky said, walking across the kitchen and standing next to you as he washed his glass, drying it off and placing it back on the shelf. The room fell into a comfortable silence.
“Thank you, Y/N.” He said after a moment, his tone sincere and his expression genuine as he looked at you. You nodded, gently placing your hand against his shoulder.
“Don't mention it. You know I'm always here if you need to talk.”
The sound of a football colliding with the wall dangerously close to the window followed by two voice's loudly shouting, 'sorry!' in unison drew a quaint laugh from you both.
“Duty calls.” You grinned, patting Bucky on the back as you passed him. “Team Wilson is missing its goalkeeper.”
Bucky chuckled, watching you go. You crossed the kitchen but his voice stopped you just as your hand reached the doors handle.
“Y/N?”
You turned back around to face him and couldn't help but notice that he seemed a little more apprehensive than he had before.
“Yeah?”
He exhaled slowly, willing himself to tell you what was on his mind.
“I was just thinking things over and you know, I’m leaving today,” he hesitated slightly before glancing up at you. “And I guess I was wondering if you’d come with me?”
Your hand slipped from where it was still holding the brass handle of the door. You tilted your head as your mind fully processed his question. The shock must have been evident in your expression as Bucky rushed to continue.
“I know you're planning on staying here and I get why.” He pulled a tattered red book from his pocket which you immediately recognized as Steve’s. He began absentmindedly turning the pages, running his fingers over the paper. “I want to try and start fixing things, making things right. But truth is I have no idea where to start. I thought that maybe you could help me with that?”
“I thought you wanted your space," you admitted after a moment.
“No.” He shook his head. “That's the last thing I want.”
You thought it over, resting your back against the door. Bucky trusted you, evidently a lot more than you thought he did. Not only was he comfortable enough telling you how he felt and admitting he didn't know what to do next. But he also wanted you with him. It was clear he was holding back, not wanting to overwhelm you by admitting just how badly he wanted you to go with him. But the way he eagerly watched you as he waited patiently for your answer was a dead give away.
You wanted to help Bucky, you wanted to be there for him. If that meant helping him right his wrongs and staying with him during that trying time, at least until Sam got a lead on Karli and the Flag Smashers, then you were more than happy to comply.
“You're sure about this?” you asked and Bucky pushed off the counter and crossed the room, stopping just in front of you.
“Absolutely.” His voice dropped down to a hushed whisper. “Come with me.” His hand gently caught your wrist, his fingers running up your arm. His face was inches from yours now, your breaths mingling. “Please?”
His lips pressed to yours before you could answer and you immediately kissed back. Your hand fell against his shoulder, the other laying gently against the nape of his neck. He groaned quietly against you, his arms finding your waist as he gently guided you backwards till your back met the wall. He pressed into you, his hands roaming up your body and you moaned as he deepened the kiss.
“Yes.” You answered when he pulled away slightly and he smiled against you, relieved. Neither of you said anything else as Bucky sighed and pulled you closer, his thigh slipping between your legs as he pinned you to the wall.
God, he'd wanted to do this for so long. Wanted to kiss you, to feel you against him. He wanted you. Your hand slipped into his hair and you pulled him closer, smirking against him. You'd wanted this just as bad. And you both only had your own stubbornness to blame for taking so damn long. It didn't matter now though. Not as he gently bit down on your lower lip and you slipped your hand under his shirt and felt up his chest. It all felt so natural, so right.
“Ten minutes.”
Both your eyes flew open at the all too familiar voice, Bucky pulling away from you so quickly he only barely avoided falling over a nearby chair.
“I left you two alone to talk for ten minutes,” Sam repeated from where he was standing on the other side of the room, his arms crossed. You tried to subtly smoothen out your clothes whilst Bucky ran his hand through his tangled hair.
“We were,” Bucky said, clearing his throat. “We were talking. We...talked.”
Sam nodded, entirely unconvinced, and smirked. He reclined against the counter, showing no sign of leaving anytime soon. A painfully awkward silence settled over the kitchen as Sam continued to shift his knowing stare from you to Bucky.
The humiliation of the entire situation seemed to get to Bucky first as he clasped his hands together after less than a minute.
“You know, what? I'm leaving in a few hours and I've got to pack so I better just go-” Bucky rambled as he shot you a subtle apologetic look before turning to Sam, who was nodding along in faux agreement to his pathetic attempt of an excuse.
Bucky quickly crossed the kitchen, Sam harshly patting him on the back as he passed him and left the room. Leaving just you and Sam alone. You turned to your friend and found that he was still grinning at you with that same mischievous look in his eyes. You felt like a deer in headlights. In an attempt to act as though Sam hadn't just walked in on you and Bucky making out, you tried making normal conversation.
“Sam, there was actually something I wanted to tell you. I know I said I was going to stay for a while but I guess there's been a change of plan. I-”
“I know.” He cut you off and his smile only widened when you looked at him in utter confusion. “You honestly think he would have asked you to go with him if I didn't tell him to get his shit together first?”
Your confusion slowly melted away and was replaced with a look of disbelief. You laughed despite yourself. You should have known Sam had something to do with it. ‘‘How long have you been playing cupid?” you asked jokingly and Sam chuckled.
“He needs you, Y/N. More than he wants to admit,” Sam said, tone now more serious than before. “Things will be fine here, I'll call you as soon as Torres finds us something to work with. But right now, he needs your help before that hole he's stuck in gets too deep for him to climb out of.”
You sighed as the weight of Sam's words set in. He was right, Bucky really did need you. That wasn't a responsibility you could afford to take lightly. Not that you planned to.
“Thanks, Sam,” you said genuinely and Sam smirked as he crossed the room and pulled you into a hug. He could tell you needed it.
“Anytime.” He pulled away and offered you a warning glare. “But I swear, if you two making out the minute I turn my back becomes a regular thing I'm going to kick both your asses.”
“Got it,” you nodded, barely stifling a laugh.
Sam's scowl melted into a smile and he motioned towards the stairs. “Go on, get your things together. You've got a plane to catch in a few hours.”
You smiled and headed upstairs after Bucky. Sam leaned against the counter with his arms crossed and a satisfied smile. Getting you two together had taken more work than he'd thought. But he knew it would be worth it, you both needed each other. Whether you were willing to admit it or not. And Sam was confident that if there was anyone that could help Bucky and offer him that sense of home and peace that he was so desperately craving, it was you.
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tag list: @bakerstreethound​ @miraclesoflove​ @doozywoozy​ @kealohilani-tepise
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street-smarts00 · 3 years
Text
Eavesdropping
Midoriya x f!reader
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Summary: Y/n had just realized that she has a crush on her best friend, Izuku Midoriya. She confides in Mina while they were walking to class. However, someone just so happens to overhear their conversation.
Word count: 1.9k
Fluff with ⚠️language
This is my first time writing, enjoy!
“I still can’t believe it took you that long to realize it,” Mina joked.
Mina had once again brought up this embarrassing topic. God forbid you mention anything about crushes, it’s all she wants to talk about. But then again you are a bit of a gossip too, you just didn’t like when the topic of conversation was yourself.
