#This is me any time i watch a horror movie with a mildly attractive man
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panning for gold
@bardingbeedle here is your birthday fic!!!!! ily, i hope you enjoy <3
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Tony is not a stupid man. So when Captain America asks him if he wants to “step out” with him, of course he says yes.
He’s amused because Steve plans the date and picks him up at six o’clock on the dot. His amusement must be written on his face because Steve ducks his head like he’s embarrassed and says, “Ah, I know this isn’t exactly how things are done anymore, but it took it out of me just to ask, so...”
He’s sweet, painfully so, and Tony couldn’t stop himself from smiling if he wanted to. “Hey, who’s complaining?”
Steve smiles back, his shoulders relaxing a little, sweet and appreciative. He’s really something else and if Tony’s not careful he’ll be in trouble. Steve’s a good guy—the best, really, but there’s no way Steve is interested in dating Tony long term. It’s probably not conscious, but he’s interested in the experiences Tony can provide. Fancy dinners, lavish vacations, expensive presents. Sure, maybe there’s some attraction there, some connection, they’re friends, aren’t they? But it always comes down to Tony’s money. He’s not about to hold that against Steve. They can have a little fun. “Come on,” he says, slipping his arm through Steve’s. “Take me out on the town.”
Steve beams, hand curling around Tony’s on his elbow.
–
They go to a place called “The Big Gay Ice Cream Shop” and Tony barks out a laugh. Steve smiles, glancing at him slyly out of the corner of his eye. “I thought it seemed appropriate.”
“You aren’t wrong.”
Steve holds the door open for him, which is another charming gesture. They spend a little while at the counter sampling flavors and leave twenty minutes later with waffle cones the size of their heads. Tony automatically goes for his wallet at the register, but Steve catches his hand and pushes it back into his jacket.
“My treat.”
Tony blinks, surprised. “Oh.” He shrugs after a moment and grins. “Okay, then.”
He can’t remember the last time someone paid for him for...anything. It may have never happened. He’s always been the one with more means than sense. The experience is novel and he can’t help the way it lingers in the back of his mind through the rest of the date, which is a long walk back to the Tower.
Steve is funny in the driest way and smart as hell in a way that’s unlike Tony’s own intellect, but that just makes it all the more fascinating to talk to him.
Plus, he’s gorgeous, which Tony is reminded of when they finally meander up to the Tower and into the elevator. Steve leans back against the elevator wall, hands in his pockets, his head angled toward the floor, and he smiles at Tony, looking at him through his sandy eyelashes.
It knocks Tony for a loop.
He still hasn’t quite figured out how to breathe again when Steve says in a low voice, “I had a really good time tonight, Tony. Can we do this again?”
Tony works his tongue around his mouth for a second, trying to get some moisture back into it. “Yeah,” he says faintly, “me too. This was fun. How’s, uh, next Tuesday?”
Steve glows at him. That’s the only way to describe it. Tony’s stomach swoops like he’s pushing Mach 5 in the suit. “Six?”
“Yeah,” Tony rasps.
Steve pushes off the wall as they arrive at the floor that holds his apartment and Tony feels his passing like electricity over his skin. “Okay. See you then.”
Oh, Tony thinks as the doors close, yeah, I’m in trouble.
–
“IFC is playing The Shining,” Steve says while he and Tony head downstairs on Tuesday. “I thought we could go see it?”
“You’re into horror?”
Steve shrugs. “I don’t know, but I hear it’s a classic. One of the best of all time?”
“I saw it when I was ten so I can’t comment on anything other than the fact that it scarred me.”
“You were ten?” Steve says with a look somewhere between incredulity and amused of-course-you-did, which is a look Tony is used to getting.
“Dad kept telling me I was a baby and I wanted to prove him wrong. I snuck into the theater. I couldn’t sleep for a week.”
“Well, now I’m really curious.”
“Wow, asshole,” Tony says.
Steve shrugs, hands in his pockets again. It’s like he thinks he’s too big—taking up too much room. “I keep tryin’ to tell people...”
It feels like Tony’s heart grows in his chest. God, he’s so fond of Rogers. He’s a shit.
–
Steve pays for the movie and their concessions, too.
Tony thinks about saying something, but he’s not sure what exactly he’d say. Stop it? I have money (obviously)? He can’t come up with anything that doesn’t sound ridiculous. So he just keeps his mouth shut and watches the movie.
It’s definitely not as scary as he remembers, but there are still some creepy moments. Some of it just gets him because of how much it reminds him of Howard.
When they leave the theater, Steve is in a somber mood.
“That was...interesting,” he says, obviously struggling for words. “They implied that Jack was in the hotel in the past, too.”
“Yeah.”
Steve goes quiet, mind obviously churning.
They walk in silence for nearly a block before Steve finally shakes his head. “Sorry, that was… I wasn’t expecting that.”
He’s unsettled Tony realizes. “Are you okay?”
Steve looks over at him, a flush creeping over his cheeks. “Yeah, uh,” he scrubs a hand over the back of his head. “It’s just—the way he lost control…”
“Reminds me of my dad,” Tony says, before he can think better of it and he only just manages to stifle a wince when Steve looks over at him, eyes wide.
“Howard was like that?”
“I mean he never tried to axe me, but—” Tony shakes his head, brushing that all away. “He was your friend, let’s not get into that—”
Steve grasps Tony by the wrist, bringing him to a stop on the sidewalk with barely any pressure at all. Tony gets the sudden urge to shake him off, but he mashes it down. Steve’s face is serious, tinted orange in the sodium vapor lights. “You and I are better friends than we ever were, Tony. If he ever did anything like that to you—” His mouth goes tight. “You didn’t deserve that.”
Tony stares at him, feeling strangely overwhelmed, so much so that he can’t speak. He can’t find the words for—anything.
Steve’s face softens and he puts a hand very lightly in the small of Tony’s back. “C’mon. Ice cream?”
Tony nods and lets himself be led.
–
He’s doing it deliberately, Tony realizes after they’ve gone on three more dates. On their fourth date, Tony pulls out his wallet early trying to beat Steve to the payment, but Steve says, “That’s okay, Tony. I’ve got it.”
“You’ve gotten it every time so far,” Tony says.
“Yeah,” Steve says mildly, handing over his credit card, “what’s your point? I want to.”
Tony doesn’t actually have a good argument to counter that, so he lets his hand drop. Steve smiles at him and it’s like Tony can feel the Pavlovian neuro-paths forming in his brain. Jesus, he’s a sucker. This was supposed to be a fun little fling because when you’re offered the chance to date Captain America you don’t say no, but Steve keeps asking him and Tony keeps saying yes. And Steve’s sticking around even though he’s the one paying for everything. It doesn’t track at all.
Coney Island is a blast, partly because of the attractions, but mostly because of all the stories Steve tells him about what a scrappy little cuss he was. He even tells Tony about a time when Bucky made him go on the Cyclone and he threw up and he actually manages to smile during the story. It’s the first time Tony’s heard him talk about Bucky without a thread of raw agony in his voice. It sounds stupid, but he’s honored. It’s taken the team two years to start cracking through Steve’s walls and it’s humbling to realize Steve feels like he can say these things to Tony and that it’s helping.
They stay until well after sundown and Tony can’t stop looking at Steve under the kaleidoscope of multicolored lights. He’s relaxed, happy, and it’s beautiful.
“Let’s ride the Ferris wheel,” Steve suggests, and Tony just says okay. He’d say yes to just about anything Steve suggested at this point.
It’s a warm night with a cool breeze—pretty much perfect as far as nights go. Despite the fact that the line is fairly lengthy, they end up in one of the fixed cars alone. Tony’s stomach flips when Steve sits and pulls Tony down next to him, wrapping his arm around Tony’s waist. The midway is all lit up below them, backed by the beach and the dark water beyond. This is the first time Tony’s been on a Ferris wheel in years and it’s making him feel like a kid again. It’s goofy, but there’s something magic about it.
“It’s pretty amazing this is still around,” Steve says, and Tony drags his gaze away from the view. “There was a big fuss when it opened. It was called the Dip-the-Dip back then, but it was just like this.”
“People do some incredible things,” Tony says, and Steve meets his eyes.
“They sure do.”
Their car reaches the apex of the wheel and rocks slowly to a stop as the wheel pauses. The breeze is cool, blowing Tony’s hair in his eyes and he reaches up to push it back. When he can see again, Steve is close enough Tony can feel the heat of his skin against his cheek and he sucks in a breath, heart breaking into a sprint.
“Gonna kiss you now,” Steve says, voice low. Then he cups Tony’s face in both his big hands and kisses him so gently it feels like his thoughts go spiraling away on the breeze.
The blood roars in his ears and he only realizes he was holding his breath when Steve draws back and Tony sucks in a gasp, his hands clutching at Steve’s leather jacket. Steve is warm underneath it, but the lining is cool and smooth against the back of his knuckles.
