#and it's that kind of movie where it's terrified to take itself too seriously so they have to load every scene with stupid jokes

[angeltannis]

mom and I watched Goosebumps (2015) and honestly it was pretty not-great overall but Ough the twist using The Ghost Next Door was so good. I wasn't even very involved with Goosebumps as a kid and I remember that episode of the show vividly because the shock and tragedy of it really stuck with me. Perfect choice for the One Good Monster imo. she and Jack Black were pretty much the saving grace of this movie

[daytaker]

The Demon Brothers React to Watching a Horror Movie with You

CW: discussion of gore (Satan)

I didn’t include the dateables in this one but if people want that, y’know…let me know.

Lucifer

"You frighten yourself... intentionally? Interesting."

He fails to see the appeal, quite frankly.

Not only does he not find them scary, he doesn't understand why you watch them if you do.

He's too used to playing the babysitter to take you grabbing his hand as an excuse for physical contact. He interprets it as you tapping out, so he'll pause the movie and give you an out.

Of course, if you insist on finishing the movie regardless, that's an interesting choice in and of itself.

What an opportunity to observe a tortured human psyche at work.

If you insist on holding hands at this point, he won't fight it. He is a bit more dubious than before, though. Are you really doing this because you're scared? You wouldn't happen to have any ulterior motives, would you?

He will gladly reassure you after the movie is over that you are always welcome to come to him for comfort if you're afraid in the middle of the night. You know where his room is.

Mammon

"Just so we’re clear, I ain’t afraid of no horror movies. Not even a little! Not even a teensy-tiny bit, all right? Like, seriously."

He's lying.

This isn't even headcanon stuff, this is just common knowledge.

Also common knowledge: he will insist on proving how cool and brave he is by watching a horror movie with you and protecting you from the monsters and gore onscrEEAAAUUUUGH???!!!

He wasn't scared, he was just startled.

And he's only up here on the lights fixture because he remembered one bulb was flickering earlier. There. He fixed it. He's just being responsible.

Anyway, if you're nervous and want to hold his hand, he understands. Humans are fragile as hell.

In fact, you don't need to stop at hand-holding. You can just hug hiMYEEAAGH!!!!

He's hugging you instead. He's being a good demon and taking care of his human.

Yes, he's in your lap. He thought you'd feel more secure that way.

Stop laughing!

Leviathan

"So I read that the film set for this movie was cursed by a mangaka who never got credit as an influence for the story..."

Time for some J-horror, obviously.

He read up extensively on the production before asking you to watch it with him. He figures he'll be less terrified if he has plenty of background knowledge about the film as an artistic piece to remind him that the happenings onscreen aren't real.

Instead he found a bunch of rumors about how the movie was cursed. But he'd already poured so much of his valuable time into researching it. Sunk cost fallacy: activated! You're watching this damn movie.

He's scared. He's so embarrassed to be this scared but he's scared.

When he's by himself, he doesn't mind that he spooks easily. He likes it. That's the fun of horror games and movies.

But with you here, he feels the pressure to be your emotional rock during the harrowing film-viewing process.

You can hold his hand. You know, if you want to. He gets it if that idea grosses you out, but he did wash his hands right before you got here, so...

If he gets too scared, the demon form comes out, and suddenly you have a scaly tail wrapped around your waist and webbed fingers clutching you.

He's sorry, it's just... It just happens sometimes, okay? Laugh it up, normie!

Actually, it feels kind of nice when you stroke his scales like that. If you really want to, you don't have to stop.

He is no longer watching the movie.

Satan

"This is an extremely unrealistic depiction of decapitation with a hacksaw."

There is nothing less scary than watching a horror movie with Satan, because his smart ass can't stop telling you about everything wrong with it.

The movie is starting. Are you nervous? He'll hold your hand. He has enough basic sense to at least get that part of the process right.

...That's not even close to how it looks when you disembowel a deer.

There's a lot more blood spatter than you'd expect when head wounds are involved. Apparently the special effects crew on this movie didn't do their due diligence.

Hmm, that's actually a pretty convincing amputation scene. Credit where credit is due.

Sorry, but he thinks that calling this one a "psychological thriller" is giving it a little too much credit.

Asmodeus

"Nooo! Ahhh, I can't take it, it's so scaryyy!"

