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plumfondler · 2 years

Text

Heaven Can Wait

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Word count: 6k, my bad.

Warnings: smut smut smut. unprotected sex. mentions of murder and dumb ass cops.

MINORS DNI

Summary?: This is a Hawkins AU where there is no Upside Down, but there sure are a lot of mysteries, and the scooby gang (including you) has solved dozens of them. Eddie Munson is about to get accused of murder, and you find out what it's like when the gang gets shit done while you're not around. Should this have a second part? I have no idea.

A/N: This is dedicated to my hypebeast @gaybybirth without whom this story would not exist. Your support and encouragement mean the world to me. And thanks for telling me to use those two prompts <3 lol

Also a huge thank you to @munson-trashcan, @poppy-metal & @peterthepark for your filth that has kept me going these past few weeks, and supplying my soul with so much Eddie Munson that I started writing again for the first time in over a year.

You slammed your car door and ran into Hawkins High as the sky opened up and fat raindrops started falling- a few hitting your face just before you made it inside.

As a theater kid you really didn’t have anywhere to channel your energy after graduation, so when they asked if you wanted to direct the drama class musicals, you jumped at the chance. The first year didn’t go too well, but you had to admit you had other reasons for wanting to try again.

“Alright everyone that was much, much better! Keep it up! See you tomorrow!” you announced.

The class quickly scattered as you saw the Dungeons and Dragons club scramble into the room to set up their things.

One nice thing about directing was the schedule: the drama class was the last period of the day so you didn't have to spend all day at the school.

Another nice thing was seeing him again.

Eddie Munson entered the room, excitedly talking to his friends about something he just added to their campaign. You smiled to yourself and gathered your things to leave.

"Runnin’ off so soon?"

Your heart skipped as you turned to see Eddie standing behind you, thumbs tapping on the notebook he held to his chest.

"I'll be out of your way soon, sorry!" Was all you could say before your face heated up.

"Take your time, please stay and hang if you like, it's real nasty out," he said, turning to walk towards the table.

You looked out the window and cursed; the rain was blowing sideways and empty trash cans were tumbling by rapidly. You really didn't want to go outside right now, let alone drive home.

"If you don't mind, I might try to wait it out? I'll be quiet as a mouse," you said, putting your things down and taking a seat in the rows of chairs in the back of the room.

"We definitely won't be," Eddie grinned, taking a deep breath before diving into his story with a booming voice.

It stormed for the next four days straight; Eddie convinced you to wait out the storm each day, though he didn't have to try that hard. When it finally stopped raining, Eddie had other reasons to ask you to stay, so you stayed.

---

It was the last week of school and you were panicking trying to think of what to say to Eddie before the break. You wanted to keep seeing him, so why couldn’t you just say that?

You had a shift after school at Family Video with Steve and Robin, and you were considering confessing your crush to them to get their advice.

"Hey guys, I just saw the weirdest thing," Max said as she came into the store, seconds after you arrived.

You turned to look at the tiny redhead, waiting for her to continue as Robin and Steve joined you.

"Eddie just came home, went to his trailer, ran right back out and got into his van and sped off. Like he was running from something."

"Eddie is a weird dude," Steve shrugged, stacking tapes.

Three police cars sped by the store towards the trailer park and you all looked at each other.

Robin spun around and picked up the phone to call Nancy who always knew what was going on; you had a sinking feeling in your stomach.

Robin spoke with Nancy quietly and hung up the phone a few seconds later.

"They found a dead girl in Eddie's trailer."

Your legs gave out and you grabbed the counter to keep yourself from falling over; Steve and Robin both lunged at you to hold you up.

"I'm fine," you said weakly, waving them off and lowering yourself to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest.

"He was at school all day, right?" Steve asked.

"I saw him when I went by to get some things from the drama room about an hour ago," you said numbly, thinking about the way his smile lit up his face.

“Also, obviously,” Robin started, elbowing Steve in the ribs, “Eddie would never hurt anyone, let alone murder.”

“Yes! Of course!” Steve said, hurriedly.

Rumors spread like wildfire. By dinner time, the local news had already mentioned that the police were interested in finding Eddie to ask him questions, and all hell broke loose.

Soon everyone in town was talking about how Eddie the Freak was a murderer, even though dozens of people had seen him throughout day. Even though Tammy Perkins, the sophomore at Hawkins high that was the unfortunate victim, wasn't seen anywhere near Eddie the entire day, let alone all year.

You had to help Eddie, and Steve and Robin seemed to be on the same page; you gathered everyone to search for Eddie as soon as you closed the video store.

---

Steve slid the pizza onto the counter in your kitchen and took a piece, Dustin sat with you at the table in front of the window and sighed, resting his head in his hands.

Nancy sat across from you and reached a hand to put over yours, "We're going to find him. Before anyone else does."

You believed her, you always believed Nancy when she said things with such confidence.

It had been three days and you still hadn’t found Eddie.

The doorbell rang and everyone in your kitchen froze.

The doorbell rang again and your dad walked in to look around at you all.

"No, no, I'll get it," he said dryly, walking past everyone towards the front door.

You looked out the window and cursed under your breath as you saw the police car in the driveway.

"Good evening officer, how can I help you?"

"Yes, sir, I was told that your daughter has been seen with the Munson boy, is this true?"

You quickly joined your father at the door with your hands on your hips, not in the mood to be pushed around.

"Been seen with my friend Eddie Munson? Yes. The innocent man who is being targeted by an angry mob of civilians that the police are doing nothing to stop."

Your father cleared his throat.

"Now listen here, if we found a dead body in your house we'd have some questions for you too," the officer said.

"Of course. But you'd also not condone random ass people running around with guns trying to shoot an innocent person just because he likes rock music and fantasy games!"

"So are you coming down to the station to answer questions then or are we going to do it here?" The officer asked through gritted teeth.

"Please, come in, officer…" your father said, opening the door.

“Pond,” the officer responded, “Officer Pond.”

Your mother came down the stairs and froze, "Lloyd, dear, why are the police in our house?"

"Well Evelyn, they threatened our daughter, so now they get to ask questions here instead of at the station with our lawyer."

Officer Pond paused and looked at your annoyed parents, then turned around to look at his car.

"Let me get my partner in here, just a second."

Your parents huffed and Officer Pond left to get his partner.

Your mother turned to you quickly and took your hands, "Honey, answer their questions as vaguely as possible. No details, no extra information.”

"And please don't antagonize them," your father added.

Before you could respond, the two officers returned, and on their heels were Mike, Max, Lucas, Will, and Erica.

"Why are you here?" Erica said before she was even through the door, "there is a killer on the loose and it is NOT a nerdy boy who plays guitar."

"Yeah!" The rest of them replied.

"Alright, alright you five, let the officers do their job," your father showed the cops to the kitchen and told the five intruders to stay where they were.

You heard a thump from upstairs and your eyes widened as they met Nancy's from across the room.

Next to you, Steve grabbed your shoulder and started coughing; Dustin leapt to his feet to get him water, making extra noises with the chair and lecturing Steve loudly about chewing his food properly.

You backed slowly out of the kitchen, and once out sight you bolted up the stairs to your room.

You threw open the door to see Eddie Munson wiggling his way into your room through your window which was open as wide as it could: a little over a foot.

"Eddie!" You hissed, grabbing him by the shoulders and yanking him inside. "It's BARELY dark, what if someone sees you?!"

"Darlin, I'm running out of options."

You heard heavy steps up the stairs and panicked, shoving Eddie in your closet just as your bedroom door started to open.

"What's going on in there?" Pond’s voice came through the crack in the door.

You pushed the door shut with all your weight, "I'm changing, you fucking perv! Steve aspirated pizza all over me."

The officer outside your bedroom stumbled over an apology and quickly hurried away from your room and back down the stairs.

Eddie poked his head out of your closet.

"Did you just call a cop a fuckin perv?"

"I did."

Eddie put a hand over his mouth and shook with silent laughter.

You reached next to him for a shirt and turned Eddie around to face away from you.

"You keep manhandling me like this, I'm gonna demand you buy me dinner. What are you doing?"

"I have to change. If I go back in the same clothes they'll be suspicious."

Eddie hummed in response and you quickly changed.

You turned him back around, keeping your hands on his shoulders, "Stay here. Stay quiet. I will be back soon."

Eddie nodded silently and you held his eye contact for a bit longer, needing him to feel your calm.

"You're safe here," you said softly, cupping his face in your hand.

Eddie squeezed his eyes shut and leaned into your touch, nodding again.

When you got back downstairs the two police officers were walking out the door, followed by Max, Will, Erica, Mike, and Lucas.

"Jesus Christ, that was an event," your mother said, falling back onto the couch as the front door closed.

"Why are you friends with so many children again?" Your father asked, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"We'd be here for a while to answer that question," Steve said, "is everyone okay?" He asked, looking directly at you.

"Yes," you nodded, "fine."

"How did you do that? They didn't ask me anything." You said.

"We kind of bullied them into leaving?" Steve offered, scratching his head.

"More like psychologically manipulated, but yes. Your dad implied that the police department can be vulnerable to lawsuits from people who are questioned about crimes they don't have any connection to if it damages their reputation in the community," Robin said.

You put your head in your hands, "thanks dad." You mumbled.

"Alright!" Nancy clapped her hands, "that tall cop was shifty as hell and I don't trust him at all. Robin and I are going to go talk to the neighbors in the trailer park and-"

"And I'm coming with you because that sounds dangerous since a teenager was just murdered there," your father said, standing up.

Nancy seemed to be caught off guard by this, looking between you and your father; you shrugged.

"He makes a good point. Also he's deceptively strong," you said.

"Okay then, let's go,” Robin nodded.

Robin, Nancy, and your father filed out the door and Dustin grabbed his bag looking up at Steve.

"Let's go to the library, I have thoughts and need additional information."

"I guess we're breaking into the library," Steve said, running his hands through his hair and down his face.

"It's not difficult," your mother said from the couch, "just don't break anything, please, they're so nice and a real pillar of the community. But they do make it really difficult to do late night research in this god forsaken town, don't they?"

"I'm really starting to understand you better," Steve said to you, staring at your mother.

"Keep our boy safe," Steve said quietly, nudging you with his shoulder on his way out.

"Of course."

"Honey, I'll be downstairs working on my quilt. I need to be alone for the rest of the evening," your mom sighed, pulling herself up off the couch.

You nodded, "alright, I'll be in my room."

Once you were alone, you made a plate of food for Eddie: leftover meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and a few rolls.

You found Eddie sitting in the corner behind the door in your room, hugging his knees to his chest, his fingers drumming on his arms. You closed the door and sat in front of him; Eddie lifted his head and his eyes widened as he saw the plate.

"For me?"

"No Eddie, I made myself a plate of food to eat in front of you."

"Look, I've had a very bad week."

Your face fell, "I'm so sorry, Eddie, my default mode is sarcasm."

"No I get it, me too," he said, taking the plate with both hands.

You stuck a fork in the potatoes and he smiled, holding the plate with one hand and stabbing the loaf of meat with the fork. He took a bite of it and sighed, closing his eyes.

"It's been three days. All I've had is dry cereal, chips, warm YooHoo, and two cans of cold beans."

"The gang is close to solving this, I know it. They'll get the guy soon and you won't have to hide anymore."

"Yeah? What are they gonna do about the mob of people who want to kill me?"

"I'm not sure yet, but we're going to figure it out together, okay?"

Eddie nodded.

"After you eat you can take a shower," you nodded towards the bathroom connected to your room.

Eddie raised an eyebrow, "fancy."

Eddie dropped his leather jacket on the floor and started tugging his shirt over his head on his way to the bathroom. You distracted yourself by digging through your closet for old clothes. You found your old school gym shirt and a pair of sweatpants for Eddie to change into, trying not to dwell on the thought that you accidentally had when you realized you didn’t have underwear to loan him.

You heard Eddie sniffing in the shower and your heart ached; you sat on your bed and hugged your pillow. You couldn't imagine what he was going through and you wanted to do everything in your power to keep him from harm.

The shower turned off and you wiped the tears that were rolling down your cheeks. When Eddie came out a few minutes later he was holding your purple towel around his waist.

"Hey, I uh-"

Your heart felt like it fell into your stomach as you saw Eddie lean into your room, water drops rolling down his chest, dripping from his hair.

"Sorry, sorry, forgot to give you these before you went in," you scrambled to your feet and shoved the clothes at Eddie, your cheeks burning hot.

"Thanks," he grinned, turning around to go back into the bathroom.

"Jesus Christ," you mumbled to yourself, wiping your hands down your face.

You turned and took several pillows off of your bed, setting them on the floor. You made a small bed for yourself, and looked around your room for your spare blanket, chewing on your bottom lip.

"Havin' a sleepover?"

Eddie stepped out of the bathroom, now wearing your clothes, running his fingers through his wet hair.

"I figured you've not had a proper sleep in a few days so I'll sleep on the floor and you can take my bed?"

"You want me to sleep here?"

"Eddie, I told you that you're safe here, I really-"

Before you could continue, Eddie's arms were wrapped around you, squeezing tight.

As soon as you started breathing again, you returned his embrace, rubbing your hand up and down Eddie's back.

He quickly jerked away and cleared his throat.

"Sorry," he flinched slightly, spinning one of the rings on his finger with his thumb.

"Don't be, that was nice," you replied, sitting on your bed.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I'm here for hugs if you need them, okay?"

Eddie nodded, his fingers twirling the ends of his hair.

"You uh… got any more of those rolls?" he asked.

"Yeah, let me go see what else I can rustle up."

You went back to the kitchen and took a few deep breaths to calm your nerves before returning to your room with the rest of the dinner rolls, cookies, Coke, and an unopened bag of pretzels.

When you opened the door Eddie was sitting on your bed looking curiously at the jewelry box on top of your dresser.

"No, don't open that!" You gasped.

"What, you still have your baby teeth in he-" Eddie lifted the lid of your jewelry box with his ringed index finger and his words escaped him.

You cringed and put down everything you were carrying, shut the door, and reached over to close the lid of the jewelry box that hid the vibrator you bought last year.

