#when kids rewatch something non stop
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Tony: *staring at the same movie making the 200th tally*...
Ultron: *stares reverently at finding nemo* just keep swimming, just keep swimming
Bucky: *half asleep on the coach* just keep swimming swimming
Tony: no one told me parenting includes rewatches... forgive me momma
Ultron: *screams at the fish* swim!!
Bucky: I am sorry to my ma
#incorrect marvel quotes#incorrect avengers#tony stark#bucky barnes#winteriron#ultron is their child#they are very tired parents#but they love their child#finding nemo#when kids rewatch something non stop
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Like many of us I'm doing a TWD rewatch, looking for all those pre-relationship moments, and a great little one in 4x01 is after Michonne arrives back at the prison -- there's a moment where Daryl tells her "Glad to see you're in one piece." HOWEVER, when he says that he turns to look directly at Rick. Who in turn quickly looks away, almost bashful.
You can just imagine what Daryl had to put up with, with Rick in those early days. So I had to fic it.
Rick never said the words aloud. He never outright said, "I'm worried about Michonne. I hope she's okay. I hope she comes back." He was never that obvious. But to someone like Daryl, a man naturally of few words himself, it was clear as day that their fearless leader was never fully relaxed whenever that smartass/badass - who was more than capable of taking care of herself - wasn't safely tucked away behind their walls.
But what Rick would say when she was gone was - "There was a herd moving south, right?" Where Michonne had last gone hung unspoken between them. And when Daryl answered Yeah, Rick would just place his hands on his hips and nod, jaw tight, as he scanned the perimeter of the compound as if waiting for someone to magically appear.
He would say - "There's a lot more bandits out there, roaming in packs. Isn't that what you said?" A grunt and a shrug from Daryl, and Rick would nod like they'd just had a conversation and go back to his farming, digging the shovel into the dirt with a bit more force than necessary, making a point to not look at the fence. They hadn't heard from Michonne in two weeks.
He would say - "Nights are getting cold," while standing outside at the communal kitchen, plate in hand, his gaze always drawn to the barely visable fence line. Daryl had hummed in agreement, fighting the urge to tell him that Michonne should be fine as she had pilfered his poncho, something Rick already knew.
And on one strange occasion he said, "Do you think we should get some more ... art? In here?"
This had stopped Daryl in his tracks. "What?"
Rick shrugged, perhaps a little sheepishly, but continued. "We have a library, potted flowers, even some toys and things for the kids. This is our home now. Thought ... maybe it could use a bit of ... brightening?"
Daryl just starred blankly. "You want me to, what? Bring back pictures?"
For a moment it looked as if Rick was about to finally say what was actually on his mind, before he instead gave a rueful smile and waved his hand in the air as if to dispel the conversation. "Nah, nah, never mind. It was just a thought."
He walked away, leaving an utterly perplexed Daryl behind who simply shrugged and went on his own way. It was only later that day as he passed by Michonne's empty cell did his eyes fall upon that weird colourful cat thing, the one that looked like it was about to start a fight. It was such a stupid, useless thing but Daryl remembered how Michonne had presented it to him with an air of triumph, as if it was the most gorgeous thing in the world. He didn't get it.
Did Rick really think that if he made the place more art-filled, Michonne might want to hang around longer? he wondered, then immediately dismissed the idea. Well, clearly not because he gave up before he started. Like with other things.
Only once had Daryl said the unsaid thing.
Almost everyone was asleep. Well, Carl was hid under his blankets reading comics and there were low conversational sounds coming from some darkened cell, but for the most part things were quiet.
And they were kept quiet by an exhausted Rick, pacing back and forth with a fussy Judith, bouncing her non-stop so her cries wouldn't awaken the entire community. He'd nodded to Daryl, who in turn took a moment to ask if he needed help putting Judith to sleep tonight.
"No, thankyou" said Rick tiredly. "I think she's pretty much worn herself out by now. Should be sound asleep soon."
"You too."
Rick sighed. "Yeah. I just ..." He shifted Judith a little, "Even when I do get to bed, I can't seem to stop thinking. Thinking of plans for the future, for the people we have in here. The people we bring in. How to protect everyone inside these walls. Keep our people safe despite ... well, despite everything." Rick looked at Daryl as if he might have the answers to those questions he hadn't quite asked.
All he could do was shrug. "We just try. Trust that we all know what we're doing. Lookout for everyone here. Not much more we can do, is there? Future don't care about anyone's plans."
Rick didn't look totally reassured, but he still smiled slightly as Daryl's efforts. "Yeah. I just worry, is all."
"I know." And as Daryl passed by he gripped Rick's shoulder and muttered, "Shouldn't worry so much. Michonne'll be back, all in one piece. You'll see."
And the man had the audacity to look confused, stuttering out, "Yeah, I know that, but - but I wasn't talking about Michonne, specifically. I'm not worried about her. She can take care of herself, I know that, and she always comes back, it's just ... with everything ..."
As he trailed off Daryl eyed Rick critically for a moment. He really thinks he's selling it, he thought, before giving a soft grunt that was akin to laughter and wandering off to bed, leaving a somewhat disconcerted Rick behind, gently bouncing a sleeping Judith.
And the very next day who should come riding through the gates but one Michonne, smiling, baring gifts and all in one piece, as Daryl made sure to point out to Rick, who's ears suddenly went bright red as if Michonne might somehow be able to figure out that they'd been taking about her just that night before.
But she didn't notice. She was too caught up in her almost obsessive search for the Governor and already planning her next venture out, unaware of Rick's barely suppressed disappointment or of the sigh that Daryl kept clenched behind his teeth as he tried to subtly talk her out of another long run. It wasn't her who was stuck with Rick and his wordless pining.
Because it was pining, even if he never said nothing. If they were in school Daryl might've suggested he pass her a note.
When she had quickly offered to go back out again with the rest of the scavenging party - even though, as Carl had said wistfully, she'd just got back - and Daryl could do nothing more than give Rick a comforting pat, grimacing slightly as the man's expression said exactly the same thing his son had vocalised.
God, this was going to wear thin soon.
Ah well. Wasn't like they had TV anymore.
#the walking dead#richonne#rick grimes#michonne grimes#daryl dixon#Heehee#just a spurt of fanfic on tumblr - haven't done that for a while. :)
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can you hear the music (ch. 3) - joel miller x reader
masterlist
summary: everyone in jackson is trying to distract themselves from something. you teach ellie piano and find yourself trying to help more than one miller settle into their new world.
chapter 3: today, it would be sarah's 34th birthday. but today, tomorrow, and every other day, joel needs you.
warnings: post outbreak!joel, jackson!era, joel x reader, AFAB!reader, platonic!ellie x reader, implied age gap, smoochin', gropin', mentions of death, joel grieves, joel sings, arguing/fighting (kinda), mental health discussions, lewdness, angst, heavy feelings (and there's more where that come from!)
words: 3.4k
a/n: man. can u tell I rewatched episode 1? i’m proud of this one. also, I hope this reaches my fleetwood mac lovers.
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Joel, while in the middle of hauling a bag of horse feed over his good shoulder (and ‘good’ was being generous), realized he was getting old. This was the tenth revelation of the day, give or take. From when he forced himself out of bed onto aching joints, to when he hadn’t heard Ellie come up behind him in the kitchen, and most notably, to when he realized Sarah’s 34th birthday would’ve been today.
It didn’t sting anymore. Not after this long, not after 20 years. It didn’t even hurt.
It just ached.
He sloughed the feed into the trough, stepping back to catch his breath. He glided his hand over the pretty little mare that he usually took out. She seemed too small to not be a pony, but hey, equine standards had flown out the window 20 years ago along with everything else.
Tommy knew, too. He never forgot. Maybe that's why he patted Joel on the back at breakfast that morning and told him to go ‘take a ride’. Clear his head. They still had work to do today. The Earth never stopped spinning. Joel thought that by now, it should’ve.
To be fair, the date could’ve been a little off, but the air was that same lukewarm cold and the sun shone blinding in a clear blue sky the same way it did on the day Sarah was born. Winter was melting into a tepid spring in Wyoming, and Joel was still here to fucking see it.
For a second he wondered if his vision was going, too, having to do a double-take when he noticed you leaning against the wooden beam of the stall entrance.
“Jesus,” he mumbled. “Y’ever heard of knocking?”
You rolled your eyes. “Must’ve missed the door.”
“How’d you find me?” He asked, finally turning to really look at you. Irritatingly beautiful.
“Ellie,” you answered. “Said you were going for a joy ride.”
He sighed, coming over to wrap his arms just below the dip of your spine. “Kid couldn’t keep a secret if her fuckin’ life depended on it,” he grumbled, pausing afterwards to give you a slow kiss.
“I like the honesty. She’s got nothing to hide, especially if it has anything to do with you.” You grinned and fell right into his little ploy.
“Mmh. Lucky me.”
He had you backed against the wooden railing in an instant, his hand creeping up below your shirt and onto the soft skin of your waist. The touch raised goosebumps all over your body. You placed two hands on either side of his neck, gently, enjoying the way he was feeling you up with his lips glued to yours.
“Now? Right here?” You asked once you had the chance to break away from his mouth. “A little risky, Miller. Don’t forget, I’m still your worst kept secret,” you chided.
“No, not right here. And fuck you.” He pulled away until all but one hand was still stroking your side through your shirt.
“Likewise.”
And Joel loved you. Maybe not in the same way he loved Tommy or Ellie or Sarah, but still, he did. He loved your smart mouth, the way you blazed like a fire in bed with him, your natural talent, the way you made it all ache less.
And you did– make it ache less. That was reason enough.
He gestured to the horse that was a few feet away, still eating its breakfast. “You wanna join?”
“Can’t say no,” you said. “What’s the occasion? I thought they were strict about leaving for non-essential reasons.”
Joel was looking at you until he wasn’t, his gaze going right through you. He could tell you. He knew he could. You knew about his daughter and you still never brought it up. You’d lost people too, he knew that. He could tell you and you would bring him into your arms and say something like, I’m so sorry, Joel. I’m here. I’m here if you need me.
He would tell you. But not today.
He shrugged and pressed a kiss into your hairline. “Just another day. I want you to come.”
“Alright, then.” You nodded towards the guitar sitting in the corner of the stall. Dark stained wood around the edges fading into a lighter mahogany. It was beautiful. “Bringing that, too?”
“Yeah, why not. Here, let me help.” He grabbed it and lifted it over your head, situating it so that the body of the guitar was resting against your back. “You ever played?”
You shook your head. “No. Good thing you do.”
He brought the horse out into the open, making sure he still had everything important– a gun in his pocket and a broken watch on his wrist. He helped you up onto the saddle, sitting behind him and flush with his back.
Outside the walls, It was a beautiful day. The sun had melted away the heavy snow on the peaks of the rolling hills, the first kiss of spring. New life, grass that had started to green. You had your arms wrapped tightly around Joel’s middle, face pressed against the back of his shoulder. The fields seemed boundless. You hadn’t realized just how infinitesimally small your world had grown since being in Jackson.
“Are there usually infected around here?” You asked.
“Not really. The valley helps. We’ll stay out in the open, don’t worry, baby.”
You didn’t even have to ask. The little tour he was giving you around the east end of the fields was mostly an effort to case the surrounding area, his senses on high alert for anything dangerous. The truth was, this place was secure. Still, Joel would move mountains to keep you safe. Would do anything. He’d made mistakes in the past that he wouldn’t let happen again. Couldn’t.
After a loop around the outer wall, riding with a mixture of the horse's friendly canter and Joel intentionally speeding her up to scare the shit out of you and make you hold on tighter to him, he settled on a plateau at the top of a hill, a few steps away from the thick evergreen forest.
After helping you off the mare and spreading out the woven blanket he had rolled up on the back of the saddle, Joel sat down with a heavy sigh. You tied the lead to a low tree branch where the horse seemed content to roam. After, you pulled the guitar over your head and handed it to him.
It was still early in the day, and the sun was barely cresting over the hilltops from this view. 10:42 AM. That’s when his daughter was born. He looked down at the broken face of his watch out of habit, even though the thing had been broken for years at this point.
You dropped down next to him and your head immediately connected with his shoulder. Looking over at him, his eyes were far away and glassy. “What’re you thinking about?”
Joel shook his head and pressed a slow kiss into your forehead. “Nothin’. Just wondering what I should play.” He brought the guitar into his lap and strummed it a little, pausing to tune the top string down half a step. “Feel like I gotta impress you.”
You huffed a laugh and shook your head. “You don’t have to. Who’d you used to listen to?”
“Oh, Jesus…” he had sort of let go of the fond memories he had of old music. With you, though, he was starting to miss it. “Some Zeppelin, some Billy Joel, Pearl Jam… Nirvana was just gettin’ good, too. Lots of Chet Atkins when I was younger.”
You just smiled, moving your hand to stroke his knee. “None of that surprises me.”
“You like Fleetwood Mac?” he asked after a while. “Stevie Nicks, always one of my favorites. My daughter’s, too.”
Your heart hurt a little at that. Joel had never brought up the daughter he’d lost with you. You kissed his shoulder as he started picking the strings to the tune of Landslide, that gentle back and forth that you hadn’t heard in more than 20 years.
“That's a good one, baby.”
You still remembered the lyrics. He did, too.
I took my love, I took it down
I climbed a mountain and I turned around
And I saw my reflection in the snow-covered hills,
‘Til the landslide brought me down
Joel’s playing wasn’t perfect. He’d picked the guitar up again a few times in the last couple weeks, but before that, it had been a lifetime ago. On that radio station in Austin, The Best Of The ‘70’s, this one would come on all the time. Sarah would grin and sing her best rendition, as loudly as possible, always egging Joel on to join in too. Sometimes he would, but not always. He regretted that.
He thought your voice was beautiful. Clear and bright. His voice was probably an octave below yours, gravelly and out of practice. The two of you mixed together like honey into whiskey.
Oh, mirror in the sky,
What is love?
Can the child in my heart rise above?
Can I sail through the changin’ ocean tides?
Can I handle the seasons of my life?
He would’ve liked to scoff at that. There's nothing to do but handle it. Push forward and deal. He didn’t die on September 26th, 2003, despite his best efforts and no matter how much he wanted to. He was here with you. Singing with you, laughing through the verses, watching the sun light up your eyes. And for that? A part of him had to consider himself a lucky son of a bitch.