He's not scared. Not even a little.

He's not even grossed out.

But he thinks that seeming terrified is cuter than seeming mildly amused and a little bored.

So before you start watching, he makes sure to lay down some ground rules.

If he's scared, he gets to hold your hand. If you're scared, you get to hold his hand.

If he's scared, he gets to hug you. If you're scared, you get to hug him.

If nothing scary is happening for more than five minutes, he's allowed to request a kiss. Just to keep you both from getting bored.

Why are sex scenes in slashers so awful? Even before the stabbing starts. They're just so... blah. It's disappointing every time.

Ahhh! There's the killer! He's so scared! He's going to hide his face in your neck and cling to you for dear life!

Beelzebub

"What's wrong? Why do you look so sick?"

Bro will eat nonchalantly through the most brutal and gut-wrenching scenes of gore, entirely unaffected.

And he will.

He will do that, right in front of you, and not even have the decency to understand why you have to go vomit.

He doesn't really get most horror films. But occasionally something will resonate strongly with him and he will become very quiet and potentially fairly upset for awhile.

If something reminds him too much of Lilith or her death, for example.

But even if that happens, he won't stop eating.

Belphegor

"Wake me up if something interesting starts happening."

Another one who is entirely unaffected by horror.

Nothing is more horrifying than living as himself in this fucked up world.

He's very annoyed whenever Mammon or Levi watches anything horror-related because their screaming makes it hard to sleep.

He doesn't mind if you scream though.

He can fall asleep to the sound of you screaming.

Take that however you wish.

[sapphire-weapon]

We know canonically that Leon likes older movies and he's definitely the type to enjoy lying in bed/lounging on the sofa to watch movies in his spare time, extrovert or not (*actually... I suddenly have a headcanon).

But what do YOU think he likes to watch? I feel like he avoids horror, binges vintage dramas and has a secret guilty pleasure for rom-coms. The shitty ones, especially. He's a lonely guy, he gets a kick from 2000's Loser Guy Gets The Hot Girl Because She's Different And He's Funny And We Don't Understand Women genre of film.

*The headcanon, because he's for sure to have pretty steep trust issues, is that a sure fire way that Leon shows "I feel close to you and want to share myself" is to spend his time off watching TV with someone. Sharing his favourite films, enjoying/roasting new ones. Sharing a drink and some popcorn. This is all stupid, cringey fluff. But... it's not too farfetched, I don't think. Watching a film on Leons couch is a special privilege reserved for close friends/legitimate romantic partners.

Wait wait wait wait wait wait wait WAIT

WAIT

What do you mean, "he canonically likes older movies"?!?!? Why, because he quotes Pulp Fiction in RE4make?????

Pulp Fiction came out in 1994, what do you mean "old movies"?????

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Leon was about to graduate high school in 1994. It's 10 years prior to the events of RE4.

/kicks things around petulantly

I'm bouta go full Mr Krabs in the panty raid episode all up in here.

But I've mentioned before that I headcanon him as a huge film buff who worked on student films in college and really enjoyed video editing. He probably would've pursued it professionally if he hadn't had a greater interest in law enforcement.

And as a result of that, he's probably that guy who can give you a list of recommendations for damn near any genre. Even romances. Especially romances, in some cases.

I really do see him as a huge movie nerd, and I like to think he's one of those bougie bachelor guys who has an entire room of his house dedicated to this. Just floor to ceiling shelves with shit across a bunch of different formats. He's not a merch guy. He's an actual movie collector.

It's an easy hobby for him to keep up with despite the chaos that is his life. Movies are quick to consume and easy to collect but can also give him bragging rights if he stumbles on something super rare, since he has more than enough money to blow on shit.

Like. I make the joke that Leon watches Casino at least three times a week, but the reality is that I think he's the kind of guy to be happy to have most anything on in the background while he's doing other shit. Like, there was that stretch of 3 years where, no matter what time of day you looked, My Cousin Vinny was on TV on some channel -- Leon's the guy who doesn't mind it always being on repeat, because a good movie is a good movie.

I also don't think most horror bothers him. It might not be the first thing he reaches for, because the horror genre in general is usually one of two things. It's either "an artist using horror as a backdrop to explore some facet of the human existence" or "I'm about to make the most ridiculous shit possible and it's going to be funny."