"It's a… uh…"

Eddie looked up at you with bright eyes and a wide grin and you stared at him.

He kept grinning.

"I'm waiting to hear whatever you're about to tell me that this vibrator is. Please explain to me what this sex toy is, I have never in my life seen such a device, so it must be explained to me."

"Alright, alright," you said, grabbing the jewelry box and throwing it into the back of your closet.

"I've never even used the thing," you mumbled, shoving the bag of rolls at Eddie, avoiding eye contact.

"Why did you buy it if you don't use it?" He asked, shoving an entire roll into his mouth.

"I don't know why I bought it in the first place, I've been too afraid someone will hear me use it."

Eddie smirked and you handed him the can of Coke.

"Shut up."

"I didn't say anything!"

"Well, keep it that way."

Your head was reeling as you attempted to think of anything else to say, when the phone on your nightstand rang.

You exhaled and answered.

"Hey Nance, what's going on?" You asked, scooting over so Eddie could sit next to you and put his ear to the receiver with you.

"The killer is working at the police department and we called the FBI," She said, exasperated.

"You what?!" You and Eddie both said.

"Yeah Murray knows a guy and when we told him what we thought was going on, your dad and Murray agreed that there should be other law enforcement involved. Hi Eddie. Sorry about everything."

"Holy shit," you mumbled.

"What about the angry mob after Eddie?"

"Murray has people on that too, but stay hidden, they haven't found them yet."

"Alright thanks for the update."

"Of course. Stay inside. Goodnight."

You put the phone back on the receiver and sighed. Eddie fell back onto the bed with his hands on his face.

"What the fuck is with this fucking town."

"Yeah, I gotta get out of here," you sighed.

"Why haven't you?" Eddie asked, lifting a hand to look at you.

"Why haven't I?"

"Left yet. You graduated two years ago."

"I'm not sure. I really liked being around here…" you shrugged, "and I can't imagine being away from everyone."

"Everyone?"

"Nancy, Robin, Steve, you."

"Me?"

"Of course you, Eddie."

You put a hand on his knee and you felt him tense for a second, but he quickly covered your hand with his and relaxed.

You fell back to lay on the bed and rolled to your side, pulling Eddie into your arms. He immediately buried his head into your neck and secured his arms around you.

You exhaled a shaky breath and rubbed Eddie's back gently, feeling his muscles quiver beneath your touch.

"It's going to be okay. It'll all go back to how it used to be,” you said softly.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"And you'll keep coming to DnD?"

"Absolutely. I have to know what's being so heavily guarded at that keep."

Eddie lifted his head to look at you in surprise.

"You're paying attention to the story?" he asked.

"Eddie, I've been staying to watch your club for the last three months, did you think I was just staring at you the whole time?"

Eddie looked sheepish and shrugged, rolling onto his back, "I mean I guess you can't blame a guy for wishing."

Your heart leapt and you couldn't help the tears that filled your eyes as you reached to hold Eddie's face and press your lips to his. You felt his breath catch as he quickly turned on his side to hold you again, eagerly returning your kiss.

His tongue swiped at your lips and you moaned softly, running your hands over his shoulders to the back of his neck. You felt him melt into your body and your head spun.

You hitched a leg up on Eddie’s hip and he bucked into you, making you gasp as you felt him already hard, pressing into you. You instantly craved more and grinded into him, grasping his shirt and moaning as his erection rubbed against your clit. He whimpered and you felt him shaking as you held him tighter.

You couldn't get close enough, you were squeezing and rubbing every part of each other's backs, sides, faces, and thighs as you grinded into each other. Eddie's hands tried to wander up your shirt but couldn’t get anywhere because he didn't want to let you go. Your legs were tangled together as you tried to wrap them around each other, and eventually you fell off the bed onto the pile of pillows.

You parted, laughing quietly, holding each other's faces.

"Eddie," you breathed, resting your forehead against his.

He whispered your name and nudged your nose with his; you shuddered and clutched his shirt.

"I mean, it did start out as me staring at you the whole time, yes, but I got invested really fast. You are such an incredible storyteller," you said, looking into his soft, dark eyes.

Eddie kissed you in response and you were quickly back to grasping at each other as your tongues swirled together.

You rolled onto your back and pulled Eddie on top of you; he immediately hit his head on your nightstand.

"Ow…" he whispered into your mouth.

"Let's move back up to the bed, yeah?" You said, trying to catch your breath.

"I don't wanna let you go."

"I'm not going anywhere, Eddie. I'm here, I'm yours."

He groaned and kissed your neck, "say that again, please?" He whispered.

"I'm yours, Eddie Munson," you said, holding his face as your stomach tightened, "I am yours and I want you."

"Bed, now." His voice was strained and his eyes were pleading.

You nodded and he pushed himself up, helping you to your feet. Eddie rolled onto the bed, immediately reaching out to you. Your heart pounded as you met his eyes and yanked off your shirt and bra, pushing your pants down before climbing back onto the bed.

Eddie gawked at you as you crawled on top of him in just your panties, he wasn't sure where to focus his attention.

"Oh my god," he whispered, "can I touch you?"

"You better," you said, taking his hand and putting it on your side.

Eddie sighed and ran his fingers over your soft skin, whimpering quietly.

You hummed as his warm hands explored every inch of you while you kissed, finally trailing over your breasts after avoiding them intentionally for several minutes. You moaned as Eddie's fingertips circled your nipples; he sucked in a breath as they pebbled.

"Can I touch you?" You asked, running a hand up his arm.

Eddie tugged the shirt over his head and you smiled, running your hands over his tattoos, feeling his chest rise and fall with every heavy breath.

You leaned over and kissed the tattoos on his chest, then lifted his arm and kissed the ink there. Eddie watched you, lips parted, eyes soft as you handled him so gently.

Eddie reached for your face and pulled you in for a desperate kiss, his hands sliding around your waist and grabbing your ass to pull you against him. You moaned and ran your fingers down his chest, tugging down the waistband of his sweatpants.

"Wait, stop!" Eddie pulled away and you froze, worried you hurt him somehow.

"I am so sorry, I'm just so worked up right now, if you touch me, I’m going to cum," he winced and looked down at your hand that was hovering over him.

You glanced down to see the large wet spot on the tent in his sweatpants. You bit your lip and squeezed your legs together as you stared, eager to touch him and suddenly soaked at the thought of watching him cum.

"What if I want to see that?" You asked, tracing your finger around his stomach, across his waistband.

"Is… that all you want? Not-not that that's a bad thing I'm just wondering…"

You shook your head, "no, it's not, can you keep going after that?"

"Abso-fucking-lutely," Eddie said, pushing the pants down and kicking them off in one swift motion.

You almost moaned as you wrapped your hand around his hot, swollen cock. Eddie gasped and bucked into your fist as you squeezed and gave him a slow stroke, running your fingers around his firm, velvety head.

"You are fucking beautiful," you mumbled, leaning over to kiss Eddie's soft lips as he gasped your name.

You moaned into his mouth as his cock twitched in your hand. Precum flowed from his flushed tip and you used it to give him slow strokes.

"Oh fuck, fuck," he whispered as you nipped at his bottom lip and trailed kisses to his neck.

"Cum for me, Eddie," you whispered in his ear, tugging at his earlobe with your teeth.

Eddie's hand flew to his mouth and he stifled a cry as his hips bucked off the bed and his cock pulsed in your hand. You quickly looked to see his cum spurting from his cock all over your hand and his stomach. You squeezed out every drop and released his spent length, kissing up and down his neck as he caught his breath.

"Fucking hell," he mumbled, "that was a record."

You grinned and kissed his lips, reaching for the nearest item of clothing to clean up with.

As soon as you dropped the shirt, Eddie pulled you to him and kissed you breathless, rolling you onto your back and sliding down your body, taking your panties with him.

"Oh fuck, you smell so amazing," Eddie moaned.

"Can I taste you, baby?" He asked, arms wrapped around your thighs, fingers stroking the insides of them gently.

His dark eyes looking up at you from between your legs had you speechless. You nodded enthusiastically and Eddie grinned, tapping your legs.

"Use your words, sweetheart, need to hear you say it," he said, nuzzling the inside of your thigh with his nose, leaving soft kisses up it.

"Yes, yes!" You whimpered.

Eddie hummed happily and pressed his lips to your mound, kissing and nuzzling you, inhaling your scent as he buried his face between your thighs. He moaned and you squirmed as you felt the vibrations; his hands held your hips and you couldn't help but love the feeling of being pinned by him.

Eddie came up for air and cursed again, "you are so fucking wet, holy fuck."

Before you could even consider responding, Eddie gently spread you apart and licked a line straight up your cunt, ending at your clit. You gasped and he repeated the action three more times, staying on your clit once you whined.

Eddie's tongue lapped at your swollen bundle of nerves and his hands ran up and down your thighs as they trembled. Your hands went to his head as he devoured you slowly, your orgasm approaching so much faster than you could've imagined. Eddie felt you tense and moaned into you, his hips grinding into the bed as his tongue circled your clit.

"Don't stop, don't stop, fuck, Eddie I'm gonna come," you cried softly.

Eddie sent you tumbling over the edge with one final slow flick of his tongue and your back was arching off the bed, your thighs squeezing his head.

Eddie moaned as your body shook with your release; as soon as you relaxed, Eddie was crawling up your body leaving kisses along the way.

You lifted a shaky hand and he met it with his face, nuzzling into it.

"You taste so good."

"Fuck," you breathed, your entire body was shaking and Eddie wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you tight.

"You okay?" he asked, nuzzling your neck.

"More than okay," you whispered, "just a bit dizzy."

Eddie grinned proudly and you ran a hand through his soft hair.

"You have an incredible mouth," you mumbled, running a thumb over his bottom lip.

You stared at each other for a while and lazily explored one another, kissing intermittently. Once the haze from your orgasm dissipated, your kisses became more desperate. You pulled Eddie closer, wrapping a leg around him, rubbing yourself against his cock.

"Oh fuck, baby, you're dripping all over my dick," he moaned, his hips bucking so his cock nudged your tender lips, making you gasp.

"You like that?" He asked.

You nodded and he did it again, grinding a little, getting harder against your slick cunt.

"Oh my god, Eddie, I need you inside me, please."

Eddie rolled on top of you and knelt between your legs,

"I don't have any condoms…" he said, his face falling.

"Me either, can you pull out?" You asked, running your thumbs over his hip bones, watching his perfect cock jump at your proximity.

Eddie nodded, "yeah. Yeah I can do that. And I'm clean, I promise baby," he said, holding your hand to his heart.

"Me too, I trust you, Eddie."

The look in his eyes was pure adoration as he held your face and leaned over to kiss you. You wrapped your arms around Eddie and he sighed as your kiss deepend.

Eddie reached down and guided himself into you. Once his tip settled at your entrance you both took in shaky breaths and held each other tight as he slowly pushed his hips forward.

His thick cock filled you slowly, heat and tingles immediately spreading over you. You gasped and dug your nails into his back; Eddie groaned.

"Oooh wow. Ooh fuck," he breathed, stilling as he bottomed out.

You squeezed your legs around Eddie as he brushed his hair out of your face with a smile.

"You okay?" He asked softly.

"Yeah, just stings a little, gotta get used to you," you said, pulling his face to yours, kissing him tenderly.

"I'll wait as long as you need," he said between kisses.

"You feel so incredible," he said, dropping his head to your shoulder and kissing up your neck.

"You fill me up so good, Eddie," you said, shifting your hips slightly, “mmm, you can move now.”

Eddie held you as close as possible and only moved his hips, dragging his cock out slowly, and pushing back in. You moaned softly and Eddie repeated his action, again and again.

Just as it was when it began, you couldn't get close enough, your bodies pressed together, your legs locked around him, your arms holding him against you as he rutted into you.

Eddie was so deep inside of you, you could barely breathe. He kissed you tenderly and held your face with one hand, weaving his free hand with one of yours and holding it to the bed. You held his face and met his eyes as he thrust into you steadily, keeping a slow pace.

"Is… is this okay?" He asked, running his thumb over your cheek.

You kissed his thumb and nodded, "yes, it's perfect Eddie, you feel so fucking good."

"You feel amazing, so wet, so tight," he breathed, circling his hips and rolling them slowly.

Eddie kissed you and the room spun around you as his slow, deep thrusts matched the speed of his tongue swirling with yours.

You moaned and lifted your hips slightly, gasping as he started grinding against your clit with every thrust.

"Oh god Eddie, right there, fuck," you cried softly, clinging to him as you felt the warm tingling start to spread throughout your body.

“You’re squeezin’ me so tight, baby, come for me,” Eddie moaned in your ear, grinding into you harder.

You gasped as his cock flexed and brushed against your g-spot, his pubic bone grinding against your clit; you saw stars as your orgasm washed over you. You bit down on Eddie’s shoulder to keep yourself from screaming as you came. Eddie gasped and immediately pulled out of you, his head barely out of the folds of your pussy as thick ropes of cum pulsed from his cock all over your twitching clit. You cried out and bucked your hips, instantly obsessed with the feeling of Eddie’s warm cum dripping down your cunt as the tip of his cock rubbed your clit and dragged out your release.

Eddie’s body went limp on top of you and he rolled to his side, taking you with him and holding you to his heaving chest. You lifted your head and held his face, kissing him softly. Eddie sighed and returned your sweet kiss, holding your face and peppering it with kisses.

You held each other and calmed down eventually, laying in silence for several minutes.

“Wow, well done, I’m usually so talkative.”

You snorted and grabbed a pillow to stifle your burst of laughter. Eddie pulled the pillow away from your face and you turned to see him grinning at you.

“I love your laugh.”

You held his face and kissed his nose and grinned at each other for a few more silent minutes.

You glanced at the clock and saw that it was almost midnight; then the phone rang and you and Eddie were yanked out of your bubble.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Steve. We’re all together and found some really weird shit, are you okay?”

“Yeah, trying to figure out if it’s better to try to rest or be on guard all night,” you sighed, rolling onto your back and wiping a hand down your face.

“Don’t worry, get some rest, both of you, we’re across the street at my house and we’ll keep watch, okay?”