He couldn’t stop himself from wanting to make a life with you. The extent to which he could see that to fruition, he wasn’t sure. Everything was uncertain. He didn’t even deserve it. Nothing he had done over the past 20 years was worthy of you. But fuck, he could be good. If he tried, maybe, he could be good for you. And trying? It’d be worth it.
Well, I’ve been afraid of changin’
‘Cause I’ve built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Even children get older
And I’m getting older, too
Joel had to stop singing. Tears were swelling in his dark brown eyes and one wrong move would break the entire dam of emotions. He kept playing, though, into the second chorus, happy to listen to you.
Well, I’ve been afraid of–
“Joel?”
You turned away from the landscape to look at his face. Tears were streaking his cheeks, his eyes staring straight ahead of him. You didn’t say anything– you took the guitar out of his arms and brought him into yours instead. You rubbed slow circles into his flannel-clad back, holding him tight as his shoulders sagged and shuddered with every shaky inhalation.
“I’m sorry, baby, I’m sorry," he managed to say.
“It’s okay, Joel. You’re okay. It’s just me, you know I don’t mind. I got you, come on, just get it out.”
You had your own guesses as to what was getting to him so bad. You told yourself a long time ago that you wouldn’t pry. He wouldn’t tell you like that, anyway. He had to do it himself.
After a few pregnant moments passed with the two of you like that, his breathing finally evened out enough for him to speak clearly. He pulled away from you, taking your face into his hands so you couldn’t look away. His eyes were reddened and puffy, his cheeks wet.
“I ain’t gonna let nothin’ happen to you. D’you understand that? Nothin’. I’m gonna take care of you. Keep you safe. Keep you happy.” He tucked your hair behind your ears before gliding his thumbs over the skin just below your eye. “I will. You just gotta let me.”
You gently pried his hands away from your face, taking them into your own and pressing a kiss into his knuckles. “Okay, baby. I’ll let you. I’ll let you,” you repeated. “I’m safe with you, I know.”
He pulled you in suddenly, practically squeezing all of the air out of your lungs with the grip he had on you. “I promise you. I promise.”
He promised you, and you believed him.
And if you see my reflection in the snow covered hills,
Well, the landslide bring it down
Oh, the landslide bring it down
-
At your lesson with Ellie, she seemed more motivated than you did. Sooner or later, she was going to exhaust the entire Star Wars: A Beginner’s Score sheet music book that you had found a few years back.
After successfully sight reading the first few bars of The Imperial March and promptly declaring that she had had enough ‘piano-ing’ for the day, Ellie gave you a look.
You furrowed your brows. “What?”
“Nothin’,” she said flippantly, looking away from you. “Just– are you and Joel, like, together?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Ellie turned, looking exasperated. “Pft. You know exactly what I mean.”
You rolled your eyes and jokingly shoved her away from you by the forehead. “We’re getting married next week, actually,” you said, laughing. “Mhm, we’re running away with each other. Gonna buy a big white house with a big picket fence down south– you know, to keep you out.”
“Oh, fuck you, dude.” She giggled too, punching your shoulder in return hard enough to push you down the piano bench. “I have a right to know! And besides, I don’t have anyone to tell. I can keep a secret.”
“I disagree, but– if you memorize your F# minor scale by Tuesday, I’ll tell you all about it. Has to be perfect, though,” you qualified.
“Fine,” she said with stubborn resolve. “And… there's one more thing.” Her eyes cast downwards and her shoulders drooped a little as she gave a long exhale.
“What is it?”
She looked back up at you through her dark lashes. “Did you hear about the guy who got hit in the head with a can of soda?”
“The– the who?”
With a completely straight face, she said, “Yeah. He’s lucky it was a soft drink.”
Ellie’s laughter could barely be heard over your exaggerated groaning. You had your head dropped into your hands and Ellie in tears when Joel walked in through the front door.
Ellie, sighing and wiping her eyes, said: “I told her the ol’ soda-can-to-the-head one. Pretty good, right?”
“Jesus…” you heard Joel mutter.
Shiny-eyed and smiling, you pointed to the door. “Out of my house. Both of you. And don’t bother coming back.”
Ellie grabbed her coat and was out the door before Joel could even open his mouth. “See you Tuesday!”
“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out!”
-
Later that day, in the hot and unusually busy Tipsy Bison, Joel was too drunk.
It was the perfect conclusion to the most bittersweet day he’d had in a while. Had the morning with you, finished up a roofing project just after dinner, and against his better judgment, asked if you wanted drinks. You arrived as a pair, undoubtedly eliciting new whisperings from your fellow Jackson residents, but Joel was starting not to care.
You’d mentioned going out together in passing to him after he had told you about the bar scene when he was younger, commenting on how you wished you’d gotten to experience that. And yeah, maybe this felt more like playing pretend to him than anything, but he wanted to give you good days. Good memories. A real life, where you could experience things with him and not have to worry about how long the happiness would last.
Tonight, it backfired. A year ago today, he would’ve been mixing whiskey and oxycodone to forget it was Sarah’s birthday. But now, he was too drunk with Tommy, and you were watching all of it, and he wished he still had a handful of pills to knock him out.
“She your girlfriend now, brother?” Tommy slurred, clapping him on the shoulder.
Joel grabbed you roughly by the waist from his seat at the bar, tucking you in close to him. “Yeah, she’s my girl,” he cooed. “Ain’t that right, pretty baby?”
Tommy chuckled, slamming his glass down onto the counter. “Same way Tessa was your girl? Or different this time?”
Joel wanted to be sick. “The fuck’s wrong with you, asshole?”
You, a little tipsy yourself by this point, smoothed a hand over Joel’s curls in an effort to de-escalate this conversation. “Joel, hey. He’s your brother. Don’t start a fight.”
Tommy shook his head and patted you on the arm. “It’s okay, baby, let him speak.”
Drunkenly, Joel stood up, pointing an accusatory finger at his brother. “If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be saddled with all this shit,” he started. “Always chasin’ your sorry ass. Halfway across the fuckin’ country this time. If it weren’t for you, Tess’d be here.”
This was an old argument, but they were drunk, and it seemed like the perfect time to rehash it.
Tommy stood up to meet his eyes. “Oh yeah? Really? If it weren’t for me, Joel, you’da had a bullet in your head by now. Oh, y’haven't told her? Your girl? Go on, tell her. Tell her all about Sarah. Happy fuckin’ birthday to her.”
“Keep her name out your motherfuckin’ mouth, you– bastard–”
You had your arm interlinked with Joel’s, but he flung you off of him in an instant. He swung at Tommy, but his aim was a little diluted from the gin and Tommy ducked anyway. He only got one attempt in before five different people were pulling them away from each other to opposite ends of the bar.
You followed Joel, thanking the two men who were restraining him as he shouted strings of profanities and nobody, assuring them that you could take it from here.
“Joel, you gotta calm down. Hey. Hey, Miller, I’m fucking talking to you.” You grabbed his face in your hands and forced him to look at you. “Take a breath. Just take a breath.”
He did as he was told, but his eyes were still darting rapidly around the room. “Tommy…” he breathed out. “Fuck. I didn’t mean to, I swear. Did I hurt him? I hurt him, didn’t I?”
“No, baby. You– uh, you missed.”
“Ah, fuck.”
Maybe narcotics wouldn’t have fixed this, either.
Joel let you drag him back to your place without putting up much of a fight. Sarah. She would’ve been ashamed of him. There was a mounting list of things that Sarah would’ve hated him for, and this was just the icing on the cake.
Back on your couch, lying on his back, he wanted today to be over.
“I was s’pposed to be doin’ good for you,” he said quietly. “Bein’ better for you.”
“What are you talking about?” You asked, your voice straining with the force it took to tug off his left boot.
“I’m no good for you.”
“Joel–”
“I ain’t, babydoll. I ain’t. Not for you, not for Ellie, not for Tommy, not for Tessa, and not for Sarah,” he mumbled. “It’s her birthday.”
“I know.”
“I miss her,” he swallowed. “Real bad.”
“I know, Joel.”
There was a lump in his throat and a tightness in his chest. Landslide was still stuck in his head.
… saw my reflection… snow covered hills …
He shut his eyes. “Is Ellie alright?”
“Mhm. She’s asleep down the street,” you said, tracing lazy shapes into his stomach.
“She’s a good kid,” he mumbled. “Tough kid.”
“She is,” you agreed. “She relies on you– cares about you. Lots of people care about you.”
… time makes y’bolder, children get… older …
Joel hummed in response. “I still need you.”
… I’m gettin’ older, too …
You bit your lip. You should really get back up, make sure Joel had a glass of water and painkillers near him for when he woke up. Maybe even a bowl from the kitchen. But your body felt like it was being weighed down by lead, and the infrequency at which you actually drank alcohol was making you unfathomably tired.
You laid down on top of him, head pressed against his chest. His breathing was slow and even and his heart rate was calm.
“I need you, too.”
-
#joel miller fic#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#Pedro pascal#Pedro pascal x reader#the last of us#the last of us hbo#tlou#thou hbo#Ellie miller#Joel miller tlou#the last of us fic#tlou fanficiton#the last of us fanfiction#joel miller fanfiction#Pedro pascal fic#joel miller x y/n#Joel miller smut#Pedro pascal smut#pedrito#tlou hbo
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@steddie-week day 3: first kiss | 2.1k words | G or T
Steve and Robin were about halfway through a rewatch of Clue when the phone rang, and Steve was across the living room before it was halfway through its second ring. “What’s wrong?” He asked without preamble. His heart was already racing; too anxious to consider the possibility that it could be someone calling for his parents—or even that it might be a non-emergency call. It was past ten already, and most of The Party should have at least been pretending to sleep by then.
“Steve?” The voice on the other end of the line was a bit distant—drowned out by the staticky sound of rain hitting pavement.
“Eddie? Are you alright? Where are you? Did something happen?”
Eddies’ van was out of commission, so he’d been relying on rides from Steve and the rest of the Corroded Coffin crew to get him to and from places for the past few weeks. If he was out somewhere and in trouble, he was stranded there.
“Yeah—I-I mean, no. Nothing—nothing happened. Just—could you come get me?”
“Yeah, of course. Where are you?”
“I’m out at The Hideout.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll be there in ten—maybe fifteen minutes.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I said I’d be there in ten, Eddie.”
“Okay.”
Steve hung up the receiver and turned to make for the foyer to find Robin standing behind him—jacket on, back slung over one shoulder, and a pair of his shoes in one hand. “Picking Eddie up?”
“Yeah.” Steve took the shoes from her hands gratefully, and started pulling them on.
“Can you drop me off on the way without slowing yourself down?”
“Yeah, I budgeted Robin home-delivery time just in case.”
“Well, hop to it then, dingus.”
~*~*~*~
When Steve pulled up in front of The Hideout after dropping off a surprisingly acquiescent Robin (Eddie needs you more than I do right now, dingus), it was to find Eddie sitting atop one of the wheel stops of The Hideout’s small lot, looking like a drowned rat.
Eddie was up and yanking open the door to the beamer before Steve could so much as put it in park, and Steve pulled out of the lot as soon as Eddie had his seat belt buckled across him.
“You okay, mann?”
Eddie shrugged.
“What happened?”
“Don’t really wanna talk about it right now.”
Steve nodded. “Okay.”
“Sorry to interrupt movie night with the missus.”
Steve laughed. “She already forgives you. Provided that you were actually having a crisis and not just faking one as a ploy to get me alone with you.”
That startled a laugh out of Eddie in turn, and he turned in his seat to shoot Steve a mischievous grin. “Now, does that sound like something I would do, sweetheart?”
“According to Robin? Yes.”
“Ah, I see who the brains of the operation is, then.”
“Was that in question?”
“Well—whether or not there was a brain behind you and Robin’s whole deal was a little up in the air.”
Steve snorted. “Yeah, that’s fair.”
Silence fell between the two of them, and twenty seconds in Eddie started rooting around in Steve’s glove compartment.
“Dude. What are you doing?”
“I’m looking for a tape in here that doesn’t suck, man!”
“What are you talking about? We have, like, half the same taste in music!”
“Yeah, but the only thing you keep in your car are mixtapes! And I’m sorry, Steve, but some of the things the kids have made you are—objectively speaking—extremely cursed.”
“You could put in the one Robin made.”
“It’s hilarious that you think there’s only one Robin mixtape in here. But also: I’m not in the mood for Cyndi Lauper.”
“Cyndi Lauper’s not in the mood for you,” Steve snarked under his breath—more because he knew that’s what Robin would say if she was in the car with them than for any other reason. Raising his voice so that Eddie knew it was meant to be heard, he added, “I think there might be one from Jon in there?”
Eddie wrinkled his nose. “Eugh. No thanks. My night’ been shit enough.” He kept rooting around for another minute or two, until— “Aha!” he emerged triumphant, an sparsely labeled tape held aloft in one hand. It looked like one that Steve had made for himself years ago—long before he’d gone knocking on the supernatural’s door. If he was guessing right, it was a mix of Queen, Bowie, and Fleetwood Mac. “How have I never found this one before?” Eddie asked.
“Because in spite of your loud protestations to the contrary, you usually just let whatever music is playing in the car happen to you.”
Eddie gave a considering hum as he stuffed his find into the tape deck. “Yeah, I guess I do.”
The two of them fell silent again as “The Chain” poured from the speakers, and the rest of the ride passed without conversation, the only sounds between them besides the music was the steady beat of rain against the windshield, and Eddie’s fingers drumming along to the beat of the song.
~*~*~*~
Steve killed the engine as he pulled up in front of the Munsons’ trailer.
“Thanks for the ride,” Eddie said, pulling a strand of hair out to cover his mouth as he did so.
“Yeah—any time, dude.”
Eddie made to get out of the car, but froze in place as he leaned half-in, and half-out. “Could you—wanna come in?” There was a put-upon air of casualness to his tone in a way that made Steve suspect that he was being asked to stay the night. He wasn’t sure why Eddie felt so shy about the request, though—it wasn’t like this would be the first time.