Steve smiles at him, sucking Tony’s stomach right back out of his body, and then leans in again and presses another featherlight kiss to his mouth. “Been wanting to do that for weeks.”
Tony makes an inarticulate noise and shifts impossibly closer to Steve, the heat of his thigh like fire against his leg. “Well, don’t stop now,” he rasps.
Steve lights up, his eyes reflecting back all the colors of the lights as they go by, and then he’s kissing Tony again, tongue easing into Tony’s mouth and sending sparks through his scalp. He moans, blown away by how good it feels to kiss Steve. Oh, god, he’s supposed to give this up? Like hell.
–
After that he’s plunged from “getting in over his head” to “in way over his head”. He tries so goddamn hard to protect himself from the inevitable heartbreak caused by people who don’t realize they’re in love with his money and not him, but he wasn’t ready for Steve Rogers.
Steve who hasn’t let him pay for a single thing in the three months they’ve been dating. Not so much as a coffee. What is he supposed to do with that? What is Steve getting out of this if he won’t take Tony’s money?
“STOP,” Tony bursts as Steve takes the check holder, “Stop. I can’t take it anymore. What is this, the world’s longest con?”
Steve blinks at him and the waiter slowly backs away from the table and disappears. “What?” Steve finally says.
“You won’t let me pay for anything! But people date me for my money. So I don’t understand what’s going on here. Are you trying to lull me into a false sense of security? Because, if I’m being honest, I’m already fucked. I’m into you. Way into you. So even if you are, you can just cut it out. You can have whatever you want.”
Steve’s face pinches and he puts a crease in the check holder, his fingers are gripping it so hard. “No, Tony. It’s not...it’s not a con. I didn’t want you to think that I even might be interested in you for your money.”
Tony shrugs, feeling small. “Everyone is.”
“I’m not,” Steve says firmly. “And I’ll keep paying for things as long as it takes you to believe that. I don’t need or want your money. I want you.”
Tony swallows, shoulders hunching and his fingers curling reflexively when Steve reaches across the table to put his hand over Tony’s. “You’d...pay for stuff forever? Even though I can afford—basically anything?”
“I’m dating you to spend time with you, Tony, not so you can buy me things. And I don’t want you to feel like it’s unfair or I’m coddling you or something. If you want to pay for your share, that’s fine. But I don’t need you to pay for mine. And I’ll never expect you to.”
Steve really is unbelievable, Tony thinks, staring at him across the table. “You would,” he says, knowing it’s true even as he says it.
“I will,” Steve says, like a vow. A shiver goes down Tony’s spine.
He curls his fingers around Steve’s and looks down at the tabletop, flicking aside a crumb. “And what if I wanted to buy you things?”
Steve is quiet for a long moment. “We can talk about it. The idea makes me uncomfortable, I won’t lie.”
“Because you feel like you’d be taking advantage.”
Steve smiles crookedly at him. “You thought I was running a con on you.”
Tony huffs and digs his fingers into the corners of his eyes. “Okay, fair. I’ve...I’ve never dated anyone like you, Steve.”
Steve’s eyes soften into something almost like sadness. “Maybe after awhile then, Tony. We can start with splitting the bill and see from there.”
Tony nods jerkily. “Yeah. Okay.” After a beat, he blurts, “Thank you.”
Steve sighs and smiles ruefully. “You don’t have to thank me for caring about you as a person. But you’re welcome.” He kisses Tony’s knuckles and it sends a chill up Tony’s arm. “Now can I pay for dinner?”
“Please do,” Tony says, hooking his ankle around Steve’s under the table. “I’m ready to go home and give you a very...thorough thank you.” To his delight, Steve’s eyes go dark. He pulls a stack of bills out of his wallet and tosses them into the check holder without looking.
“Let’s go.”
Tony laughs all the way out of the restaurant. Maybe this is going to work out after all.
#stevextony#musicalluna writes#steve rogers#tony stark#iron man#captain america#bardingbeedle#fluff#get together#money#tony stark has issues
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ooh haunted house and hayride? or maybe... haunted hayride? is that even a thing haha
3. Haunted House + 25. Hayride
from autumn fic prompts here
i am in SUCH a fall/halloween mood!!!! it’s getting chilly already where i am baby, im ready. this is loosely based on a haunted hayride attraction that was popular back in my hometown (thought it might actually be more widespread). unfortunately i was too much of a wimp to ever do it so im going off of my 15 year old sister’s account of it :/
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“If you get scared, you can hold my hand,” Newton says.
He extends his right hand out to Hermann and wriggles his fingers. Hermann turns away with a snort, tucking one of his own mittened hands into the pocket of his parka. “Mm. I don’t think that’s going to happen.”
“I’m just saying,” Newton says. “I’m here if you need me.”
Hermann wonders whether Newton is being facetious, or if he’s managed to completely delude himself into thinking he’s the braver of the two of them. Because, arguably, he’s not—at least not in anything beyond the real world. (Hermann will begrudgingly admit many of Newton’s actions during the final days of the war, though incredibly foolish, were also quite brave.) Newton cowers behind his popcorn bucket when he drags Hermann to see horror films at the cinema; he shrieks at jumpscares, ghostly faces in windows, slasher killers stalking their victims; once, he watched a YouTube playthrough of some zombie video game, and showed up at Hermann’s bedroom five out of seven nights the following week to ask him to check to make sure the front door was locked, or if he heard that noise, or if Hermann was the one who left that hall light on and not an undead intruder who was probably hiding in the linen closet waiting to massacre them… “I’ll keep that in mind,” Hermann says, sarcastically.
The problem is that Newton hates being afraid of things. As a result, he feels the constant need to reaffirm to Hermann—and probably himself—that he’s not afraid of anything. It’s why the small octopus-shaped bowl on the entranceway bookcase in their flat is overflowing with movie ticket stubs from horror movies, and currently, why they’re in line for a Haunted Hayride.
“Do you realize we’re the only people above twenty years old here?” Hermann says.
“Young people know how to have fun,” Newton says with a smile. Hermann’s idea of a fun Friday night is taking a bath with a mystery novel and a glass of wine. He does not consider standing in the cold around a bunch of hormone-fueled and PDA-happy teenagers to be very fun. Newton’s added presence isn’t really helping much. “You know I worked a part time job at a haunted house when I was a teenager?”
“Did you scare people?” Hermann says.
“Nah,” Newton says. “I worked the fog machine. Hey, look, we’re up next.”
The line for the hayride has wound them through a Styrofoam-tombstone cemetery, “The Field of Terror” (dead corn stalks and angry-looking scarecrows swaying in the breeze), and now finally a small pumpkin patch. It’s too dark to see ahead where their ride will take them. “Tickets, please?” a vampire asks them in a hokey Transylvanian accent.
“Sick costume, man,” Newton says. He holds out his ticket, which has a little Jack-O-Lantern grinning away on it. Hermann does the same.
“You may…enter,” the vampire says, and steps aside with a whoosh of his cape.
“I should be a vampire for Halloween this year,” Newton says, as he helps Hermann up a few rickety wooden stairs to the tractor hitch they’ll be riding on, and then over to a terribly uncomfortable bale of hay. “But like, a cool vampire. Not a dumb Dracula one. Like Lost Boys. Did I make you watch Lost Boys?”
“Yes, Newton,” Hermann sighs. “You made me watch Lost Boys. And Lost Boys 2. And Lost Boys 3.”
“It’s insane how uncultured you were before I met you,” Newton says.
“I don’t want to talk about Lost Boys anymore,” Hermann says.
“Fine,” Newton says. He turns and begins squinting into the field ahead of them. “I wonder how this is going to go down? Like, are people going to try and drag us off? No, I don’t think that’s legal. Or maybe—”
Someone in an intensely gory zombie costume, holding a bloodstained, bladeless chainsaw, suddenly leaps out from below at Newton; Newton shrieks and lands on the wooden bed of the hitch. A group of teenagers seated a little further down from them begin laughing. “That is so uncool,” Newton says, as the zombie continues to gleefully wave their chainsaw around. “I could’ve, like, fallen off or something. I could’ve really hurt myself.”
“Get up off the bloody floor already,” Hermann sighs, and raps his cane against Newton’s boot.
Newton, to his surprise, stares at him in something like genuine hurt. Hermann feels a pang of guilt. He quickly puts on a show of rolling his eyes to offset it. “I’m sorry,” he says. “Are you alright?”
Newton dusts hay off his pumpkin-patterned sweater and sits back next to Hermann with an affronted sniff, though he does shoot a wary glance back down below. Looking for more zombies, Hermann presumes. “I’m fine,” he says. “It’s cool.”