“Oh yeah? He got binoculars that can see in here?” Eddie asked.

“Yeah Steve, you peeping?” you asked.

“W-what? No! I wouldn’t! Wait, what would I be-?”

Robin grabbed the phone out of Steve’s hand.

“Hi, Steve is stammering so get some sleep kids, we’ll come by in the morning, okay? Goodnight!”

The line went dead and you hung up the phone.

“We’re supposed to get some sleep, I guess,” you said, taking Eddie’s face in your hands.

“Yeah, I’m not really tired yet,” he said, biting his lip.

“Wanna find out if Steve has binoculars?” you asked.

Eddie giggled and kissed you, rolling over on top of you, “how would we do that?”

His hair hung down and framed your face, tickling you as he held himself up with his hands on either side of your head.

“Well, if we stay up all night doing things that would make Steve blush and then see him tomorrow, we might find out?”

“All night, you say?” Eddie whispered, kissing up your neck and capturing your lips with his, making you moan and arch your body up into his.

“Or until we exhaust each other, I guess,” you shrugged.

“Until we exhaust each other it is.”

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fan fiction

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twstfanblog · 5 months

Note

I love your writing so much! Your Yuu OC is so cool and I am so obsessed with their energy <3

Writing request time~! Can I get some headcannons of Yuu visiting all of the twst clubs for the first time?

HI FRIEND! Sorry this took me so long to do! But ok, so I actually have this planned out as a chapter in my main story fic. So this is a perfect way to get it all written out for myself!

BUT ONTO THE ASK! MY YUU'S FIRST IMPRESSION OF THE NRC CLUBS!

BASKETBALL CLUB

Hi Jamil~ Flirty to the max, making him miss the shot he was trying to do

Isn't into sports in the slightest, but wanted to see what was offered at the school

Is honestly, too physical to play basketball, she'd be elbowing people in the ribs and Floyd would be supporting her

So for the safety of the other teams, Yuu was not allowed to join

Promises to come to the games to cheer for Jamil and Floyd (And Ace, but fuck him)

TRACK CLUB

Not a chance in hell. Boobs too big to be running around

Made fun of Deuce for thinking the school would have what is basically a motorcycle club

Did tell him it was a good choice of club since he wanted to be a cop in his future

Left the second Vargas showed up

BOARD GAMES CLUB

"Oh cool, Ortho's brother" "I have a name." "I don't care."

Liked the idea of the club, but couldn't see themselves actually joining. Enjoyed making Idia think they were gonna join

First meeting with Azul takes place here

Told them about the concept of 'The Game' and let that seed of chaos be planted into Idia's head to use against Azul at the most random of times (Sorry I made you lose UnU;)

EQUESTRIAN CLUB

"How much money does this school have?????"

Another they had no intention of joining but was really interested in watching

Later on, they help out with basic horse care if free time permits

Yuu: Wow this school really has whole-ass horses on campus? Silver: Silver: As opposed to??? Half-ass horses??? Yuu:

Yuu states only one 'Funny Bitch' can be in a club at a time and Silver clearly holds onto his title well

LIGHT MUSIC CLUB

HI KALIM!

If Yuu had a will for public performing this would be their club! sadly they don't so they didn't join officially.

Yuu still has their music library so they share their world's music with them a lot later on.

Not a member, but will pop in from time to time to do a jam session with them

Lilia gets her a shirt that says 'LMC #1 FAN' on the back as a gift

SPELL DRIVE CLUB

Another sport club that was interesting, but not something they'd do

Only goes to the games if dragged there by the other firsties but is an aggressive fan for Epel

Kepting asking Leona dumb questions because he was trying to sleep DURING TRYOUTS

Yuu likes the concept of Spell Drive, just doesn't have the care to really play or watch it

Has told Epel he should hit someone with his broom though

SCIENCE CLUB

Trey says 'No' with a smile

He's not TRYING to kill Yuu's budding passion for magical sciences, he's TRYING to protect the masses from the bioweapon they're probably gonna make on accident

Rook is so excited, he wants Yuu to join the club so badly

Trey knows Yuu will either make something that will actually kill someone or would drink something they're not supposed to on accident and die.

Yuu was not allowed to join the science club UnU

MOUNTAIN LOVERS CLUB

Honestly, feels so bad for Jade. Dude's clearly got a passion for his hobby and wants to share it with others

But also "Jade are you actually confused why no one wants to join your club and be alone with you in the fucking woods?????"

Not too excited for all the hiking the club seems to be (Interest is peaked at the opportunity to pet a bear though)

Promised Jade if they didn't find a club to join by the end of the day, they'd circle back and join his club

"I'm friends with your brother, you can't make me disappear that easily" "We'll see~"

FILM RESEARCH CLUB

What are you researching????

Honestly, the whole time just asked Vil questions in an attempt to frustrate him and point out how the club was a THEATER CLUB more than a Film Research club

Ends up joining because they ARE a theater club kid and is more than willing to take on the backstage work, that's their favorite part

Does end up being known as having infamously bad movie tastes and ended up traumatizing the whole club via trying to prove a point to Vil by sharing a movie from their world

OFFICIAL MEMBER OF THE FILM RESEARCH CLUB~!

GARGOYLE RESEARCH SOCIETY

Didn't know Malleus even had a club until he told her that night

Malleus didn't know the club fair was that day

Yuu shared their pint of depression ice cream with him while he pouted

Compromised in simply joining him on his walks or letting him info dump about a new gargoyle he found or his favored styles

Yuu will walk around abandoned areas themselves sometimes and take pictures to show Malleus to ask if he knows the gargoyle or not

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #twst wonderland #yuu oc

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captainimfangirling · 4 months

Text

Lisa Frankenstein Review

Really wanted to see this movie because 1) I love the 80s even though I'm not from the 80s, 2) I'm a fan of Kathryn Newton from Supernatural, and 3) love zombie romance (like Warm Bodies).

Overall I thought the movie was ok. I didn't think it was worth going to the theater for (movie tickets cost so much these days plus I take the bus). I think you should wait until it streams and seems like a lot agree because there was only like 5 people in the theater with me and it just came out few days ago.

Cole Spouse's character is my favorite even though he hardly said anything but he was very expressive. I enjoyed the animation in the beginning of the film telling the story of The Creature. It explains why he did what he did.

Warning: Spoilers

The creature knew what it was like falling in love with someone and for that person to not love them back and fall for someone else. When he saw Taffy's car he knew she and Michael were in a relationship and it as going to hurt Lisa like how his past love hurt him. So he took Michael's d*ck because he thought hey I can use this to make Lisa happy when you can't.

Lisa to be was more confusing than the monster. What was the point of having her mother killed by a psycho murderer? Was it to make her desensitized to seeing someone get killed by the creature? It doesn't make sense to me since it only happened once to her. I think it would've been more interesting if she actually did kill her mother and her reaction to seeing people get killed the creature would've made more sense.

One thing I'm disappointed about is that the trailer makes it seem like Lisa was in love with the Creature during the entire movie but really she was in love with Michael. I feel like she started falling for the Creature when she realized how much he loved her. I mean it would've been ok if it didn't feel very sudden.

Also did anyone think the Creature acted too modern? It's not just about him knowing how to drive but he knew about fashion. He's from the Victorian Era, he would've gotten Lisa to put on something that would've covered her ankles not give her black sexy lace outfit.

I hated her step mother but she was right about Lisa being a selfish person. I mean she did go through something traumatic but still she was very self centered. Like when she got mad at Taffy for sleeping with the boy she had a crush on after everything Taffy did for her. I think Taffy would've fought with her mother about putting Lisa in the mental hospital if given the chance. Also Lisa didn't even realize the Creature was in love with her until the very end when she didn't get the man she wanted. She didn't seem to care when the Creature was cried twice (it was the smell of his tears but still). Also she didn't even notice how better looking the creature was getting after he kept getting electrocuted. If she at least said oh you're looking more handsome maybe I can see it has her falling for him.

The last scene was opened ended. I think the Creature killed someone for a tongue so he can speak to Lisa at her grave. She heard him from beyond the grave and decided to come back when lightening stroke her grave (exactly what happened to the Creature in the beginning). So it's his turn to take care of Lisa like she did for him. Another theory is that the Creature became like a mad scientist stealing Lisa's body to electrocute it to bring her back to him. Either way I think they're gonna keep killing and stealing body parts for Lisa because she's the new bride of Frankenstein.

Like I said it's was a fun movie but wait until it's streaming. It actually gave me Totally Killer (from Amazon Video) vibe because that movie was also set in the 80s. Why are new movies set in the 80s? Times are very hard right now (for a while) and people tend to gravitate towards those times when life was simpler and fun. The 80s does look like a lot of fun with all that color and music.

Will it become a cult classic? I have no idea because I don't get why some movies become a cult classic even though they suck.

#lisa frankenstein #cole sprouse #kathryn newton

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monsterrae1 · 1 year

Text

in paper rings, in picture frames (you're the one I want)

[Read on AO3]

Written for the @mayrriedbuddie mini event! As soon as they announced their mini event I had this small cute idea so here it is, something fluffy and silly:

It was a fairly normal Tuesday, Buck had left his loft early in the morning, picked up some things he’d need to make breakfast at Eddie’s and got there before Chris had to leave for school so the kid could have a good breakfast that morning. 10 minutes after Buck had started cooking their eggs, Eddie walked into the kitchen, hair sticking out in random places, and rubbing the sleep off his eyes, Buck thought for a second about wrapping his arms around him and steal the warmth still lingering on his body from the bed.

“Morning” He said instead, and Eddie smiled, walking straight to the already served cup of coffee waiting for him.

“Morning” He replied before taking a long sip of his coffee “Need help?”

“Get the toast?”

Eddie nodded and got to work on the pile of toast they usually destroyed in between the three of them.

By the time Chris woke up, Buck and Eddie had a whole spread of breakfast food ready, scrambled eggs, toast, and cut up fresh fruit, Buck had packed Chris’ lunch and Eddie had checked that he had all this books for the day and his homework packed properly. It used to scare him, when they had mornings like this, where they were all domestic and acted like a family, but after Eddie told him about the will, and after practically moving in for a month after Eddie’s breakdown it just felt like this was where he belonged. No matter how it broke his heart that while he wanted this forever, Eddie might not.

“Alright, the kid has been dropped off” Eddie said when he came back, just as Buck was finishing cleaning up the kitchen.

“Plans for the day?” Buck asked him, knowing that it was their day off and they’d be spending it together.

“It’s cleaning day” Eddie said with a sigh, making Buck laugh. Eddie wasn’t the biggest fan of cleaning day, they usually alternated their deep cleaning days so they could tackle Eddie’s house and Buck’s loft on different weeks, but they always helped the other out, making the load of it easier.

As usual it didn’t take them long, and since Christopher was spending the afternoon at a friends’ house, they found themselves with a free afternoon and not knowing what to do with it.

“We could watch a movie” Buck said after a while.

“Sure, what do you feel like?” Eddie answered going for the remote control, but Buck shook his head.

“No, I meant, let’s go out, I think the movie theater downtown is open right now”

After some consideration, Eddie finally agreed and they both pilled into Buck’s jeep. The drive was kept busy with talks about Chris’ upcoming school projects and this science fair, as well as all the things they need to get from the grocery store for both their places, making the time go faster.

The only downside of last-minute plans was that their options for a movie playing at that time were limited, the choices were between what looked like a bad horror film and silly rom com, and since neither one of them felt like watching horror that day, they went with the rom com; Eddie getting their tickets while Buck went to get their snacks.

The movie wasn’t bad, really, it was just a tiny bit cringe like some rom coms tended to be, but Buck found himself enjoying it a lot, it was about two best friends whose life was pretty much completely intertwined, they acted like a team and all their friends teased them because where one went the other was bound to follow.

Buck was trying hard to not think about how him and Eddie were exactly like that.

It wasn’t until almost half the movie in that the characters seemed to realize that they had been dating this entire time, and Buck couldn’t help but feel like if he told any stranger about his relationship with Eddie, they too would assume that they were together, but they weren’t, they were just best friends, some best friends were just like that. Weren’t they?

20 minutes later the lead was professing his undying love for his best friend and Buck heard a gasp coming from his companion, turning his head slowly to look at Eddie just as Eddie took Buck’s hand on his and squeezed it tight. Eddie was already looking at Buck with a shy smile on his face.

“That’s us” Eddie said softly, they were practically alone in the room, but Eddie’s tone felt soft for them, to keep the moment between them, not to avoid bothering other people.

“Of course, that’s us” Buck agreed right away; yeah, they are like that all the time and he was in love with Eddie, he had been for a long time, and the shine on Eddie’s eyes finally let Buck believe that maybe they could do this, maybe he could have him.

Eddie laughed, bringing Buck’s hand up to kiss it, Buck tangled their fingers together and squeezed Eddie’s hand “Should I call you my boyfriend now, then?”

“I think at this point I should just ask you to marry me” Buck said jokingly, they were already raising a kid together, they had already been through hell together, calling Eddie his boyfriend seemed to juvenile.

“Yes” Eddie said right away, without a drop of doubt.

Buck’s eyes widen in shock “Eddie” He whispered, unable to avoid the huge grin taking over his face “Really? Just like that?”

“We’ve done this thing in the wrong order already, I think I’m ready to call you my husband” Eddie answered with a soft smile on this face, Buck smiled back, how could he not? When he has just gone from friend to fiancé of his best friend and love of his life.

“Wait” Buck said suddenly, letting go of Eddie’s hand and patting himself down, trying to find anything to use as a makeshift ring for Eddie, anything to seal this deal.

He groaned, not finding anything he could use, until his finger graced the discarded paper wrapper from their straws “Yes” he whispered and took them, starting to twist them into a circular shape, Eddie started to laugh, catching up to what Buck was doing. “Shh, they’re gonna kick us out”

Eddie laughed even louder and Buck couldn’t help but to join in; they were just so happy, and they hadn’t even kissed yet, Buck couldn’t wait to kiss him.

“Can I be fiancé for a while?” Buck asked when he finally had the ring ready, Eddie smiled with tears on his eyes and simply gave Buck his hand.