There are, of course, bad horror movies that take themselves way too seriously and aren't so bad they're good, they're just so bad that they're bad. But those are indictments of those specific titles, not the genre itself.

Like, you cannot look me in the face and tell me that Leon hasn't seen most things from Friday the 13th to Ju-On to Sharknado. I refuse to believe that.

But I agree with you that actually getting let into Leon's Vault is probably a huge deal, and for him to seriously sit down and watch a movie with someone is very intimate for him -- because it is one of the few things that he's been able to carry into his adult life that's really his and has always been his. It's the only part of himself he's been able to hold onto, so he's probably terrified of exposing it to/sharing it with anyone else.

[apocalypticgargoyle]

Oh my god i just found you're writing and I'm obssessed. First of all, I'm in love with your edgy!karl series. Seriously, it's amazing. Second of all, I had a little idea that you can take as a request if you'd like. I was thinking edgy!dream/clay but with a shy innocent girl. And a hint of some fear play kink? Like she's all cute and he's so edgy shes scared and intimidated by him when they meet and it turns him on knowing shes both scared of him AND attracted to him at the same time so he uses it against her(consensually of course)

can we call him alt!dream? ;) also,,, i rly like this request...

𝐉𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐘𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐒. ♘ 𝐚𝐥𝐭!𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 (𝟏𝟖+)

pairing: alt!Dreamwastaken x fm!reader

warnings: smut (18+), fighting, smoking, language, oral (fm. receiving), fear play, asphyxiation, sight size kink & praise, dominance

The movie theatre dimmed, the beginning credits of the film reeling as a montage of a city played in the background. You settled back in your seat, accepting the fact that you had been stood up, determined not to let it ruin the movie you had already paid for. That’s right; instead of treating yourself to a new pair of shoes or a set of notebooks, you agreed to meet up with a sleazy guy from class after weeks of him pleading.

You sighed slightly, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you realized you hadn’t even wanted to see the film and had only agreed because he suggested it. Someone moved into a seat near you, his legs stretching as he slumped down, purely due to his towering height. You stiffened, crossing your legs to inch away from him at the sight of his various tattoos peeking out from beneath his dark corduroy jacket.

He carded a hand through his dirty blond hair, revealing an eyebrow ring as he swept his bangs off his forehead momentarily. You tore your eyes from him as you noticed the cigarette balanced behind his ear. Even with the seat between the two, you could smell the smoke on his clothes mixing with the faintest hint of vanilla.

You folded your hands in your lap as you noticed him give you a once over. He reached towards you, making you flinch slightly before you realized he was holding out his bag of candy to you. “Want a jellybean? You look upset,” he motioned, voice low as he whispered.

You shook your head quickly, muttering a thank you and playing with your fingers. He shrugged, watching you for a second more before turning back to the movie. He tucked his arm behind his head, chewing on his lip as if debating whether he should keep talking to you or just let you be. You weren’t really sure which outcome you preferred.

On one hand, he fit every one of your guilty pleasure fantasies, while on the other, he terrified the hell out of you. It was more of an intimidating feeling, residing in the way each of his movements caught your attention and the way you could barely keep your eyes off his grungy appearance. Your mind drifted from the plot of the movie and towards the images of his tattooed hands wrapping around your throat and giving you a reason to be scared.

“You here alone?” He asked, popping another jellybean in his mouth. The action made you think of your grandpa waning himself off of tobacco when you were younger. Those jellybeans were blue and a flavor of comfort for you now, while the man before you seemed to only fish for the red ones.

You nodded hesitantly. “I got stood up,” you mumbled, making him shake his softly. “What about you? Are you here alone?” You wondered where you had gathered the courage to talk to him, his demeanor making you want to run, but his voice was a symphony to your ears in the darkness of the movie house, drawing you closer with each of his lulling words.

He wet his lips. “So far,” he answered. He stuck out his large hand for you to shake, his skin was coarse against yours as his finger reached to brush against your wrist. “I’m Clay,” he added, his name rolling into your mind and nestling itself into your memory just due to the tone of his voice. After you gave him your name his mouth curled into a soft smirk. “It’s nice to meet you,” he remarked. You blushed for an unknown reason, thankful for the darkness to mask your emotions.