“I've been single for the past 16 years, you really expect me to know how my feelings work,” you mumbled while the two of you walked to heroics.
It was exhausting talking about your new found feelings for one of your best friends, Izuku Midoriya. The two of you have known each other for over a year now and had just started second year; and only a few days ago did you realize that you had fallen head over heels for the guy.
“So when are you gonna tell him?” Mina smirked. “What? Mina I can’t tell him that I like him it will ruin our friendship” you replied as your cheeks turned pink.
“Why do you think it’s gonna ruin your friendship?”
You sighed, “Because it’s gonna make everything awkward. I won’t know how to act around him once he knows and it’s not like he likes me back.”
Your friendship with Midoriya was more important than some silly crush. He was always there for you, giving you tips on how to improve your quirk or fighting style, helping you study, and whenever you were in a shitty mood he always knew what to do to lift your spirits.
“Oh please that’s a load of bull shit”
“MINA!” You exclaimed.
“What? You really think he doesn’t like you? You guys are super cuddly and touchy and you two always have to be touching whether your holding hands or your arms are linked.” Mina explained.
You shook your head, “No Mina that doesn’t mean he likes me, he’s just a touchy person,”
She smirked, “oh really, well I’m friends with him and he isn’t cuddly with me. Or even some of his other best friends, like Iida or Ochako, has he ever cuddled with them during movie night?”
You opened your mouth to respond but no words came out. She was right. You thought that he was just a touchy person. You had never noticed that the only person he was physically affectionate with,was you. The constant hand holding, and arms linked or draped across the others shoulders, the cuddling on the couch during movie night. It was only you, no one else.
“And, it’s not just the physical affection, he also goes out of his way to help you, like all the time. More so then the rest of the class. And remember when you sprained your ankle during training a few weeks ago, he freaked out and offered to carry you to recovery girls office, and when you did get there he refused to leave until you were all patched up”
You were speechless. You thought all of that stuff was just his normal helpful personality. He’s always trying to help others. Did he really give you more attention?
“Holy shit,” you whispered. Your heart was beating a mile a minute. It felt like you were frozen in place even though we’re you still walking to heroics.
“Awww now you have to tell him! Come on it will be so cute. You’ll confess your feelings, you’ll start dating and then you’ll be in love, and then soon I’m gonna have to start calling you y/n Midoriya.” Mina giggled.
“Mina!” You hissed, and she replied giggling.
In the middle of your rage, you didn’t notice Shinsou pass by the both of you.
“Hey Shinsou!” Mina said cheered. You looked up and mumbled “hey.” He glanced over looking exhausted as always and replied “Hey guys.”
He walked passed the two of you and always out of your line of sight. However, right afterwards you heard him say “Hey Midoriya”
Wait what?
Did he just say? Nope he didn’t, he did not just say Midoriya. He did not just say the name of the boy you and Mina had an ENTIRE conversation about.
It felt like the world was spinning. Your hands became sweaty and you almost dropped the case with your hero outfit.
You glanced towards Mina and she had the same expression as you, eyes wide, jaw dropped and face pale. The two of you turned our heads and unfortunately there he was. Your best friend, green messy hair, worn out old red shoes, and an almost identical facial expression as you. Except instead of all the color draining from his face, it turned bright red.
He awkwardly smiled and waved his trembling hand. You reverted your head and stared at the floor; you couldn’t look anyone in the eyes.
How long was he behind you? How much did he hear? You didn’t want to ask, you were too mortified to find out.
In your grief you didn’t realize that you had reached the girls locker room. You and Mina quickly ran inside and you sighed the tiniest bit of relief now that Midoriya was gone.
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Heroics class was starting and you had barely spoken to anyone since the incident. Your mind hadn’t stopped racing. You played over what happened on the way here over and over again, trying to figure out how much he might have heard.
The only way you were safe from dying of embarrassment was if he only heard that last bit of the conversation where Mina had replaced your last name for his. If anything you could just play that off as Mina joking around or something.
You couldn’t gain the courage to go over and ask him cause there was a pretty high chance he heard EVERYTHING. He however, did have the courage to go over to you. You noticed him walking towards you and your insides felt like they are about to explode.
“Hey y/n” he said as he played with one of the gloves of his costume. You were surprised he wasn’t the same shade as a tomato right now. You on the other hand, we’re the shade of a tomato.
“H-hi Midoriya” you studdered.
He continued to fidget with his glove, “So about what happened earlier”
NO! No no no no! You were not ready for this. You did not want to talk about this right now.
“About what you said to Ashido, I . . “
“How much did you hear?” You had to know, it was eating you alive.
“Um well, a lot of it”
SHIT! Red alert! He knows, I repeat, he knows you like him.
“Oh yea right” you awkwardly giggled. “That was um, just uh. . . “
“All right class, let’s get started” All might interrupted.
“Today we will be working on close combat. You will all be in groups of two and we will take turns one at a time, so your classmates can observe and critique your work.”
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Thankfully Heroics went by smoothly after your little, but very awkward, conversation with Izuku.
You didn’t speak to him the next day at school either. You didn’t know what to say and you were terrified of what he would say about what he heard. Others had noticed too, it was odd that you two weren’t holding hands or had your arms linked let alone not looked at each other.
Once you headed back to the dorms you spent the entire afternoon in your room just like the day before. Midoriya even tried to talk to you. He knocked on the door and asked if he could come in but you said you were in the middle of an assignment. Which was a lie and he knew it because you had finished all your work during free period. You were just too scared to even look at him let alone talk to him.
You didn’t leave your room until Sero came and practically dragged you downstairs for movie night.
You heard a knock on your door and prayed it wasn’t Izuku. “Hey y/n, it’s Sero”
You sighed and got up from your bed to open the door, “Hey.” He saw your tired eyes, “are you ok?”
You realized he saw right through you and replied “yea I’m good just kinda freaked out about something,” His face fell and filled with worry, “do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really, its kinda personal and embarrassing, you replied.
Sero knew not to push you. You tended to have a hard time opening up and if he kept asking you would end up never telling him, or anyone at all. “Oh ok, but if you ever wanna talk I’m all ears,” he sympathized. “Wait, I almost forgot the whole reason I came up here. We’re gonna start the movie soon.”
Crap. You completely forgot it was Friday, and Friday was movie night. Where everyone sits in the common room and watches a movie. The movie night where you cuddled with your best friend on the couch every week. The best friend that you have a crush on. The same best friend that now knows that you like him, and might like you back but you're still not sure because there is no proof.
“Ummm ya know I don’t think I can make it to movie night I have a lot of work to do” you lied.
“But didn’t you finish all your work during your free period? Remember you put your feet on the desk when you were done and Iida scolded you for descracing school property.” He replied.
Damn, he was there for that?
“Oh Yea, so I guess I am free,” you said with a fake cheery attitude as you fumbled with your bracelets. You grabbed your phone, turned off the lights and followed Sero down to the common room.