“Oh. Yeah, man. Of course.” All he ever wanted was to be helpful. So Steve took his keys from the ignition, and trailed after Eddie as he led them both inside.
Eddie started peeling out of his soaked clothes before the front door had finished closing behind them, and made a beeline for his bedroom so he could pull on a pair of boxers and a bleach-stained t-shirt, before flopping down onto his bed. Steve followed after him, toeing his shoes off inside the door, and crawling into bed beside Eddie once he was finished changing.
"Wanna talk about it now?" he asked, as Eddie tucked himself up against his side.
Eddie shrugged. He took one of Steve's hands into both of his own and started idly playing with his fingers. "Bad date."
"Oh yeah? People aren't going mad over a metalhead who was only recently cleared of all murder charges?"
Eddie shoved at him. "Low blow, Harrington."
Steve stole his hand back to hold both of them up in surrender. "Sorry, man."
Eddie yanked Steve's hand back and held it covetously in both of his own, and Steve reached down with his own free one to tangle it into Eddie's wild mane of curls, which were still damp from the rain. "Whatever, dude. It wasn't that. He just…he was just kind of an asshole.” Eddie shrugged again, sounding a little resigned. “The regular kind."
Steve was silent, but ruffled his hand through Eddie's hair in what he hoped was a comforting gesture.
"I just…I don't know. I don't know why I even bother trying to go out on dates at this point.”
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, it's like…I don't know. Just feels like I'm chasing after something I'm never gonna find."
"I get that," Steve said, tone soft and understanding.
"Really? Figured you'd have people falling all over you."
Steve snorted. "I don't think I've gone on a date since I went to the championship game with Heidi back in March."
Eddie jerked a little in Steve’s grip. "Why not?" He sounded…genuinely very confused.
Steve shrugged. "I don't know, I just…haven’t really felt like it. Honestly, I’d already felt like I was circling the drain back at that point.”
“...Huh.”
They both went quiet, Steve still running one hand through Eddie’s hair, and Eddie still tangled his fingers through those of Steve’s other hand.
“So, how do you…?” Steve trailed off with a frown, unsure of how or whether he should finish his question.
“How do I…?”
“How do you, y’know, find guys? To go out with? Who you aren’t scared of knocking your lights out, that is.”
Eddie shifted in Steve’s arms to get a better look at him. “Wait, wait. Have you not been on a date with another guy yet, Harrington?”
“No…?”
“Then how did you—?”
“How did I, what?” Steve felt a little on edge; a little on the defensive. Like there was some unseen standard he wasn’t living up to.
“How’d you figure out you were into them, then?” Eddie sounded a little bewildered. A lot incredulous. “Figured you were the victim of a drunken make-out discovery or something.”
Steve laughed, because that did sound like him, but— “Nope. Never been kissed.” He tilted his head toward Eddie with a little smirk. “By a guy, that is.”
Eddie propped himself up on one arm and stared at Steve like he was a puzzle to be solved, and there was a glint in his eye that made the hair along the back of Steve’s neck stand on end. “D’you wanna be?”
Steve’s heart skipped a bit, and his hand stilled in Eddie’s hair. “Uh…what do you mean?”
“Do you wanna be kissed? By a guy?”
Steve laughed, feeling awkward. “Are you offering?”
Eddie shrugged, just a touch too casual. “Sure, why not?”
“I don’t know. Wouldn't it be weird?”
“Doesn’t have to be weird if you don’t make it weird, man.”
Steve turned that over. It’s not like he and Eddie didn’t already spend most of the time they spent alone together tangled up in one another. There was a quasi-romantic edge to their friendship that Steve wasn’t really used to—well. Except for with Robin. But that was different, for obvious reasons. And, granted, the dynamic between him and Tommy had been…intense, but it still hadn’t felt like this.
Regardless—kissing Eddie wouldn’t change anything about their friendship if they didn’t want it to. “I guess you’re right.”
Eddie half-turned in Steve’s arms. “Yeah?”
Steve repositioned himself so that they were facing each other, hitching one shoulder up in a nonchalant little shrug. “Sure, why not?” he parroted back.
Eddie smiled, and it made his whole face go soft and gentle in a way that had Steve’s stomach twisting up in knots. Oh, he’s beautiful.
Eddie reached up to tuck a lock of hair behind Steve’s ear, and then let his hand drift along the line of Steve’s jaw until he was gently gripping his chin between two fingers. Steve’s lips parted in anticipation, and the two of them breathed into the silent space they’d created between them. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest, and his arms breaking out in goosebumps.
It didn’t make any sense though. It wasn’t like it was his real first kiss. And he’d known he was attracted to men for ages, even if he’d never acted on it. It wasn’t even exactly news to him that he found Eddie attractive. But…none of their interactions had been this charged before.
Eddie closed the space between them, and pressed a gentle, but firm kiss to Steve’s lips, grinding the trajectory of Steve’s thoughts to a halt. It was a simple kiss. And it could have remained like that—soft, sweet, and almost chaste—except that Steve couldn’t hold back a sharp gasp in response, as his breath hitched in his throat.
He should pull back. He knew he should pull back—but he’d always been greedy, and Eddie was making no move to put any distance between the two of them either. So Steve surged forward, capturing Eddie’s lips into a more passionate kiss, and savoring the small whine it elicited. Eddie gave as good as he got, winding an arm around Steve’s waist, and slotting a thigh between both of Steve’s legs with a force that startled a little “Mmpf!” from him.
All in all, the kiss probably lasted little more than a few moments. But for all Steve knew, whole civilizations could have risen and fallen in that soft, gray space of time he and Eddie had their lips pressed together.
He wasn’t sure who finally broke away, but once they did, both of their breaths came short and heavy.
“That was…really good?” Steve said, a high-pitched note of giddiness and wonder in his tone.
Eddie smiled with cheshire-style grin, eyelids heavy and low. “Yeah? Wanna make it even better?”
Steve smiled right back. “I think I might.”
#stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#steddie#steddie week#steddieweek2023#steddie fic#once again just past the cut off in my timezone#also once again did not think I was gonna do anything for this day but then had an idea pop into my head at like...7pm#this one is mostly dialogue folks!#open ended as to whether or not this is capital r Romantic or just moves into a fun and genuinely platonic/qp fwb situation#as someone who falls in love/lust with friends super easily either works for me#i wanted to explore the quasi-romantic/sexual friendship that often exists within queer friendships#read writes
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Dhar Mann might've been secretly a "villain" the whole time....
Pt.1 (?)
No, you're not hallucinating. You saw that title correctly. Believe it or not, I have had ridiculous beef for years with the man who many love, and even adore, Dhar Mann. And therefore, I'll be elaborating today on why such a "good person" like him is considered one of my sworn enemies, and why I think you should consider him one too.
Many people, and especially parents, assume that Dhar Mann is a great influence on kids, and a friendly individual. And although for the most part; that can be true, but you need to look at the bigger picture.
"The Dhar Mann Effect" is what I like to call it. A serious, and contagious virus that even the most experienced and hard-working doctors can't find the cure to. "What does the Dhar Mann effect do?" ...You may be asking. Well, great question! The Dhar Mann effect is when you form an addiction and obsession to watching the supposedly "short films" made by no other than Dhar Mann himself. And I'm not talking about a little, silly obsession. I'm talking about serious addictions that can lead into binge watching video after video non-stop. Such things should be taken far way solemnly.
And the prime example is my younger sister. Among many of my Dhar Mann-obsessed friends, I'd say she's the worst case. It started out around 2 years ago, when their substitute teacher played a Dhar Mann video at class (since many students have requested it), and ever since, she got hooked. I knew then that there was no coming back, she reached the "no-return" point.
I'd go as far as saying that it's like drugs to her. She can't survive a day without watching at least 3 videos in one sitting. And yes, that includes re-watching or re-visiting older videos. Trust me, it's deeper than just a "So you see...". My sister can qualify as an iPad kid, now, if I had to say so. And even currently, as I'm writing this, I can hear Jay's voice, One of Dhar Mann's most popular actors— playing from her room. I feel like it's not the same, and those damages may be irreversible. My poor sister can't live her life to the fullest anymore. All she does is wait for the new Dhar Mann video. And while she waits for the next one, she just rewatches his old videos, making sure she knows all the lore.
This is not a "haha" joke, people. This is dead serious. No joke. I'm not crossing my fingers. I'm not what nowadays kids call "capping 🧢". I'm being genuine and I'm typing this with the straightest face ever.
Another issue I have with Dhar Mann is how threatening he appears to me. I can promise you that if you look long enough into his smile, you'll realise it's slightly unsettling. Did you notice his face almost always looks the same in every picture? Well, you're probably not trippin'. That's because he has that same smile in literally every picture I could find of him.
What are the chances he might be a robot? Ready for the day we all fall for his spell and none of us are safe anymore, so he can finally strike? There is something so terrifying about him. Every time I look at that smile, I can't help but shiver a bit of fear. But mostly, I'm quite intimidated by his disturbing behaviour. The way he never fails to stare dead into our souls. That's what I find strange.
But hold up, the theories don't stop... at least not yet! Did you notice the way Dhar Mann ends every single one of his videos with "Hey Dhar Mann fam!" ??? What are the chances that he refers to us as his fam (family) to hide the fact we're probably stuck in his basement? If we're talking lore-wise, I'd say the reason Dhar Mann calls us his fam is the following: We're all chilling at our homes, until one day... A Dhar Mann video comes to our recommendations. By watching the media, you're secretly agreeing to sign an invisible contract that gives ol' Dhar the ability to adopt you. Child or not. And just because you're now part of his fam, doesn't mean he can't trap you into the basement and lock you up with multiple of many victims. The only time he'll ever check on you is when he comes in the basement and greets you with "Hey Dhar Mann Fam!" While feeding you those meaningless videos.
I'll show you a couple of examples, and YOU tell me what these videos could possibly teach kids who barely know what photosynthesis is.
Now, be real, just for a moment, WHY IS THE SECOND VIDEO A GODDAMN SERIES????? ARE YOU TELLING ME THAT ITS A CASUAL THING THAT THE PROTAGONIST EXPERIENCES ON SIMPLE OCCASIONS TO GET JUMPED???
I think another weird part is that Dhar Mann featured another EXTREMELY popular YouTuber named "Mr. Beast" many, many times, but even then— he feels this need to pull out knock off Mr. Beast...ahem ahem....Mr. "feast"...??????
No joke. Just search up "Dhar Mann Mr. Feast" and count how many videos come up. But if you're so lazy to check, it's 4. yea. 4 DAMN VIDEOS ABOUT A MR BEAST RIP OFF. YOU GUYS NEED TO WAKE UP AND REALISE THIS IS A MAN WITH A WIFE AND 2 KIDS.
And back to square one, What's the moral meaning behind this media he displays for the youth?
Not Dhar Mann (a multi millionaire) copying the "NO CHICK-FIL-A SAUCE?" girl???? Smh...
So... Do you think Dhar Mann is really the innocent "moral philosopher" he claims himself as? Or is it deeper than a "Hey Dhar Mann Fam"?. But either way, that's it for today. Thank you all for listening to my Ted Talk.
SORRY GUYS IM HIGH ON VITAMIN GUMMIES (AGAIN) AND LIKE I DO THINK DHAR MANN IS MY SWORN ENEMY BUT LIKE YALL BETTER NOT TAKE THIS /SRS LMAOOOO🙏🙏🙏
#dhar mann#philosophy#theory#guys i actually cant do these serious tags#THIS IS FAR TOO FUNNY#AHAHGAHA#😭🙏
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Restless Rewatch: The Untamed, Episode 36 part one
(Masterpost) (Pinboard) (whole thing on AO3)
Warning! Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!
Lan Wangji’s alcohol tolerance has improved considerably since the last time he got drunk with Wei Wuxian; this time he does not face plant onto the table. He’s still totally hammered after a single drink, though. Lan Wangji doesn’t do anything halfway.
Wei Wuxian maneuvers him into their inn room (which does appear to have a second bed, alas) making the same vocalization that people in cdrama seem to use to settle skittish horses, and puts him into bed.
...Fully clothed, because the hair & costume department ain’t got time to be re-doing anybody’s outfit, we’ve got a schedule to keep here, people, let’s move!
The last time Wei Wuxian put a drunk Lan Wangji to bed, they were kids and he laid him down like a sack of potatoes.
This time he cradles his head, holds his hands, tucks him in, and comes within a censor’s breath of kissing him.
He’s obviously got a lot of feelings for Lan Wangji at this point, and I think he’s sort of aware of the nature of those feelings, but he is still not clear about what’s going on in Lan Wangji’s head and heart. So he continues to slap a veneer of playfulness over the deeper stuff that’s going on underneath...mostly.
(more behind the cut!)
Old Friends (Sat on the Park Bench Like Bookends)
While Lan Wanji sleeps, Wei Wuxian goes outside to find Wen Ning. Wen Ning shuffles up wearing comically huge chains and a deeply strung-out expression.
He’s so blank of expression, in fact, that the editor uses this exact same shot three times in the course of his interaction with Wei Wuxian, rather than bothering to film a longer take.
Wei Wuxian is delighted to see him; the only survivor, or sorta-survivor, that he’s seen from their little refugee village. He’s not delighted to see that Wen Ning barely recognizes him--although he recognizes him enough to come whenever he hears his flute playing, even though it’s a new flute, which is really very sweet. This kid got a sincere compliment from a beautiful upperclassman when he was a freshman and promptly signed his entire self over to that guy for the rest of eternity, and he’s not going to let death or mind control keep him away.
Wei Wuxian can tell something is wrong because of the heap of chains that Wen Ning is wearing, which weren’t part of his look in the old days. Critical Role fans like me are probably thinking of ways to sell these to a blacksmith.
After a little provocative hair pulling, Wei Wuxian extracts the control nails from Wen Ning’s skull.
Wen Ning: I hope this doesn’t awaken anything in me
Unlike the next time Wei Wuxian encounters this exact same technology, he doesn’t stop with one nail, but keeps poking around until he finds and removes the second one, which fully restores Wen Ning’s consciousness.
Wen Ning promptly feels bad about having killed Jin Zixuan, and kneels to apologize.
Wei Wuxian is like “dude, I’m so over it” and tries to get him to stand back up. When he won’t, Wei Wuxian kneels down too.