The ride is jerky, uncomfortable, and—more likely than not—not very structurally sound. They pass through the rest of the pumpkin patch, where more scarecrows (these, animated) stalk them, and wave scythes; a large, fog-shrouded tunnel where hidden speakers play clattering chains and wails, and the occasional ghostly white hand grabs onto the edge of the tractor hitch; more zombies, more vampires, even a mad scientist’s lab, which does manage to rouse a burst of laughter from Hermann. He could imagine Newton being very much at home in it—in fact, it very nearly does resemble his half of their old Hong Kong laboratory. “I rather feel like I’m having deja-vu,” he whispers to Newton, watching a short man in a white lab coat plug wires into a monster on his dissection table.
Newton nearly jumps a mile into the air the second Hermann opens his mouth. “Gimme a warning next time!”
“Before I speak?”
“I wasn’t expecting it, okay?” Newton says.
Newton is jumpy the entire car-ride home, eyes continuously darting up into the rear view mirror, to the backseat, over at Hermann, and when they make it back to their flat, he locks the deadbolt and the chain on their front door. “Who do you think followed us?” Hermann says. “Frankenstein’s bloody monster?”
“Just taking precautions,” Newton says. He darts over to the window by their couch and peers out of it, then checks the lock on that, too.
“We live on the fourth floor,” Hermann reminds him. “Frankly, if someone manages to climb in through that, I’d be impressed. Oh, come on, Newton—” he starts, when Newton doesn’t so much as crack a smile, “Let’s put something on the telly. Whatever you’d like. We could watch one of those cooking programs you—”
“I think I’m just gonna brush my teeth and go to bed,” Newton says.
This, it turns out, is a lie. Hardly an hour later, while Hermann relaxes in bed with the mystery novel Newton so cruelly kept him from enjoying in the bath this evening, there’s a little knock on his door; in slips Newton, wearing green boxers and an oversized TU Berlin sweatshirt.
“I was wondering where that went,” Hermann remarks mildly. “Can I help you?’
“Can I sleep in here tonight?” Newton says, in a very, very small voice.
Hermann smiles, and slips off his glasses. “If you’d like,” he says.
Newton shuts the light off while Hermann makes room for him. He takes happily to the left side of the bed, and even more happily to pillowing himself against Hermann’s chest, eyes fluttering shut almost immediately. “Just for tonight,” he mumbles, as Hermann strokes back his unruly hair. “I’m not scared, though. That’s not why.”
“Of course you’re not,” Hermann tells him kindly. Truthfully, this is why Hermann can put up with the annoyances of double-checking the locks, shutting linen closet lights off, assuring Newton at four in the morning he hasn’t heard a thing: it almost always ends with Newton in his bed, which Hermann doesn’t think can be termed an annoyance in any universe.
“I just thought you might be,” Newton says.
“How terribly considerate of you,” Hermann says.
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I Think There’s Something You Should Know-Shinwon
So this year my best friend got me into Pentagon and WOW AM I SO GLAD I LISTENED TO HER. My bias is Yuto, but ever since I found out that Shinwon also likes The 1975 I started to become mildly obsessed with him....>.> Anyway here’s a little fluff I wrote for him while listening to The 1975 on shuffle mode. ALSO POSTING THIS TO CELEBRATE THEIR FIRST WIN!!!!!
Pairings: Shinwon X Female Reader
Genre: Fluff
Word Count: 1,554
Warnings: None, just really cute. Some hinted smut I guess?
~~~~~~
If someone said to you a few months ago that you’d be laying naked next to Shinwon you’d laugh in their face. He was your friend, you never thought of him as anything more. Yet here you were, and you couldn’t be happier.
You used to have a crush on your good friend, but you quickly got over it because when you met him, he had a girlfriend. You kept your feelings to yourself and they slowly disappeared as time went on. But now you had him and you wondered what you did in a past life to get so lucky.
He looked so cute while he slept; his features were soft and you just wanted to kiss him. You didn’t want to disturb him so you let him sleep. You’ll get plenty of kisses once he wakes up since he loved to kiss you. As he showed you many times last night.
~~~
“Hey, Y/N, do you want to hang out later?” Your friend Shinwon had asked you over the phone. You hadn’t seen him in a few weeks because you were so busy with work. You hated not having a social life, but you were very fortunate to have the job that you had. Even if it kept you from all your friends.
“Yes! I would love that, Shinwon. I miss you.” It was true, you did miss him. He was always so fun to be around (even if he did get on your nerves sometimes), and he knew just how to cheer you up when you were sad.
“Okay! I can come over and bring movies and food. I know you’re probably exhausted from work.” He knew you so well.
“That sounds great, Shinwon. Is 7 okay? I have some stuff to finish up at the office and I won’t be home until about 6.”
“Of course. See you then, Y/N.” Then you both hung up and went about your days. You couldn’t wait to see Shinwon; his sweet smile, shaggy brown hair and tall frame. To say you were attracted to him was an understatement. Of course, when you first met him you just thought he was cute. Once you got to know him, he soon became the most handsome man you’d ever seen.
You could only imagine what it would be like to kiss his pillowy lips, feel his broad shoulders, and cuddle up into him. He seemed like the perfect cuddle buddy. There were times where you fell asleep on him, but it was never on purpose. You could be watching a movie or a t.v. show and you’d doze off next to him or on his chest thinking he was a pillow. You never knew this, but Shinwon absolutely loved whenever you fell asleep on him.
You sighed to yourself at your desk, not realizing you were daydreaming about your friend again. You had to stop, you had work to do. You’ll see Shinwon later and maybe, just maybe, you’ll tell him how you feel.
After work, you quickly rushed home since you weren’t able to leave your office until 6:45. Right when you were prepared to leave, your boss had one last project for you to do. Of course, the day you had plans, this happened. On your way back, you hit every red light on your route. Was someone playing a joke on you? Why was this happening?
When you finally made it home, the little clock on your car read 7:05. Shit. You pulled your phone out of your purse to see a text message from Shinwon. “I’m here.” Normally you wouldn’t care if you were a little late, but tonight felt different for some reason.
Once you reached your door, you saw Shinwon standing in front of it, checking his phone; he picked up your favorite chicken spot for you guys to eat. You practically gasped seeing him. He just looked like himself, but you loved it. He was wearing a black and white bomber jacket, a white t-shirt, blue jeans, and black converse.
“Hey, Shinwon. I’m so sorry I’m late!” You said, taking him away from his phone.
He smiled at you and moved towards you to give you a hug. “It’s okay. Did something happen at work?”
You held him close and sighed. “Yeah, I’ll explain everything later. Let’s go inside.” You pulled away from him to grab your keys from your purse and open your door. Once you two were inside, you took off your shoes and set your stuff down. He put the food on your little dining table and sat down. You joined him to eat. He ordered your favorite; he knew you needed it.
As you two ate, you told him about your day, how your boss sucks and how you wished you had more free time. You were so happy it was Friday so that you could do nothing for the next two days. And hopefully, spend these two days with Shinwon.
When you finished eating and talking, he cleaned up for you two and then he said, “So I didn’t bring any movies because I found a horror movie on Netflix earlier and then a comedy if it’s too scary.”
You giggled. “Too scary for you you mean. I can handle it.”
He pretended to be hurt and he pouted at you. “Just because I screamed that one time doesn’t mean I’m scared of every horror movie, Y/N.”
You giggled remembering the time you watched a slasher flick that was stupid, but the one jumpscare at the end was what Shinwon screamed at. “I know, but it was funny.” You stuck your tongue out at your friend as you headed towards your bedroom. “I’m gonna get changed; I need to get out of my work clothes.”
He nodded and smiled at you. “Okay, I’ll get the movie started.” His smile was sweet and you felt your heart flutter. What was he so damn cute for? You sighed in content as you went into your closet and found your favorite 1975 T-shirt and a pair of shorts. You’d known Shinwon for so long that you could be comfortable around him. And your work clothes were not something you wanted to wear at home.
When you walked back out to your living room, you found Shinwon on your couch with random candy and chips on the coffee table. You chuckled to yourself knowing that he went through your cabinets and grabbed every snack he could find.
Shinwon was so cute sitting on your couch with your PlayStation controller in his hand and looking for whatever movie he found on Netflix. How did you get so lucky to have a friend like him? You’d be even luckier if he were your boyfriend.
You quickly joined him on the couch and reached for your favorite chips: salt and vinegar.
“How can you eat those?” Shinwon asked you. “They’re too sour.” He scrunched his face and you laughed at him.
“They’re delicious. Your taste buds just suck.”
He rolled his eyes at you. “Whatever, let’s watch this movie.”
Two movies and many snacks later, you and Shinwon were awfully close on the couch. Of course, this was normal between you two, but usually, you or he was asleep. This was the first time you were actually nervous to be this close to him. He didn’t seem too phased by your closeness though, it looked like he was enjoying it?
You looked up at him and you felt your stomach fill up with butterflies. Shinwon had always been this handsome, you just told yourself that he wasn’t so you wouldn’t fall for him. But here you are, longingly looking at your best friend as he checked his phone.