Once you two reached the living room you noticed that everyone was seated ready to play the film. There were two empty spaces to sit. One of them was right between Midoryia and Jiro. You couldn’t sit next to him and cuddle for the next two hours without your brain exploding. You tried to go to the other vacant seat but sadly, Sero beat you to it.
You had no other choice. You slowly made your way to the couch and plopped down in the empty spot as the movie started. You crisscrossed your legs and played with your bracelets again. Midoryia took note of this, he knew you always played with your jewelry when you were scared or anxious. He leaned to your ear and whispered “Hey, are you ok?”
You didn’t look him in the eye. “Yea I’m good”
You hated lying to him but you couldn’t gain the courage to talk to him.
He leaned over to whisper in your ear again. “By the way, Mina was right. I do like you back.”
This was now the second time today that you felt your heart stop. You turned your head to face him. You were inches apart. “Promise?” You asked.
“I Promise.”
You both smiled as your cheeks turned pink. You leaned into him and wrapped your arms around his waist as he put his arm around you and pulled your closer.
He kissed the top of your head, “I missed this.” It may sound cheesy, but your insides felt like they were filled with butterflies.
“I missed this too”
Over on the other side of the couch a smug looking Mina whispered to Jiro, “I knew it.”
163 notes · View notes
ming-yu-hao · 3 years
Text
Distance Makes the Heart Grow Fonder | Chapter 1
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Pairing: fratboy!mingyu x female reader
Word Count: 3.1k
Synopsis: When you transferred to a different university, you and Wonwoo promised that you would make long distance work. But distance proves to be more difficult than you both originally thought.
This Chapter’s Tags: some angst ig, light cheating? (not really lol), mingyu is just flirty, female masturbation, mentions of alcohol and weed
Warning: THIS SERIES IS ABOUT CHEATING. DO NOT READ IF IT MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE!
A/N: it’s gonna get spicy soon just trust me ;)
Chapters: Next | Masterlist
30 minutes. That's how long you had spent anxiously perched in front of your computer, waiting for the familiar ring of the video call to echo through the speakers. You cycled between scrolling through social media, checking your reflection in the camera, and debating on whether or not to text Wonwoo. You understood that he was busy; it wasn't unusual for either of you to call a few minutes later than you had originally planned. But Wonwoo had never left you hanging for this long without an explanation. Normally, your mind would begin to fixate on the worst case scenario, but Wonwoo had already cancelled on you the past two weeks because he was busy working.
The loud vibration of your phone against your desk drew you out of your thoughts, and you hurriedly picked it up and saw Wonwoo's name glowing across the screen. "Hello?" You answered quickly.
"Hey," Wonwoo's deep voice sounded through the phone. "You're gonna hate me," He chuckled.
"I could never," You replied. You already knew the next words that were going to come out of his mouth.
"I can't FaceTime tonight." He explained. Even though you saw it coming, you couldn't help the feeling of disappointment that weighed heavy on your chest.
Your eyes met with the reflection displayed on the laptop screen. It taunted you, reminding you that Wonwoo's face wouldn't be there to replace it once again. "Well, I would be a lot happier right now if you told me that half an hour ago," You laughed bitterly. Running a hand through your hair, you quietly sighed.
"I know. I'm sorry." Wonwoo apologized. His voice was laced with genuine sorrow; you could clearly picture the frown that lined his lips right now. He added after a moment of silence, "I don't wanna keep doing this to you, so I think we should change our date day. I've been working more Fridays lately."
You nodded despite him not being able to see you and hummed in agreement. "What day then?" You asked.
"I'm not sure yet. I still have to figure out my schedule. Just text me what works for you and I'll let you know soon, okay?" He sighed.
"Oh, okay... yeah." Your lips drew into a tighter line with each word he spoke.
"Okay, I have to get to get back to work right now. I'm sorry again." He continued quickly. "I love you."
"I love you too."
The three tones signaled the end of the call, and slowly you pulled the phone away from your ear. Your tired reflection stared back at you. Finally, you shut the computer for the third Friday in a row.
The remainder of the weekend passed and you had barely heard anything from Wonwoo except for the usual good morning and goodnight texts. By the time Wednesday came around, the both of you finally agreed that Saturday could be your new set day for FaceTime dates. You powered through the rest of the week, and on Saturday you excitedly set aside all the work from your classes and waited patiently for Wonwoo to call.
You really missed him. It'd been just over two months now since you last saw him in person, when you moved into your dorm at a university three hours away from the one where you and Wonwoo met. He stayed behind while you transferred to a college with a renowned journalism program. At first, you were hesitant to leave him, but Wonwoo refused to let you give up such a great opportunity just to stay close to him. That was what you loved about him: he wanted to see you be happy and successful.
Situating yourself comfortably on the bed, you pulled up some random Netflix series to entertain yourself while waiting for Wonwoo. You only half paid attention, glancing between the computer screen and your Instagram feed on your phone. Time crawled, and slowly you sunk deeper into the softness of the mattress below.
Cold, small hands shook you awake. You rubbed your eyes and sat up, disoriented. The series you were watching was still playing quietly. Your roommate, Jisoo, stood next to your bed with her arms crossed over her chest. She stared at you with a raised eyebrow. "You're passed out by 7 on a Saturday night?" A teasing smile was displayed across her face as she shut your laptop.
You suddenly realized that it was an hour past the time that Wonwoo had promised to FaceTime you. Your heart sunk in your chest as you thought about how you probably missed his call without an explanation. You picked up your phone, but quickly noticed the notification for a missed phone call from him, followed by a text that said: I'm so sorry, something came up I promise I'll call you tomorrow.
Jisoo surveyed you for a moment; a more serious expression began to cross her features. She sat down at the bottom of your bed. "Did something happen?"
You rolled your eyes and looked down at your hands. "Wonwoo cancelled on me again," You sighed, "But I shouldn't be mad at him for it. It's not his fault he's busy."
Jisoo tsked and patted your leg through the sheets. "Of course you can be upset! How many times has it been now?"
"This entire month. And he always cancels super late."
She scoffed, "See! That's shitty. If this was the first time it wouldn't have been a big deal. But four times?" She stood up quickly and opened up her wardrobe. "If he wants long distance to work, he needs to have better communication."
"Yeah, I guess." You replied. Jisoo held a black top up to her figure, observing herself in the mirror. "Where are you going?" You inquired.
"A party at the SVT frat. You know any of them?" She explained while changing her outfit.
You had heard of the frat before, but you racked your brain for any of their names and couldn't remember one. "I don't think so."
Jisoo faced you again and smiled. "Well, let's go."
You chuckled, "No way."
She pouted. "Come on. You haven't gone out with me I'm so long. You're in college!" Jisoo begged. "Just this once. You'll have fun."
Jisoo had a point. You really had nothing else better to do besides sit around and mope over Wonwoo ditching you. You let out an exhasperated sigh of defeat, "Fine, I'll go."
"Yes! Go get all cute and dressed up." She cheered.
You emerged from your bed and strolled over to your own closet. "Alright, I'll be quick."