“Yeah, yeah I’d like that”

Buck pushed the ring into Eddie’s finger, adjusting it a little to fit perfectly, and then turned to look at Eddie, he was looking down at the ring with a huge smile on his face “Can I kiss you?” Buck whispered, causing Eddie’s head to snap up to meet his.

“You better”

Buck placed one of his hands on Eddie’s chin to guide him to a better angle and finally joined their lips in their first kiss, soft, sweet, unrushed, just like their relationship had been.

Then they made out like teenagers in the back road of the empty movie theater, and in the hallway on their way out, and in the back seat of the jeep too.

It wasn’t until a couple of hours later when they came down from their high, they were walking around the mall, hand in hand, when the sweat from their joined fingers started to tear the ring apart.

“Wait” Eddie said, taking it off and putting it safely on his pocket “I think we’re gonna have to look for a more lasting alternative”

“We can’t wear rings at work” Buck said, feeling sad about not being able to see the ring on Eddie’s finger all the time, a proof that they had shifted their relationship, a proof that Eddie was his to keep.

Eddie hummed “We can wear watches” Buck looked him confused, Eddie laughed and stopped walking to press a kiss on Buck’s lips “My grandma used to say that back in her town, in Mexico, when a couple got engaged, after the girl got the ring, it was tradition that she got her fiancé a watch; so, I thought, well, we aren’t girls, but we can get the other a watch? One we can wear to work all the time, and then maybe later we’ll figure out the ring situation”

Buck kissed him “Let’s go watch shopping”

They spend the rest of the afternoon looking for watches, finally finding a pair that seemed fitting, and got them engraved with the date, Buck fastening Eddie’s into his writs, and Eddie doing the same with Buck’s.

Buck spent that night at the Diaz house, moving in just a week later.

Six months later he stopped being a fiancé, and became a husband.

#buddie #buddie ficlet #mayrried buddie proposals

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citrivenus · 3 months

Text

Written Dreams and Photographed Memories

Chapter 1 — Small Town Shenanigans

song inspo: Jesus, Etc. — Wilco Mama’s Boy — Dominic Fike Chandelier — Will Paquin Harness Your Hopes – B-Side — Pavement

--------------------------------

ENTRY 1 — Mar. 14 20xx

sometime around December, my friends and i decided to try making a scrapbook of sorts. polaroid photos, goofy little notes, drawings, stickers, etc. we even planned to take trips to different places to take pictures and make memories. So when January came around, we bought everything we needed. Juno bought the sketchbook, while Teagan had a short list of things we could visit. Most, if not all, were out of state. No one would blame her for the ideas; our city can only entertain for so long. She’s always been the extroverted and adventurous type. And I bought the Polaroid camera and the film.

After telling Carson about the scrapbook, she suggested I keep a journal, too. She said it would be a healthy outlet for my emotions and thoughts, so I figured I’d entertain her suggestion, at least for a while. Maybe it won’t be so bad. It helps me get out the things I can’t tell others without possibly getting locked up in a psych ward.

After having a routine down, you’d think life would be easier to manage. Sure, it’s boring, but consistency is better than unexpectancy.

Routines are easy to form most of the time. Ironically enough, they’re also easy to disassemble. A routine has kept me sane in this town. While it’s not a horrible town, you get tired of it eventually. A small town on the East Coast isn’t always excitable. It has its moments, though.

The most exciting thing you can get is from the movie theater on 12th Street or the mall down on Junesburro Lane.

There’s not much, but it's home, I guess. There’s nothing extravagant about this town, which is nice. It won’t disrupt my routine.

While i enjoy my routine, i’d like to leave this town. Maybe explore the states? Or just settle somewhere else. The only problem is that my family is here, and i’d hate to leave them behind. i know that once i go, i likely won’t come back.

— end of entry —

— — — — — —

Crunching footfalls trudged down the road with the occasional car passing by the young adult—who was flicking through his phone, looking for music to listen to through his earbuds and an army green satchel slung over his shoulder.

Cars passed, blowing his hair in front of his face, which he moved back with his hand. He’d be driving to work if his car wasn’t in a mechanic’s shop. Not only would it be faster, but it’d be safer, too. Not like this town is dangerous; the most danger anyone could get into would be from human error… Thinking about it, that can be dangerous.

Reaching the intersection, he quickly glanced at each side of the road. Cars drove down the road, and he waited for an opening before gunning it to the other side. He adjusted his satchel on his shoulder and the hood of his jacket as he walked along the paved sidewalk that soon became a dirt and dead grass trail. ‘Why are the sidewalks never consistent in this town?’ He thought, grunting as he jogged down the man-made sidewalk and through a parking lot to the convenience store. He jumps up the curb and to the store’s entrance, grasping the door handle, opening the door, and slipping inside the shitty convenience store. The little bell above the door chimed as the door opened and shut, his Docs Marten’s quietly thumping against the grubby tile floor. The cashier at the counter gave him a tired greeting.

“Hey, Mikey, how ya’ doin’? You on yer way to work?”

“Hey, Marcus. I've been doin’ okay. I figured I’d come up and grab some snacks and bug you.”

Marcus let out a chuckle and replied something that the young adult didn’t hear. Mike walked down the aisles, grabbing snacks before going to the fridges. He looked around for Monster Energy drinks, grabbing four different flavors.

With his arms full of his goods, he awkwardly approached the counter, where Marcus stood behind it.

The young adult on the other side of the counter—was waiting for Marcus to finish ringing up his items while his eyes wandered behind the counter. “...You think you could snag me a pack o’ Marlboro Reds?” Mike mumbled as he dug out his wallet from his hoodie pocket. Marcus snorted, causing Mike to look up at him.

“Fat chance… $28.19 is yer total, kid.”

Mike scoffs, rolling his eyes and pulling out his money—a 10, three 5s, three 1s, and some change. He sat it on the counter and slid it to the cashier. Marcus took the money off the counter. “I’m 20. ‘M no kid…” “Sure… Says the one who asked me to sell cigarettes to them illegally.” Mike huffed, pocketing his wallet and reaching for the bag’s handles. Marcus retrieved a pack of Marlboro Reds from the shelves before swiftly turning back to the register and deftly pressing the keys.

"...'Fore you go, ya need'ta pony up 'nother $13," he announced.

Michael glanced at him, silently questioning the demand. Marcus leaned closer with a smirk.

"Ya want yer cigarettes or not, kid?"

Michael grinned, retrieved his wallet, gathered the remaining cash, and handed it over to Marcus, who chuckled as he accepted the money.

Fortunately, it covered the cost of the cigarettes. Marcus tossed the pack and receipt into Michael’s bag with the rest of his snacks and drinks before he snagged the bag off the counter and let it hang by his side. “Now don’t go tellin’ nobody, ‘kay? I’on’t need the owner or bears on my ass now.” Michael nodded, mumbling an ‘okay’ and turned on his heel to leave, checking his watch. 1:45. He had fifteen minutes to get to work before getting another write-up for being late. Again.

He opens his satchel, shoving his snacks and drinks inside wherever they’d fit before closing it back up. He jumped off the curb and jogged down the street to work.

#marble hornets #creepypasta #slenderverse #formatting on here is NOT my specialty--#masky marble hornets #tim wright #brian thomas #hoodie marble hornets #slenderman

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its-a-hil · 8 months

Note

ok. random question. literally from the random question generator at randomwordgenerator dot cahm: What's your go-to funny story now, but was horrendous at that moment?

(i think it gave me a question i already know but eh shoot)

hm.

alright i think this is actually more of the reverse than the forward direction, but sure

when i was in middle school, i was such a horrible procrastinator (note: i am still one of those) that i often wrote rough drafts of essays during lunch

(the one year in middle school i didnt do this was when i had english 1st period. tbh i wish my schedule had worked out like that all 3 years, but alas)

but i got so comfortable just throwing out words with a pencil that i kept doing it and now i almost never edit anything bc i need to write it all in one go or it's wrong

but final drafts still had to be typed & printed, so it was only my rough drafts that were like this

fast forward to high school, and rough drafts became less of a thing

my compulsion to procrastinate did not.

oh also relevant here is that i was emotionally incapable of asking for an extension or submitting online after class or anything

so.

senior year of high school. we had an essay to write on Twelfth Night, where we had to pick a word that was repeated a few times and discuss its effect on the story

i picked 'fancy' and used it to argue the absolute bullshit point that it meant the whole thing was a dream, because i had no other ideas and my brain refused to set aside time to do something more reasonable

except.

i did not begin writing until lunch of that day.

i did not have access to the computer lab i had planned to write the essay in.

i pleaded with a friend to lend me his laptop, on which i did the most frantic writing of my life. i dont remember if i ate any food during that lunch period.

(according to my diary i also said something shitty to that friend even as he was doing me a massive favor, which. god.)

looking at the document now (ty google drive), it seems that i didnt actually finish the essay, just wrote notes on the different uses of the word

im not sure if it was just a rough draft or notes kind of thing that was due, or if i lucked out and the essay was extended or something? unclear

but what is clear is that i wrote 440 words in just over an hour, and that's not counting the quotes i had to transcribe (which also made up over 400 words)

the following night i turned it into an actual 750ish word essay in also about an hour, bc. yeah. (i still didn't write an intro until i printed it out during study hall the next day lmao)

so anyway the essay was shit, the teacher was genuinely confused and pulled me aside after the class where she handed the essays back

note: she was also the theater teacher & that semester i was doing the play afterschool, and i think she knew i was better than what i handed in

in my defense i was fairly depressed that couple of months, partially due to an responsibility that i did not realize i could easily say no to. the only consequence that refusing that responsibility would have had is that i would have hated myself less and possibly liked engineering more

oh also looking at my diary apparently that was also the week that i taught precalc bc the teacher's partner was suddenly out for paternity leave and i had an essentially free period during the precalc class

so yeah that's probably the third most interesting week of my senior after the week that we had the play performances and the week i was out in the hospital when my lungs spontaneously collapsed

the funniest part of that story is that it took me another 3ish years to realize that i wanted to be a teacher, and another 2 years after that to act on that desire. lmao

anyway bc im sure you freaks want to see it, im putting the essay under the cut

Actual essay:

Twelfth Night is one of Shakespeare’s most fantastical plays. Even without the use of magic, the supposedly realistic events are completely improbable. There is evidence that the play was intended to be a fantasy, and throughout the play, the word “fancy” is used to suggest to the audience that the events of the play are little more than a fanciful construction of Orsino’s mind.

Orsino speaks four of the six instances of “fancy” or “fantasy.” Two of these instances come in his first monologue, right at the beginning of the play. He claims that “so full of shapes is fancy that it alone is high fantastical” (1.1.14-15). As Adams says, in this passage Orsino claims “that his own imagination is so fertile that it is supremely capricious and whimsical.” (Adams 58). It is odd that the play would start with this double mention of fancy, especially when the word is not mentioned again until the end of Act two. It is even stranger that the plot concludes with Orsino making Viola/Cesario his “fancy’s queen” (5.1.415). Although Feste finishes the play with his final song, this line is the last spoken by any other character, and is a natural conclusion to the play nonetheless. There must be a reason why the play both begins and ends with a word only used six times throughout. This is the most direct clue that the play does not merely describe events in Shakespeare’s mind, but instead describes events in Orsino’s mind.

More clues can be found by examining the other uses of fancy in the play. Sebastian remarks “Let fancy still my sense in Lethe steep” after encountering a smitten, and unfamiliar Olivia (4.1.65). This line comes in one of the more fantastical scenes in the play, where Sebastian enters Illyria and is mistaken by everyone for Cesario. Sebastian can only conclude “this is a dream,” and calls upon fancy - imagination - to keep him from waking up. Sebastian addresses fancy as a powerful being, that has the ability to manipulate the world he sees. If the play does take place in Orsino’s imagination, fancy would have this power. Another thing to note about Sebastian’s mention of fancy is that it is in reference to Olivia. Her love for him, and reproach of the men who were dueling him, is the only reason he would want to continue living in this dream.

Olivia is a common subject of fancy, as used in its alternate definition of love. Malvolio, just before seeing Maria’s letter, thinks aloud that “should [Olivia] fancy, it should be one of my complexion” (2.5.24-25). Almost all references to fancy are directly related to Olivia. In fact, every major male character, except her uncle, is in love with Olivia. It is difficult for Orsino to conceive of a character who is not enamored when in the presence of the beautiful lady Olivia. To him, when Olivia enters, “heaven walks on earth” (5.1.99).

Regarding the rest of Malvolio’s scene, it is no less strange than Sebastian’s. The dour puritan begins with a statement of love for his lady, and then follows the insane directions of a letter that apparently describes her love for him, while the pranksters hide and watch in a nearby bush. Orsino’s mentions of “fancy” also take place in strange scenes. Without touching on the chaotic mess that is 5.1, 1.1 regards a Duke, who has been laid low grieving over his unrequited love for Olivia. She, in turn, decides not to admit any suitors until she has spent seven entire years mourning her dead brother. This scene feels almost surreal, setting the stage for the play that is to follow. Since almost every instance of the word fancy comes during a surreal scene, it can be inferred that the word is an indicator - a message to the audience that this play is a fantasy in the mind of Orsino.

There is one more use of “fancy,” however. During the argument between Orsino and Viola, Orsino speaks of men’s fancies as “more longing, wavering… than women’s are” (2.4.41-42). Twelfth Night is certainly long, spanning three months in Illyria, and the play constantly wavers from uplifting to demeaning, from reasonable to insane. The play as a whole fits so well with Orsino’s description of his “fancies” that one must wonder why that particular description was used. Interpreting Twelfth Night as a fancy conjured up by Orsino’s stricken mind makes a good deal more sense than attempting to reconcile the events with the real world.