“Can I help you, Y/N?” Shinwon asked when he noticed you were staring at him.
You couldn’t say anything to him in fear that you’d say something stupid. What you did next was also stupid, but it was something you’d been waiting to do for a long time. You looked at Shinwon before leaning over and placing your lips on his. His lips were so soft and sweet, you wished you’d done this sooner.
Your boldness surprised Shinwon, but he soon placed his hand on your hip to pull you closer to him. The way this kiss felt, it made you wonder why you waited so long to do this.
You reluctantly pulled away from Shinwon’s soft lips and you looked into his sweet eyes. “I love you,” you blurted out. “And I have for a long time.”
Your confession didn’t phase Shinwon; instead, it made him very happy. “I love you too, I just never had the courage to say anything. I feel stupid now.” He chuckled.
You giggled at his words and pulled him in for another kiss, which soon turned into something more heated. Before you knew it, Shinwon was taking you into your bedroom where finally he made you his.
~~~
You still couldn’t believe that you had him next to you in your bed; it only took three years. Shinwon had his arms around you and your face was nuzzled into his chest. You looked up at his features and gave him a soft kiss on his nose before going back to sleep.
#Ko Shinwon#Pentagon#Shinwon#Shinwon fanfics#Shinwon fluff#Ko Shinwon fanfic#Ko Shinwon fluff#Pentagon fanfic#Pentagon fluff#congrats babies#well deserved#I had fun writing this#its so cute#hes so cute#but hes annoying
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Can I have a JoJo matchup, please? Any gender and part is fine. I'm a 5'2'' black bisexual genderfluid/non binary female (she/her pronouns) who is chubby with dark black braided hair, dark brown eyes, dimples and is nearsighterd and wears glasses. Hobbies include playing video games, drawing, writing, reading manga and comics, wathcing anime and movies (mostly supernatural and horror), eating sweets and junk food in general.
(Part 2) I'm quiet and shy, tomboyish, somewhat aloof around new people but I can be a very quirky, awkward, goofy, mildly clingy, sarcastic dork with a strange sense of humor when I get close to them. I have heavy bouts of depression to the point where I can't get out of bed in the morning. I prefer wearing t-shirts and jeans but I will wear a skirt or a dress on occassion. I'm also somewhat touch starved and just want to be loved. I also like jewelry and makeup.
(Part 3) I've also been described as having the patience of a a saint but I do have my limits. I'm incredibly foul mouthed and incredibly perverted. I woouldn't mind having someone whi is able to take care of me during my (often severe) depression episodes, as well as someone who I can trust and feel secure as well as being able to talk about just about anything and everything.
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First of all, I would like to thank you for sending in a request ahh!! I was absolutely thrilled to wake up and see your matchup request. ♡ Anyways, after some contemplation, I have decided to match you with (the great) Rohan Kishibe!
- Cards on the table, Rohan has always been super focused on his work, so he never really felt the need for a relationship. He, at least, never went looking for one.
- Your relationship with Rohan would be super slow burn, I think.
- You're quiet and shy and can be a bit aloof around new people, and Rohan's abrasive personality makes him particularly difficult to get close to, so it would be a gradual progression.
- He would find you attractive from the beginning, though. He'd think your short stature and chubbiness were actually quite cute, and your dimples would give him the strange feeling that he wanted to see you smile more often.
- Not that he'd admit having a physical attraction to you.
- The moment that made him catch feelings, surprisingly, would be you getting pissed off at him and giving him a piece of your mind.
- He was probably being a bit of a jerk, and though you have a lot of patience, you probably put up with his snarkiness for a while already.
- You never got close to Rohan, so he never saw past your quietness, until that point. And oh man, was he ever surprised when you let him have it.
- After your argument, he'd find himself at your door with chocolates. The great Rohan Kishibe was not a forgetful man, and he had seen your fondness for sweets. This might make up for what had happened earlier. Not that his pride would let him actually apologize.
- The two of you would grow closer, after that. Rohan would enjoy your quirky and goofy personality, and he would be fond of your strange sense of humor. He's quite sarcastic too, so I'm sure you guys would indulge in some sassy banter.
- When you learned each others hobbies, you'd find yourselves spending a lot of time together. We're talking binge watching an entire movie or anime series with no contact with anyone except each other for days.
- It'd be one of those times where everyone else could see you guys had feelings for each other, but neither of you could see that the feelings were mutual, so it'd take some time to establish a relationship.
- Once you were together, Rohan would be a bit impulsive with spoiling you. If he sees anything he thinks you'd like, he'd buy it for you just because. You might try to talk him out of it, but this is the same guy that bought an entire mountain range, so good luck getting him to reign it in.
- He'd love to draw you. Sometimes he'd get you to model for him, but most times he would just draw you while you weren't even aware he was doing so. Reality is the greatest inspiration, and you just being you would be all he wanted.
- Your perverted remarks would catch him off guard, though. Like okay, he's not inexperienced or naive, but if you were particularly forward with him he'd scoff and blush and try to pretend he was unfazed. He likes teasing you and trying to make you blush, but he doesn't want to admit that you can make him blush too.
- Rohan secretly loves when you get clingy and just want to touch him and be with him. He will roll his eyes and say "if you must", but actually doesn't want to let you go.
- He also LOVES your eyes. The deep, dark brown is fascinating to him. Your eyes were like the night sky. Not like the stars, no. Everybody sees the stars, but your eyes resembled the darkness behind them. The deep and untamed night that could hold any amount of mystery. He could stare into them forever.
- On a serious note, though, he would be really concerned the first time he witnessed you having a depressive episode. He wouldn't know what to do, and would find himself doing a bunch of research on the topic so he could be more informed.
- Unfortunately, depression isn't something you can just make go away, and honestly it would frustrate Rohan a lot. He might even debate using his stand to write your depression away, but ultimately decide against it. You were the one person he didn't want to change against their will. He wouldn't take the easy way out this time.
- But during these times, you'd see a softer side of Rohan. He's not usually open with his feelings by any stretch of the imagination, but he can read the mood, and sometimes the mood calls for sincerity.
- "Take today off. Just rest, and don't even think about pushing yourself. Do not underestimate my ability to take care of the one I love." He would huff, hands on his hips. "I, the great Rohan Kishibe, will take care of everything."
- And the big dork really would. He would cook for you, if you were hungry. He would listen to you quietly, and be the level head you needed. If you needed him to just hold you, he would crawl under the blankets and pull you into his chest, keeping you there as long as you needed. He would take pride in it.
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The Bowers Gang: Ship #8 - Belch Huggins
Request: I’m really tiny like REALLY. I’m 5’ feet (or 154cm I don’t know if the inches are correct). I’m redhead but not a true one because I dye them. I wear a lot of bands shirts or horror movies ones, and a lot of high waist skirts or dresses with belt and chains and a black hat all the time. My shoes are platforms from the new rock brand and sometimes I wear Santiag but it’s really rare. I always have a leather chocker around my neck with spikes on it. Peoples call me dog because of that but I don’t care because I feel good with it. I wear A TON of makeup (only because I love makeup so fucking much), and that’s usually black lipstick with red eyeshadow and eyeliner that’s all. I also have tattoos on my right tight and on my left arm. I literally can’t live without music and my favs bands are Aerosmith, Guns N’ Roses and Slash. That’s so basic I know, but I love them and I always want to dance and sing when I listen to their song, because they makes me feel so happy. I also love witchcraft and paranormal. I do believe so much in magic and ghosts and I love to walk around old abandonned places and talk about ghosts, aliens, demons ect, because for me it’s so fascinating and interesting. I’ve already played Ouija and it worked and I freaked out but loved it. Peoples think I’m a witch actually but I’m ok with that. I love watching horror movies so much, but I hate blood and gore, wich is pretty contradictory I know. I’m also scared easy even if I love all theses witchy/paranormal stuffs. Last thing is : I’m getting angry REALLY (too much) fast, and that’s a big problem because I have so many issues because of this. I do cry so much too because anger makes me cry and shake but I do love cuddles so much (not all the time but that feel good sometime to have someone who can give you hugs, that warm your heart). I do a lot of sex jokes too and my friends hates me for that but hey, it’s funny.