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You and Jisoo walked into the party hand in hand. Immediately, the stench of weed and sweat overwhelmed you. Loud music vibrated through the walls of the house and clashed with the sounds of people cheering and yelling. An intense game of beer pong captured the attention of most people in the main room, but you could see a separate crowd gathered in the kitchen too.
"Who do you know here again?" You shouted over the music at Jisoo, not seeing a single person you recognized so far.
She leaned closer to you so you could hear. "Choi Seungcheol. I have a chemistry class with him." She scanned the room and suddenly perked up. "Oh, there he is!" She called his name and pulled you along with her towards him.
He stood against the wall with a red cup in his hand, talking with another tall boy. At the call of his name, he looked over at the two of you and smiled brightly. "Jisoo! I'm so happy you made it." He exclaimed while wrapping his arm around her lower back. Seungcheol watched you with kind eyes as you approached him. "And who is this?" He asked Jisoo.
"This is my roommate, Y/N. Y/N, this is Seungcheol." She introduced you both and you smiled and gave a small wave to the two boys.
The other boy flashed you a sweet smile that caused his eyes to form into crescents. "I'm Seokmin. I live here with Cheol." He explained.
All four of you continued to converse casually until Seungcheol pointed to you and Seokmin and said, "Hey, why don't you two go get some drinks? We'll wait here." You swore you saw a gleam of mischief in his eyes, and you quickly glanced at Jisoo to see if she noticed it too, but her expression remained neutral. This was exactly why you strayed away from parties. You wanted to avoid any encounters with flirty, drunk frat boys. But Jisoo, who was basically a mind reader, didn't react, so maybe you were just being overly paranoid.
You nodded and walked over to the kitchen, Seokmin following close behind, and watched as he began to mix some drinks together for the four of you. He let out a frustrated sigh as one of the bottles of liquor reached its end. Seokmin peeked over his shoulder and shouted, "Mingyu! Can you get me the other bottle of vodka?" You perked up at the familiar-sounding name, but couldn't remember where you had heard it before.
A moment later a presence approached you and Seokmin from behind and set the bottle down on the counter. "Now you have to make me one too," The deep voice joked. You turned around and immediately recognized the tall figure.
"Mingyu?" You called out in surprise.
His eyes dragged over and met yours. His face lit up instantly as he recognized you. "Y/N! What are you doing here?" Mingyu laughed.
Seokmin turned around and handed a cup to Mingyu with a raised eyebrow. "You guys know each other?" He questioned.
You grabbed your own cup and took a sip of the bittersweet mixture. "Yeah, we have a digital media class together." You said before smirking at Mingyu. "I didn't think you were the frat boy type."
Mingyu rested his right hand on the counter beside you, almost trapping you in between the wood and his body. "I guess I'm just full of surprises," He replied.
You felt your heart flutter in your chest at his flirty response. This was a whole new side of him that you had never seen before in class. Granted, he was most likely tipsy and maybe even a bit high, but in class he was usually polite and reserved. He cracked jokes with you sometimes, but you never expected him to be so bold. On top of that, he always had his hair styled back neatly. Now, his dark hair fell over his forehead in messy curls. His skin was sheathed in a light layer of sweat, and the muscles in his arms and chest were suddenly more prominent under his white tee in the dim light of the house. You had to admit, he was ridiculously attractive.
"I'm gonna go give this to Cheol and Jisoo," Seokmin interrupted before leaving the kitchen with both cups in his hands.
Silently, you started behind him and Mingyu walked with you. "So what are you doing here?" He asked again as the two of you rounded the corner and entered the living room.
"My roommate was invited and made me go with her," You told him. You continued to sip your drink, basking in the warm feeling that the alcohol left in your chest.
"Makes sense. I didn't expect you to be a party girl." He teased. His arm slowly snaked around your waist and squeezed your hip lightly. Your skin tingled beneath his touch but you didn't give him any physical reaction, opting to just ignore the grip he had on you.
Your jaw dropped in a fake gasp. "You think I'm boring or something?" You narrowed your eyes at him and he chuckled.
"I never said that," He responded with a smirk on his lips.
Seungcheol and Jisoo had migrated from the spot where they previously stood, so you scanned the crowded room for the long haired girl. Finally you noticed her sitting close to Seungcheol on the couch. You could see they were laughing about something and considering Seokmin wasn't hovering near them anymore either, you decided to leave them be.
Mingyu noticed where you were looking and raised his eyebrows at you when you turned back to look at him. "Well, I guess my roommate is busy," You rolled your eyes.
You had forgotten about Mingyu's hand on your waist until he squeezed it again. "Good thing you have me then," He bantered. Your skin flushed; you slightly leaned into his touch. It had been so long since you felt someone else's hands roam across your body. You missed the feeling.
Mingyu slowly pulled your body closer to his until your chest was centimeters away. You gulped and dragged your eyes up to meet his. He stared at you intensely, his other hand coming up to caress your cheek. Your breathing hitched as he ran his thumb over your bottom lip. "You're so pretty," He muttered. It felt like fire had lit up your entire body. Your nerves tingled and your brain felt fuzzy and you hated to admit it but you could feel arousal growing between your legs. Somehow Mingyu pulled you even closer than before and you felt his hard cock brush against your thigh through his jeans. His tongue darted out against his lips and he inched his face towards yours. "Can I kiss you?" He whispered just inches away from you lips.
Guilt imprisoned you as soon as he said those words. They reminded you of where you were, and what you were planning on doing. You closed your eyes and pulled yourself out of his grasp. "I have a boyfriend," You admitted briskly.
Mingyu stared at you in confusion. "What?"
Shame overtook you. Wonwoo had trusted you to remain loyal, and here you were at a frat party, leading on some poor boy from your class.
Mingyu lightly grabbed your wrist. "Hey, I'm sorry. I should've asked-" He started, but you quickly cut him off.
"No, I'm sorry. This is my fault." You apologized and pulled your wrist out of his grasp. You looked at him; he stared at you with a sorrowful gaze. The regret on your face was evident and he knew that he had helped in bringing this guilt upon you.
"I- I have to go do something," You added before turning around and darting towards the door. You didn't bother to turn around or look for Jisoo, you just needed to get out of there as fast as possible. Once you were outside, you inhaled a sharp breath and pulled out your phone to call for an Uber. You waited near the street, sending a text to Jisoo to let her know that you felt sick and went home while you waited.
Eventually the Uber pulled up and you hurriedly sat down and told the driver where to go. You breathed a sigh of relief as they finally pulled away from the frat.
The drive was short, but you spent every one of those few minutes replaying the night's events in your mind. Your flesh still tingled in the places where Mingyu had touched you. Guilt haunted you, but you attempted to lessen that burden by reasoning with yourself. You missed Wonwoo. A lot. You missed hearing his voice and seeing his face and of course feeling his touch against your skin. You hadn't been fucked in over two months now, so it was no wonder that any bit of physical affection would have such a strong effect on you. What mattered is that you stopped it before anything happened. You could live with that, you decided. All you had to do now was just clear up things with Mingyu next week, deal with any awkwardness between you two, and focus on Wonwoo.