Someone entered the theatre, marching up to Clay and leaning down to his ear. “Dream, we have to go now,” the guy whispered into his ear, just loud enough that you could hear him. Clay's face twisted into an annoyed expression while the guy turned to leave.

Clay straightened his jacket on his shoulders. “Not to seem to forward, but can I get your number?” He queried. You raised your eyebrows at him, basking in the fact that despite his friend’s agitation, Clay was taking his sweet time making his move on you.

As if you were acting on instinct, you grabbed a pen from your bag as he held his hand out to you again. You found a bare spot on his skin and wrote your number as clearly as you could manage with your shaking hands at the way his eyes watched you alluringly. Without thinking, you blew on the ink, trying to keep it from smearing. You froze, realizing what you were doing as he bit back a smirk.

He was completely eating up your awkwardness.

He reluctantly took his hand back, being pulled up by his friend. “I’ll call you,” he whispered on his way out, heat rushing to your ears.

The movie ended shortly after he left, sending you back out onto the city streets and away from your cocoon where you had forgotten about the sleazy classmate and let thoughts of Clay weasel their way into your nerves. As you stepped through the doors, your phone began to ring, kick-starting your heart at the thought of it being Clay. Instead, it was a friend of yours asking how your date had gone. You tucked the phone between your ear and shoulder as you pulled a piece of gum out of your purse.

Her ramblings went deaf on your ears as a car violently pulled up to an alleyway a block from you. You squinted as you moved closer, your apartment being in that direction anyway. A few men got from the car and that’s when Clay stepped into view from behind one of the buildings, flicking his cigarette to the ground and snubbing it out with the toe of his heavy boots as he watched them get out. You could see your number still written on his hand, mixing with his tattoos.

He shoved his hands in his pockets, looking tiredly at the group of men that had come from the car as his friends began to shout at them. Clay chewed on his lip, looking around and away from the conversation before his gaze met yours. His eyes widened slightly before he turned back, an attempt to keep the attention away from you.

One of the car members grabbed for Clay’s jacket, yanking him closer as if to get him to pay mind to the man talking. Clay sent him a cocky grin, towering over him. With his normal height and his boots, he had at least a foot on the guy. One of Clay’s friends separated the two, breaking the groups into a brawl while shouting was accompanied with fists and elbow jabs.

You turned, walking in another direction as briskly as you could without bringing attention to yourself and the group of boys in the alleyway. Little did you know, Clay was watching you leave and kicking himself for it.

The next day, your mind was racing with Clay’s whereabouts. He seemed like he had his opponents under control, but what if one of them had brought a knife or another weapon? It wasn’t unusual for boys in the city to butt heads like they were, but the fact that you’d let one nearly pick you up the night before was boggling.

You gripped the strap of your bag as you crossed the street, stepping onto the sidewalk and adjusting your skirt. You kept your head down as you passed various people coming and going from their apartments before your ears picked up on a familiar voice. You picked your eyes up, spotting Clay and a small group of guys walking together. He popped a jellybean in his mouth after chiming into their conversation.

You held your breath as they neared you and that’s when you noticed his bruised face and scraped knuckles. Your number was faded on his skin, but still apparent on the back of his hand. He smiled at you, breaking off from his group and walking backward to match your pace. You bit back a smile. “Glad to see you’re okay,” you mumbled, barely able to make eye contact with him. His friends called out for him and he waved them off, walking in line with you.

He chuckled lightly. “Yeah, sorry. I would have called last night but…” he made a gesture to his torso as he trailed off. “I broke a rib. I didn’t really… I don’t.” He laughed sheepishly as you raised your eyebrows. “I’m fine. It’s good,” he brushed.

You picked your gaze off the pavement finally, focusing on his discolored black eye and busted lip. He didn’t seem to be too hurt, but he wore his wounds well. “You’re not scared of me, are you?” He asked, voice changing slightly. You drew in a sharp breath, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before it could get further knotted in the wind. A few people narrowed their eyes at the two of you and you wondered how you looked together. What kind of juxtaposition it was; his tall, dark figure looking like death in Doc Martens while you barely passed his shoulder in height with your less intimidating color scheme.

You debated how to answer him. Your eyes flickered to his dangly earring; a silver ankh. He ate another jellybean. “I was at first. I’m still kind of weary of you, I guess,” you muttered, making a smile bite into his features.