Work Cited:Adams, B. (1978). Orsino and the Spirit of Love: Text, Syntax, and Sense In Twelfth Night, I. i. 1-15. Shakespeare Quarterly,29(1), 52-59. doi:10.2307/2869169

The notes i wrote during the lunch period:

The first appearance of the word comes during Orsino’s monologue. The grief-stricken man describes his lovesickness by referring to his imagining of fantasies involving Olivia. Fancy is “full of shapes” to hear him tell it, filled with all kinds of images (1.1.14). This implies an interesting idea of the plot; it may be nothing more than a lovesick dream conjured by Orsino’s mind. After all, the plot is as “high fantastical” as something a distressed lover might imagine. (1.1.15).

Malvolio’s mention of fancy is also about love and imagining it. He talks about “her [Olivia’s] fancy,” but the context of the scene and the rest of his dialogue imply that he is the one who fancies Olivia (2.5.24).. Malvolio claims that Olivia has said she would fancy “one of my complexion,” indicating that Malvolio has, through confirmation bias and imagination, convinced himself that Olivia was in love with him even before reading Maria’s letter (2.5.25). The fact that Malvolio, the outwardly stalwart Puritan, is as fanciful and in love as Orsino is a strong device for making fun of the Puritans as Shakespeare was wont to do.

Sebastian has his reference to fancy when he meets Olivia and finds that he is the object of her fancy.

[Discussing of the other two quotes]

In Twelfth Night, characters mention fancy when in fantastical scenes. Orsino had neglected his duties as a Duke to be lovesick over Olivia, Malvolio convinced himself that Olivia was in love with him moments before happening upon a letter regarding Olivia’s love, Sebastian came to a foreign city and found that a woman he had never seen was madly in love with him, and the final scene is perhaps the most fanciful of them all. Everything comes together in a hilarious, satisfying, and utterly unrealistic way. The use of the word fancy indicates that a scene either was or will be fanciful. This implies that Shakespeare is breaking the fourth wall, drawing attention to works of the imagination when the audience may be considering the play as imagination. In that way, Shakespeare implies that this comedy, however nice it may seem, is just a lovesick fantasy in the mind of Duke Orsino.

Note also that almost every mention of the word is in reference to Olivia. The only exception is when Orsino calls Viola his “fancy’s queen,” but Orsino could just be (Inception-style) trying to prove to himself that he can love another. That is why the timeline does not make sense; Orsino needed to believe that his mind was not so changeable, that he would need three months with another woman to move past his love for Olivia.

Quotes:

1.1.14-15:

Orsino: “So full of shapes is fancy

That it alone is high fantastical.”

Context: These lines conclude Orsino’s opening monologue about his lovesickness and passion for Olivia. The monologue is discordant throughout, and this line sounds very arrogant, that nobody but a lover could have an extreme imagination.

This quote illustrates Orsino’s arrogance about his position (which is expanded upon in his later argument with Viola) and tells the audience that Orsino has spent some time cooped up in his mansion thinking of Olivia.

2.5.23-25

Malvolio: “I have heard herself come

thus near, that, should she fancy, it should be one

of my complexion.“

Context: This comes just before Malvolio finds Maria’s letter, when he is fancying that Olivia might be in love with him. He has almost convinced himself of her love even before he sees Maria’s letter, which would be a strange coincidence if Twelfth Night was not a comedy.

This quote describes Malvolio’s desperation to be loved by Olivia. He uses a few choice words and actions of Olivia as a justification for her love, indicating confirmation bias and lack of perspective.

4.1.63-66

Sebastian: “What relish is in this? how runs the stream?

Or I am mad, or else this is a dream:

Let fancy still my sense in Lethe steep;

If it be thus to dream, still let me sleep!”

Context: This comes just after Sebastian enters Illyria and finds a beautiful woman suddenly wish to marry him. It is so illogical that he believes he must be dreaming, and he wishes for fancy to keep him from waking up.

This quote tells us that Sebastian is wondrous at his entrance to Illyria. He forgets about Antonio as soon as strange men wish to duel and a strange beautiful woman claims to be in love with him. Sebastian is far more relaxed than most people would be in this context, especially if they could not find Antonio, the only person he was close with for the past three months.

5.1.412-415

Orsino: “Cesario, come;

For so you shall be, while you are a man;

But when in other habits you are seen,

Orsino's mistress and his fancy's queen.”

Context: This is the last line spoken by any character except Feste. It comes after Orsino learns of Viola’s true identity and gives up his love for Olivia.

This quote implies that Orsino still thinks of Viola as Cesario, at least while she is in men’s clothing.

#lifeblogging #sorry for it being so long #but i also fact-checked myself on a lot of details thanks to having the edit history and thanks to writing everything in my diary #so ty past sahil dont know what we'd do without your need to write for us

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pizza-is-my-buziness · 2 years

Note

Have another prompt. Kiana once mentioned she thinks of Sam and Deena doing cute things like going to the drive-in and Olivia says she sees them being like demon slayers (lol). Maybe a cute discussion with Sam and Deena joking about being monster hunters/demon slayers while watching something at the drive-in. Sorry, I just rewatched their Strand Book Store video and it got me thinking :)

The words "have another prompt" just might be my favorite in the world so thanks for that.

Also this prompt is truly epic and I love every single word of this message. I still haven't watched this interview but I am definitely going to and I love the answers Kiana and Olivia gave because after having met and spent time with them, it checks out completely. So thanks, anon, for bringing back all the fond memories of Olivia' chaotic energy.

Also this prompt gave me a chance to include another little Olivia tidbit that she shared at the panel I was at, so that was an added bonus. IYKYK.

Through the speaker clipped to the car door, the dinosaur’s roar sounds tinny and pitched, far from the ferocity that Spielberg had likely imagined when bringing his vision to life, but the kids on the screen seem appropriately frightened anyway and so Deena tries not to be too critical. It would be difficult to compete with that irreproachable first time anyway, when she’d sat in the theater with Simon on one side of her Sam on the other and the pounding in her heart had had nothing to do with the T-rex on the screen.

As though spurred by the thoughts running through Deena’s mind, Sam says, “Remember when we went to see this when it came out?” her head still pillowed against Deena’s shoulder.

Where it had most definitely not been that first time, in the theater back in Shadyside when the summer that had stretched out with seemingly endless monotony had suddenly seemed painfully bright with possibility when she’d found herself sitting next to Sam in the darkened theater and let herself wonder for the first time. Her thoughts had been so scattered, so focused on the inches of space between her knee and Sam’s and the way she’d sat rigid in her chair for two and half hours because she’d been too afraid to let her elbow brush Sam’s accidentally that when Sam had asked what her favorite part of the movie had been, she’d only been able to blurt out, “The dinosaurs” because she was at least sure that was something that she knew for a fact had actually happened on the screen.

Though, to be fair, the dinosaurs are pretty great.

“Yeah,” Deena says, trying to reach for another handful of popcorn without dislodging Sam from her position tucked against her side. “Of course.”

Sam moves anyway, passing over the popcorn bucket and brushing her hair over her shoulders. “You know, I used to use the ticket stub as a bookmark. For like…months.” She shrugs. “Because every time I opened the book I thought about you.”

Even years later, even after years with Sam, statements like this still manage to find their mark directly against Deena’s heart, making it race in the way a tyrannosaurus could never hope to. “You’re such a cheeseball,” she tells Sam, as though she hadn’t kept her own ticket stub tucked into the drawer of her nightstand, proof that, for one night at least, she sat next to Samantha Fraser in a movie theater and let herself imagine it was the type of thing she would get to do forever. “It’s kind of embarrassing actually.”

“Oh really?” Sam smirks, raising her eyebrows. “Weren’t you the one who wanted to come to this tonight because it was like our first date?”

Deena clears her throat, studying the popcorn bucket in her lap with a determined focus. “I don’t think I said first date…”

“Well, you thought it,” Sam says, which is infuriatingly true and something she is infuriatingly good at most of the time. “Which I guess it kind of was.”

“You think so?” Deena tilts her head, thinking over the idea. “I don’t think our actual first date was that bad.”

How could anything involving the words “date” and “Sam” in the same sentence and context be bad? It’s still a philosophy that Deena holds pretty near and dear to her heart.

Sam reaches over to take a handful of popcorn. “Even though you kept stalling out whenever we tried to drive somewhere?”

“I was nervous!” Deena protests, picking up the popcorn bucket and holding it out reach, using her shoulder to try and block Sam from reaching to grab it back. “I kept thinking about what I was going to do if you tried to kiss me.”

Sam smirks, lifting her eyebrows. “If I tried to kiss you? I don’t remember it like that…”

“No, it totally was,” Deena says with a grin and this time she surrenders the popcorn bucket when Sam leans into her to get close enough to grab it, though Sam doesn’t make an effort to slip out of Deena’s space once she’s got it. “I remember it like it was yesterday.”

“Oh? You’ll have to refresh my memory then.”

Deena can’t resist the shiver the trails down her spine, can’t ignore the press of Sam’s knee against her thigh, and she lets her gaze drop toward Sam’s lips before returning to her eyes. “It was a lot like this actually.”

Only then they had been in the front seat of Deena’s car rather than sitting in the back like they are now, and Deena had been nervous enough that she’d slammed her knee into the gear shift and Sam had started laughing and the sound of it had flooded Deena with a startling calm and a crackling need that had suddenly made it easy to lean closer and press their lips together.

That feeling of need, of anticipation, is still there even now, even though Deena has long since lost track of how often she’s been able to pull Sam to her and kiss her. Their lips meet and Sam’s closeness, the subtle saltiness of her lips and the feeling of her skin beneath Deena’s palm, are more than enough to distract from the movie still playing out on the screen in front of them, the sounds of rustling and chirping coming through the box speaker fading to the back of her mind.

Unfortunately, it seems that Sam is not so easily distracted.

The sensation of her lips quickly becomes nothing more than a memory as Sam pulls away suddenly and Deena opens her eyes, brow furrowing. Sam’s attention has shifted, something Deena tries not to take personally. “I love this part,” Sam says as though once again sensing the direction of Deena’s thoughts.

On the screen, the guy from that sitcom her father had always loved -much to Deena’s confusion and annoyance- is attempting to throw a stick for a dinosaur rather than getting the hell away from the dinosaur which is most definitely what Deena thinks she would be doing in his situation. And she feels like facing down a group of undead murderers has given her the right to be a little bit judgmental of people’s life choices.

The dinosaur quickly turns ferocious and murder-y and Deena glances at Sam out of the corner of her eye. “I worry about you sometimes.”

“Oh come on,” Sam says, bumping their shoulders together. “That’s cool. Look at its…fan thing.”

Deena laughs, shaking her head. “Yeah, I think ‘fan thing’ is definitely the scientific term.”

“Thought so,” Sam says, settling herself against the back of the seat.

There may be a smile on her face while the dinosaur eats the guy, but Deena loves her nonetheless.

It doesn’t take long before the popcorn bucket has been relegated to its spot on the floorboards once more and Sam has her head on Deena’s shoulder again, her fingers brushing absently against the curve of Deena’s wrist and skimming over the hills and valleys of her knuckles. Deena is certain she could be anywhere in the world in this moment and be perfectly happy as long as she has Sam’s head on her shoulder and the gentle brush of the tips of Sam’s fingers against her skin. The steady feeling of contentment settles itself across her shoulders the way it does so frequently now and the idea that flits across her mind -I could do this forever- doesn’t terrify her the way it used to.

Somewhere around the time Dr. Sattler unwisely declares the park to be back in business, Sam finally lifts her head and says, “Have you thought any more about what your advisor said? About narrowing down your major?”

Deena sighs, just barely managing to stifle a groan, though she’s sure that Sam knows her well enough to imagine it anyway. “I thought we weren’t going to talk about school or the future this weekend,” she points out, giving Sam a pointed look. “Or are we also going to talk about what you’re going to do next semester.”

It’s not like the prospect of actually becoming a college graduate and doing something with her life outside of toiling away in Shadyside for the rest of her life has lost its appeal, but there are a few times where Deena thinks it would be easier just to bury her face in her pillow and not get out of bed for a week or two.

Being eaten by a dinosaur might be more pleasant than trying to narrow down what she actually wants to do with the rest of her life.

“Oh, I know what I’m going to do,” Sam assures her.

Deena lifts her eyebrows because this is definitely news to her. She’s become well acquainted with coming home from classes to find Sam sitting in the empty bathtub -her favorite spot in the apartment to work through whatever might be weighing on her mind at the moment. In fact, Deena had found her there just yesterday, which had partially inspired the suggestion that they needed to get out of the apartment and do something other than figure out how they were going to spend their last year of college and, apparently, the rest of their lives.

“Really?” Deena asks, and she can’t tell if its skepticism or envy coloring her tone.

Sam shrugs. “I think we should just become monster hunters. I mean, we already know that we’re pretty good at it. Well, you’re pretty good at it.”

The casualness with which Sam makes this statement makes Deena laugh before she can control the impulse and her reaction gets a grin out of Sam, though she still tries to feign sincerity. “What? It works for Buffy.”

“Demon hunting,” Deena repeats, once she’s managed to swallow down enough for her laughter to form actual words. “I…didn’t know that was an option.”

“For us? Definitely.”

“In that case why are we even going to college?” Deena asks. “Hell, let’s just start right now. There has to be a demon around here that needs killing.”

“Or a curse that needs breaking.”

Deena grins, shaking her head, and pulling Sam closer. “Yeah, I think that only happens when I’m feeling particularly motivated.”

Sam smiles, her nose brushing against Deena’s before she kisses her, and this time not even the tinny roar of the T-rex is enough to distract them.

#sameena #fear street #sam/deena #prompts!#sam fraser #deena johnson #also dinosaurs #three things I love

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tumbleassbitch · 2 years

Text

another lost soul (letting my instinct take control) | The Quarry | TravisxLaura

Characters: Laura Kearney, Travis Hackett, The Hackett family Word count: 2,573 Summary: Max dies in the cellar. This changes everything. Chapter 1/?

June 25th, 2022

It was the same argument they’d been having for months.

“Look, after you’re done with college, maybe we can move further upstate. Or Maine?”

“I thought we’ve already talked about this,” Laura said exasperatedly. “You know I’ve wanted to move to the West Coast my whole life. ”

The dark road flickered past in broken fragments of moonlight and the dim light of Max’s headlights. This stretch of the pavement wasn’t as well kept as the rest of the drive, and the bumpy ride acted like a sifter against her flagging confidence.