When you arrived at your dorm, you quickly changed your clothes, cleansing yourself of the faint smell of weed and the remnants of Mingyu's touch. Not long after, exhaustion began to take over your body. You laid down on the bed, not even bothering to check your phone before closing your eyes and letting sleep overcome you.
You weren't sure what time you fell asleep, but you awoke some time later and glanced at the clock. 11:54 PM. You stretched your arms behind your head and yawned as you scanned the room. Jisoo was still gone. You closed your eyes again and tried to fall back asleep, but your mind began to race.
You could clearly picture Mingyu's lust-filled eyes staring down at you, his hands running over your waist and pulling you towards the heat of his body. The glow of his skin, the messy curls hanging over his forehead, the fullness of his lips as he asked in his husky voice if he could kiss you—the images and sensations swirled around in your thoughts.
In a half asleep daze, you rubbed your thighs together. Friction built between your legs. You groaned quietly as your mind revisited how you felt when Mingyu's hands were on your body. More arousal began to pool in your heat, your underwear clinging to your wetness.
Languidly, you ran your hand down your stomach and toyed with the hem of your underwear before slowly pulling the fabric down your legs. You imagined Mingyu's sharp eyes staring at you from between your thighs as you ran your fingers through your slick folds. Arousal coated your fingers and you began to rub your clit in slow circles. You pretended that Mingyu's thick fingers were the ones teasing your clit, making your legs jolt each time you pressed the right spot.
You moaned quietly and began to grope your own breast. You squeezed and flicked your nipple, causing a quiet gasp to fall from your lips. You pulled your hand away from your clit and slowly pushed two fingers into your dripping heat. "Mmh, Mingyu," You groaned under your breath. You imagined his deep voice saying the dirtiest things to you as he pumped and curled his fingers into your pussy.
You gasped as you hit a particular spot that made you arch your lower back. You continued pumping your fingers at a fast pace until the knot building in your lower stomach snapped. Your eyes rolled back and you let out a sharp whine as an intense feeling of euphoria washed over your body.
Your body relaxed against the sheets as your heart rate began to slow and exhaustion overtook you once again. You sighed contently and wrapped yourself in your blankets, allowing yourself to drift off to sleep.
You promised yourself that you would never do that again.
196 notes · View notes
iamcinema · 3 years
Text
IAC Reviews #19: Wishbone (2000)
Hey, is anyone still alive out there? I hope so.
Coming off of last year was a disaster, and well, we didn't enter 2021 on the highest of notes. I guess you could say I've been burned out and not having a ton of motivation to do a lot, even with how much I've been grinding on Letterboxd over the past few months. I think I'm ready to come back, and since there's a storm is brewing outside, let's make today a movie night...and boy, do I have a treat for you.
I think I've made it kind of apparent that I have a weakness for terrible, low-budget, trash fires. There's something oddly charming about them where they always find a way to lure me in, and given the scene on Letterboxd, there's a bunch of SOV masochists out there waiting to get their next fix. While digging around for material to cross off my lists on titles to find and add, I was reminded of a terrible, low-budget film that was shot in my hometown over 20 years ago. I'm full of fear for what's to come, and you should be too.
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Wishbone is a 2000 horror film directed by Timothy Gaer and co-created by Michael Fasciana, centering on a woman named Laurie who receives an unusual artifact from her eccentric aunt she acquired from a pawn dealer that causes those around her to disappear when they make wishes on it. Hmm, seems simple enough. Let's what we're in for, and I'm absolutely not ready because the IMDb page says this shit is over two hours long, despite a version on Youtube having it just a bit over 90 minutes. Let us pray.
Wishbone in One Gif:
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This acting is might be the death of me, but I'm not sure what's going to be the catalyst that causes me to fall down the stairs and break my neck: the sound quality, the weird editing, or the music...oh, god what the fuck is the music doing? So much noise, noise noise!
Okay, so let's dig into this before I take too long of a break and I don't come back to this. I've already had to pause the movie a few times to catch my breath or just rewind and go back because there's a good amount that I keep missing because, apparently, the star of the film is the score and not Laurie. This is so, so slow. I've seen a lot of long horror movies, but at least with those, it feels like things are happening. Even Blood Lake had filler that did something to some degree, and with that, it was consistently bad. This movie doesn't even know what it wants to do. So, as a disclaimer, there's a good chance I'm probably missing some key details that I didn't hear because it seems that characterization isn't important if the music insists on talking over everyone.
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So, to date, this might be one of the worst horror movies (and movies in general) that I've ever seen and it might be one of the slowest things in the entire megaverse. This is over 90 minutes of, somehow, nothing and something happening simultaneously - if that makes any sense.
This takes its sweet ass time moving along and there's so little pay-off. The majority of the characters are either nameless or we aren't introduced to them in a way that matters enough for us to care about them. It's kind of like with Violent Shit and other low-budget slasher films where the majority of the characters serve no purpose but to be disposable. Next to the two main leads, Laurie and Joe, and maybe a few others, everyone is just forgettable and even then I couldn't honestly tell you anyone's name if it was explicitly brought up. IMDb isn't helpful either, and at this point it just makes me care even less. I'm not sure if my patience has been tested too much with this, but it's kind of sad that I'm more invested in seeing what the background characters are doing than Laurie and Joe - even though I can't really hear what the hell they're saying.
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Yeah, I really can't move on without talking about the sound and the music. Why is it always the audio with these movies? This has an estimated budget of $100,000, or $154,779.43 today in August 2021. How do you have the ability to somehow not make this look like a potato for the most part, well for the day shots that is, but you don't have it in you to get a good mic and someone who knows how to mix and edit correctly? I would sort of understand if you spent the majority of the money on talent to cut corners, but this is just ridiculous. Did they use the cameras' built-in mics to catch the audio here?
I feel like I need to interrupt the movie constantly to tell them to speak up because if I turn up the volume, I'm just getting bombarded with this really weird soundtrack that doesn't fit. I shit you not, during one of the kill scenes, the music booming over it sounds like it was ripped from Kevin MacLeod's "lounge" library and then the reverse happens where ominous music is playing over a more touching scene - and that's not even a dig at Kevin as an artist. That's just how inappropriate and unfitting this editing is. The weird fucking thing about this specific kill scene is that it sounds like the audio is stacked, so there are two different instrumental tracks going on.
How do you fuck something as basic as tension up like that? The audio choices are so painfully inconsistent and it doesn't know what it wants to do. There are moments where you can hear the dialogue just fine, but then the music comes in out of nowhere to segway us into the next scene and it starts to muffle things out. If it isn't that, then the dialogue is just so soft that you'd think there was a pillow on the mic or we're hearing them from the opposite side of a sound-dampened room.
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This is what I meant earlier when I said I apologize in advance if I miss anything crucial because I can't make out half of these conversations. So, I'm having to keep going back if I care enough or just having to pause and take breaks because there's only so much I can handle. This means that there's a good amount I'll blank on because I have to keep going back because I can't remember the majority of these no-named characters. Who the fuck are you people? Why am I supposed to care?