Clay ran his fingers through his hair, which you were beginning to believe was a habit when he was coming up with what to say. “Do you want me to leave you alone?”

You shook your head. A blush crept to your cheeks. “No, I kind of like it,” you mumbled, barely audible enough for him to hear. His hand slipped into yours and you could feel your chest tighten.

“You like being scared of me?” His voice was dripping with allure, making you bite your tongue in a flushed embarrassment. “You just keep getting better and better,” he teased, making your ears burn.

You weren’t sure how you ended up there, but God, were you thankful for Clay’s hands as they kneaded your ass, his lips pressing against yours. He ground his hips against yours, moaning into your mouth as your nails sank into his tattooed skin. His tongue pressed past your lips, his large hand moving to fist in the sheets beside you before dragging up your shirt to grip your breast.

You breathlessly moaned as he broke your kiss, lips trailing down your body as he sat back on his knees, dragging your underwear off as your shirt was also discarded to the floor. He looped his arms around your thighs, bringing you closer to his mouth as his concentrated stare shifted to your eyes before he buried himself between your legs, your body tensing as a groan ripped through your body. Your fingers carded through his soft blond hair, tugging slightly in appraisal as he pulled away from you.

Clay looked up at you again, slowly pressing one of his long fingers into you, you moaned his name, reaching one of your hands up to grip at the headboard above you. “Does that feel good, sweetheart?” He asked, voice deep with lust as his breath fanned against your wet core. He pushed another finger into you as you nodded. He pressed his lips to your thigh. “I can’t believe you’re scared of me,” he mocked, making you whimper as his fingers pulsed against your sweet spot.

He pressed his lips to your core again, tongue teasing at your nerves as you caught your lips between your teeth. You moved your knee further up his arm for a better angle, driving him deeper. He pulled away, his fingers speeding up. “So needy,” he chuckled, the sound enough to send you over the edge if you really thought about it.

“Clay, please. I want you,” you whined softly, your thighs threatening to close around his head. His eyes sparkled devilishly, leaning away from you before tugging your legs towards him. He pushed his fingers into your mouth, jaw tensing as you moaned around him.

He grabbed your hips, flipping your body and pushing your shoulders into the mattress. You heard him unbuckling his belt and your fingers knitted into the sheets beneath you. He pulled you back by the shoulders, hand moving to hold onto your neck. “Maybe I should give you something to be scared of,” he chided, making a shiver run up your spine as he pushed your thighs apart driving himself up into you. You were sure you would tear in half at the sheer size of him, but you bit back your whimpers at the pleasuring pain.

One of your hands moved to grip onto his arm as he thrust into you, his teeth threatening to dig into your shoulder as you moaned. His other hand moved to tease at your nerves, his determination to summon your orgasm sending your head reeling. You tilted back your head, resting against his shoulder as his hand tightened around your throat.

He let go of you, dipping you against the mattress again as his fist knotted in your hair. He steadied himself, leaning on one of his arms beside your head. Your hand wrapped around his wrist as he thrusted into you at an ungodly pace, lips hovering beside your ear as he grunted your name and how good you felt.

You pushed your hips up against him turning your head enough that he pressed his lips against yours, the vibrations from his moans sending heat throughout your body. Clay’s tongue slipped into your mouth roughly, tasting your whimpers and lust. His teeth dragged against your lip as you felt him throb inside of you.

He pushed your shoulder back, moving you on your side as your leg curled around. At the new angle, he could drive himself deeper into you; dark green eyes focused on yours as his warmed breath cascaded over your chest. His hand moved to your jaw, running his thumb against your burning lips as his sights were almost hungrily looking upon you. Your breathing became shallow as he smirked at you, moving his hand to your throat again.

He leaned down, slowing his pace to drag in and out of you as his lips were close to your ear. He applied pressure, your breath hitching in your throat. “So pretty. Good girl, taking me so well,” he praised, making you moan as he kissed you again before speeding up his thrusts. You moaned out his name again, finishing as your eyes fluttered shut. He chuckled darkly, pounding into you harder. “Fuck,” he hissed, lips pressing to the skin behind your ears, digging his face into your hair as he chased his high.