This is a gesture so important and powerful that he does it from two different camera angles, for emphasis.
It’s interesting, when you watch a mix of CDrama genres like I do, to see how kneeling is so often a huge deal in Wuxia, Xianxia, and whatever genre Dao Mu Bi Ji and Guardian are (Sci-fi? Fantasy? Ghostpunk? Gravepunk?), and then to watch a palace drama where non-emperor people spend endless time on their knees without appearing to have any feelings about it at all. I’m not saying these things are in conflict; kneeling is governed by a bunch of hierarchical stuff and in a palace drama, the hierarchy is all-pervasive, whereas in a Wuxia, it’s more nuanced.
Here, Wen Ning kneels to apologize to Wei Wuxian for killing his family member. Wei Wuxian, however, has come to a different understanding of that death; as Wen Qing told him long ago, Wen Ning is a knife. Wei Wuxian is the knife’s creator and wielder, which makes Wen Ning’s violence Wei Wuxian’s responsibility. By kneeling himself, he forces Wen Ning to get up and to start moving past that event.
Next, Wei Wuxian wants to cut Wen Ning’s chains off, but he needs a spiritual sword to do it so he plans to borrow Bichen. As soon as the words are out of his mouth, though, Lan Wangji appears, still drunk, and now also jealous.
Wen Ning wisely makes himself scarce, after a few obvious “scram” gestures from Wei Wuxian.
Shenanigans
After Wen Ning leaves, Wei Wuxian attempts to guide Lan Wangji back to their inn, and manages to get lost in this town with exactly four shooting locations, if you count the Inn’s dining room and bedroom as two locations.
Lan Wangji enjoys being lost and immediately gets busy stealing and tagging.
First, he steals a couple of chickens and gifts them to Wei Wuxian.
Much has been made of the “betrothal gift” aspect of this chicken situation, but I’m more interested in the “penis slang” aspect of the scene.
So, in English, the word “cock” can mean a male chicken, a.k.a. a rooster, and is also popular slang for a penis, as anyone ctrl-F’ing an AO3 page to get to the spicy bits knows.
Naturally this made me curious if the same association exists in Chinese. I’m not any kind of Chinese speaker, but Google Translate tells me that 雞 (jī) means “chicken,” 公雞 (gōngjī) means “rooster” or “male chicken”, 母雞 (mǔ jī) means “hen” or “mother chicken.”
...and 雞雞 (jī jī) means “dick.”
Google image search confirms that this isn’t some other type of “dick,” either. So, with that in mind...let’s look at what happens in the scene.
1. Lan Wangji gives Wei Wuxian one chicken. Wei Wuxian is confused. Lan Wangji gives him a second chicken.
2. Lan Wangji asks Wei Wuxian to evaluate his chicken(s), asking is it “肥‘ (féi), which Viki subtitles as “fat” but google translate tells me can also mean “fertile.”
3. Wei Wuxian says it’s fat and pets it, then gives it a thumbs up.
4. Lan Wangji wanders off while Wei Wuxian speculatively knocks their...chickens together..
Given that Chinese and wordplay go together like rama lama lama ka dinga da dinga dong, I’m going to go out on a limb and say I think there is possibly some sexual subtext hidden in this scene.
Sword Grafitti
Next, Drunkji decides to carve his name on a post, so that everyone will know he’s a chicken thief, I guess. Wei Wuxian reflects on how Lan Wangj, due to his repressed upbringing, is an even crazier drunk than Wei Wuxian is.
Book and/or Manhua readers are aware that these mild on-screen antics are not nearly the extent of their uncensored drunken craziness. Tags include: hand jobs, biting, pinching, dubious consent, improper use of the gusu lan forehead ribbon, under-negotiated everything, major injury to a bathtub.
Lan Wangji spends some time looking at Wei Wuxian’s suprasternal notch, and eventually allows himself to be dragged away from the farmyard.
Wei Wuxian puts his Lil-Apple dragging experience to good use here.
Having convinced Lan Wangji to stop vandalizing things, Wei Wuxian’s natural sense of mischief instantly recovers, and he runs back to carve his own name in the post next to Lan Wangji’s.
He also takes the opportunity to try out Lan Wangji’s signature move: cuddling his beloved under the guise of keeping him from falling over, while gazing at him yearningly.
Drunken Master
Back at the Inn, Drunkji looks at Wei Wuxian with 100% bedroom eyes, but unfortunately Su She in a mask has shown up to cockblock him.
Lan Wangji promptly sobers up the swordfighting part of his brain so he can bust a move.
Not for the first time in this show, we’re treated to a fight scene with beautifully executed fight choreography paired with weird camera framing and rapid, choppy editing.
Wei Wuxian stands back and carefully watches the swordfighting, analyzing the fight moves to try to figure out the identity of the masked dude. Then he throws a talisman at him to chain him up.
Fanfic writers, I feel like I should have read more stories featuring this particular talisman.
Anyway, with the virtue of hindsight, we know that this masked dude is ex-Gusu-Lan weasel Su She. How did Su She ever get to be such a strong cultivator? He holds his own in a sword fight with Hanguang-Jun, breaks a Yiling Laozu binding talisman, and teleports.
He still sucks, given that he’s not able to hang on to one little bag of corpse parts, but he’s definitely not the guy who couldn’t get his sword out of the lack back in their Gusu days. Maybe he’s getting regular doses of qi from Jin Guangyao, if you know what I mean.
Oh He May Get Weary
After the remarkably proficient fighting, Lan Wangji goes right back to being extremely drunk, so much so that he briefly irritates Wei Wuxian with how bad he is at drinking.
But the dynamic shifts very quickly as Wei Wuxian sees Lan Wangji’s vulnerability, and allows himself to treat him with tenderness.
It's not just sentimental no, no, no
She has her grief and care, yeah, yeah, yeah
But the soft words they are spoke so gentle, yeah
It makes it easier, easier to bear, yeah
We’re seeing a new side of Wei Wuxian in these moments. We have seen his devotion, his easy affection and his playfulness with his friends and loved ones. But tenderness is something he’s mainly reserved for Jiang Yanli.
Of course, he quickly moves along to mischief, asking Lan Wangji a series of questions about rulebreaking and rabbits. (Gifsets here and here)
Then he moves along to the serious question that’s been on his mind since their reunion: why are you helping me? In Wei Wuxian’s mind, he and Lan Wangji parted as enemies or perhaps frenemies; certainly not as allies. He doesn’t know about Lan Wangji’s grief or his true thoughts.
Lan Wangji gives him a serious answer, that he’s totally not prepared for: Lan Wangji regrets not being by Wei Wuxian’s side in the final battle.
Hearing this, Wei Wuxian comes a little unglued; he’s felt himself to be all alone, even while traveling together with Lan Wangji, and hearing that Lan Wangji has held him in his mind, possibly even in his heart, is overwhelming for him.
Wei Wuxian tries to tell him that he shouldn’t feel responsible for Wei Wuxian’s choices, but Lan Wangji refuses to acknowledge what he’s said, and drunkenly toddles off to bed.
Soundtrack: 1. Old Friends by Simon and Garfunkel 2. We Go Together, from Grease 3. Try a Little Tenderness by Otis Redding (but the version that is in my head forever is by that drunk Irish dude in The Committments, thanks VH1 circa 1991)
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I love korra! I love the legend of korra so much!! There's so much i love about this show!!
I grew up with atla, i remember coming home from school when i was a kid and watching atla and i loved it and later on, in my late teens i rewatched atla, from start to finish and i actually absorbed everything and i loved it so much more, atla is damn near perfect of a story for me!
And then i watched lok for the first time and i loved it too! I love the expansion of the world, i love the expansion on the lore, i love seeing how the world changed and develop, i loved republic city, i love that the world didn't stop after atla and that republic city was a something that the characters of atla developed. I love how much lore we got in lok, i love knowing that the lion turtle that came out of nowhere in the finale of atla, is actually the reason why bending exists in the first place, i love wan and ravva so much! I loved finding out how the avatar came to be!
I love the villains of this show, they're so much more than just straight up power hungry villains! I know some people think that amon being a bloodbender undermine the oppression of non benders and even though I'd have loved seeing a high level non bender villain, i absolutely love the story with amon! The villains of lok are genuinely one of the best part of this show!
And i just love korra! I love her journey, her growth and seeing the way some people talk about her, just makes me love her even more!
Yes, season 2 is my least favorite, but it's still so good and so fun! Some people act like it's the worst thing in television and it's just crazy! These people are so fucking dramatic!!
Yes, lok has flaws, yes, it's not as "perfect" as atla, but it's so fucking good!! And now that I'm older, i prefer lok, because it is more mature and more complex and just very compelling.
There's probably one thing i disliked about lok and it's the love triangle from the first 2 seasons, and even then, i didn't hate it, i was just annoyed.. and you know what, I'm more than okay with having 2 seasons of annoying love triangle stuff because it lead to korrasami!! Even though they barely got any screen time and some people still try to deny their relationship, I'm so glad it exists, I'm glad that korrasami is not just some non canon ship that fans like, it's actually fucking real! The creators made it as canon as they could!
In conclusion: i love atla, i love lok, i love korra and i fucking love korrasami!!
#every once in a while i watch a YouTube reaction series to atla and lok and i just relive my love for that world through other people#i just want more of that world i want those fucking movies like right now!!#avatar the last airbender#the legend of korra#avatar the legend of korra#atla#lok#korrasami#avatar studios#👑
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omg for a fic idea or fluff imagine maybe taking rocket to an earth amusement park/fair and he absolutely hates it XD
Omg omg okok I’ll do an imagine bc sadly I’m super bad at fluff (if you notice from my ao3 acc I have never touched the tag in my LIFE/hj)
Also warning you guys now, this imagine gives vol. 1 Rocket vibes (bc I’ve rewatched all 3 gotg films a normal amount to realize Rocket’s personality is always slightly different/more lighthearted with each sequel)
Also, the amusement park I picked was Universal Studios, enjoy :)
gif source <3 / masterlist!! / request stuff <3
“What the fuck are we doin’ here?”
Yeah, that was Rocket’s initial reaction when you both stop at the huge oscillating globe with the gigantic title of ‘Universal Studios’ wrapping around it.
You laughed, because he literally had no reason to look this grumpy at an amusement park but it was something you were used to by then.
“It’s an amusement park, Rocket.”
“Well I’m not very amused, you see,” he quipped sardonically.
This only made you snicker.
“Is my unamusement amusing you, humie?”
“That’s not a word!” You laughed.
“Fuck if I care.”
You and Rocket walk in eventually, and not even a minute of walking and Rocket starts getting bombarded for photos.
“No! Look lady if you don’t—”
“Everyone!” You yelled, holding out your hand in front of Rocket as if to protect him. “He’s not an employee here!”
Most people backed off, but there were some others that were still insisting that Rocket’s ‘cosplay’ was hyper-realistic.
Rocket at this point had more ‘important’ matters to attend to so you both decided to simply run off, Rocket scrambling on all fours as you book it to catch up to him.
“I don’t need you to protect me.”
“I know.”
“Then why did you put your arm over me like I was some wounded animal?”
“Because I was concerned for their safety, not yours,” you chuckled.
And, to your surprise, Rocket joins you in your laughter.
“Damn straight,” he remarked with a contented grin stretched across his face.
You guys eventually arrive to your first ride, and it’s the mummy ride. Rocket had already begun to scowl when he entered the area.
“What’s this?” He asked when you grabbed his hand and dragged him into the queue.
“The mummy ride. You’re not scared, are you?” You teased.
“We live in fucking space. Ain’t no way I’m gonna be scared of—”
Rocket screamed and practically cried non-stop on the entire ride, and when there were stops, a long, thundering string of curses were launched from his lips making parents with their kids glare at him after the ride was over.
You, on the other hand, were nothing but entertained.
“Oh my god, you should have seen your face! You were so fucking scared you couldn’t even—”
“Shut up! Fuckin’ hell you’d think they’d have windshields for that shit what the fuck was that?”
You laughed some more, but he didn’t stop you at all or comment on just how amusing this all seemed to you. He simply stole glances every time you laughed and you pretended not to notice for his sanity.
Next up; battlestar galactica.
The ride was outdoors so both of you could see the blue and red tracks very loosely intertwining with each other and having insane drops and loops. Every ten seconds was just another group of people lost to the thrill of the ride.
“Nu-uh. Nope.” Rocket was about to walk away but you hold him by the shoulder pad.
“You’re riding this with me, no exceptions.”
“Like fuck I’m doin’ that,” Rocket cursed.
“Oh come on! If you don’t come with me I can’t go!”
“What are you talking about?”
“I … I …”
Yeah, you didn’t wanna admit it but you had some of your own fears yourself. Any rollercoaster was doable as long as you had someone to wrap your arm around. You were kinda surprised when Rocket said nothing about you squeezing his arm for dear life in the mummy ride but now, there was probably no escaping it when he was looking at you so intently, eyes dragging all over your body as if he was searching for an anomaly in one of those inventions.
“Oh my,” he began teasingly, “you’re scared too.”
“No! I can do it I just—I can’t do it alone, come on Rocket.”
He grinned. It appeared it was his turn to be amused.
“Admit it, humie. You need me.”
You bit your lip.
“Rocket, stop being a dick and come with me.”
“Not until you admit that you can’t do it without me,” he repeated, your name falling out of his lips like he knew your legs grew weak at the way he says it.
You clenched your jaw, finally relenting with an audible, drawn out groan.
“Fine! You win! Rocket, please oh please I need you on this ride, please just ride it with me!” You said over dramatically, clamping your hands together before dropping them and slumping your shoulders in annoyance.
He couldn’t help but give a smug grin at your response.
He ambled in with his chest puffed out, hands shoved into his pockets as his ego had just been filled.
“Damn fuckin’ straight, humie,” he remarked. “You coming or what?”
You chase after him for the second time that day, not even realizing you were frozen in your spot.
Even after all that, it didn’t make him any less scared of the ride as he continued to scream and scratch at the shoulder restraints of the ride. By the time the ride was over, he was panting, his eyes darting around at the various workers who’s eyes widened at the sight of all the blackened claw marks on the seats.
“We gotta run.”