If I'm understanding the non-existent rules of the wishbone, you're connected to whoever dies in some way. So, why is any of this relevant to what's going on? If it's random, then it's another reason for me not to care just because some frat kids made a wish at some point. Again, who the hell are you and why am I supposed to lament over them? Why is there so much useless filler here? Did I mention that this is over 90 minutes long and there are *three* fucking party scenes? Party scenes are to Wishbone as ten-minute-long jetskiing and beer game scenes are to Blood Lake.
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Oh, speaking of other shit that's annoying. Let's talk about general editing because the sound isn't the only thing that's a mess here.
I swear that almost every single scene in this ends with a fade-out/fade-in shot. Only one or two scenes come to mind where this doesn't happen, and the first time it did I thought my browser was freezing because it abruptly cut to black and then smash cuts to a party scene. I've never, ever seen a movie that abused this that much before and it's on par with something I would have seen made by a bunch of high school kids. So, when we have a moment where this doesn't happen and it plays out normally, it feels like a breath of fresh air. I'm sure this movie's run time could have been shaved down by at least a minute or two if this wasn't a problem, along with all the useless close-up shots that serve nothing to the plot.
It's such a waste of time. I'm so fucking tired. How was this movie's budget $100k? Did they spend most of it on renting the Scranton Police Department for a few shots or did it go towards their impromptu trip to Party City? I'm so tired and I don't care anymore.
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Do you want to know what the real kicker is? With just barely twenty minutes left, the whole lore about the monkey's wishbone paw comes back and that's when Laurie and her friend Karen think something is weird. Isn't this whole realization trope that happens within the first or second act, not now with your Great Value brand version of the Dream Warriors?
Also, it's not specified how much time has gone by since the start, but it has to have been at least a week or two. It's incredibly weird how they paint the main characters and the unnamed background ones as such good friends that they don't think it's weird how almost all of them have disappeared - especially one girl who doesn't seem off-put that her boyfriend (or ex) disappeared after getting into an argument at one of the parties and none of his friends could reach him either at his own house.
The final showdown is an utter pain in the ass to get through because the conflict ends as abruptly as it starts and it's so unsatisfying. We get to see the face of our villain, I guess, and then more or less cut to our leads holding hands down the street set to the same looping lounge music we've been dealing with for over 90 damn minutes. Is everyone else who went with them dead? Did they live? Who cares! That's one thing the movie and I can agree on since we never see them again. We end on a shitty cliffhanger that's supposed to prepare us for a sequel, which thankfully never happened.
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And that was Wishbone. Holy fucking shit, I've never been so thankful for a movie to be over in my life. It's 11:07 PM as of tinkering with some minor revisions and I've been in purgatory with this for over five hours, and yet, it feels like an entire lifetime has gone by.
I've raved about how bad Blood Lake was with its incredibly bad pacing, but this is next level awful and a testament to bad filmmaking if I've ever seen it. I expect a lot of the things I complained about from super amateur filmmakers who are shooting on an actual shoestring budget, not people who had that much money to fuck around with. How did they have that kind of a budget, and the most they can give us is bad audio, Windows Movie Maker levels of basic editing, three wrap parties, and a few crumbs of gore that we could see?
This was physically painful to see and I'm in much worse shape having endured it than I would have been if I sat through something liked Boardinghouse, and that has a two-and-a-half-hour-long version tied to it. This is just a marvel and I mean that in a so-bad-it's-bad way, not like how SOV enthusiasts who love this stuff pine over. If I had to give one thing going for it, one single granule of gold that I enjoyed from this, it's the limited shots we get of the area so I could make a game out of seeing what local spots I recognized. If playing I Spy is the only way for someone to endure your movie, then I don't know what else to say.
Wishbone is a hot mess where shit's happening, but also nothing is happening at the same time. I wouldn't wish this on anyone. In fact, I wish this movie never existed or would die in the ether and never return to our mortal realm ever again. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go have a smoke and hope I don't get run over by a hearse tomorrow.
RATING: 0.5/10
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If i had to pick an American Cookie that can be bought in the store today, hands down it would be this one.
Living in New Mexico for 20 years, i rarely see a black person. I can go 785 days without seeing an African American. Because i have.
So, it's shocking to go to Arkansas or even Oklahoma and see large groups of Black People and i stare. I don't forget they exist due to the internet.. But I never see them so it's like visiting Mount Rushmore or the Grand Canyon. Its this natural amazing marvel. And I just stare usually with my jaw dropped like some social retard. Which I'm not typically. And Hey -- I'm not the only New Mexican that does that shit. We simply have a serious minority of African Americans here. I understand places like Mississippi don't think they're a minority. But if i can leave my house every day and not see a African American, then you're a minority. Just as in higher areas of African American Domination, i like to call it, there isn't many Latina or Hispanic or Mexicans as there are here. In Mississippi, they're a minority and here they're all "bitch we rule this shit! We own New Mexico!"
So due to actual minority being true of African Americans (in the 90s i picked it because it was always claimed officially so I just accepted as NYC is a huge vast mix of all kinds of culture. I figured they actually went out and counted them. But i wanted to explain to those whom don't travel and don't experience life in other places in the United States.
So in the 90s the Harringtons and I and as he preferred to be called, Captain Negro, his super hero name. Captain Negro del ela Ponte if you wanted to get legal about it. Decided to pick an "American Cookie" we could easily purchase for Sunday nights. And of course it had to be absolutely perfect.
"Taste Great but Look the Part as Touched by a negros heart and soul" said Captain Negroponte as I called him or Captain Negro Party or Captain Negro Parte especially when i didn't know how to explain something.
I tell you. I've always been smart. Miss Leena always hides and plays dumb and just tells history. But to compare and contrast and make analogies i truly learned from this man whom was my English Compilation Teacher, a True Super Hero.
For the cookie experiment. I talked to Miss Leena but she wouldn't explain. She just gave me the type of cookie and told me I would know what to do.
William Harrington said, "I dont know to me a cookie is just a cookie and my wife makes them great!"
And Willingima. we called her, Harrington, at the (jokingly) threat of our own lives said she did not know either she just had to bake she had said as when quietly embroidered under the table a gift for the Captain Hero's family.
So he came over and we told him and his eyes lit up and he was bouncing around with excitement at the table. "So the cookies are.... But I sure don't know how to explain anything but the chocolate"
"Okay explain me"
I did
"And these are just regular old fashioned chocolate chip, not chocolate on chocolate dough or white chocolate chip?"
"I could ask miss leena but im sure it's the old fashioned."
"Lets call her"
She said that the Chocolate dough (black/dark brown dough) with white chocolate chips would be An African cookie -- for their culture here in America and in actually Africa.
So we were all at the phone all listening in, the phone turned all the way up. Now this is the 90s wall phone no speaker phone ability.
So Captain Negroponte told me back at the table, "so you know the old fashioned. Idk why she wouldn't explain the chocolate on chocolate because of the two different browns. But you know I'll stay out of it. I think i do know the sugar but let me just check. What did she say on the phone to you when she called?"