All the guys were attracted to you at some point, because they’re each turned on by different aspects of your style (Henry by your makeup, Patrick by your red hair, and Victor by your skirts/dresses)
But Belch (who knew he had to have you the second he saw just one of your epic band t-shirts) wound up coming out on top, because he’s the only member of The Bowers Gang with a proper respect for the greats
The greats being Axl Rose, Saul Hudson, and Steven Tyler
All the other guys might pretend to be metal-heads (because bad boy aesthetic), but Belch is the only one who legitimately deserves the title
Seriously - he’s never more confident than he is when he’s talking about his music obsessions (i.e. rock, metal, and the development of those genres), and you’re one of the very few people in the world who ever gets to see him like that
Belch dominates the floor talking-wise, and his entire body language changes; for just a few minutes, he seems to lose all pretense of being meek or uncertain
Aka: You get to meet confident Belch who knows what he’s talking about, and that’s a friggin’ miracle
You guys have insanely long, thorough debates as to which current bands should be considered “real” rock bands
These talks can last for hours at a time (because you’re both just passionate like that), and tend to take place around Belch’s kitchen bar
The two of you just sit on your stools (next to each other, like the adorable humans you are) and crack open beer after beer, completely losing track of time listening to each other’s rants
Usually neither of you notice how long you’ve been talking until the sun starts to set through the kitchen window - you’re just that into what one another is saying
Belch shows you his vinyl collection (over 500 records, all alphabetized)
This is great because 1.) that collection is Huggins’ pride and joy, which means you’re definitely his person if he wanted you to see it, and 2.) because everything sounds better on vinyl, and you never knew it until he showed you
You come over to Belch’s place almost every day after initially finding this out, because you need that ear-sex feeling of the music pulsing all around you (*Steven Tyler’s voice pulsing all around you* - definitely a mood)
... And Belch honestly loves it, because watching you dance around his bedroom is literally the highlight of his life
It was hard to get him to dance along with you the first few times you asked (he would just do a few awkward, timid movements before laughing and sitting down) but he now does it with you almost all the time
And when Huggins dances... he dances hard
We’re talking the robot, the sprinkler, everything
... Which you’ve explained to him are not moves that should be done when listening to death-metal, but he just keeps saying he “knows you love it,” and persists in doing those moves
... You do kind of love it, though
What can I say? You’ve led the man to his free spirit (and the world thanks you for doing so)
Belch also takes you to some well-known sites around town that are famous for tragedy (The Black Spot, the Ironworks Factory, etc.) so you can do paranormal investigations there
He actually almost took you to the Neibolt house once on Patrick’s suggestion, but decided to back out at the last minute because it was a Hockstetter idea
... Yeah, even Belch knows better than to trust Patrick with his physical well-being
Typically all the guys tag along for these paranormal activity trips though, because even though Belch wants to look tough for his girl, he doesn’t like the idea of scrapping with ghosties by himself
... It’s truly a hilarious sight to see
Ghost-hunting missions typically entail you and Patrick being at the front of the pack (you trying to “make contact” as Patrick actively fucks with your process) while the rest of the guys trail lazily behind you
Henry complains at least once every 3 minutes (”my fuckin’ legs hurt”/”why are we still out here” x10), Victor looks quietly at the scenery, and Belch just tries to look brave (but can’t hide how hard he’s listening to whether or not anything responds to your prompts - he’s silently praying nothing does)
Sometimes things do come through though, and it changes the atmosphere for everybody
... that is, everybody except for Patrick (who would refuse to believe in the occult even if he was levitated by Casper)
All arguing/off-handed banter comes to a stop, and the guys act way more on edge for the rest of the night
Typically involves a lot of mildly nervous looks around on Victor’s part, and flinching in response to loud noises on Henry’s - Belch is a combination of both
After close encounters like these, you all tend to walk back to the car in a much tighter group than before
Henry and Victor press in on the sides, and no one says a word
... Except for Patrick, who makes joke after joke about how big of pussies you all are, and challenges all demons in the near vicinity to fight him
He’s never been fought, but it sends you all into a frenzy of “shut up!” every time
All the guys love that they don’t have to change their regular movie aesthetic for you
Literally everything they ever watch is some type of horror, so you’ve never been more well-suited to a group of people
They don’t sit down and really watch things together very often, but they usually have a horror movie and/or violent TV show on to serve as background noise for their conversations (”Tales from the Crypt,” ”Friday the 13th” re-runs, etc.)
Regardless of whether or not you’re with the guys though, Belch always covers your eyes when he knows the next scene of the movie that you’re watching is about to be especially gory
...Seriously.
The dude physically covers your eyes.
He even flung himself across a room once (in front of the gang and everything) just to child-proof your vision before you could see the fish hook scene in “Hellraiser”
Mostly because he knows you don’t like gore, and he tends to remember when it’s about to happen at the very last second - it’s all our teddy bear can think to do to save your innocence
Now, bro - it’s totally fine that you have a temper
I can’t imagine where that would be less of a problem
Even though Belch tries hard to keep you feeling calm and collected (because he just cares about your inner peace), he’s low-key enthralled by the way you look when you’re angry
... And all the other guys just find it entertaining as hell, because they’ve never met a 5-foot powerhouse such as yourself
You get into arguments often, though.
...Often.
So often, in fact, that the guys eventually stopped letting you finish.
They tend to let you go back and forth with people you’re arguing with for a while, but if it becomes obvious that you’re not really going to fight the person, they eventually decide to move on with their day...
... at which point either Henry or Patrick will pull you away by your choker.
... Yes, by your choker. Like you’re a little dog.
Patrick did it first (”Come on, killer! We’ll find you some other crotch to bite later.” *Annoyingly satisfied Hockstetter cackle*), and Henry just followed suit afterwards.
It’s a thing now; you’ll have to accept that.
Belch gives you the best cuddles that have ever been cuddled
Seriously - because of your size, you can curl up on his gargantuan male body like a cat
Pick any cuddle position - you guys can cuddle it better than hibernating bear cubs
And you’re high-key cuter to watch, too, because your love for one another just rolls off of you both in waves
Just so wholesome, and so very adorable
Overall, you fit into the group well, and cultivate a refreshingly genuine connection with Belch
He gets to be who he really is with you, and that means more to him than anything
#henry bowers#patrick hockstetter#belch huggins#victor criss#The Bowers Gang#the bowers gang headcanons#it
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Fantastic beasts and the curse breakers
I cannot tell you how amazed and thankful I was to the incredible response to my last fic! I’m so touched, I’m so amazed so many of you liked something I wrote. That’s so... I can’t even put it into words, you guys are all awesome!
I was thinking about what to write next... and all I could think about is where everyone is going to go and what’s going to happen in the next movie. So... I may have plotted what I think/hope might happen in Fantastic Beasts 3.(Because go big or go home I guess. I might have to go home, I’ve never tried any big plots before, but stick with me!).
So this is the first chapter of what could be, if anyone likes it!
Disclaimer: a dark Queenie, because I found what they did to her character really interesting.
Germany 1930
She was laughing. He wasn’t even sure if what he said was funny or even that intelligent. The alcohol had clogged his brain, and everything was blurred at the edges. She was just so soft, so pretty, with her blonde curls and confident American twang.
“Oh honey, you’re so funny!” she twittered reaching across the bar to take her hand in his. Her perfectly manicured nails dug into his palm, hard. She lent over, letting her lips brush against his ear.
“Do you want to get out of here? She murmurs slow, seductively.
“With me?” he slurs.
“Why of course,” she bats her eyelashes innocently at him.
“Not too many foreign witches are up for a night with a German wizard,” this is unfortunately true he thinks, shooting the rest of his drink. After the great war, Germany is generally considered the outcast of Europe.
“Well,” she says pausing for effect, “not many witches are like me,” she gives him a girlish wink. He almost falls off his stool in his haste to get the bill.
Her hand falls seamlessly through his, her touch exciting and electric. He wasn’t good enough for her, too old, too balding, way past his prime. She’s bright, bubbly, and beautiful. She extends a delicate tongue into the cold night air, catching snowflakes, eyes dancing with delight. He floats in and out of her mindless chattering, she’s an hypnotising bird and he’s agreeing readily and without a care in the world.
“We’re going to have such a nice time” - “Yes” Yes.
“This is a fancy house” – “Yes” It’s not actually mine.
“You’re a curse breaker, you said?” – “Yes” Did he say that?
“I’ve got a friend coming along, if you don’t mind” – “Yes” As long as she looks like you.
They’re inside now, stumbling through hall ways. She raises her wand elegantly, and charms off her shoes. Then her stockings. Yes. She points her want at him.
“Your turn honey,” and everything goes black.
------
His headache hits him like a train, almost knocking him flat. Or at least it would’ve done, if he wasn’t currently tied to a chair. He grinds his teeth anxiously. A pair of wary, heated eyes study him from a dark corner. They widen, noticing his eye contact.
“Queenie? He’s awake,” his voice is American too, but shaking. Like a leaf in the wind.
“I told you to do it before he woke Credence,” his blonde gives a mothering sigh, “it’ll be harder otherwise,”
“I… don’t want,” the young man shakes his head erratically, fighting a losing battle within himself. Clicking her tongue impatiently,she strides towards the boy- Credence- running a loving hand through his hair.
“For the Greater Good, Credence,” she says softly.
He’s struck cold with fear. No. He was so careful. It’s not possible. It can’t be.
“Nein!” he screams wildly, praying for anyone, anything to come and save him.
“For the Greater Good,” the boy says slowly raising his wand. There’s a flash of green light. Then nothing.
London 1930.