He exhaled, breath blanketing your skin before he kissed your shoulder, cheek, and finally your lips in a quiet appraisal. You pulled him into the spot beside you. He ran his fingers through his hair as you curled against his side, his other hand brushing softly against your arm. You knotted your fingers with his, brushing your thumb against where your faded number rested. “Didn’t you just break a rib?” You asked, finally noticing the slide bruising on his side.

Clay chuckled softly. “Yeah, I think I was running on adrenaline until a second ago,” he groaned.

Dream Tag List: (to join, follow this link :))

@karlkitten @pluto-dizzz @more-like-reyna @honk-izzie-was-taken @marrymetheonott @froggyy06 @ghoulandghost @savingpluto @marshmallow-babe @drunkpumpkincake

[abiggaynerd]

What made me ship maxwil. Sorry this is really just a jumbled mess JKNKJN but hope u enjoy reading it anyway. Under a cut because its too fucking long

Wilson and Maxwell are don’t starve’s main characters. They show up in the original game’s intro movie together. 

Maxwell speaks to Wilson on the radio, offers him a deal, and Wilson takes it. 

Now, think about that- Wilson, with no hesitation, takes a stranger’s dubious offer from a radio that is NOT supposed to be two-ways. He ruins his life without even thinking about it. 

This shows us how DESPERATE Wilson is for human contact. 

Wilson lives alone in a house, far away from his family who hates him, and not a single friend. Some might say Wilson doesn’t like people. But what i see is a person who ADORES people, being forced to be apart from them (exactly like maxwell) because no one will take him seriously. Wilson is working this hard because he is convinced if he just makes one good invention, has one big break, then people will finally respect and like him. It’s not just that he wants knowledge for knowledge’s sake.

He has someone offering him exactly what he wants, and it’s not just the offer, it’s the fact someone is talking to him. Wilson wants someone to listen to him, and believe in him, and that is JUST as important as the knowledge, if not more so. Maxwell has complete faith in Wilson’s ability to make this portal. Wilson trusts maxwell more than anyone else, simply because he’s gotten the smallest bit of positive attention. 

That makes his betrayal absolutely crushing for Wilson. Wilson is the only person who explicitly says he hates maxwell in the first game. He feels betrayed much more personally than maxwell intended, he’s furious, and he finds out maxwell didn’t actually believe in him the way he thought. Wilson is forced once again to completely rely on himself. Wilson likes himself and believes in himself a lot, but he sort of has to. No one else will. And that’s a hard thing to deal with.

Wilson goes through the worlds, because he wants out, obviously. He is the only one to canonly reach the end of adventure mode. Wickerbottom may think he’s an idiot, but he’s the one who made it to the end of the line, not her. 

Wilson is likely expecting a boss fight here, or something, but what he gets is a sad, frail old man who is suicidal and has nothing. Maxwell has completely given up. When you free max, it says “take pity?” Wilson does. Wilson KNOWS this will end badly for him. Wilson KNOWS he’s not going to get anything in return. But Wilson frees him, because Wilson is unequivocally GOOD. Wilson cares about people, deeply, and would do anything for them. Wilson does not like to see people suffer, and Wilson will take on the pain for himself if he can. Maxwell has hurt him more than anyone, but Wilson still takes his place. 

Now if we look at this from Maxwell’s perspective: Wilson is just another person to trick into coming here. Maxwell is putting on a show, using all his charisma, doing what They brought him here for. It’s the same as everyone else. 

Something interesting about adventure mode is that maxwell does NOT want you to continue. He does his absolute best to keep you from getting to the end. Scaring you, killing you, bribing you. You think it’s cruelty or fear of you at first glance, but really: maxwell does NOT want you to suffer the way he does. 

Maxwell brings you here, puts you in a terrible world, but in his mind, NOTHING is worse than the throne. Look at him on the throne and look at him as a survivor- on the throne he has nothing but despair and the desire to die. As a survivor, he’s extremely peppy in comparison. The throne has ruined maxwell, and even though he’s past the point of caring if you come to the constant, he does NOT want to be the reason someone else is on the throne. 

But is the door itself a cry for help? Was that a subconscious thing maxwell did? Charlie doesn’t have an adventure mode. She seems quite happy on the throne. Or is it because the Them are tired of maxwell? Compare Charlie’s world to Maxwell’s: considerably harder. Charlie’s world may allow you to revive yourself, but Maxwell’s is objectively easier. Less bosses, less danger, more resources. Maxwell also tries to give you a world you can have everything you need in in adventure mode, which is THE BEST he can do for you- something probably only allowed because the Them know the survivors won’t take his offer. 