“Huh?”
Third time you chased after Rocket that day with the staff tailing both of you about the damages caused on the ride.
Needless to say, that was your one and only time going to an amusement park with your favorite trash panda.
He would never tell you this, but if you ever asked to go again, he could never gather the strength or courage to tell you no.
#this was so fun to write!! thank you anon hehe#he’s so soft I fucking love him sm#like outside of smut he’s the cutest lil baby#guardians of the galaxy#rocket raccoon#gotg#gotg fanfiction#gotg fic#gotg vol 3#rocket raccoon x you#rocket raccoon x reader#gotg vol 1#gotg vol 2#ask request#.alias.inbox.request.#.alias.drabbles.imagines.
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I was shocked that it seems like the longer videos are getting more views but I suppose those are the Actual Gaming™️ videos and therefore may breach containment more than say, the mean girls video (which was sooo good imo but probably wouldn’t draw in new viewers). Also given that a lot of their audience now are old and have Adult Lives (some of us even have kids!) it’s harder to keep up literally daily.
✨️ honest opinions time ✨️ i don't think i liked Mean Girls video that much. and don't get me wrong, i loved the roasts, it was the best part of the video. but something is stopping me from rewatching it. like, something was missing there. also, maybe the whole pink theme reminds me of the heartthrob videos so much that i'd rather look away. which is illogical, but oh well. i need to rewatch it, maybe i'll change my mind.
strangely (not really), i genuinely like the actual gaming videos. i love when they just dive into the games and focus on them more than on being entertaining™ for us. when they are having fun, i'm having fun. it's just interesting (looks like idk any other words. tragic) and fascinating. and i remember us all saying, "idc what they do, just give us joint content, it doesn't have to be gaming, and etc." hehehe, well, looks like we do care? i care. it doesn't mean i'm not gonna watch non-gaming content, but these long videos where we have time to understand and get familiar with the game are very special to me. kinda obsessed with dnp playing Poppy, ngl. it just has everything i like, and dnp are giving us the variety of genuine reactions to what's happening on the screen. bless!
totally agree on us being adults and it affecting the views.
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Mixing Slushies (Stu Macher x Reader)
oof I've been craving to write a solo for this boy for a WHILE so I hope you enjoy!! I feel like this story has a slightly different tone from what I usually write so please let me know if you liked it.
Stu Macher x AMAB!Reader (he/they)
Summary: He'd seen you crying in your bathroom over your parents fighting, seen you high and so out of your mind you had struggled to even talk, and knew you got slushies in both red and blue flavors but always poured red first and you never stirred it up. You let yourself hug him back, trying to avoid smudging the eyeliner you wore all over his shirt. WARNING: 18+, rude language, period-typical homophobia, recreational drug/alcohol use, discussion of murder, knifeplay, fearplay, mild choking
Living in Woodsboro had come with certain... challenges. Your dad being on the police force had been one of those challenges, since being the chief's son and openly gender non-conforming came with a special kind of bullying. Kids your own age and adults your father worked with seemed to almost take turns giving impolite-but-polite comments about how you dressed or just straight up insults on your general person. It was all just a part of growing up for you, something you believed you'd be doomed to accept if you didn't conform.
Your father was certainly of no help, whining to your mother constantly how he didn't want a "sissy" for a son and only shouting at you when you tried to argue with him. So, you resigned yourself to being bullied, believing that to be your fate till you could blow this fucking town. Get out and never look back.
Until you met Stu Macher.
The two of you met properly when you were both freshmen in high school, but you'd known him since your father transferred to Woodsboro the previous year. Though he'd never really caught your attention then. Too-tall and gangly, the class clown sort of guy. You'd only had one class together in eighth grade so it wasn't like you had to deal with him often. You didn't hate him, he just didn't stand out. He'd notice your outfits though and the friends he hung out with at the time would point and laugh, even if he just smiled at you.
Thankfully, by the time high school rolled around, kids generally had better things to do than give a shit if you wore a skirt or eyeliner to school. Besides, it was fun, fuck all of them. First week went by easy but on the second week, some of the seniors were giving you shit, trying to pull on your hair and trip you up. It was quick to stop after Stu Macher punched one so hard he broke his nose. You still fondly remember the sickening crunch, the waterfall of blood, and the bright smile Stu had given you. Like he'd been holding that in for months.
No one ever really bothered you after that. But Stu still did.
He'd always be trailing after you, asking about your new skateboard or trying to steal your headphones to see what music you were listening to on your Walkman. At first it was annoying but you slowly began opening up to him, especially after he'd defended you. Only reason he didn't have detention was because the guys he hit didn't want to be humiliated by losing to a freshman half their size.
So you two started to hang out as friends. You'd drag Stu to some abandoned train tracks and teach him to skateboard or he'd take you to his house to watch movies. Horror movies quickly became your favorite, the two of you spent hours gushing over how the movies were filmed, the stories, everything. Even rewatching movies you'd seen was fun with Stu. He had an interest in becoming a director so he would always try to explain how the scenes were shot but you'd both become overexcited at the blood and gore.
It was common knowledge to most in your neighborhood that your parents fought. They'd have screaming matches well into the night and the cops had even been called to investigate 'domestic disturbances' that your neighbors phoned in. Whenever the screaming started now, you'd just sneak out your window and head to the Macher farmhouse or sneak the lanky boy in through your window.
He never judged you when you sobbed when the fights turned aggressive, shouts and the shattering of plates making their way under your locked bedroom door as they fought. He'd lay against your headboard with you in between his legs against his chest and let you listen to music, tracing idle patterns on his arm as you zoned out. By the time red and blue lights flashed outside, you'd both be asleep.
You remembered one night in particular, the last fight your parents had before the divorce, how he'd come crawling in your window after the shouting had died down and your dad had left for a bar and mom was sobbing in her room. How Stu had lay beside you in you bed for hours, the two of you pressed together on the twin mattress. You'd buried your face in his chest and he rubbed circles in your back, only pausing in his motions when your sobs shook your whole body. He'd whispered reassurances to you, promises that he'd kill them if he could to spare you the pain, and soft little jokes to try and get you to laugh.
You hadn't, but his efforts were appreciated.
You spent most of that school year with the Macher family. Mrs Macher adored you and was relieved her son had a friend like you. You helped out around the house way more than any of her actual kids and she understood what it was like to deal with divorced parents. She and Stu's biological dad had gotten divorced not long after he was born but her new husband was so much better for them. She hoped you'd find the same comforts if your parents remarried.
You didn't tell her how Stu still called his dad some nights. How he'd drag you to pay phones after school to call him all the way in Europe. He missed him, just didn't know how to cope with that. The dial tone you were met with broke his heart a little more every time and you'd take him to get slushies afterwards to cheer him up.
Taking Stu into town to raid convenience stores had been the most fun you'd ever had. He always got blue and you'd get red and blue, scolding him whenever he tried to mix your drink to see if it'd make purple. Eventually, his curiosity got the better of him and he'd drink his own mixed up slushies with you on the side of the road. The summers were warm and it was easy for you two to stay out late, eating low-quality food and bathing in the LED lights outside wearing t-shirts and shorts, and holding hands as you ventured down the dark, empty Woodsboro streets together.
"I never want to go home," you'd told him one night while you sat on the curb outside the little store. "I just want to stay here with you forever."
He'd given you the softest look imaginable, half his face illuminated by the harsh blue lights leaking through the huge windows of the store behind you. "Yeah?" He'd had a particularly soft look in his eye when he spoke, voice all quiet.
You'd nodded, taking a loud slurp of your drink. "Everything's better with you around." You'd said it so plainly, brushing off the feeling of your own heart pounding at the admission.
He'd looked away, cheeks tinted pink, and you'd punched his arm gently for it and smiled when he laughed. The two of you sat drinking slushies alone together on the street. You'd only looked back over when Stu looked over his shoulder. When you followed his gaze, you raised an eyebrow. Why the hell was he staring at the cashier?
You got your answer when he quickly leaned over to kiss your cheek, a chaste thing that had your face heating up so fast that even holding your chilled hand to your face afterwards did nothing to cool you down. "You bastard!" You'd laughed, kicking at him while he stood up, giggling.
"You like me, you like me!" He taunted and you chased after him, the two of you laughing against the darkness, worn shoes hitting hard on the pavement.
It was that summer between freshman and sophomore year when you realized you were in love with him.
It had been an average summer day, lounging in Stu's room in a t-shirt and boxers. He'd gone out to grab snacks for you two and should've been back about half an hour ago. When he finally came home with a black eye, bloody nose, and bloody knuckles, he'd barely sat still long enough for you to bandage him. He wouldn't give you a straight answer about what happened to him or tell you what happened to the other guy.
But it was at that moment you'd wanted to kiss him and you felt so sick after the fact you couldn't even eat dinner, no matter how much Stu's mom pressed you to.
You did your best to keep Stu from finding out. Hanging out with him was still normal enough but it always left you with butterflies in your stomach.
It felt horrible. It felt like lying to him.
By the time sophomore year was in full swing though, Stu was all over Billy Loomis suddenly, leaving you alone most of the time. Which was fine, you told yourself. It was fine. So you made acquaintance with the skater kids, spent time smoking weed, and did whatever possible to avoid spending time at home, your's or Stu's. You ate alone outside the cafeteria and still wore skirts and eyeliner. You convinced yourself you didn't give a shit about Stu Macher. It was fine.
It wasn't.
The last time you saw him was when your mom was loading up her belongings into a small moving truck. The long, drawn-out custody battle had belongings split up appropriately, your dad being left the house while mom got the truck. So she wanted to move to pursue her dreams of becoming a famous Hollywood actress. You'd been helping load up boxes into the truck when you saw Stu watching you from across the street.
Once you'd set the box in the truck, you made your way over to him, frowning at the wistful look on his face. "So you're really going?" He hadn't looked at you as he spoke, just staring longingly at your empty bedroom window.
You crossed your arms over you chest, the fleece jacket you wore suddenly feeling too hot. "Guess so. Mom's found this shitty little apartment in Hollywood she wants to move to. Dad didn't want custody of me so... I'm going with her. Order of the state, I guess." Soft green eyes fell on you, unshed tears lingering.
You looked away from him when he spoke up. "I'm gonna miss you, y'know? Wish you could stay..."
You remember that you both had cried a little but you don't remember who had moved in to the kiss first. What you do know is you definitely kissed Stu Macher outside your shitty house in a shitty, bitterly cold November winter. And for the first time since you'd moved to Woodsboro, you didn't want to leave.
At first, you were incredibly supportive of your mother's dreams, a little happy to be away from your dad in Woodsboro and painful memories of the divorce, the bullying, and your unrequited-maybe-requited love for Stu Macher. Sure, you missed him like hell and it was annoying to change schools halfway through a semester, but the kids at your new school paid you little to no attention. Even when you'd let your hair grow down to your shoulders and cut yourself bangs with safety scissors in the school bathroom with some girls' help. You started selling weed and whatever stuff you could get your hands on to the older kids for cash and you were content for awhile.
You let yourself admire pretty boys in LA and made superficial friends with kids a grade above you that you didn't give a shit about but were fun to pass time with. One of the junior girls, Becky, had even taken you to their prom so you could all hang out. The rest of sophomore year and your entire junior year was mostly uneventful for you, thank god. Your older friends skipped their senior prom and took you out to McDonalds with the sole intent to get high later.
You were happy. As happy as you could be, anyways.
Until your mother stopped coming home. Always off to some rehearsal that was never always a real rehearsal and sometimes just her going off to get shitfaced with friends she'd made. Like mother, like son, perhaps. You rarely had food in the house anymore so you had to get a part time job in order to feed yourself. Most days, dinner was whatever you could steal from the cafeteria at school.
Things got harder when you both got evicted. Mom hadn't been paying rent. So you packed up your things and called your dad.
He had been... hesitant to let you move back home. After all, you only had one more year of school. But with your eighteenth birthday coming up, your dad agreed to let you stay with him for the last year of schooling. Your mothers drinking and drug habits eventually cost her custody of you. Most of the summer was spent packing your room and driving with your dad back upstate when he came to collect you.
If you closed your eyes, you can still hear her haunting wails as she begged you to stay with her.
Moving back to Woodsboro was... well, easy honestly. You settled back into your old room and had a chance to redecorate. Of course, dad tried to set harder limits with you but when you agreed to just pay part of the rent like you were a tenant, he relaxed a little. He didn't have to parent you, he could just be your landlord instead. It was an acceptable arrangement. You got a part time job at a records store nearby that summer, you turned eighteen, and you were surviving. Even if you had to buy your own food, that wasn't new for you. Thanks mom, you had groaned internally to yourself as you ate at Burger King more nights than not.
Senior year was going to be stressful, you knew that. A part of you had kind of assumed Stu wouldn't even remember you, that he'd likely gotten a girlfriend, joined some sports team, or had just plain moved on with his life. You two hadn't even kept up over the past few years, despite the fact you could have called to him or written to him.
You just... didn't.
You'd spend hours staring at the phone trying to will yourself to call him but it was too hard. It would be painful to listen to him gush about a girlfriend at school or talk about how successful he was compared to yourself. Though in hindsight, had you known you'd be coming back after a year and a half, maybe you would have just done it anyways.
Regardless, you showed up to senior year skating. You'd always loved skateboarding and had kept up the hobby while in Hollywood. Plus it made moving around faster. Your hair was still messy and intentionally unkempt, you had an oversized graphic t-shirts, and a worn flannel tied around your waist. The ripped jeans and dingy shoes you wore were the icing on the cake. You bailed off the board when you got close to the steps, carrying it under one arm as you made your way up to the front doors, ignoring the looks the freshmen kids gave you. The staring wasn't exactly new to you.
What was new was how fucking tall Stu Macher had gotten.
Seeing him leaning against a locker chatting with some girl made your stomach feel weird and tight. You'd recognize Casey Becker anywhere and suddenly found yourself wishing you could set her head on fire with your mind. You may have liked Stu when you were fifteen, but surely things were different now, you told yourself. Still... that didn't mean you had to like how goo-goo eyed he got while talking to her. So you looked away. You didn't see how he lit up when he saw you nor how he trailed off talking to Casey fucking Becker because he saw you. You just pressed onwards through the bustling hallways, headphones tight around your head and your eyes on the floor.