"Well she called just out of the blue. Asked for Sabrina and i thought she was asleep and so i said she was as she hadn't came down (stairs -- our bedrooms were up and i was just living there For the summer or however long until i had to go back to work into the city i moved out October 9, 1991 due to riots in Brooklyn because i had to go help as i spoke about this last week. Officially moved in July 4th of the same year) and she said and i quote "well just tell sabrina this, that i called and she needs to do a cookie experiment. A white old fashioned cookie of chocolate chip flavor and a sugar cookie. She should know what to do with all of your help" she sounded old and she said her husband wasn't home and she was just resting. So i said "well ill let you go" and she said no and wanted to know all about our enterprise feeding the Street neighborhood kids and asked about money and she said "well Sabrina can help" do you -- do you have money? I sure am tired of eating hot dogs myself. This is getting expensive! I mean for us"
I replied "i do have some... Ill talk to Steve to see what we should do and how much and the best way to go about this"
"No now you seem nervous and she said you have a lot"
"Billions" she said the same time I said "millions"
"And you said some.. You said what? What you got now hon?"
"You said I'm a billionaire and i wouldn't ever lie to anyone but Steve explained to me, hes my lawyer, he said that i needed not to explain how rich i am but if someone needed money I'm to say i only have one million dollars and that is it. And i said "but that is a lie!" And he said "but no it is not not when I'm not allowing you to give out more than thousands without my approval" and i was mad!!! But in the end i saw what Steve said i should see. Its dangerous to advertise how rich i am"
"Bull shit! We probably have the richest girl in the world here sitting at our table and im telling her to penny pinch! Babe! We're having steaks next week! Put that on the list!"
"I'll pay you guys all back!"
"No!" "No!" "No!"
"No. Yes i mean i know you all did it from the goodness of your hearts but you shouldn't suffer. And i didn't realize that you were. I mean i thought you just wanted to eat hot dogs. I didn't know there was any difference"
"Blah!"
"So what I'll do. Because Steve said I'm allowed up to thousands and you're still in hundreds last i checked. $991 for the last three weeks for the entire house budget. So I'll at least double that and give Captain Nero the same. For the time y'all have spent working and then what i meant i would have to talk to Steve is that I would have to design a plan for the future. What he's talked about is supplying a credit card with a limit capable of exceeding the design purchases. So like if you need $900,000 a month then the credit card would allow $1 million. That's what hes explained to me. Then he would supply 12 blank checks for the year then all you would do is call the number on the back of the card once monthly to find out the balance and get the address, write the check and then mail it to the credit card company. Easy as that. He would get the bills to look over to see you're not scamming me. Then he can stop payment on the rest of the checks if you are and cancel the card. That goes for everyone. So for this i think that is what he would pick. It sounds simple. Of course, I don't pay bills or anything like that. Steve always handles it for me. But I'll still have to talk to Steve to get that program under way. And I'll make sure he pays you and you and of course you for past supplies and your time"
So they agreed to the extra payment but wanted to do work free. Mrs Harrington got $15 per day for taking care of me. And still does although she doesn't take care of me anymore, her influence still lives within me and is what made me who I truly am today.
If it wasn't for her, I wouldn't ever asked criminals how they wanted their ending to be. I would have ripped them off the streets and tortured them one by one ripping off pieces of their body while injected with a chemical that made them highly alert and aware of what was happening. For 6 years and 600 days. Them never knowing when it would be the day to lose something they deemed important.
Instead of dungeons and torture chambers, they have a chance at luxury and happiness.
Those asking for death instead have a right to live in peace and make their amends and do as they need. The miserable are killed first to stop their pain and suffering. 72 wanted vacation before. They got that.
If it wasn't for the Harringtons and Captain Negro, never would that occurred.
They saved a wretch like me and in turn, I saved those worst than me. As Jesus would. She taught me all about the belief of Jesus and who they believed he was
Over Captain Harrington's right shoulder was a cross with me looking down or asleep. They eyes were closed. I felt it was the most accurate representation of me. It even had lumps on it's chest. And I always felt so much responsibility. She believed the Unorthodox Jewish ways with a Catholic overcoat. She was non-religious before marriage so she had a mix of views and dabble in all spirits of religion. Also, the occult.
So when her cheeks were pink and her bright blue eyes lit up, and she told me about Jesus. I always prayed to the Lord in Hevaen that I would live up to her expectations.
And often I would look at that cross and feel the thorns cutting into my forehead. "I hope we can do it. Change the world as expected" I would say.
There were times i would take it off the wall "i feel Jesus should watch some T.V., too" i didn't want to say who i was. Mrs Harrington thought i felt that crown of thorns because Jesus was telling me that i knew things and i should act. Of course I didn't really know who I was, either, at first. Mommy thought it was too much but Daddy told me and said I should keep it secret. But I could tell who or what I want. So I decided to honor mommy and not say. But incorporate Jesus since he was such a big part of Catholicism and decor in the house, daddy said that would make Jesus alive in the house and keep my secret. But allow my full powers to bloom.
And it worked.
So Captain Negroponte said that day that he kept getting questions from one particular kid as tall as me about White Supremacy and how his family taught him that all white people were bad and "only play with nigger kids" so he was certain he knew how to explain the white sugar cookie as long as i could do "the chocolate chip without fail then it would all be good and life would be perfect for this particular child"
"I can. I know just what to do. It will be perfect"
"Okay don't tell me. I dont want to hear until that day"
So he left with a bounce and his eyes glittery. His soul full of tears for this young man, looking back where he left all his hope and faith, walked down the short dark hall and into the sunlight of a cool brisk Saturday afternoon.
"Hey now i might need some help. I know i need to show the white dough and then how it tans when baked. I got that talking to her on the phone"
"Well she didn't say --"
"She said Bake. And i was transformed back into her kitchen and had a white plastic bowl which i put into the oven -- it was empty and out it came a clay not crystal like ours but ceramic Brown bowl with the white inside. So i know what to say about White people tanning to make 2 races so we all have to support the black"
"You you get!! So not all white people are the same!!! Good good!!"
"Shew! Thank you! So I was at the kitchen in the sink.. I mean -- i said that backwards -- so anyway I'm in the kitchen and i see the silver sink and the bowl appears before my eyes and suddenly im holding it in my hands and i went to hand the phone to you as i tried to hand the bowl to her in my standing hands and she didn't sound old like she did in the phone, she sounded very young and sing song. And she said "no the children" so what we have to do is give the bowl to each of the children and let them mix it themselves. That will help white supremacy in however that means. So then the black kids all add the chocolate chips. And then when we bake. That will represent the Muslims that i used to help when in was younger and who framed me to be as i am today. But the kids don't all know that so it will represent all the darker but lighter skin than black you know like Puerto Riccans and Vietnamese and Chinese and all those sorts of people and how the African Americans have inserted their "language" into us to make the world such an amazing place. Without them we wouldn't be the cookie we are today here in 1991. Isn't that right, Jesus?"