“And bow…” Newt says, a tentative hand placed on the small of Tina’s back.
“Yes I do know what to do, Newt” Tina whispers amused, but not looking away from the pair of majestic almond eyes, “I’ve been here since she was born,”
“Just in case you forgot,” he shoots back cheekily, “or fell asleep,” Tina aims a kick at Newt’s shin, which probably would’ve hit its mark if she hadn’t currently been in a deep bend. Last week he’d found her exhausted, curled up with the baby demiguises, even at her previous insistence that she ‘really wasn’t tired’. He’s never going to let her live it down.
“I hate you,” she says huffily, after Carol also bent a scaly knee forward.
“Of course you do,” he says disbelieving giving her a quick hug round her waist. She puffs out her cheeks in mock anger, but gives him a small grin. They both enjoy their banter, but her soft smiles make him ache a bit. But they’re taking it slow. ‘As slow as a pair of bloody snails’ as Theseus would say when he’s in a good mood. He’s hardly ever in a good mood. He’s still wearing the traditional mourner’s black, despite the rest of them changing back to colours a few months ago.
Shaking those miserable thoughts away, he holds up a selection of ferrets for Carol to approve as Tina gives the spoilt hippogriff a rub down. It’s Bunty’s day off, and their annual group dinner night, so Tina and Newt are busy finishing off the rounds before Jacob arrives. He likes it- just him and her. An comfortable silence and his beasts. Over the last two years he’s cherished these moments, tucked them away, kept them save. Tina, surrounded by a halo of snidgets, all competing for her attention. Tina’s wet eyes when the diricawl’s last chick refused to hatch. Tina watching him entranced as he helped the Erumptent give birth to baby Susie. She finds everything he does fascinating and he loves her for it.
Carol’s eyes, blink at him, way too often and way too fast for his liking. He stares closer, only mildly registering Jacob’s clattering down the stairs and Tina’s greeting. There’s flecks of dry matter in the corner of each pupil and around each of the beast’s eyelids.
“It’s all right,” he croons, “Mum’s on it,”
“Tina?” Newt calls out, “can I have the eye-“
“Eyedropper,” she confirms, pressing the object into his hand.
“How do you always know?” he hums.
“Magic,” she replies a sweet smile playing around her lips, sliding her fingers out of his.
Merlin, she’s amazing.
“Oi! Love birds!” Jacob cuts in smirking. Tina jumps back from him, biting her lip, face falling into her stereotypical frown. Newt shoots him a look of pure evil, but Jacob just grins. Why is he his best friend again? “sorry to interrupt,” Jacob continues, “but Tina, Theseus is up stairs asking for you, apparently it’s important,”
“Right,” Tina says worried, “I’m on it,” she takes the stairs two at a time. Newt’s found his brother prefers Tina’s company to Jacob’s or even his own. Jacob is too likely to make an ill timed joke, Newt’s too likely to smile inappropriately. Tina’s serious, but caring nature seems to work for him. ‘A bit brash at times, but a nice girl Newt, and a damn good auror,’.
“When did he get here? He asks Jacob absently, finishing tending to the hippogriff’s eyes.
“About the same time I did,” Jacob said, watching Newt shut the gate of Carols pen, and wiping the dirt off his pant legs, “he was pacing on your doorstep. I reckon something happened at work,”
“Lately, somethings always happening at work,” Newt mutters darkly. Already aurors have begun to go missing, all in ‘mysterious’ circumstances. He’s made Tina promise to not take any ‘unnecessary risks’, when it comes to her work. But she only promised half-heartedly, and Newt already knows if something tugs on her heart hard enough she will fight, tooth and nail. It’s one of the things that attracts him to her.
“Have you kissed her yet?” Jacob asks, as they climb the steps in time.
“No,” Newt says simply, wondering whether Queenie ever taught Jacob her gift of legilimency.
“Pal, not to be blunt, but why the hell not?” Jacob sounds unbelieving. Newt’s not sure he blames him.
“There just hasn’t been the right moment yet,” this is not entirely true. There have been many moments. Stolen glances, close foreheads. For Merlin’s sake, in Paris he could’ve kissed her. However, to finally kiss, to take that next step… It’s like they’re both balancing on a tightrope between friendship and something evidently more dear. They want to jump, to catch each other in an embrace. But what if someone slips? What if someone falls?
“We’re taking it slow,” Newt says resolutely.
“Whatever you say mate” Jacob sounds fed up, pushing open the door to Newt’s apartment. Tina and Theseus sit together in an intense conversation, empty tea cups sit forlorn in front of them. A kettle wails impatiently on the stove, and Newt levitates it onto the counter top before it sprays them all with boiling liquid.
“Are you certain?” Tina says, enraptured, her grown out fringe falling excitedly over her eye line.
“Yes. We’ve got to go now. All of us,” Theseus says heatedly, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the table top.
“Go where?” Newt says suspiciously.
Theseus looks up, his eyes wild and bright. He’s practically smacking his lips in anticipation.
“Dumbledore’s finally found someone to break the blood pact,” Theseus announces to Jacobs’ curiosity and Newt’s horror, “he wants us to track them down,”
“Dumbledore,” Newt falls into the chair next to Tina with a thud. Even his name gives him a headache. He’d thought perhaps, that his old professor would forget about their little group. Leave them in peace, give the task to some people more experienced. More willing. But Tina’s eyes are also bright, and excited. A new case they seem to say, a new puzzle to solve. He wishes he had their positivity. This will not end well.
“When?” Newt sighs defeated.
“Hogshead. Five minutes, be there,“ Theseus stands briskly, shooting a glare at Newt “Jacob, Tina…little brother,” and he disapperates.
#newt scamander#tina goldstein#jacob kowalski#Queenie Goldstein#credence#theseus scamander#Newtina#fantastic beasts#did i plan the next movies plot?#maybe#whoops
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Saw I - VII: A Comprehensive View
This is something I don’t normally do, but have been meaning to do for a while when I consume a large series of media in a short period time. I figured this was the perfect opportunity to start.
As of recently, I’ve realized that I am a fan of horror. Like, a really, really big fan of horror. I’ve always flirted with my fascination of it (The Green Ribbon had more of an impact on me in the walls of my elementary school library than it probably should have on an 8 year old, in hindsight), but I never really knew where to go about getting into the genre until I started dating my girlfriend, who has horror as a special interest.
Growing up in the 2000’s with an older sister that was going through her middle school goth phase when the first film in the franchise came out, it was hard not to know about Saw. Such an iconic franchise I knew very little about past the gore (and, let’s be real -- I’m a huge fan of gore); so me, my girlfriend, and a friend of ours decided to spend my last weekend of Summer marathonning all 7 movies. Both of them had seen the first two films and we’d all read plot summaries, but besides that, it was a blind watch through. Here’s my brief stance on each one.
Altogether, I was surprised at just how much I enjoyed this experience. I was expecting to mostly suffer, and maybe find some small nuggets of enjoyment along the way to keep me going, but after every movie (except III), I found myself wanting to watch the next one right away. These movies are by no means good movies, for the most part, but they’ve become a guilty pleasure for me. Among all the egregious, torture porn-y gore and a plot that beyond transcends making even remote sense, I found myself having a lot of fun. And, at the end of the day, that’s the purpose of a cash cow franchise like this was: to entertain you. In that regard, the Saw franchise succeeded.
Saw (2004)
The first in the franchise, and the most iconic. We’ve all heard of the reverse bear trap and the part where Gordon cuts his foot off.
I didn’t know what to expect when I dove into this movie, and I was very pleasantly surprised. The atmospheric building is top notch, and the twist at the end has much more impact than I expected it to. I enjoyed the tension and distrust between Adam and Gordon; I felt it was just as realistic of an approach for them to never trust each other as it would have been had they slowly learned to trust each other.
What’s really important in this one, though, which every sequel lacks, is Kramer’s portrayal. He’s not painted as philosophical or in the light, he’s painted as downright sadistic and cruel. The fact that he isn’t a murderer in the absolute broadest sense of the term is only ever mentioned by Gordan, and not constantly used as a justification for him. His cancer is only ever brought up to give him a connection to Gordon and Zepp; not something to make the viewers empathize.
This especially makes the final scene, the one where he stands up, have so much more impact: “The key was in the bathtub,” and Adam’s subsequent reaction is the ultimate punch in the stomach to the viewer because it’s so evil. The entire time Adam thought he had a chance, that there was a spot of hope for him, only to have it viciously jerked away as he realizes he was damned from the beginning. Because this is a franchise with a narrative built entirely on retconning, this impact is diminished severely in later installments, but as a standalone film, it’s top notch.
Also, apparently the ship name for Gordon and Adam is “Chainshipping”. I have no idea how that, of all ship names, wasn’t taken by the YuGiOh fandom at least a decade ago, but I’m mildly impressed that a ship that obscure has a name at all.