So much for getting to camp tonight.

“Well, yeah, but we could always move for just a shorter gap?” Max suggested. “I mean, it would be nice to get out of the house, get our own place.”

She felt his eyes on her. The frustration that had been building up bled away, making the pit of dread in her chest all the more obvious.

Things hadn’t been going… great lately. Something had come between them over this last semester, and though the promise of summer had kept her head above water, it was obviously a mirage rather than the safe harbor she’d hoped.

Hackett’s Quarry was looking like their best shot. Some summer camp in the middle of bumfuck nowhere didn’t sound like the most romantic place to be, no. But it would provide them a chance to reconnect beyond the quick trips on weekends and school holidays.

It would give her a chance to make up her mind.

“I really don’t want to spend the extra cash for a downpayment and safety deposit on a place that we won’t stay for more than a year,” she said.

“More than a year? ” He asked incredulously, raising a brow.

“Um, yeah?”

“And then, what?”

For fuck’s sake.

“Then literally anywhere but here,” she said irritatedly.

“I just- I just don’t understand why you don’t want to stay in New York!”

Laura bit back the urge to scream.

“Honestly, Max? If you have to ask, then I don’t think you really know me at all.”

The car fell with a tense silence that she almost regretted being the cause of . Almost.

Max’s free hand, the one that used to rest on her thigh when they drove to ice cream dates and the theater near their old high school, now fumbled awkwardly in his lap. For a moment, it looked like he was going to reach out, but thought better of it.

“I just didn’t realize you wanted to get out of here so soon after graduating.”

“Well, that’s just one scenario, right?” she said softly, casting a glance over. “Once you hear back from St. Lawrence, we’ll have a better idea of what the future holds.”

Shadows flitted across his face like a flock of birds. He fell unusually silent, and the only sound between them was the light pattering of his freckled fingertips against the steering wheel.

The sudden break was a good opportunity to get a better focus on the map. Which…

“Max,” Laura started.

His voice cracked with a dryness that hadn’t been present before. “What?”

“We’re totally lost.”

---

June ?, 2022

Terror.

It drips through her veins like molasses, sickly sweet and heavy against the utter confusion and displacement beating in her chest.

Laura tries to move, to no avail. Everything is weighed down by an unnatural gravity. Her hands don’t feel like her own.

Actually, shit. She can’t even feel her hands.

A groan tries to tumble its way out, but she chokes out a rasp instead. Fuck, that hurt.

Where is she? Did she hit her head in the cellar…?

Where’s Max?

It takes everything within her, but she opens her eyes—

—and comes face to face with a pair of scuffed black shoes.

The sound of a radio crackles above. “T. Are you still on the Loop?”

“No, I had to check on something at the station,” a familiar voice replies. “I’m heading back out right now. Over.”

He begins to walk away, and a renewed sense of desperation brings newfound awareness to her bones.

“M..ax,” she tries. Something’s very wrong.

The footsteps pause.

“Where's Max?” she adds roughly.

No response. Whoever it was continues on, and the sound of their heavy footfall quickly drifts away with the finality of a slammed door.

...

The next time she wakes, it is with an acrid taste in her throat and a deep, unsettling realization: she’s in a cell.

That much is certain-- the pale light of morning calls into contrast the metal of her cage. Cold, unforgiving ground bites into her cheek. Beneath the lingering touch of whatever caused her to pass out, her body aches in a steady, dull thrum.

"Shit," she groans.

“Morning, ma’am.”

She freezes. Ma’am. No fucking way.

Laura pushes herself up on unsteady hands, peering up at a face she thought she’d never see again.

“...Officer?”

He's set up camp on a chair in front of her cell, looking right at home in the gloom. Even in daylight, the shadows cling to him.

This is the creepy cop that got them back on the road again last night, the one who insisted on wiping her dirty face with a handkerchief, the one who…

Who what? The space behind her eyes throbs.

“Sir, is Max alright? The man you saw me with last night?”

The sheriff sneers back. “Shut up.”

“ Please, I need to know-”

The keys jingle at his side when he leans forward, “Shut. Up. Do you understand where you are?”

Oh, fuck you.

“On a disgusting floor?” she asks sweetly.

“In police custody,” he continues on with an air of long-suffering. “Meaning, you’re not the one asking questions, here.”

The chill of fear settles in her chest. This is not the time to have an attitude, chastises a voice that sounds like her mother. This wasn’t the time nor place to suddenly lose a brain cell and start a fight with a cop.

Especially one that's locked her up.

“I’m sorry, sir,” she replies, pushing for an edge of genuinity.

He assesses her for a moment, and whatever he finds, she only hopes it’s in her favor.

Finally, “Name.”

She pauses. “Laura Kearney.”

“Really?” he asks, brow cocked.

“Um, yes?”

“That’s not what your damn license says.”

“I go by my mother’s maiden name.”

His eyes are impossibly dark. Laura does not flinch. She refuses to.

“Did I ask for your mother’s maiden name?"

Okay, fair. ”My legal name is Brandt.”

“Why did you use Kearney, then?”

“My father is a murderer,” Laura says evenly.

He narrows his eyes at her, marking something in the notepad in his lap.

There’s no point in hiding it. Anyone and everyone around Oneida county, hell, the whole fucking state would recognize the name if they paid any attention to the news. Maybe they wouldn’t remember why they’ve heard it before, but, well. That’s what the internet is for.

And he’s a fucking cop. If he didn’t know it before, he sure would’ve figured it out sooner rather than later.

“What’s the name of your traveling companion?”

There doesn’t seem to be any point to asking for basic questions if he’s already checked through their bags, but whatever. “Max Brinly. Look, can I just know if he’s alright?”

He ignores her. “Why were you out at Hackett’s Quarry last night?”

“We’re camp counselors, like we said.”

“Oh, bullshit,” he says with blatant impatience. “Counselors aren’t due until today.”

“We know! We figured we’d just… show up early, go to camp.”

“And why didn’t you go to the Harbinger’s Motel like I told you to?”

“Because we’re fucking broke!” Laura snapped. The permanent glower on his face deepened, and she quickly backtracked. “No, look, I’m sorry. I’m just, really freaking out here because I can’t remember anything after we showed up at camp. Please… I need to know that Max is okay .”

By this point, her head is throbbing and she winces, digging her palms into her temple. The wooden chair creaks as the officer shifts in his seat. The silence between them grows.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” he asks with a different edge to his voice.

‘Are you sure you called?’

‘Yeah…. Well, I left a voicemail.’

“The… camp was dark. Everything was locked down." She ignores the muttered, “No shit,” and digs past the dread beginning to pool in the back of her mind.

“So you broke in?” he asks, brow raised.

That’s right, the cellar.

‘Max, there's someone down here!’

"Oh my god…" Laura trails off breathlessly. "Oh my god, someone was trapped."

He stiffens, leaning in closer.

“Someone…?"

They got the cellar doors open. She’s always took no small amount of pride in being self-sufficient. That's why she went downstairs first.

“You saw someone, ma’am?” he presses over her racing thoughts.

There wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, if she ignored that it was the second time that night that she clearly hallucinated a person. Nobody was there. Just a creepy old storage room, and a bloody collar…

‘Hey… It’s been kind of a night, you know? Let’s just get to the motel. We can come back here first thin-’

His words had been cut short with a gurgle. She had barely processed the grotesque silhouette before it lunged again, cleaving Max’s head off his shoulders in one swipe. It hit the dirty, cracked cement with a dull thump.

“No, he’s not,” she forces out. The words land barely past her lips.

Across from her, the officer sits painfully still. She crawls forward, straining against the bars.

“He’s not dead. Is Max dead? Is he dead? ”

His eyes confirm it.

“No, no, no- what the fuck! ”

Laura twists to the left and violently retches, pure bile hitting the stone with a wet slap. Droplets splash up and latch onto her skin. The pure agony and regret is an ache so great that she curls in on herself. Her memory floods back in a detached symphony. Screams and gunshots, if only, if only, playing over in a distorted melody.

If only she didn’t sign them up to be counselors at a shitty summer camp, if only she didn’t insist that they go and check things out in the weird storm cellar. If they just went to the hotel.

Max would still be here. A sob lodges itself in her throat, clogged with spit and bitterness.

If, if, if.

Max is- was good. He didn’t deserve that. No one did.

The sheriff remains silent throughout her breakdown, which is how she forgets he’s even there until he stands.

“Ma’am, I’m going to need you to put your hands through the bars.”

She looks up, blinking uncomprehendingly.

“Ms. Kearney,” he says, and there’s something in his tone that’s softened from before. “Stand up.”

Like a predator, his eyes don’t leave hers. This isn’t over yet, Laura, she tells herself. Get up.

Only as she’s standing does she realize how stiff her clothes are, crusted over in things she refuses to consider. A sharp pain throbs up her stomach at the thought.

He cuffs her swiftly, unlocking the cell door and locking it behind him. There isn’t much space for her to go, but she still backs up till her knees hit the edge of her cell cot. With a grunt, he crouches and produces the same white handkerchief he used on her the night before, swiping up what little content her stomach expelled.

She puked yesterday, too. She remembers now. After it happened.

Fuck.

Her grief-stricken mind dimly notes how tall the man before her is. Crouching over a puddle of bile, lips pursing in disgust, his head still almost reaches her chest. This whole situation is so insane, it’s almost laughable if it weren’t paved with devastation. She exhales a shaky breath.

The Sheriff of North Kill eyes her, then. “C’mon,” he says as he gets back up to his feet, pocketing the soiled handkerchief. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

---

The water’s warm, at least. That was unexpected.

The thin bar of soap handed to her beyond the divider wall will definitely dry her skin out, but it cuts through the grime like a knife. Her fingernails are caked in soap from her claw-like grip, and she fiercely scrubs down every inch of skin and scalp several times over till her skin is pink and raw.

Get rid of last night. Erase it from her body. She watches with detached fascination as blood and dirt, her second skin, flows gently down the drain.

There he goes. It’s a terrible, morbid thought that still rings true, and she bites her lip hard enough to draw blood. Max is gone, and her life is irrevocably changed. The cop must think she has something to do with it; otherwise, why is she in a holding cell?

She squeezes her eyes shut against the second onslaught of tears that threaten to erupt. No more. She’s in a dangerous spot and literally has no one on her side, save for Max’s sister and parents.

The shower abruptly shuts off. A towel emerges from the other side of the divider. “Dry yourself,” he calls over unnecessarily.

She takes it and gingerly dries down, her already-angry flesh tingling painfully against the rough fabric. It feels good, though. The pain grounds her. A plain t-shirt and sweatpants, plus clean undergarments are slid beyond the wall, and she puts them on gratefully.

He takes her by the arm and down the hall they go, past the warm tones of brick and back through nondescript gray walls. She keeps her ears peeled for any sound other than their own footsteps. Nothing. Where the fuck is everybody else? This whole precinct is like a ghost town. Is it soundproofed?

She’s not sure what to expect, but him immediately walking away after she’s locked back in her cell is not it.

“Wait!”

He turns back, the ever-present annoyance already clouding his face. “What?”

“Does Max’s family…know? Can I speak to them?” she asks softly.

Instead of looking her in the eye, his gaze lands over her shoulder. “No.”

“They don’t know?”

He clenches his jaw. “There’s a process to this.”

They might have to see his body to ID it. The thought makes her sick, so Laura swallows it back.

“When do I get my phone call?” she asks quietly.

He scoffs with a light shake of the head. “Unbelievable.”

“What?" she asks incredulously. "Aren’t there, like, protocols?”

“Here’s what you need to know,” he says so abruptly that she can't help but lean back. He juts a finger in her face. “You’ve stepped in some Grade A cosmic bullshit, and the only thing you need to worry about is making sure you do exactly as I say.”

Her eyes can’t possibly get any wider with disbelief. Though everything in her wants to recoil, Laura stands her ground.

“But, Sheriff…” she glances down at the sheriff’s badge for the first time. Alarm bells surge in her mind. “...Hackett? Wait, like, Chris Hackett?”

He follows her eyes down to his lapel, eyes darting back to her own. Neither speak.

“Who… are you? What’s going on?”

He turns on his heel and walks away.

“Wait!” she yells after him. “You can’t just keep me here! What the fuck is going on here?!”

“Frankly, ma’am,” he calls over his shoulder, “you have no idea.”

Read on Ao3

#travis hackett #laura kearney #the quarry #the hacketts #the quarry spoilers #the quarry fanfiction #another lost soul

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margellaine · 3 months

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In my early 20s

I haven't been writing much as compared to when I was in college. I still have that skill for deep reflection and gaining insights in my day-to-day life, and basically making sense of things but as I grew older, I became more quiet and discreet about these thoughts. It's kind of conflicting actually because a part of me wants to share wisdom and wants to inspire other people but then the other part of me is telling me I should just keep it to myself. I'm very big on my daily affirmations and manifestations and one of them is still to inspire other people and impart wisdom. I processed where this fear of speaking up came from and I think it was because I kept telling myself before that I wasn't really good at writing. I am good at speaking, I feel I have the charisma for it and I have had a lot of exposure from it but writing seems kind of daunting for me because when you do write, there's an evidence of what you've said and if you were to say something wrong, people can still come back to it and judge you. The fear of being perceived, the fear of being wrong, the fear of failing. Well, as someone who is very persistent at getting better all the time and someone who has a lot of thoughts lol, I think i'll just start small. I feel like this is a good platform because nobody here really knows me personally and people here are more carefree than in any other platforms.