When you get to the throne, despite being in absolute mental agony, maxwell cannot make himself trick you into freeing him. Which he COULD. He could pretend the key will let you out, he could pretend it’s something he REALLLY doesn’t want you to do because oooooo its gonna free youuuu and send you to earthhhh. But he cannot allow himself to do that, because this is the last bit of kindness and humanity he has- giving you the knowledge that the throne is the worst fate possible here. He clearly doesn’t think you are going to do it until you do- he’s shocked and thrilled when he stands up. 

Wilson frees him, knowing everything, after everything, and that SHOCKS him. Maxwell considers Wilson his savior. He owes everything to him. 

They don’t see each other again until cyclum. Wilson attacks maxwell, and while some people may think it’s because he’s angry, i think it’s because he SAW maxwell die and assume it’s either an insanity hallucination come to kill him or a new monster come to trick him. When max doesn’t attack when Wilson stops, he stops. 

Now, there are a lot of things Wilson could do. He could leave, he could kill him, he could ignore him. But Wilson feeds him. Maxwell is TOTALLY FINE. Max can get food himself. And food is a valuable resource. Wilson chooses to feed maxwell, because Wilson is good. They camp together, another thing Wilson doesn’t have to do. Wilson then decides to WORK WITH MAXWELL ON A PORTAL. AGAIN. Wilson makes the ACTIVE CHOICE to trust maxwell, with NO REASON TO. 

Now, we don’t know exactly what happens when the other survivors get there, but it stands to reason Wilson protects and defends max against the other survivors. Even though the portal failed AGAIN, and its possible max was fucking with him AGAIN. Wilson CHOSES to trust Max, even with evidence that could imply otherwise. 

If we look at the quotes, Wilson banters with max a lot, and can be annoyed with him. But when max is dead, Wilson explicitly reassures him he’s already working on reviving him. 

Maxwell, like Wilson, thrives on attention. He needs it, even if its negative. It’s easier for him to be someone to hate than just a sad man to pity. His persona- where he misses the throne and being king, is a lazy asshole, and hates everyone- is just that, a persona. Max is an actor, after all. He and wigfrid have this in common: he cannot handle being HIMSELF because being himself is terrifying. He doesn’t have anything as himself. He’s nothing as himself. I don’t think mentally he would be able to handle it! And Wilson knows this.

Maxwell also, when Wilson dies, asks if he really wants to come back. I think this is the only way he can think of to try to make up for bringing him here. It’s not much, but Wilson wouldn’t feel pain any more. Of course Wilson wouldn’t accept that, but maxwell offers because it’s the only thing he can think of.

Wilson is someone maxwell is nervous and shy around, when greeting. He’s the only one max shows explicit affection for. Like i said before, max sees Wilson as an angel, as his savior, but maxwell cannot handle it. It’s easier for him to be a huge asshole. But Wilson does not let him drive him away. 

I think the banter is something Wilson enjoys! Wilson is a sarcastic person, and he and max are intellectually equals. I think max is someone he really enjoys spending time with, as well as someone he would do anything for.

Now if we look at one of the more recent videos, with charlie, Winona, Wilson, and Max, maxwell sees charlie for the first time in a long, long time. He is frozen, but when Wilson calls him, he immediately follows him out. This shows me he puts Wilson on the same level as CHARLIE now, if not HIGHER. 

But something else that isn’t technically canon that made me ship it is this: when i played adventure mode for the first time, i got all the way to the end cutscene and died during it. I didn’t unlock max so i had to do it again. 

I restarted, and it made me think of Wilson KNOWING adventure mode was not a way out. KNOWING the end was not going to go well for him. But going through all five worlds, AGAIN, JUST to free maxwell. And that really got me to love the ship jknkjn

In conclusion maxwell and Wilson have an absolutely beautiful relationship, and it’s good. 

[my-writings-and-musings]

MTMTE Headcannon Prompt

Enemy forces hack the Lost Light and deactivate the atmospheric controls, leading to a slow loss of oxygen in the hopes the damage to the ship's "pet" will give them an edge. While the rest of the crew struggles to fight off their attackers and restore these critical systems, the bot(s) you've come to love stays by your side as a guard while begging you to remain conscious, growing ever more panicked as you begin to fade... Until you're saved just in time, and then they're left grappling with the fact they nearly lost you.