Until Stu lifted you up in his arms and spun you around.
"Fuck!" You screamed in shock, headphones falling off your head as he hugged you.
"You're back, you're really back! I heard you were back in town but I thought Randy was bullshitting me!" He was smiling at you with that bright look he always had when he was excited. "Hollywood not work out, superstar?" His snickering made you roll your eyes, mostly out of fondness. Same old annoying ass boy...
"More like mom crashed and burnt. I'm only back so I don't have to live on the streets," you shrugged but Stu's hands didn't leave their spot on your shoulders. "Didn't, uh... didn't think you'd miss me so much."
"Didn't miss you!?" He stared at you like you'd grown two heads. "Dude, I was fucking crushed when you left!" You bit your lip nervously and avoided his gaze. Neither of you were going to talk about the kiss, you knew that much. At least not in public. "I missed you more than anything. Missed you every fucking day." His soft tone had you staring up at him with wide, shocked eyes. He pulled you in for another hug and you immediately deflated, dropping the hard act you always put on for everyone else and wrapping your arms around him.
Stu wasn't like everyone else. He never had been.
He'd seen you crying in your bathroom over your parents fighting, seen you high and so out of your mind you had struggled to even talk, and knew you got slushies in both red and blue flavors but always poured red first and you never stirred it up. You let yourself hug him back, trying to avoid smudging the eyeliner you wore all over his shirt.
"I missed you too..." You mumbled, slowly becoming aware of the feeling of eyes on you. When you pulled back though, it wasn't the students lingering by their lockers or walking past you that were staring. It was Stu's friends, giving confused looks at you and each other. You recognized Billy Loomis and Randy Meeks at least but the two girls that followed them took you a minute to recognize. "They, uh, are they all your friends?" You gestured over his shoulder to where they were, which got Stu to turn and look when they approached you two.
"Oh! Hey guys, when'd you get here?" He grinned at you and you raised an eyebrow.
"Just arrived," Billy smirked and looked between you and Stu. "Tatum was looking for ya, actually." The ginger girl crossed her arms over her chest and was giving you a suspicious look.
"I thought you hated Tatum Riley." You mumbled to Stu's back as he led introduced you to the group: Billy Loomis, Sidney Prescott, Tatum Riley, and Randy Meeks. The latter couldn't seem to help his staring at you in particular.
"Nice, uh, style?" Randy tilted his head curiously at you. "What's the shirt for?" You glanced down at yourself and the shirt you had on. A sharpened candy cane with blood dripping down from it.
Smirking at Randy, you tugged the fabric of your shirt down a bit to let him see better. "It's for Black Christmas. A horror movie about a killer at Christmas who kills a whole sorority of girls."
Stu leaned up against the wall of behind you, peering over your shoulder. "That was always your favorite. We watched that at least, like, a million times." You shrugged lightly at his teasing with a soft smile. Of course he remembered, you made him watch that movie with you at least a dozen times in December alone.
Randy crossed his arms over his chest, looking smug all of a sudden. "Well, did you know that Black Christmas-"
"-was the inspiration for Halloween? Was filmed in Canada but the lead actress was British? Had so many people playing the killer that the director had no idea who did the iconic body-shot?" You cut him off, smirking at the clear surprise on his face. "Yeah, I'm not just pretty." Stu cackled at Randy's blush, obviously trying to hide how impressed he was.
"Ugh, not another boy obsessed with horror movies," Tatum rolled her eyes, nudging Sydney with her hip. "You and Randy will be like peas in a pod if you know trivia like that."
Something flashed over Stu's face briefly when she said that. "Well, sucks for Randy, I got dibs years ago." He said, straightening up.
As the group began chatting, you looked over at Billy Loomis, who had stayed particularly quiet the entire time, and were surprised to find him staring back at you. You raised an eyebrow and he tilted his head with a slight smile. It didn't strike you as strange immediately but you got the feeling Billy was sizing you up somehow. You didn't particularly care one way or another about the guy. He was friends with Stu, sure, but thats where it began and ended with you.
Not to mention you were still a bit jealous and bitter Stu had picked him over you all sophomore year up until you'd moved away.
But you got the impression Stu would be dragging you to group outings more. Maybe it would be better to get along with the rest of his friends.
The sound of rocks at your window was almost nostalgic, you thought, as you made your way to your window and slid it open. Stu was standing down in your front yard, his car parked in the driveway. Your dad had been called out for a night shift so you had been alone at home doing homework. The sticky September heat was getting to your head and you felt agitated and tired.
Seeing Stu boosted your mood a bit. "What brings you here, stranger?" You teased, crossing your arms on the windowsill as you leant against it.
The taller boy grinned up at you. "Wanna get out of here? Like old times?"
You scoffed. "Old times? Like, a year and a half ago?"
"Is that a no?" Stu pouted dramatically and you rolled your eyes fondly.
"Gimme a sec to change." You shut your window and blinds and started rooting around your room. A plain white tank top and high waisted jeans would be cute, you hummed to yourself. But it was too warm for pants, so you settled on a navy blue knee-length skirt you had in your closet. You usually went for darker colors when dressing but Stu wouldn't care how you looked one way or another. As if he knew a thing about fashion, you snorted to yourself as you recalled how he'd go days wearing the same pair of jeans.
Running a brush through your hair, you huffed at yourself. You could do your eyeshadow but with how dark it was, it wouldn't really be worth it. Instead, you put in your various piercings and made your way downstairs. Grabbing your wallet and keys, you made sure to lock the door behind you. Stu stood dressed in his classic jeans and a blue t-shirt, looking you up and down teasingly.
"Some things never change though, huh?" He gestured to your style and smiled wider when you flipped him off.
"You're still a jackass, so maybe you're right, yeah." You shot back, Stu laughing at your snark and watched with amusement as you took shotgun next to him. "Do you still have shitty taste in music?"
Stu balked at your tone as you started checking the radio stations. "I've never had shitty taste! Maybe if you had stayed, it could be to your standards." You knew he was joking but you still picked absently at a loose thread on your skirt, resting your feet up on the dashboard.
"I'm... you know I'm sorry about that, right?" Your voice was quiet as Stu started up the car. "I didn't get a say in the matter, dad didn't fucking want me."
Stu was quiet for a moment before reaching over the center console to squeeze your hand. Neither of you said anything but you let your fingers lace together in your lap and you blushed. Feelings for your friend hadn't really faded, just got put on a back-burner. It was... difficult to tell if Stu felt the same. On one hand, you suspected he was dating Casey Becker but on the other hand he was way too touchy with you to be completely disinterested.
The drive to the 7-11 was mostly silent except for the soft, tinny music leaking from the car's speakers. Some song by Nirvana, you recognized, but it was too quiet to make out the lyrics. Stu squeezed your hand as he pulled into the parking lot and the two of you stepped out.
The bright fluorescent lights felt more like home than your actual house.
"So, what trouble have you gotten into while I was gone?" You teased Stu as you followed him down the chips aisle. "Nothing I'd miss, surely?" It was mostly a jest but a part of you was a little worried he had more fun with you gone.
Stu just laughed, grabbing a few small chip bags and tossing your favorite flavor to catch. "Nah, nothing's as fun as causing trouble with you," he gave you a playful wink and you lightly kicked at his ankle. "Though... I guess something weird happened when you left."
"Oh?" You tilted your head curiously and followed him to the desserts aisle, grabbing Hostess sweets and a cup of mini Oreos. "What happened?"
Stu rubbed the back of his neck, glaring down at a Twinkie in thought. "Well, uh, Sydney's mom got murdered."
Your head snapped around to stare at him, horrified. "...weird isn't the word I'd use to describe that Stu! Christ, what happened?" You pestered him, poking him with a Twinkie.
"No one knows," the taller man shrugged, "got killed by one of her many, many hookups. Police didn't give too many details." You whistled, shaking your head in disbelief. You'd heard of Sydney's moms... history. You didn't really care that much, it wasn't like it was your business. "Killer's been sent to death though! Injection, according to the news." Stu continued as he followed you towards the slushie machine.
"Sounds... really fucking horrible, god," you said almost breathlessly. "Is Syd okay?" You were never very close to Sydney Prescott or her parents but you still felt a pit in your stomach hearing about the horrors she'd experienced only a year ago.
Stu nodded. "Yeah, she and Billy have actually been dating for a few years now! Got together after winter break in sophomore year actually, she's pretty nice." He handed you a slushie, made exactly how you liked it. You gave him a slight smile and followed him to cash out, absentmindedly sipping on the drink and staring out the glass doors.
Once you both were back in Stu's car, he started driving. The cool night lit up by the city lights was pretty. You admired the way the lights got smaller as Stu took you both up a bit into the mountains. "Where are we going?"
"There's a pretty sick spot just up here. Gives you a good view of the town, I think you're gonna love it." He gave you a mischievous look and turned up the music. The soft indie music washed over you for the short drive up the mountainside until you reached a clearing. Tall grasses enveloped a few picnic benches that sat not far from where you parked but Stu didn't move towards them.
The car had AC anyways so the two of you caught up in relative peace while you ate. You told him about your weed habits, going to junior prom in sophmore year, and your inebriated mother that was probably still trying to drink her way into a job. He told you about his relationship with Casey Becker and how she'd dumped him not long before school started to date Steven Orth.
"Steven Orth?!" You gawked, disgusted. "He's, like, a total fucking douchebag!"
"I know!" Stu lamented, burying his face in his hands. "Honestly, all the football players are asshats, you have no idea!"
As was tradition, the two of you had been debating about A Nightmare on Elm Street when you'd felt the energy shift. You'd been in the middle of explaining how the police should have known Rod Lane couldn't have killed Tina Gray because he was absolutely spotless while the rest of the room was a bloodbath when you noticed Stu's looking you over. Closely.
"Do you ever think about it?" He interrupted you quietly.
"Think about... what?" You asked innocently, tilting your head. You both were sitting awkwardly in the backseat, cross-legged and facing each other. Stu lay his head a bit on the headrest of his seat as he stared at you, blinking slowly.
"You know what." He mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.
You did. But you wanted to hear him say it. "Nightmare on Elm Street? I mean, not usually, it's nowhere near my favorite-"
Stu smirked and nudged you lightly with his knee. "Not the movie, dumbass. I mean... the day you left."
You gave him a quick glare. "Say it."
Stu frowned, chewing on his bottom lip. "When we kissed." His voice was barely a whisper.
You folded your legs up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them as you both avoided looking at each other. "Yeah, sometimes." You felt his eyes on you when you spoke. "Thought about it the entire drive to Hollywood too."
"Do you want to..." Stu trailed off and you gave him a look. "Do you want to do it again?" He was suddenly fascinated by your shoes, staring intensely to avoid looking at you.
The silence felt deafening as you weighed the pros and cons in your mind, of which there were only a few cons you could think of at the moment.
Quietly, you pushed his back up against the seat so he was now facing the front of the car and you straddled his lap, blushing when his hands instinctively moved to hold your hips. His eyes were as wide as dinner plates when you leant in to kiss him, effectively answering his question.
Pulling back and pressing your foreheads together, you were both effectively out of breath and you could feel you both were half hard. The two of you had been making out for the better part of half an hour and you felt your blood singing. Stu had one hand under your skirt, toying with the hem of your underwear, and another hand gripping your hips to help maintain a slow grind with you. Your hands were tight on his shoulders and your head felt heavy. "How," you panted softly, "far are we taking this?"
Stu pressed his forehead to your chest, grinning wildly. "As far as you want, honestly." He huffed before gazing up at you with bright eyes. "Would love to fuck you though." You felt your face heat up and you whined in response, rocking harshly against Stu. "Yeah?" He teased you, running his hands up your left leg and caressing your inner thigh. "You want that?"
"You're a bitch," you whined, tilting your head back. Stu took the opening to kiss your neck, biting down gently. You tightened your legs around his waist and tried to avoid hitting the horn on the steering wheel. He lifted your skirt more to give himself easier access to you, his hands reaching down to cup your ass.
"I'm your bitch," he countered with a giggle. You kissed him, biting on his lower lip to try and gain entry to his mouth. Pressing your tongues together was sultry, made your cock throb with need. When you scraped your nails down Stu's arms, he groaned into your mouth. "Oh god, fuck," he gasped as he pulled away, thrusting his hips up involuntarily as little pink lines popped up on his skin. "Fuck, please say I can fuck you babe, please."
You hummed, nodding enthusiastically. "Okay," you whispered to him, burying your face in his neck. "Just- Just be gentle, okay?" You didn't want to tell Stu you hadn't had sex before, but you hoped he could just tell. He pulled your shirt up and over your head, tossing it to the backseat. You kissed him again, tugging on his shirt as well. "Off." You said defiantly and he relented, letting you pull off his shirt.
"So bossy," he teased and kissed you again. "Missed you more than anything." Stu ran his hands up your flanks, hiking your skirt up.
The laugh bubbled in your throat, threatening to escape. "You jus' saying that 'cause you're gonna get laid?" You teased.
Stu pressed kisses to your throat with a thoughtful hum. "Obviously," he smiled, sarcasm oozing from his voice, "been waitin' to do this since we were, fuckin', fifteen or something. Sooo, obviously, once we're done 'm gonna go get a girlfriend or something." He joked, kissing you softly.
You just rolled your eyes when you pulled back. His words took a minute to set in. "Wait, that long?!" Your eyes widened almost comically.
Stu rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly looking shy. "Yeah, I, uh, I've liked ya for awhile, baby." For some reason, that was what made you blush.
"Gay," you grumbled, kissing him again. "You gonna fuck me or not?"
"Oh, such a romantic!" Stu fanned himself dramatically, fake moaning. You smacked his chest playfully as he shifted you off his lap. "One sec," he huffed, reaching over the center console to open the glove box. He pulled out a bottle of lube and sat back down.
You blinked. "You have a habit of having sex in your car?" Stu blushed and you raised an eyebrow.
"Nah, uh, just a habit of jerking it when I skip class." He shot you a wink and unbuttoned his jeans. You rolled your eyes, moving to pull your skirt down but Stu stilled your hands. "Uhh... can I uh- can I fuck you in the skirt?"