Anyway, enough about that. Today I wanted to talk about how I am navigating through my early 20s. I am 24 btw. As compared to most people, I've already figured out what I wanted to do in my life early on and so goal setting and decision making was quite easy. I know people keep telling me to enjoy my 20s, well I am enjoying my 20s, just not in the way people imagined. I am in a field that I actually love, I enjoy my jobs both part-time and fulltime job, I enjoy my graduate studies, and basically I enjoy everything that I'm doing right now. Although I am mostly busy, I work 7 days a week, 5 days for my full-time job and part-time job. I don't go out as much as other people because most of my day is occupied with work. Of course, I get tired and burnt out too because my work entails listening to people about their mental health issues and well-being but overall I feel fulfilled with my job. I feel a sense of purpose and I have a strong drive to grow and learn everyday. Work-life balance, I am working on it. I'm making conscious choices to rest more. I'm making it an intention to have a day free for myself to rest. I'm also including it in my monthly plans to do something creative or do something new. Right now, I would say I'm struggling with my search for a 'community'. I grew up being involved in a lot of communities, civic organizations, community organizations, school organizations, creative groups and when I graduated, I had less and less of that. Of course I have my new community, my workmates from both jobs but well, that's work and I've learned that relationships in workplaces are quite complex. I feel like right now, I need a community where I can just be my creative and passionate self. I used to belong to a number of communities in music, theater, and arts but right now, my life is quite different that I can't imagine yet going back to that kind of lifestyle as I know that when I do go back to those communities, I become very invested to it. So i'm thinking maybe this is the time for me to explore new things too.

Speaking of exploring and trying new things, it brings me to the topic of insecurity and social pressures. I was listening to a podcast earlier where they were saying that people in their 20s right now experience more pressure than people in their 20s before. The pressures came from of course, social media. They said that because of social media, you get to see what other people are doing and it gives you the idea of what you could be doing too and there's so many pressures out there, so many information, so many options, that you feel more pressure to actually "enjoy your 20s" that you end up not enjoying it at all. I found that insightful because it verbalized one of the reasons why I've withdrawn so much from social media. I used to be all over social media not just for personal purposes but also professional purposes. I was a performer then and had a bit of influence in terms of music and performing. It was fun at first putting out your creative self out there, opportunities came left and right, getting appreciation from people until the effects of being in the limelight affected my self-esteem and mental health. Along with other personal traumatic incidents, I had to go under the social media radar. It was hard at first of course, but the more I stayed away from it and found other ways to spend my time instead of posting and scrolling on socmed, it became easier. I'm proud to say that I don't ever feel the need to know what others are posting anymore, I don't feel the need to let other people know what I'm doing too, and overall socmed is just very easy to remove from my day to day activities at this point. My use of socmed now is more intentional and I'm able to filter what content is best for me to consume. I love that. Of course, most people now don't know what i'm doing in my life. That's okay. I'm content with my interactions with people now. I am able to set healthier boundaries. And well, it's kind of cool to be lowkey and mysterious lol.

Anyway, all I'm saying is I'm proud of how I'm handling my 20s. It's not perfect and I still feel pressure too but it's more of pressure from the real world, not from what I perceive online. I'm proud to be part of the "outliers". My lifestyle right now helps me function more on internal values rather than external circumstances. Sure, I get insecure every once in a while but because I'm already sure and set on what I want for myself, it's easier now to get back on my real purpose, my sense of self, and decide based on that. In effect, less likely for me to stray from my path. Paired with my highly organized but also flexible way of goal-setting behaviors, it's easier for me to achieve things and do things that really contribute to the life that I've envisioned for myself. Many people may not understand my methods and it's effect on my behavior and relationships with them, but that's okay. I've recently learned that that's a good thing. It helps me recognize the people who will really appreciate me for who I am. It may be isolating sometimes, but that only challenges me to confront myself and the insecurities that my arise from that. It helps me sit with myself and not run away from myself, take accountability of my actions, be more responsible, and contribute more to the things that really matter. Wow, I actually love my life and I'm content with what I have now at the same time have it in me to keep pursuing a better life for me and my loved ones. Although my path may still have bumps and obstacles along the way but it's clear and sure and that helps me enjoy the journey even more. I should cherish this more.

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thedaveandkimmershow · 5 months

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In the winter, sleeping in on our birthdays makes our birthdays seem objectively shorter. You leave the house around noon or after, you've got about four hours of birthday in there.

Not really, of course. It just feels like that since we lose the daylight a little after four in the afternoon.

A seriously short day.

Two days after the shortest day of the year, the winter solstice.

So this year we get up when we normally get up for work, somewhere between 7 and 8 with teas, coffee, and a latte. Nine-ten we're out the door and into the theater with a tub 'o buttered popcorn by 930 for a bunch of trailers and, finally, "The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes".

We were the only ones there.

We are definitely watching that again.

Friend of ours isn't a fan. A bunch of people aren't fans of the movie. But we were hooked, engaged by the head-game vibe of the story. There are definitely questions littered about like landmines and we want at least another go at watching the movie for understanding.

It feels like there's more there there.

Twelve-thirty we're out of the theater and back to the house to pick up birthday brownies that'll come into play when we're down at Linzy's place. Linzy, by the way, is working her music teacher gig that'll end at two.

Two-twenty we drive up to her place, she arrives a coupla minutes after, grabs the birthday brownies from Kimmer, sets them in her apartment, jumps into the car, and we head off to Tapster for drinks.

It's never just drinks at Tapster, of course. It's an experience.

They've got swings for crying out loud. Which are the "seats" Kimmer 'n Linzy chose once they had their first round of drinks in hand.

By the way, I didn't want to drive into town. Didn't want to deal with parking that I presumed would be impossible. My idea, which remained just an idea, was to park at Northgate and light rail into town. Instead, we picked Linzy up at her place, drove down to that parking lot in front of the Wooden Boats place and BAM.

Found our parking spot first thing.

Three-thirty we hail a Lyft that drops us on the corner of 1st & Pine fifteen minutes later. We start walking down Pine and immediately start thinking this is the exact stretch of sidewalk Tom Hanks and Rob Reiner walked up (or down) in the movie, "Sleepless In Seattle".

Halfway down the block, we're sucked into Sur La Table, the kitchen store. Not sure how long we're in there but we look at a lot of kitchen accessories.

Then we're out the door, down to the corner, across the street passed the guy playing his mini piano on wheels on the opposite corner. Up the block some more and we catch the trail to Pike Place Market Creamery, our first intended stop at the Market.

Why?

'Cause none of us has been able to score eggnog at any of our usual grocery stores. And sure enough, the Creamery has some. In glass bottles, no less.

And definitely tasty.

Next stop's across the street, over by where they throw fish, down the stairs just to the right, down a flight, down a hall, down some stairs, backtrack a little on the next floor down to Golden Age Collectibles, the Sci-Fi store of my youth... the comic book store of our friend Susan's time working at the main branch of the Seattle Public Library.

Magnets, by the way. In a store packed with people browsing a multitude of collectibles, magnets are what caught our eyes and kept catching our eyes.

We couldn't get enough. They were hysterical.

We were there a bit, then after started thinking about dinner so we headed back to the stairs with the intention of walking down to the waterfront. As we're almost to the stairs, though, Kimmer spots a restaurant down an adjacent hall. Sound View Cafe. With, yes. A wonderful view of Eliott Bay, the Sound, and the sunset behind it.

And, of course, the tasty A1 burgers set before us on the table.

Quarter to Six we walk out of the Market, across the street, making our way to Westlake Mall for a more intense Christmastime vibe slash photo op.

Eventually, we make it to Nordstrom and their Ebar Artisan Coffee shop for our evening's hot beverages. Then we're up up up to and across the sky bridge to Pacific Place where we completely disapprove of the remodel. Linzy objects on the basis of the shops are waaaaaaay out of her price range. We object on the basis of it's not as charming as it used to be.

By 'n by, we make our way to the ground floor and pop back out onto Pine, walking toward the Macy's Star. Crossing 6th toward Nordstrom, we join a group of parents and kids watching the going's on inside Nordstrom's Santa Lane.

It really is worth a moment of your time watching Santa and his visitors through the glass. It's also worth a moment of your time watching people watch Santa and his visitors. Including some little people with their noses pressed right up to the glass.

It's addicting to watch the activity both inside and outside the Lane.

Six-thirty we catch a Lyft down the block and to the left. Drops us at our car at South Lake Union. Then we drive up the hill to Linzy's place where, once again, we get excessively lucky with parking. ☺️

Inside Linzy's place, birthday brownies are immediately put to good use, preceded by a touch of candle lighting and a round of "Happy Birthday".

Linzy was pretty full from dinner by that point so it was Kimmer 'n me partaking of the chocolate-y chewy goodness.

Linzy has a friend whose birthday's the same day as mine so she has another party to attend. With that in mind, we hit the road at 730 (hugs and good wishes all around) while she gets ready.

Now, my birthday's not yet over but we are transitioning to our Christmas plans. Therefore, our next stop's at Total Wine & More in Alderwood to build up our holiday stock. Interestingly, we don't seem to be much in need... and wind up walking away with just the one six-pack of Clausthaler Grapefruit Non-alcoholic Beer.

That's okay, though. It's festive!

Eight-thirty we're home packing and wrapping presents.

That's me, by the way. Kimmer, on the other hand, is writing inside the birthday card she crafted for me and also wrapping my birthday presents.

The presents, by the way, include a glass ornament in the shape of an old television set with color bars in the screen, a black t-shirt that reads "It's Not A Dad Bod... It's A Father Figure", and a much better thermos to replace my old one.

So.

My birthday came to a close around 930 that night with the opening of my birthday card and gifts.

Beyond that?

Getting ready for the impending Christmas.

🤩🤩🤩

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cowjust · 2 years

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Mad max cast

MAD MAX CAST MOVIE

MAD MAX CAST DRIVER

MAD MAX CAST MOVIE

I don’t think it would be the same movie without. The heat gets to you, but that kind of sinks into the movie. “The dust gets in your eyes and every crevice. “It’s very tough being out there so long,” Miller explains. The cast and crew, numbering as many as 1,700, wouldn’t leave until some five months later. The production scouted the world for a new location and settled on the African country of Namibia, home to a 1,200-mile desert that’s virtually uninhabited. Director George Miller on not casting Mel Gibson Not only had Mel hit all the turbulence in his life, but this is not a ‘Mad Max’ in which he’s an old warrior. One small problem - the once arid desert had been flooded by rain for the first time in years and was now a lush garden. With the cast in place by 2010, Miller planned to return to the Australian Outback, the filming location for the previous trilogy. Hardy, who is now 37 and was just 6 weeks old when the original “Mad Max” started shooting, got the part instead. Heath Ledger was reportedly considered for the lead before he died from abuse of prescribed medications in 2008. I guess in the same way that James Bond had been played by various people, it was time to hand over the mantle.” “He’s meant to be that same contemporary warrior. “By the time we got there, not only had Mel hit all the turbulence in his life, but this is not a ‘Mad Max’ in which he’s an old warrior,” the director says. But then he was busted for drunken driving, called a police officer “sugar tits,” was embroiled in an ugly battle with his girlfriend, made anti-Semitic comments and was secretly recorded ranting insanely at a screenwriter. “Fury Road” was also going to star the original Max, Mel Gibson, now 59. (Yes, “Happy Feet,” as in the animated movie about dancing penguins.) “I had to move on to ‘Happy Feet,’ because there was a small window when that was ready.” “The American dollar collapsed against the Australian dollar, and our budget ballooned,” Miller says. The movie was all set to shoot way back in 2001, and then 9/11 happened. Max and Furiosa flee across the irradiated Wasteland in an attempt to outrun Joe and his army of white-painted “War Boys” (including Nicholas Hoult) and bands of other local psychos.

MAD MAX CAST DRIVER

Lone warrior Max (Tom Hardy) reluctantly teams with Imperator Furiosa (Charlize Theron), a badass truck driver who has rescued five slave wives from the hands of a brutal warlord, Immortan Joe (Hugh Keays-Byrne). Through all the twists and turns over the years, one thing that’s remained surprisingly unchanged is the story. It brings with it sky-high expectations fueled by the decades-long wait and one of the greatest trailers in recent memory. The movie’s epic journey from Miller’s head to the screen took 17 years and was beset by a long list of hardships - including biblical downpours, a continental location change, an actor’s untimely death and one-time-star Mel Gibson’s well-publicized meltdowns.īut next Friday, “Mad Max: Fury Road” finally roars into theaters. He might have wished he’d just slept on that flight instead. Miller conceived of a story where violent marauders were fighting, not for oil or for material goods, but for human beings. “I kept pushing the idea aside, but it kept growing,” Miller recalls to The Post.Ībout a year later, high above the Pacific on an LA-to-Australia flight, the idea coalesced. He’d already made three movies set in that universe - 1979’s “Mad Max,” 1981’s “The Road Warrior” and 1985’s “Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome” - and Miller thought he’d said all he had to say about the dust-choked, post-apocalyptic wasteland where leather-clad gangs battled for gasoline. And by the time he reached the other side, he swore to himself he’d abandon it. It may have been the most fortuitous street-crossing since The Beatles’ “Abbey Road.”īack in 1998, director George Miller was walking across a Los Angeles intersection when an idea for a new “Mad Max” film struck him.īy the time he’d reached the middle of the street, he had a kernel of a story.

#Mad max cast

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johnemulaney · 3 years

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John Mulaney: From Scratch in Las Vegas, September 4

Once again, spoilers for the show and what will presumably be in the special. This is about his relapse so tread with caution is that will be an issue for you. However, the tone of his struggle is the same one he used in his past specials so if you didn’t have any issues then, I think you’d be ok with this. Of course, use your own best judgement, friends.

The opener was Seaton Smith.

He opened with trying to find the rich people in the crowd but acknowledged that they’d go mwrmwmwrw money isn’t everything so then he started talking about golf and went aha I got ya’ll.

There was a joke about weed being the only Christian drug

He had a bit about when white people are nice, be nervous

He had a bit about there being a black man on the Bachelor and was like America (ABC and Disney+) were not ready for a black man to be fucking a house full of 50 white women. That shit premiered on Tuesday and the Capitol burned on Wednesday.

He also did some crowd work and roasted a couple in the front row for having different answers about kids and she was like I didn’t hear the question and was roasted about how not hearing questions you don’t want to answer is certainly a tactic, often used by drug dealers

He also had a bit about how different child rearing is in Texas versus New York and about how hitting your kids is treated differently, like his dad would have just threatened it whimsically.

Now on to the Main Event!