"Oh don't look at him so harsh. What do you need me to do?"
"Bake the cookies. At the start we will mix then he will tell a story then we will do the baking. We can do two days in a row or we can help you here in the kitchen. Megan and i can take turns like we always do and so if we wanted to spread the word for two weeks since its getting so cold, we can start in the afternoon instead of dusk. And do the two different cookies the same time -- No i mean in the ssme day"
"Okay that could work. We will just let Captain Nero know and I'm sure he could come up with two great stories to pass the time. And you will pay?"
"Oh yes. Yes of course. And when I talk to Steve I'll ensure Miss Harriet Tubman is getting her cut although she always paid on her own and said she was on solid woman and could make it doing all she pleased, her husband is still working. But he's a police sergeant so I know its not for money. But she could buy her something nice with his pension."
"Pension?"
"Oh he has two. He works a lot. One thinks she's like 80 and the other 102 or 103 i think it is. So one will be cut surely i assume. She said she doesn't think she can make it to 120 without them getting onto her"
"And his paycheck?"
"Oh he donates it to science. They own their own trailer and car and BBQ"
"BBQ?"
"BBQ Grill. Of course though if i gave her money she would probably just clothes the whole entire neighborhood. I'll ask Steve if thats what she wants or that i could do. She said that was the only thing she had left in life to apply for. I guess she always knew i had money thats why she gave me the evil eye. She always provides them gloves in the winter -- except she buys them in the summer when they're cheaper and puts them in a box to save them till it gets cold again. I tell you. She is smart. So about these sugar cookies. I sure hope it works. It seems the opposite of what we set out to do. All white with beautiful crystals on top. She said to make them look so worthwhile and be as perfect as possible..."
So while the White Supremacist cookie is after all just a cookie that we used to explain to a child that was deeply courageous to learn more and actually educated his parents and they hugged me with forgiveness, myself being white.
I have explained the example. And to further educate, the Sugar Cookie in all other reality when not used for a demonstrations, is just a cookie we bake when we have no other additives.
But as Captain Negro (you may call him Captain Nero as Mrs Harrington would as she refused to "see" any color other than the colors of the rainbow") explained we should always try to find something good to add to something that is empty of extras. Be it fruit from like the Garden of Eden or be it nuts or seeds like Big Bird from Sesame Street, prefers, we should always fill our life and our cookies with as much goodness as possible. But some days, he said, some days its okay to have just a plain ole bit of sugar. As long as it's full of love and not hate.
So please do enjoy your plain white sugar cookies that are made with love. Black Panthers nor "all" white people do not encourage prejudice -- even if it's just against a cookie.
God bless us.
So we picked for our "American Cookie" the cookie below: because of the way it looks and the way it tastes. I encourage you to buy some today. As you can see the chocolate chips are hidden just as African American Heritage is hidden. And when we take a bite a beautiful explosion of chocolate erupts and elivenes our spirits.
And to top the cookie off, all of this occurs inside. Hidden away. Just like our souls are.
Thank you for listening. If these people could touch you just one percent how much they changed my life and gave me love and education and pride and so much faith in other people. Then you will be so better off
I hope you allow them to touch your souls.
Now here is the cookie you all have been waiting for:
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We would laugh. And call it the "Soft Bitch" we may be going hard and fighting loud but we always have time for a tear, a hand to hold, a face to hug.
Because this is The United States of America. And she ain't all that bad. Not her citizens. Her government. Yes. But her citizens are blessed by her rich history of which she had no control over.
The American Cookie. A brown cookie, like a white person tans with perfect pieces of Black African American heart and soul baked in. Cookies of the United States of America. I always called them "American Cookies" We even had kids sit and mix up chocolate chip dough from scratch, each child getting to mix and have an ingredient added while they mixed. They all got to see the raw dough was White. Then They were baked with love by Momma Harrington and they came out tan. Like white people do in the sun. So they could see for certain how the African American were and are in the souls and minds of white people. And how without the African American pieces of love they were not complete. To prove this we made cookies without the chips and they were bland. "But What about White Supremacy? Because that was just America without us. But What about how they think?" I was asked. "I guess we could try Sugar Cookies then and see what happens. So we made beautiful sugar cookies with sugar crystals on top. Thank God our Black Panther Leader knew the words because i was at a loss.
"We all mixed and made those cookies. We saw what was in them! Sugar! We made them appeasing to the eye and different looking and more special looking than an old Chocolate Chip with those crystals. But those crystals?!? They ain't nothing. We got them in chocolate chip and that is all they put in the White Mass cookies. Then we sprinkled a little on top to make them look clean and beautiful like a real treasure. But the Treasure is Truth!!! They're missing the real thing! Sure they look beautiful especially in the sun, the crystals reflecting the lights all over but those crystals are Blinding us to the Truth!!! They are all a fraud!! But go ahead, eat them. I would too. White supremacist and all. Now let's growl!!"
Reminder Established in 1991:
Miss Leena has a different fund called ""Harriet Tubman's Self Worth Working Still Today" and she has 778 users of my funds whom also feed the people of their neighborhood and streets. They do collard greens, steak and potatoes soup daily. Saturday and Sunday add hot dogs and Sunday Morning they do their African American Heritage Stories. Of course 68% are certified Black Panthers as well but no one has to pledge to an organization to feed children with love m they just follow their hearts.
The account labeled "Black Panther Food Allocation - For the Street Kids" 962 people across the globe do this on their personal streets nightly. Feed kids collard greens, hot dogs and/or hamburgers (with cheese and iceberg lettuce, tomato, onions, relish and so on). And on Sundays tell the stories of Black American Leaders that intended to destroy prejudice and mistreatment and succeeded and the listeners all get cookies.
Of course I bought the secret Cookie to represent our Nation. The United States of America.
The United States was founded officially on July 4, 1776.
Due to this i requested our policy be to employ no more than 77% of African American and no less than 76% the remaining percent be of at least 4 different shades of white.
We start at $18 per hour as that is the adult age in the USA to represent freedom. We employ 2020 in each factory setting arena.
Then we changed the recipe, to take out the lumps. To promise a better and smoother future for all.
The Original cookie to represent the past is gone is pictured on the box as well as an elf. It is not misrepresentation of what is inside, unless you expected to find an elf as well. In no way is there any identifying words that says that is the what the cookie looks like inside. But it is the Original cookie artwork packaging as i bought it in 1991.
We have been sued over the artwork not representing the contents. Once i sued myself and won. I got good game. Y'all. Persuaded everyone to see it my way! It was a mock trial. And so it was to prepare for a real trial which did occur and we did win. We simply told the truth of our packaging and said we were not ready to reveal it. It was 2007 and we hadn't done a full reveal since 1991 and so why not leave us alone as we couldn't promise the change?!?!
We did word of mouth and some soft T.V. programming to indicate it. But never The full storey as I have today in pulic.
So again here is the Original cookie it did actually look like but did crumble more -- we kept that chocolate chip explosion. But bake them twice to have an outer coating of smoothness.
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