You stared at him. "Yeah, s-sure." You swallowed and tugged your underwear down, setting it aside before climbing back in Stu's lap. He looped his arms around your waist with a content sigh. "What, you got a thing for skirts?" You joked, running a hand through his hair.
Stu looked up at you, resting his chin on your middle. "Just got a thing for you."
The two of you stared at each other for a long moment before you sank onto his lap with a whine, kissing him deeply. He ran his hands up under the back of your tank top and pulled it off over your head. Slowly, he ran his hands slowly up your thighs and you felt yourself jump. "Cold," you mumbled, pressing your face into his neck.
He leant his head against yours with a soft chuckle. "You do this before?" Your deafening silence made Stu still. "Wait, really?"
"Who would I have slept with?" You pulled back to squint at him.
"I dunno!" He pouted. "Maybe I thought you got a boyfriend or somethin' out in Cali!"
Softening, you cupped his face. "No. Just- just you..." His eyes widened and you felt your face heat up. "Wait-"
"I'm your boyfriend?" Stu's voice was soft and you felt his arms tighten around you. You couldn't bear to look at him, face hot and embarrassed tears pricking your eyes. "Hey, don't cry- Baby, look at me."
When you finally looked at him, tears falling down your cheeks and burning your eyes, he was staring up at you like you were the only thing in the world. He brushed his thumb under your eyes and kissed you. "I'll happily be your boyfriend. If ya want, y'know." You giggled wetly at his attempts to be nonchalant about it. Nodding, you sniffled and he kissed along your neck.
Leave it to Stu to make you weepy and then immediately return to wanting to fuck you.
He bit down gently, sucking small hickies into your neck and making you writhe in his hold. "Stu-"
"Look, if I'm your boyfriend, I gotta make sure everyone else knows." He gave you a wink and your blush got worse somehow. His hands ran back up your skirt and you ground your erection against the rough material of his jeans. "Aww, want me that bad?" He taunted you.
You heard the cap of the lube bottle crack open and you tensed instinctively. "Shh," Stu whispered in your ear and let you hide your face in his neck. "It's okay baby, easy." His words soothed you a little bit but you still tensed up a bit. "Lemme love on ya a lil, yeah?"
In hindsight, Stu should have probably held the bottle in his hands a bit before prepping you. In hindsight, had you known the two of you would be having sex in his car, you would have moved to the back in the first place to prevent you accidentally setting off the car alarm when you leant back.
But neither of those things were considered. So, here you two were: in the backseat of his car, both now undressed minus your skirt, with you on your back and him leaning overtop of you, one of your legs hooked over his shoulder and the other pushed aside into the open space behind the driver seat. Stu's face was flushed red and you swung an arm over your eyes to avoid being looked at.
Gently, he brushed your arm away and pinned your arm above your head. You shuddered when he pressed the head of his cock against you - closing your eyes at the phantom feelings his fingers left behind inside you. He was shockingly gentle and thorough during the prep, pulling you apart to a begging mess with his hand alone. Biting and kissing on your neck as you rocked your hips against him, pleading with him for more, faster, anything-
"Lemme look atcha," Stu chuckled once your face was in view again. You whined and rocked against him, wordlessly begging. "Ask me nicely, baby. Tell me whatcha want."
You let out a helpless moan. "Fuck me, please, Stu. Need you so bad-"
"Anything for you," was the only warning you got before he pressed the head of his cock inside you. You threw your head back instinctively with a soft moan at the feeling of being opened like that. Hot and wet and-
"Fuck, please-" You begged, blindly reaching for your boy. He held your hand - because he was good like that - and kissed your knuckles. He gave you what you wanted and slid in deeper. Slowly. Making sure you feel every inch. Quickly, you snapped a hand over your mouth to muffle the loud moan.
Stu put a hand against your throat and squeezed. Not hard enough to choke you properly, but enough to make your body tense instinctively. "Don't do that baby, c'mon, you're doin' so well."
You dropped the hand and let out a moan, biting on your lip. Stu seemed pleased by this but he kept his hand on your neck as he moved his hips slowly. He hadn't bottomed out yet but he'd already begun a slow back and fourth, in and out of you. Working his way inside you, letting your insides get hot and gooey from the lube and from his pre.
When he finally, finally, bottomed out, you were shaking from the sensations of being filled, of being fucked. Stu leant forward and kissed you, squeezing harder at your neck to make you squeak. "That's my pretty boy," he said breathlessly. "Fuck, you're jus' made for me, huh? Made to take my cock, look at you."
You turned your head to the side, feeling yourself burn under his gaze - blue eyes completely eclipsed and making you feel seen. Your eye caught a glimpse of something metal reflecting the moonlight seeping in from the car's window. As soon as you realized what it was, you felt yourself clench down on the cock inside you.
Stu followed your eyes with a slow smile. Gently reaching over under the passenger's door, he pulled out a sharp hunting knife. Clean - too clean, your logical mind tried to scream but you were too focused on being fucked to care - and a mask. A white face that reminded you of Scream painting you'd seen in an art class in Cali.
He turned the knife over in his hand, looking you over almost curiously. "You like it?" His voice was practically taunting. "Just like those horror movies. Wanna be the cute slut who dies first?" His voice had a menacing edge to it, making you whimper. "Nah," he said softly, kissing you again. "You're my final girl, without a doubt."
"Stu-" You choked out, clenching your thighs around his hips.
Slowly, he looked at the mask, then the knife, and then back at you. You writhed under his gaze, wanting him to move. Slowly, he put the mask on over his face. The white mask combined with the black hood completely obscured his face. You could hear his heavy breathing as he turned the knife over in his hand.
You helplessly let out a moan as he snapped his hips forward.
"Please-" you begged, feeling the knife drag up and down your spread thighs. A featherlight touch but a touch nonetheless. It was fucked up. You knew that. You should tell him to stop, that this was insane.
But fuck if you didn't like it anyways.
Stu tilted his head - it reminded you of Michael Myers observing prey - and you rocked back against him. "Is this how my final girl survives?" His voice was lower, muffled by the mask. "Caught by the killer and offers him sex to survive?"
You nodded frantically, letting the fantasy of the words wash over you, and you felt his hand around your throat again.
Overtop of you, Stu barely looked like himself. Hand at your neck, knife at your thigh, and empty eyes of the mask boring into you. He picked up the pace, fucking you faster and tracing the point of the knife up over your abdomen. "God you're gorgeous," you heard Stu say to himself. "I wanna carve you open and keep you all to myself. Rip your heart out so no one else can have it."
Despite how fucked up it was, you only moaned louder.
The wet squelching sounds from the copious amounts of lube as well as Stu's own precum made the sex sound foul. Like you were some helpless final girl, caught and pinned by her own killer. But you liked it. And wasn't that the sick, twisted part of it all.
Because you knew it was Stu. Who would never hurt you really. Who you were pretty sure didn't have a killer bone in his body, much less against you.
"G-gonna- Gonna cum-" You gritted your teeth to hold back another moan.
"Go on princess, cum for me. Show me how good you feel." You felt the point of the knife teasing your cock and the cold shock of the metal was what did you in. You came helplessly, back bowing, and all but gushing over the knife and on your skirt. "Fuck, such a good boy." Stu growled, fucking you through your orgasm and reaching his own.
Cum pooled inside you, hot, sticky, and you fucking loved it. You felt drunk off the feeling, trembling in Stu's hold.
The mask came off then. Stu's hair stuck to his forehead a bit from sweat but his eyes were bright and he was smiling at you like you'd given him the world. You gave him a soft smile back and winced when he pulled out. "Damn, babe, I knew you had it in ya! You'd make a killer final girl." He shot you a wink before reaching for the center console to grab wet wipes.
You scoffed. "Obviously. I'm built for the role. Unless I'm the killer and then you're my final girl."
Stu seemed to light up at that. "Aww, that's the sweetest thing anyone's said to me," he fanned himself dramatically, making you laugh. He was methodical in cleaning you both up, letting you enjoy your afterglow. Once he was done, you snagged his shirt and pulled it on over your head.
That got a reaction. His eyes widened ever so slightly and you beckoned him towards you with a finger. "C'mere," you mumbled, "I wanna cuddle before we have to go back." It was late after all. And you still had school in the morning, as tragic as it was.
Stu held you in his lap, playing absentmindedly with your hair as he stared at the mask and knife he'd returned under the seat in front of him. Maybe he'd tell you. Let you in on his and Billy's plan for later that fall. Maybe you'd help out, join in on being Ghostface. Or, at the very least, know to stay out of their way to avoid being killed. Or maybe he wouldn't tell you.
But the thought of you getting hurt made his stomach hurt.
Later, he'd call Billy and tell him. That either you were completely off the table or you were going to be involved. Billy would listen to his rambles quietly the whole time. Once Stu was done, Billy would tell him they'd talk about it at school tomorrow - face to face. And Stu would recognize that Billy's wasn't that angry tone he sometimes had when Stu frustrated him. And Stu would hope that he could still have you, when everything was said and done.
But right now? Right now, he just closed his eyes and kissed the top of your head. He felt you huff, content, and stared out the foggy car window at the faint lights of Woodsboro below.
It really was a nice view.
#🔪 creeps writes#slasher x reader#slasher x s/o#slasher fanfiction#scream 1996#stu matcher x you#stu macher#ghostface x reader#ghostface
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Kedreeva, have you ever burned out on fic writing - done it so much and for so long that you wake up one day, and just can't look at any fic writing at all?
I've been writing pretty much non-stop for the last 3 years, and I'm exhausted with it, to the point where thinking about it makes me physically sick. I need to take a break, but I'm scared that my writing won't ever come back, that I've 'broken' my hobby for good.
Do you or any of your followers have any advice? It's such a horrible feeling, to lose something that's been such a huge part of my life for so long. I don't know what to do with myself.
I don't really burn out on the act of writing as a whole. I can get sick of a story, or a fandom, but I have always felt a deep desire to write something. At most, I might take a few days, or up to a month (sometimes post-nano, I do get tired of the story I was writing), and just pick something else to do, some other hobby of mine. A video game or a virtual pet game or something. Clean stuff. lay in the grass if it's nice. The writing will be there when I come back.
But even so, what I can tell you is that you can't break your hobby of writing. You can leave it, you can put it down, you can decide never to do it again. You may get rusty on some of the skills, but it's a skill like any other skill, and it will come back to you when you pick up practicing again. You may need to exercise the muscle memory to get back into shape, but that's just how any skill works. Writing isn't some mystical talent you use or you lose. It's a thing you learned how to do and then practiced doing for a while. And you can do that again any time!
so... my advice would be this. Don't just Not Write. Not Writing is a symptom of writing. You don't stop writing by Not Writing. If you want to take a break, pick up something else to be doing. Get a video game you can get lost in for a while like animal crossing or stardew valley or whatever the kids are into these days. Pick up some books to read. Get into a new show or rewatch an old one you love. Pick some other skill or hobby you wanted to learn and do that badly for a bit. It doesn't really matter what, and you don't have to pick one thing and stick with it forever or anything. Just give yourself an actual break doing something else.
the writing will be there when you are ready to come back for it.
#writing#it's perfectly okay to take breaks!!!#in fact everyone should from time to time#a little vacation from your favorite things#absence makes the heart grow fonder#anon asks#asks
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Sometimes I think about like. When I first really got access to the internet, so much of what I liked growing up suddenly became dirty.
I was raised as a girl. And I liked plenty of girl targeted media. Kim Possible and My Little Pony were some of my favorites. I also watched some media targeted more at young boys. Primarily anime. Like Dragon Ball Z and Naruto. Because my dad liked those, so he didn't really have an issue with me liking them too because it was cool to him to share some interests. Which was nice.
And eventually we got a family computer and I was allowed to use it pretty regularly starting mainly in middle school. And I wanted to draw all my favorite cartoon characters.
It was really easy to find reference images of the Naruto characters and Dragon Ball Z characters I liked. Most of the image results were screenshots from the show or cool fanart of them using their powers to blow stuff up. And I figured finding images to reference for Kim Possible and My Little Pony wouldn't be any harder. I had started watching Friendship Is Magic recently. Pinkie Pie and Rarity were my favorites, and I wanted to draw them. And Kim. And Shego.
And it did not take a long scroll down the Google image search results to see more than just a little suggestive or outright explicit porn art of all of them. And my curious mind wanted to know why that was in the search results. It didn't seem to me like that should be so easily available. But it turned out a LOT of people. Mostly grown men. Decided the ponies and Kim and Shego were sexy and decided to draw and post on many many non-adult catered websites a lot of porn.
And suddenly my pony figures and Equestria girls dolls felt like sex objects in my bedroom. And my Kim Possible fanart sitting in my sketchbook felt dirty. And the shows weren't as fun to watch anymore. I didn't end up finishing all the seasons of Friendship is Magic.
I sort of just threw myself into the boy things I was allowed to like since then. People didn't really have any questions about that, especially since I socially transitioned to male in highschool. I bet plenty of them just assumed I liked boy stuff to go with my new boy gender lol.
I wish I had still enjoyed Kim Possible and My Little Pony when I was younger though. I missed those medias but felt like I couldn't even touch them anymore. Especially after I went through a sexual trauma in highschool that I honestly don't want to publicly recount. I want to rewatch both series for fun. But I still can't work up the nerve.
And I think a lot about like. How I was lucky to have boy interests to fall back on because I know and knew plenty of people raised as girls who weren't allowed to watch boy targeted media at all. Who probably went through something eerily similar and then had nothing at all that felt okay to watch.
And sometimes I wish this was more important to people when they discuss media consumption and fandom. Sometimes I wish people were more interested in adult centered fandom sites for their horny art so at least some kid on the internet knows it's going to be porn before they choose whether or not to click. Sometimes I wish some of the first things I heard about when engaging with fandom centered around kids media weren't the top ten most disgusting porn fics. And even though I don't post explicit NSFW on my art Tumblr, I try to make it clear I find Transformers characters attractive so that people understand that before deciding to follow me even there or view more of my art. Because I actually think open and up front disclosure of "I am an adult who finds cartoon characters attractive so keep that in mind before you choose to view my work" is important. And honestly the least I can do.