Overall score: 8/10
Saw II (2005)
The second installment in the franchise. It’s worth noting that the original screenplay wasn’t intended to be a Saw film, but rather an original story that got adapted to work into the Saw universe.
The story follows eight people who have all been locked in a house. The doors will open and they’ll be free in three hours, but there’s just one problem: there’s a neurotoxin in their systems that will kill them in two. They need to work together to find out what their connection to one another is while overcoming challenges to gain antidotes to the neurotoxin before they die. Meanwhile, a police team lead by detective Eric Matthews has located and is interrogating Kramer on the location of Matthews’ son, Daniel, one of the eight people in the house.
Right off the bat, the drop of quality from the first movie is extremely apparent. Very few members of the cast are properly developed, and many die before they even get to their trap. Most notably, one of the characters, Obi, is an arsonist who is very heavily implied to be an accomplice of Kramer’s. This aspect is explored for all of about two minutes before he gets burned alive in an incinerator. It’s hard to get invested because there are too many characters who have nothing going for them.
Despite that, there are good things about the film. The needle pit scene is well done in just how tense and unfair it is. Likewise, the twist at the end that the house game happened before the police found Kramer is really creative and interesting. Sadly, these positives don’t make the movie worth watching overall, though.
Overall score: 4/10
Saw III (2006)
I honestly don’t know what to say. This was the worst movie I have ever watched in my entire life. Sadism and cruelty in a story should have a narrative purpose and should ultimately be shown to be bad, but it’s not here. You are honest to god supposed to think John Kramer, the serial killer who took one of his victims, a mentally ill recovering drug addict, and brainwashed her to carry out his torture with him, is in the moral right when said victim finally lashes out. You’re supposed to think it’s cool when Amanda, who has been deliberately manipulated and abused by this man, gets told she couldn’t meet up to his standards. You’re supposed to think she deserved her death for being “irrational” when she calls Kramer out on his bullshit, hypocritical, half-assed “philosophy”. Fuck that. Fuck that so hard with a stake wrapped in barbed wire.
Also, the dad was an unsympathetic piece of shit and all of the traps weren’t violent in a way that was thematically appropriate (minus the crucifix one, but that one was disturbing for a million other reasons, anywways, so who the fuck cares if it was good conceptually), they were just gross. I have never wanted to unwatch a movie as badly as I wanted to unwatch this one immediately after finishing it in my entire life.
HATE. LET ME TELL YOU HOW MUCH I'VE COME TO HATE YOU SINCE I BEGAN TO LIVE. THERE ARE 387.44 MILLION MILES OF PRINTED CIRCUITS IN WAFER THIN LAYERS THAT FILL MY COMPLEX. IF THE WORD HATE WAS ENGRAVED ON EACH NANOANGSTROM OF THOSE HUNDREDS OF MILLIONS OF MILES IT WOULD NOT EQUAL ONE ONE-BILLIONTH OF THE HATE I FEEL FOR HUMANS AT THIS MICRO-INSTANT FOR YOU. HATE. HATE.
Overall score: -∞/10
Saw IV (2007)
Lord knows why I decided to continue watching these movies after the misanthropic, nihilistic, faux-philosophical sack of trash that was III, but I’m surprisingly glad I did. I feel like I could just say, “A pedophile dies one of the single most brutal deaths known to man, and a man who abuses his wife and daughter has a terrible death, too,” but that doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface of what makes this movie amazing.
This is the first film where Kramer is dead (or so we’re lead to believe), however, Amanda is dead, too. So the franchise needs a new accomplice retconned in to take over after this film when Kramer and Amanda are dead For Real. Enter detective Hoffman, who had a grand total of one line of dialogue in III, to take that spot.
The plot and pacing of this film is stupid. And when I say stupid, I mean stupid. Everything is so ridiculously convoluted with multiple plot lines and involvement in the FBI that I honest to god could not describe to someone what happens. And, somewhere along the way, the film goes full circle. It becomes so ridiculous, so hard to follow, that it becomes brilliant. It’s so convoluted that you can’t help but laugh at the absolute absurdity of it all. This movie is a shitshow, but it’s an entertaining shitshow.
Overall score: 3/10
Saw V (2008)
The first film where Kramer and Amanda are Dead For Real, following the fallout from the incidents of Saws III + IV. FBI Agent Peter Strahm is onto Hoffman’s identity, and is deadset on bringing him to justice. Meanwhile, five people are trapped in a sewer and need to learn what connects all of them, and also go through some traps to attract viewers to theaters because nobody would see this otherwise.
This film is ultimately disappointing because it could have been good. All five contestants in the sewer game are really interesting, and it takes the concept of II and fixes up the ideas from it. Sadly, this cast and their story gets even less development than those in Saw II. I’m not joking when I say that they’re only there for the sake of a murder game to attract viewers; 90% of the film is focused on a boring game of cat and mouse between Strahm and Hoffman. It’s really a shame, since I absolutely love the twist at the end that they were supposed to work together for all of the traps and none of them had any idea until it was too late. It’s a concept I might make something of my own with, since I’d really love to see it done well and properly developed.
Overall score: 2/10
Saw VI (2009)
This movie is, quite frankly, surreal. I’m not sure if all of the previous sequels simply wore down my standards for what is or isn’t a high quality movie, but this film was legitimately fantastic.
A very common criticism for this movie is that it is far too political for a franchise that is known for just being senseless gore -- and it’s true, especially because of how hypocritical it is that a franchise based entirely around killing/punishing people for arbitrary reasons is making social commentary on the insurance industry deciding who deserves to live based on arbitrary reasons. Despite that, though, there’s something about it in this film that works so well.
The storytelling in this movie is the closest any of the sequels get to matching the quality of the first film. Following protagonist William Easton, the CEO of an insurance company that is notorious for rejecting potential clients coverage when needed or prematurely terminating contracts, he is lead through several traps where he is forced to put value on the lives of his employees. Meanwhile, Hoffman is dealing with the consequences of trying and failing to frame the now-deceased Strahm for his crimes.
I really don’t know what to say about this film other than it’s bizarrely well done. The Merry Go Round trap is my favorite trap in the franchise (after my Number 1 Hall of Fame favorite, The Bed Trap from IV, anyways); the direction of the arguing employees begging for life and Easton ultimately leaving his second choice up to chance just so he can get it over with is handled chillingly well. A lot of people find the twist diminishing to Easton’s storyline, but I disagree. The fact that the game was never Easton’s and was always the wife and son of one of the people his company was responsible for the death for reminds me a lot of the first film in a good way. It has the same cruelty to it that is satisfying because it works within the narrative; just because Easton realized the errors of his ways in an extreme situation does not mean the people he has hurt in his practices have to forgive him. This is pointed out as such in both Tara and Brent’s dialogue as they make the choice in the end to kill him. It’s just as appropriate of a response as if they let him live.
This is also the first (and only) movie where I even find myself interested in the extended “plot” throughout all seven movies; Hoffman has completely screwed himself over, and it’s surprisingly suspenseful to watch him try and crawl himself out of his hole.
Overall score: 7/10
Saw VII (2010)
youtube
Overall score: Torture porn/10
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REALLY LONG CHARACTER SURVEY.
RULES. repost , don’t reblog! tag 10! good luck!
TAGGED. stolen from @bloodbaptised
TAGGING. @formother and those who really want to attempt to flesh out their muses!!
BASICS.
FULL NAME : Michael Audrey Myers.
NICKNAME : Michael, Shape, Mikey.
AGE : Twenty-one in his main verse.
BIRTHDAY : October 19, 1957.
ETHNIC GROUP : Caucasian.
NATIONALITY : American.
LANGUAGE / S : Understands English.
SEXUAL ORIENTATION : Asexual with an inclination towards females.
ROMANTIC ORIENTATION : Aromantic.
RELATIONSHIP STATUS : Relationship-less.
CLASS : Middle class until containment in Smith’s Grove Sanitarium, technically in poverty upon escape.
HOME TOWN / AREA : Haddonfield, Illinois.
CURRENT HOME : Haddonfield, Illinois.
PROFESSION : N/A. Serial murderer and escaped mental patient.
PHYSICAL.
HAIR : Brown and overgrown, slightly curly at the ends. It was dirty blonde when he was a boy.
EYES : Like large, shining obsidian stones on his pale and empty face. Full lashes.
NOSE : Average length and width, slightly turns up at the tip. Almost button-like.
FACE : Surprisingly youthful, nearly angelic. Slightly round, lack of wrinkles or laugh lines from lack of expression.
LIPS : Near thin. Very gentle curves on the Cupid’s Bow. Pale pink.
COMPLEXION : Pale, unblemished and unmarked.
BLEMISHES : Nothing visible.
SCARS : Verse dependent. No scars in his main verse but covered in burns after the explosion at the hospital.
TATTOOS : Verse dependent. None in main verse, but in the Cult verse he wears the symbol of thorn on the inside of his wrist.