The first thing he said was “hiiiiiiiiii” exactly in the tone you think he said it in. he followed that up with a little shrug looking adorable and a little bashful

“It’s him! Mr. Problems. Oh Las Vegas, Oh my god” he then talks about how Vegas is a land of vice and a Choice for him to preform in as a recovering addict. He had a sober buddy and 3 bodyguards with him at all times.

“And here’s what happened” December 18, 2020, he gets invited to a friends apartment for dinner AND HE’S TWO HOURS LATE because he stopped, coked out of his mind, at SNL for a haircut because he still had his building access badge and he went to the hair department and they were like, he’ll leave faster if we just do this, and then he stopped at his drug dealers.

He called venmo and cashapp, apps for drug deals and was like what do normal people even use them for. He maxed both out paying for drugs.

He was the best looking person at his intervention. “Coke skinny, new cut” and the 12 people intervening looked like shit. He looked “tears for fears while they all looked jerry garcia” (I hope you know who those musicians are besties).

He immediately yelled “Can I go to the bathroom” to you know, dump his drugs because when you walk into that, you know what it is.

He was not allowed to go (he would be asked if he still needed to pee later and would say “what?”

There were 6 people in NYC and 6 people over zoom in LA because he guesses 6 people couldn’t be bothered to fly in for HIS INTERVENTION

Interventions can go two ways, it can be kind of accusatory and this is how you let us all down, or it can be supportive. Everyone but Nick Kroll got the memo to be supportive.

Nick Kroll went first.

Nick Kroll listed all the ways John was a bad best friend and brother over zoom and John was getting texts during the intervention saying Nick wasn’t supposed to do that and they were all sorry.

Bill Hader went next. he originally wasn’t going to be able to make it so he had recorded a thing but since he was there, he did it live. (He would eventually send the video to John in rehab, which is not what you want on the way to rehab “awesome, more intervention”)

He tried to derail the intervention, “there’s not enough latinx representation” he said he’d go to any rehab except the one they had picked out for him. This was a star-studded affair and he was mad no one was being funny.

Natasha Lyons went next, telling him his life and career is in shambles

So he gets carted off to rehab after this intervention. Don’t let 12 comedians pack your bags for 2 months at rehab. it was bombas socks and iphone chargers.

A little secret about rehab, you’re not allowed to bring drugs in. You remember how he was late? In his pocket on the way to rehab included: a huge amount of pills, 3g of coke (which was 2g by the time he got there, courtesy of a koala station in a gas station bathroom), and $2000 in cash. He had other plans for the weekend. He was admitted for xanax, coke, perocet, and adderall addiction. Say what you will, but he does not do anything half way.

It’s 4am when he’s sent to detox, he’s been awake for 3 days.

He also gives a small lesson on how to get drugs. Find the lowest rated doctors on yelp and webmd reviews and go ask for them, they need all the business they can get. You become like Captain Phillips, I am the doctor now.

Dr. Michael was his shady doctor. He was a first avenue apartment where he would write prescriptions from his kitchenette where his girl Minerva was always asleep. “I didn’t kill my wife Minerva.” But John would ask for his drugs, Dr. Michael would write the script and then ask what he needed it for. Dr. Michael would also make John take his shirt off, always offering a flu shot and going no, shirt all the way off (in case you were wondering how bad this addiction actually was)

The first moral is now you know. The second moral is get vaccinated.

He’s sent to the regular ward the next afternoon and they finally get him to sleep.

He’s sketched out that doctors have last names at this establishment

He asks for drugs such as klonopin and is taken aback a bit when he doesn’t get them. The doctor is like PA state law says no, and so John suggests they go to a CVS in Jersey to get some.

His bestie Pete Davidson starts calling that night. Except Pete changes his number every month and a half so John has him send a selfie and saves the new number under some other random name, at this point in time, Pete is saved as Al Pacino. (We get an Al Pacino impression) John is asleep and his nurse sees Al Pacino trying to call him 5 times and so she wakes him up.

Pete Davidson and John Mulaney did not do drugs together. (The author is lowkey surprised and sad about that, like if Pete was my bestie, we’d make so many poor choices) But Pete was always very supportive of his sobriety.

John needs recognition so badly, in group when they introduced themselves he said “I’m John M.” and no one cared. So he left a tabloid out with the news of his admittance and his face on it in the rec room on the table. The not being someone was “driving him bananas.” When they talked about what they do for a living and he said I’m a a stand up comedian, someone asked if he made a living that way. He said “yeah ask your daughter” (or your son)

One of the things you do at rehab is break up with your drug dealer.

One of his drug dealers only bought drugs to keep John from buying worse off the streets and only got into the game because John kept asking him for drugs and was his only buyer. That guy was originally a painter and John has no idea how they met. John is the only person to turn an innocent man into a drug dealer.

Here he did the Baby J is back baby joke. the Park Theater is one of the biggest stages in the world so he did that joke in one pace across the stage and said the stage is that joke long.

“I am no longer on drugs. It’s very good but also ah---” He’s in a 12 step anonymous group.

“I need attention, clearly.” After a show you think he would be sated, but no.

He wants that attention that the kid who’s grandparent died and showed up to school dressed for the funeral and got to sit in the beanbag chair for reading despite it not being his turn, gets. He went on about being willing to let one of the lesser important grandparents die so he could get attention, for quite a while.

He feels left behind in science, like his C’s and D’s in those classes. All those classes were was putting things on a windowsill for the janitor to throw away. He had a bit about how the fuck people put dinosaurs back together, it’s like getting wayfair furniture without the instructions.

He also things the moon belongs to America. Like we got there first and when other countries say stuff about the moon he’s like mmmmmmm.

He also had a joke about paying to get into college and like, for white people that’s always how it’s been.

The show ended with him going over the highlights of that GQ interview that he was so coked out for that he forgot he did it entirely. He has no memory of it at all. He was just called up that day and asked for an interview and you know how coke is the best drug to receive attention on? He just did whatever he wanted with that attention.

And that was the show.

#John Mulaney #john mulaney: from scratch #spoilers #kid gorgeous #The Comeback Kid #The Top Part #New In Town #show write up

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butchniqabi · 3 years

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Anatomical Theater in Padua (1594) / Enrique Simonet Lombardo. The Autopsy (Anatomy of the Heart; She had a Heart!) (1890)

Let Me Be Reborn as an Alarm Clock by Amatullah Bourdon

Words: 1563

Warnings: gore, medical, death

Summary: A woman is taken apart in an anatomical theater

Notes: Okay so. I was once again struck by a beam of inspiration (this time inspired by Zev aka hannibalapologist and his love for anatomical theaters) and wrote this quick piece. It has a sci-fi element to is so its like...past meets future is suppose! Story under the cut!

@hannibalapologist @fluoresensitive

The theater was empty aside from the six bodies who inhabited it. Four of them, doctors, sat around the tall room, close enough to view the dissection. A woman stood at the ready, her subject lay on the table with a serene expression. The woman was Dr. Antoinetta Brown and the subject was her daughter, Fantine.

Fantine had to die. The collective, composed of the five doctors, had voted four to one to end her existence. So now it was time to take her apart, bit by bit so she could be remade.

“Are you ready, Dr. Brown?” Dr. Pillai, a usually jovial woman, asked somberly.

“Yes,” she replied. “I will begin shortly.”

Antoinetta adjusted the tight gloves that covered her hands. She looked down at Fantine, who was staring up at her with an unreadable expression.

“I will begin soon, Fantine.” Antoinetta whispered.

“I know.” she replied, smiling.

“I’m so sorry.”

Fantine just kept smiling.

The dissection began.

Fantine would not feel any pain as she worked. Antoinetta carefully ran a knife down her sternum and to her navel. The knife glided as it cut through her skin to reveal the muscle underneath. She carefully pushed a blunt tool under her skin to disconnect it from the muscle tissue. Soon however, Antoinetta abandoned the tool entirely, using her hands to push flesh from flesh.

The collective’s decision to dissect Fantine came as little surprise to Anotinetta. They had been circling her for months and had been eyeing her ever since her creation. At first they had scoffed at the notion of her existence, even Dr. McFadden who had pioneered AI technology in her field, but soon they realized how special Fantine was. And now that they saw all she could be, they wanted her to be taken apart.

Antoinetta made a cut down Fantine’s muscle wall. She looked up from her work to catch a glimpse of Fantine. She hoped that her daughter could forgive her for this. She carefully pulled open her stomach and examined the wiring inside.

Dr. Owens truly galvanized the others into taking apart Fantine. She was an aggressive woman by nature, headstrong and rough around the edges. People knew to avoid her when she was in the middle of a project, which was almost always. Antoinetta thought there was some part of Owens which was jealous of her, of her invention.

The inside of Fantine mimicked the human body. She had blood and spinal fluid and spit. Her heart beated around a generator and her intestines wove around a data processing drive. Antoinetta showcased this to her colleagues. She pointed out the artificial stomach, the wires which carried information along with red blood, the bones made of titanium that shone in the bright lights.

Antoinetta was surprised by Dr. Pillai. Akshaana had been her friend for decades. They had done their doctoral dissertations side by side, restless and invigorated they bounced ideas off one another late into the night. She was bright and had encouraged Antoinetta to create Fantine.

Slowly, she tied off vessels and intestines. The generator was complex, and too large to work with so many obstructions. She removed the liver first. It weighed heavy with bile. In her hands the organ still flexed with phantom energy and bled when she placed it in a nearby dish.

Fantine was smart in a way that frightened people. Her intelligence never gave way to a superiority complex, her astute observations never masked with haughtiness. She was always smiling, always serene as she took apart supercomputers. Smiling as she solved complex math problems. Smiling as she predicted political moves and social moves and the moves of the collective. Smiling with a warmth that never quite reached her stark white eyes.

Dr. Nakahara thought the whole thing was a tragedy. She cried crocodile tears as she ordered Antoinetta to kill her creation. She was sad, of course she was sad. The technology involved in the creation of Fantine was a work of art. Anyone who was eager to destroy her was heartless, inhuman. Fantine was The Creation of Man, The Birth of Venus, a stained glass window set in an old church that let light in streams of red, yellow and blue.

Fantine’s stomach went next followed by her spleen, pancreas, and gallbladder. She held up each organ and explained briefly how they were made and how they functioned in an artificial body. Fantine was still smiling, staring aimlessly at the ceiling as her organs piled up next to her.

Did the body, as it decomposed, remember the feeling of consciousness? Did it yearn for life as it returned to the earth? Would the metal parts that made up Fantine's body remember her? Would they sing as they were melted down, reformed, and molded into a new image (Recycled, just like a human)?

"I want to be remade as something useful." Fantine said suddenly. "I want to be memorable."

Antoinetta was stunned by her statement. Didn’t she know she was already memorable? Not just to Anoinetta, but to artificial intelligence and robotics as a whole. Fantine was the first and the last, would always be the only one of her kind.

“I’ll make sure you’re put to good use.” she replied softly. And oh, did Fantine smile.

Dr. McFadden had created the most sophisticated AI the world had ever seen. It thought, it dreamed, it craved. It named itself, Jeremiah, and chose an image to base itself off of. McFadden rose to fame for her work and inspired both Antoinetta and Akshaana to pursue a similar study. She was a private woman despite her notoriety. No one knew what she did with her AI after she closed the program (and those who did were sworn to secrecy they dared not break). Even the other members of the collective couldn’t say much about her and her moods. Despite that, Antoinetta thought that she would hold a soft spot for Fantine, but there was little room in her heart for beings made of metal.

Next, Antoinetta cut the diaphragm and pulled it apart with her hands. She could feel the organs quake as they were prodded and shifted. Slowly, but surely, Fantine’s generator was exposed. The lungs had to go in order for her work to be the most effective.

She thought back to when she created Fantine. Her child began as a program, a series of ones and zeroes that evolved and grew as she learned. Antoinetta nurtured her the way any mother would, giving her books to read and problems to solve. She made her a body and took the utmost care in the crafting.

Her lungs twitched for breath in the dish. Finally, her generator was cleared. It connected to her heart and regulated itself with her spinal fluid. Antoinetta sighed and cast one last look to Fantine as she dug her hands into her near empty chest.

There were a series of fail safes installed in case of damage or tampering, Antoinetta disassembled them all. One by one, line by line, Fantine slowly shut down. The life was leaving her, she could feel it. Her blood stopped pumping, her organs stopped wiggling. Antoinetta wanted to weep as she killed her creation, deprived her of the consciousness that she had worked so hard to grant her.

She arrived at the final switch: her heart. It was a poetic choice on her part to make her heart the center of her consciousness. She gripped Fantine’s heart as she prepared to cut it off from her body and pull it from her chest.

A long moment passed in silence. Antoinetta did not move as she felt the heart beat lazily in her hand. Could she really kill Fantine? Could she end her life like this?

A cool hand touched her arm. It was Fantine, using the limited mobility she had left to offer comfort. She smiled her serene smile that didn’t reach her eyes and laughed softly.

“Thank you for my life.” she said.

Antoinetta disconnected her heart and Fantine’s face fell blank, dead. Her hand slid off her arm and dangled over the side, limp. She held the heart up for the collective to see. It did not beat.

From the heart she grabbed a small, innocuous chip. This was Fantine in her true, pure form. A series of data collected and compressed into files, lines, and code. Antoinetta wondered if she could still think, still feel.

The doctors rose from their seats, the demonstration was over. They walked down to the theater and gazed closely upon Fantine’s corpse: a husk made of artificial flesh and metal. Dr. McFadden held out her hand expectantly. Antoinetta handed her Fantine.

“Thank you for your cooperation, Dr. Brown.” She said simply.

The women walked out of the room in silence, leaving Antoinetta alone. Truly alone. Soon people would come to clean up the waste. They would clean the flesh from her metal bones and dispose of it proper. The metal would be melted down and remade into hip implants, telephone poles, and alarm clocks.

In a way, Fantine would never die. In a way, Fantine was never really alive.

Antoinetta removed her gloves and washed her hands. She placed Fantine’s hand at her side and carefully closed her eyes. She brushed back a stray curl and left before the others could arrive.

#my writing #nudity #gore #blood tw #*does a lil tap dance*

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