And I'm not like. Saying you have to stop drawing cartoon characters sexy or whatever. I know I'm not going to stop finding Transformers robots hot. And I'm not out to advocate for censorship. I just think like. People are too used to pointing and laughing at sites pushing "kid friendly" fixes to their apps that don't do anything but frustrate users and just mean porn goes untagged. And are too used to just. Seeing cartoon character porn unfiltered cross their dash. That even well intentioned people don't really stop to pause to be like. Hey maybe I don't want my horny drawing of a kids show character to be at the top of Google search results. And maybe I should filter the image appropriately with the sites' filters or choose a more adult site for it in general.
Because honestly kids should be allowed to enjoy media without adults' sex fantasies being constantly inescapable to them.
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This may be my personal reading but I think Claudia very deliberately riled up Lestat in that chess scene so she could expose everything to Louis and get him to leave with her. I never saw Claudia for one second believing anything Lestat promised, but she likely went along with letting Lestat back in cause she knew that Louis needed to be shown without a doubt that Lestat was full of shit before he would actually agree to leave. Cause in that first chess scene its not like Lestat is saying anything provocative or aggressive towards anyone, for all we know, he's playing his part really well yet she pokes at him with very sensitive jabs (Nicki) to get him to expose himself, which he does and that helps to push Louis closer to leaving. She knows at this point Lestat isn't thinking about her much more than as a means to keep Louis so she turns that against him as now she becomes the means to get Louis away from Lestat.
I always wondered why in those 6 years did she not leave NOLA? We see that Louis is physically perfectly fine by year 3. She must've known with the non-stop gifts from Lestat it was only a matter of time before Louis was worn down.
im gonna push back on this hard. i want you to know that i’m not like mad or angry or shutting you down. im just VERY passionate about children especially black children.
before i get into it we do not see a louis who is perfectly fine ever. there is not a single episode when louis is in anyway stable. this is a assertion that does not take into account the beast of PTSD. that shit showed up with flashbacks in Dubai. He was not okay. and Claudia knew that.
also before i get to whats really driving me to push back. we are disagreeing in Lestat playing his part well. Louis is in love and bonded (the real actual definition of trauma bonded, not like how its been wildly misinterpreted) to lestat. He is not going along with this because Lestat is playing his part well. He is manipulating Louis. He is trying to manipulate Claudia. Lestat is the one who broke their relationship it does not matter that he’s not being provocative or aggressive in this scene. the last ten or so minutes ep 5 is enough of a reason for her to NEVER trust him again. What does it say that ANYONE should expect her to over look that alone and play nice because in this moment he’s not doing anything that is a take i cannot and will not agree with.
but ep 5 is not a stand alone. he been provocative and aggressive from the beginning.
but im gonna have to push back on something that has been bothering me. Claudia is not without emotion. and she is not without feeling. in fact locked up at fourteen she is MADE UP of emotion and feeling. she is NOT just a plotting monster. i thought i challenged this take enough in my rewatch but imma have to get into it more. maybe she doesnt feel the ramifications of her actions. maybe she isnt burdened by guilt bc of her age. maybe shes more ruthless bc of her age. why should i not attribute emotion to that. this is where i think ppl like to refuse the full breath of children’s humanity. kids seek nurture and care. they’ll do anything for it. they don’t have an full understanding of everything. but they are not these unfeeling cold monsters that just go about being destructive and not caring. a friend of mine told me onetime he took i think it was a jelly fish or something from the sea and put it in the bathwater bc he wanted to keep it. he didnt understand that would kill it. when it died he was so fucking anguished he cried for the rest of the day especially when his parents told him it happened bc he put it in the bath. that it belongs in the sea.
he didnt do that bc children are cruel monsters. he did that because he didnt understand the variety of life and the particular needs of that animal. but he is full of emotion. it was love that made him pick up that animal. it was love that made him want to keep it. it was love that crushed him when he found out what he had done.
now. i see to much that y’all wanna only allow the monster piece in claudia and it drives me up the wall. and her childhood is often used agaisnt her. shes more of a monster bc she didnt get to live a full life she let go of her humanity bc she didnt have all the years of humanity loustat did. except she had 14 years of humanity. in 14 years she lived a life. and i refuse to take that away from her. she is angry!! she is angry and sad and lonely and frustrated and isolated and alienated and reaching for connection and she is time and again denied her personhood. That is the humanity in her. she also fed the fuck up!!! and how she chooses to go about getting her ass out of there does not take away her humanity.
she is also curious. she also is loving and wants love in return. she is also nurturing and wants to be nurtured back. she is also gentle and wants gentleness back. ALL of this drives her ruthlessness for fighting back. her ruthlessness for killing. her ruthlessness for surviving. and her ruthless for doing what needs to be done to get out.
she also dragged louis out to algiers bc she loves him. bc it hurts her to see him. why do you think they included that little walk where they were talking about Emily Dickinson? they were happy. they weren’t perfectly fine. but they were happy. they were relaxed. they were at peace. they were each others. they werent constantly under the threat of abuse and mistreatment and fear. Louis traded that for his relationship with Lestat. I can understand why he did that and also stand with her on her anger about that. that fucking HHURTS! it hurts children when the abuser comes back home. it hurts them. she was hurt. so no i dont agree that she just did that to plot against them. hating and loving are often times not mutually exclusive. sometimes you hate because you love. and eventually with enough signs it wont get better hate can eclipse love. but thats where it was born. at least thats what i see was elevated in their relationship with the amcverse.
#mw asks#claudia is a full person#a whole person#she’s not only just doing things to further the plot to me#shes a ruthless vampire bc times were ruthless and the trauma that turned her was ruthless and the hell she endured wasruthless and the#one conducting her hell was ruthless#iwtv#this was in my drafts i thought i posted it.
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Thoughts while rewatching season 3 of Riverdale:
1. K why did Alice’s farm style slay so hard? Like she looked so great
2. Love how Archie is literally in this prison FOR FUCKING MURDER and still nobody is scared of him - they saw this man in his nice little shoes his rich girlfriend gave him and were like “yeah this man is ducking useless”
3. VERONICA STOP BUYING YOUR BOYFRIEND NICE THINGS WHILE HE’S IN PRISON! He’s just gonna get this shit stolen your dad was in jail how do you not know how a prison works?
4. It’s so sad that the normies got hold of the “epic highs and lows of high school football” line because it really is such a perfect Archie line - this man is naive and kind hearted enough to believe a game of football is all that’s needed to fix the structurally broken prison system but if you haven’t watched the show and don’t know anything about Archie then it’s obviously gonna seem ridiculous
5. Riverdale relationship drama is so funny cause it’s like “Betty had a stress related seizure due her mother and sister joining a cult and didn’t tell Jughead” or “Veronica isn’t sure of the best way to help Archie through his time in prison”
6. Kevin asking Moose if he’s embarrassed by him of course he is Kevin have you met yourself? Your literally the worst
7. Organising a musical number and cheerleading routine for her boyfriend while he plays a game of football in prison is actually the most normal reaction Veronica Lodge has ever had to any situation ever
8. Realising I talk about Riverdale the same way all of the G&G players talk about G&G
9. Imagine being an adult in Riverdale and hearing that a new bar opened up under Pop’s and going for a night out to check it out but you get there and it’s just a load of teenagers doing musical numbers and drinking mocktails
10. Why is FP’s immediate reaction to any situation ever to just grab his son’s face and yell at him? Begging for this man to have a normal non-abusive reaction to something just one time
11. Will never stop thinking about the Midnight Club. It was the first episode of Riverdale I really watched and it’s still one of my favourites. Like the way all of the parents tried so hard and came so close to breaking their moulds and forging their own paths but they never did and just fell into exactly what the world and the people around them wanted to be AND how their kids are all in the same situation now? The narrative, the cycles, the generational trauma! This episode has everything
12. Knowing now that Sheriff Keller actually WAS into guys the whole time and it was just that he didn’t want to be with Moose’s dad makes the whole situation so much funnier
13. The idea that they were all booking out the bunker for certain nights a week is so funny - like did they have physical a schedule? Who kept the schedule? Did it just sit in like the offices of the Blue and Gold?
14. I fucking love Archie and Josie together and have fully convinced myself that Josie is somehow California Women
15. It needs to be studied what exactly the Heathers episode did to my brain because that one episode of TV completely rewired my brain chemistry and changed the trajectory of my life
16. It’s so sad that the happiest Polly ever got to be was when she was part of a cult. It’s also sad how much everyone’s farm fashion went off cause they all looked so good during that era
17. It’s actually a miracle it took so long for Fangs to actually die there were so many attempts on his life
18. God Veronica running multiple businesses at age 16 and none of the Riverdale adults batting an eye and just respecting her as a business women will never not be funny to me
19. The plot twist that Alice was actually working undercover to take down the farm actually makes her being so awful to Betty make less sense. Sure, she was doing it for the greater good I guess but like she didn’t have to give away her college money or sell their fucking house leaving Betty with the options of homelessness or moving to a cult to get it done
20. FP maybe if you need to get your teenage son to regularly come and help you with your job as sheriff then you shouldn’t be doing it? Although on the other hand Jughead would’ve gone to those crime scenes anyway so like maybe it’s a good thing FP was there as adult supervision
21. GOD the cult break out and scavenger quest are such amazing finales for this season. Everyone nearly dies about ten times, Kevin and Fangs no longer have kidneys, the core four staggering through the woods in formal wear close to death together, Cheryl and Toni coming to save them all with the power of gangs and bows and arrows, it had literally everything you could want!
22. Love how Hal Cooper is canonically one of the worst serial killers ever and every woman he’s been with tells him this to his face
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Rewatched my recording of Rowen's epilogue party today for fun and promptly got knocked out with emotion by her conversation with Gale again, so I figured I might as well inflict that on y'all :3
Their conversation opened with a hug, which is in this post, it's very cute, and then Gale talks about teaching for a bit, prompting this:
Which is wonderful and lovely! Rowen's looking at him so fondly, which makes sense given that their little magic lesson was the first time anyone had ever "properly" taught her magic! She was a scrappy little thieves guild kid who taught herself, after all. So of course she tells him he's an excellent teacher.
Of course she does, given the above. And then-
This look, coupled with that line and the fact that Rowen imagined going on a romantic walk with him during that moment? And that very soon after, he told her about Mystra and she promptly pulled away and that was that? Heartbreaking.
And he follows it up by complimenting her! He knows very well by now that Rowen in that moment had never been formally educated in magic like he was and he's telling her she was already incredible from her own efforts! This man is still so smitten. And then he redirects, back to his students before asking-
Gods, how conflicted I (and Rowen) felt about answering this. Everyone she's talked to so far, when they've asked (and the option was there), she's mentioned Astarion and how happy they are. But with Gale, after they've just danced around the "what could've been" aspect of their relationship, it would feel like rubbing salt in a wound to not only do that, but call Astarion the love of her life, wouldn't it?
So, wizard-exclusive option four it was.
Look at this man's face! Oh my god. Granted I didn't manage to get the best screenshot of it, I was fighting the video player's progress bar a bit, but I swear. He is so fucking fond. I'm unwell about it.
And then!!! He goes from So Damn Fond to "I can't stop talking about you" "I've told my students all about you. You should come teach with me." He has it so bad, my heart hurts.
This is very much Rowen's Worry Incarnate face but let me tell you. When I heard that Gale becomes a professor in his non-god ending, I immediately headcanoned that he brings Rowen in as a guest lecturer, not knowing that he actually makes that offer. Because he knows her history, he knows how much something like that would mean to her. That even though she's grown so much from her state of feeling constantly inferior to everyone when they met, that having her skill as a wizard legitimized in that way is a dream come true. So that's not a look of worry on her face, really. That's "I am holding back tears".
And then below that, there's the layer of "I've missed you, here's a way we can spend time together that I know you won't decline". Not in a manipulative way, obviously, he knows she's happy and he wouldn't begrudge her of that in a million years. Regardless of their relationship being platonic or romantic or anything in between, Rowen's his closest friend who he can truly talk about magic with and it's the same for Rowen! And in the end, even with the heartache that is there, that's what their foundation is and that's what matters.
#me? writing long meta about my OC and her ex-not-boyfriend? who could've guessed XD not like this is the 2nd time it's happened#i am so so curious if he only talks abt the weave scene like that if you had an active romance and broke up or if thats how he refers to it#in general. i guess i'll see when i finish the game as Ry XD#i really didn't mean for this to be so long but what can i say? wizards compel me this should come as a surprise to No One XD#baldurs gate 3#rowen hellane#gale dekarios#rowengale
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You mentioned that you liked all of us are dead so now I'm going to bother you with a non spn question this time: which part did you find the saddest? I don't know if I can pick just one 🥲
ahhhh thank you for asking!! it's been a while since i watched it so my memory is rusty, but i'll try to answer. i should probably forsake myself and rewatch it, actually
obviously, spoilers below the cut. it's a great show, btw, ppl should watch it! it's available on netflix
honestly the whole thing is depressing as hell. i don't really know if i can pick one... the nice teacher sacrificing herself for the students, gyeongsu's murder... nayeon going through that journey of self-reflection just to be murdered, the kids being abandoned by the helicopter squad, eunji failing to stop the picture from being uploaded ;_;, the infected woman who tied herself to the doors of a restaurant so she didn't eat her baby, the swat team agent who left his family to help people and got infected, evacuees being denied entry into safe territory, joonyoung's death, cheongsan's sacrifice at the end, namra having to eat dead people!! and probably lots that i'm forgetting. i didn't like jimin much but i was sad that she died so alone and that nobody really noticed... but my personal saddest moment wasn't actually directly in the show. it was the moment i realised that there was no cure. for some reason, i thought that the scientist guy who caused it all would find a cure or a solution. i thought that the infected would simply have to "get over their fear" and they'd become normal or something... so i guess my saddest moment was when the scientist died. because my hopes, which i realise now were kind of dumb, died with him. it was the moment i realised this was a true tragedy and there was no way out. that everyone whose deaths i didn't mourn bc i thought there would be a cure was actually gone permanently. fuck. it sucked. then they were all blown up on top of it! great show, though. i invite anyone who spoiled themself by reading this to join in on the suffering!
i would very much like to know which moment you found the saddest. please tell me any and all thoughts you have on the show, i would love to read them!!
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