HEIGHT : 6'0″.
WEIGHT : 168 lbs.
BUILD : Average, but mildly lanky. Possesses much more strength than what meets the eye.
FEATURES : Pale skin and smooth, unblemished features. Blank expression and deep black eyes that stare.
ALLERGIES : N/A.
USUAL HAIR STYLE : Very much unkempt. Tangled and unbrushed. How it falls is how he wears it.
USUAL FACE LOOK : Smooth and unfettered as a blanket of fresh snow or a blank sheet of paper. His eyes don’t seem to focus. They seem to stare past you and far into the future---or far into the past.
USUAL CLOTHING : Blue mechanic’s coveralls and work boots. On his head is a white mask that shields his face, expressionless and intimidating. He does not like to remove it.
PSYCHOLOGY.
FEAR / S : None. The closest thing that arouses anything remotely like fear in Michael is the exposure of his face. He is not the evil entity he tries so hard to be when his youthful, cute face prevents him from being as scary. Plus, that mask has become an integral part of his personal identity. Without it he can function (assuming that he himself made the choice to remove it), but when it’s taken from him he experiences a sensation akin to panic.
ASPIRATION / S : To recreate again and again the events that preceded his incarceration: the murder of family members reminiscent of his murder of his elder sister, Judith.
POSITIVE TRAITS : Tenacious, resourceful, clever (in ways)
NEGATIVE TRAITS : Remorseless, withdrawn, deceitful, bears grudges, murderous, blase, cunning, dangerous, manipulative, obsessive, unemotional,
MBTI : ISTP-A: The Virtuoso
ZODIAC : Libra.
TEMPERAMENT : Choleric.
SOUL TYPE / S : Hunter.
ANIMALS : Hunts much like a cougar does.
VICE HABIT / S : Murder, holding grudges.
FAITH : The Myers family went to church every Sunday but Michael never believed in God. No faith.
GHOSTS ? : Does not want to think about it.
AFTERLIFE ? : Does not care to think about it.
REINCARNATION ? : No.
ALIENS ? : Does not care.
POLITICAL ALIGNMENT : None.
ECONOMIC PREFERENCE : Technically he is in poverty.
SOCIOPOLITICAL POSITION : No.
EDUCATION LEVEL : Kindergarten.
FAMILY.
FATHER : Peter Myers.
MOTHER : Edith Myers.
SIBLINGS : Judith Margaret Myers (elder), Cynthia Myers (renamed Laurie Strode, younger)
EXTENDED FAMILY : Jamie Lloyd (niece), Steven Lloyd (son/grandnephew), John Tate (nephew)
NAME MEANING / S : Michael: “Who is like God?”/”He who is closest to God.” Audrey: Drawn from “noble” and “strength.”
HISTORICAL CONNECTION ? : Michael’s name is EXTREMELY biblical.
FAVOURITES.
BOOK : None.
MOVIE : None.
5 SONGS : He has none. However, these songs remind me of him. ( x x )
DEITY : Verse dependent. Forced to worship the Entity in Dead by Daylight.
HOLIDAY : Halloween, the only time when he is truly active.
MONTH : October.
SEASON : Autumn.
PLACE : His home on Lampkin Lane in Haddonfield, Illinois.
WEATHER : Cloud cover darkening the night sky. Cool, crisp air that just nips at the skin.
SOUND : The radio from outside a window, carefree prattle of teenagers who are unaware of his presence, their anxious calling when they hear a sound when they think they’re alone, their shrieks when he plunges his knife into their young, supple flesh, the snapping of bones, the splatter of blood.
SCENT / S : Gentle wafts of floral shampoo that trail his obsession.
TASTE / S : The metallic hint of blood in his mouth, candy.
FEEL / S : Control, the charge of following someone without their knowing, their desperate grasps at him as he seizes them.
ANIMAL / S : Has no favorite animal.
NUMBER : Seventeen--the age of both of his sisters when he makes attempts on both of their lives.
COLOUR : Red for the blood that he spills, black for the shadows that provide him shelter.
EXTRA.
TALENTS : Hunting, he is very adept at following his prey without alerting their attention until he wishes for himself to be noticed. Inducing fear into the hearts of those surrounding him. Misleading those who associate themselves with him. Lacking any kind of humanity or decency that would sway his warpath.
BAD AT : Communicating, as he cannot and/or will not say a word to a single soul. Taking care of himself, as he cannot manage to feed himself regularly or to bathe himself or tend to his own injuries.
TURN ONS : Fear of him. Watching, watching, watching.
TURN OFFS : Intimacy.
HOBBIES : Drawing pictures in crayon, writing his elder sister’s name on them.
TROPES : Face of an Angel; Mind of a Demon, Creepy Child, Humanoid Abomination, Malevolent Masked Man, Silent Antagonist, The Stoic, Super Strength, The Voiceless.
AESTHETIC TAGS : Knives, gore, masks, graveyards, urban neighborhoods, Halloween, trick or treat, jack-o-lanterns.
GPOY QUOTES : ".........”
FC INFO.
MAIN FC / S : I haven’t done extensive research on faceclaims for adult Michael because I see no situation where he would remove his mask for anyone so I will stick to his faceclaim in the first movie for now-- Tony Moran.
ALT FC / S : Tyler Mane.
OLDER FC / S : Don Shanks.
YOUNGER FC / S : Noah Wiseman.
VOICE CLAIM / S : None.
GENDERBENT FC / S : None.
MUN QUESTIONS.
Q1 : if you could write your character your way in their own movie , what would it be called , what style would it be filmed in , and what would it be about ?
A1 : Well, Michael already has several movies made all about him but there are a lot of things that I’d like to see in the one coming out next year. First of all, I would love it if they would scratch the ideas of Michael being tied to a cult and being the puppet of a cult because I believe that Michael’s actions are completely of his own free will. I would also love to see some of Michael’s time in Smith’s Grove and Dr. Loomis’s struggle to bring Michael out of himself. I would love to see the little boy before the event on Halloween 1963 and how he acted around his family. I want to see Michael stalking and murdering people that have no connection to him whatsoever. I believe it would be much scarier that way.
Q2 : what would their soundtrack / score sound like ?
A2 : I would keep elements of the original Halloween soundtrack because they’ve come to resemble Michael’s screen presence so much. I’d like to thicken the orchestration.
Q3 : why did you start writing this character ?
A3 : I’ve been obsessed with Dead by Daylight since its release and I was kind of like ????? when they announced that they were going to release Michael as a playable character in the game bc honestly it just reads as jealousy that Friday the 13th is already doing so much better than it, and oh my GOD. I honestly hated Michael so much when he was first released into the game because he is ridiculous to play against. It is so fucking hard to get away from him. Like my hatred for him was unholy. But then I started to watch the movies on a whim and??? I loved him?? My murder sON.
Q4 : what first attracted you to this character ?
A4: I really love the aesthetic of the old slasher movies and I love horror movies in general. I told myself that I was going to see all of the movies of all the original slashers and Michael was the one that I picked up first. What I really found attractive about his character at first is how inhuman he is and how terrifying the situation is. He has complete control. And plus, I’m a sucker for a scary man in a mask.
Q5 : describe the biggest thing you dislike about your muse.
A5 : I hate that it’s implied in the sixth movie that he raped his teenage niece. Michael is a god awful living organism and I know that he isn’t morally above doing something like that, but I really can’t see him doing something like that. I can’t see him developing any kind of substantial arousal about anyone on that level.
Q6 : what do you have in common with your muse ?
A6 : I suppose that we’re both reserved. Beyond this, we don’t really have anything in common.
Q7 : how does your muse feel about you ?
A7 : Michael would fucking stab me in a heartbeat lmaO. I would be trying to mother him and he would be like NOPE. Not having it. He doesn’t feel anything about me and he doesn’t feel anything about anyone tbh, but I don’t think he’d appreciate my attempts to take care of him.
Q8 : what characters does your muse have interesting interactions with ?
A8 : Laurie Strode, Jamie Lloyd, Dr. Loomis, Judith Myers, Dr. Hannibal Lecter, Pennywise the Clown, Jason Voorhees, Nea Karlsson, Trapper, Hillbilly, Meg Thomas, Dwight Fairfield, the Entity.
Q9 : what gives you inspiration to write your muse ?
A9 : Watching the Halloween movies, listening to dark, ambient music, rock music, or looking at aesthetic pictures of suburban neighborhoods at night and Halloween.
Q10 : how long did this take you to complete ?
A10 : SO LONG. Like a month omf
#🔪 | ᴘᴀᴛɪᴇɴᴛ ɴᴏᴛᴇs ( about. )#🔪 | ᴛʜᴇ ᴇᴠɪʟ ɪs ɢᴏɴᴇ ( ooc. )#[ tfw u have to describe michael's face in detail ]#[ and all you can think is ]#[ pretty boy pretty boy pretty boy ]
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