(A lot more dramatic than my first prompt certainly, and way more involved so I can only do two bots per post... But I'll get to them all!)

Part One: You're Here!

Part Two: Here!

Part Three: Here!

Part Four: Here!

Part Five: Here!

Part Six: Here!

Part Seven: Here!

Part Eight: Here!

Part Nine: Here!

Part Ten: Here!

Part Eleven: Here!

Part Twelve: Here!

Rodimus

·You're chilling on the mess of blankets he uses as extra insulation in the berth, debating which movie you'll watch with him when he returns, when the ship gives a rumble. At the lack of emergency signals that follow, you assume something has just bumped against the shields, which happens so frequently you only shrug.

·Elsewhere on the bridge, Rodimus receives a taunting message from the enemy ambush, bragging about how impossibly easy it was to crash key programs on the Lost Light, like the air filtration system... which will make things awfully difficult for his pet as oxygen has started to leak. He goes from aggressive bantering to obvious horror, putting the pieces together just as a loud series of distant rumblings marks the deactivation of the filters providing the oxygen you need to survive.

·For once his commanding officers all know what to expect in unison, allowing them to take over the bridge when he abandons it in a desperate rush to your location, his pounding pedes leaving tire marks in his wake as he stumbles into a frantic transformation to cross the distance as fast possible.

·Unable to reach you on any channel, he loses all focus of his surroundings before skidding to a tumbling halt before your shared quarters, calling out your name and activating his scanner as he registers dangerously low and still dropping oxygen levels across the ship.

·You're unaware of anything amiss as you continue to relax, but that's mostly due to a growing fog of confusion settling over your thoughts and senses. It's so dense that it has already made you incapable of noticing that the air is unusually stale, and your befuddlement only grows when he barges in like the place is burning down, moreso than usual.

·Scooping you into his arms, his relief at seeing you alive and conscious turns to terror when he realizes you've already begun to suffer the effects, as your bleary smile and dizzy demeanor make clear. He doesn't need to be a human doctor to know you're already in a bad way.

·Just as he is halfway through an explanation you barely understand, he receives a communication through restored channels from the other commanding officers warning that the ship has been boarded by enemy forces, at which point he resolutely declares that nothing will reach you so long as his spark has so much as a flicker left. In your inability to grasp the danger his steadfast vigilance is heartwarming.

·A defensive unit is posted outside for your safety, but as the battle rages through the ship and oxygen levels continue to fall, he stops focusing on the invasion. Instead he cradles you and encourages you to be still and quiet while he tries to keep up a one sided conversation to keep you distracted, knowing that what oxygen remains must be rationed.

·For the first time in his life he can't fake a smile no matter how badly he tries, the sight of your increasingly strained breaths and fading eyes drawing tears to his optics and eventually forcing him to his knees as his meandering words turn to soft pleading, his voice cracking as he alternates between begging you to stay with him and apologizing for being unable to save you.

·As you hover over a warm blackness you're far too disoriented to be as afraid as you should be, and instead you offer comfort at the sight of the bot you've come to adore so readily, murmuring your love even as he gently shushes you and tears begin to fall down his face without reservation.

·Though the battle turns in favor of the crew and the room you're in is spared attack, the atmospheric systems remain inoperable for what he knows is too long, and the ticking seconds match the fluttering of your eyes as they try not to shut.

·You know he wants you awake, but you're so incredibly tired and he's so impossibly comfortable, why can't he just let you have a nap? It's not like you won't be able to see each other after, so why does he look so sad? You wish you could tell him not to be sad.

·When you inevitably slip into unconsciousness he's beside himself, panicking but doing everything he can to gently wake you up, tenderly rubbing his thumb over your cheek to encourage you to stir. The crushing grief just beginning to take hold is so great he actually doesn't notice he has a message until it forces itself through.

·He's barely able to recollect the conversation he has with Ratchet, save the order to get you to the medical bay, where they've restored just enough functionality to produce oxygen on a one human scale. The bots who saw him running afterwards said there was little more visible than a fiery blur with you in his arms.

·Cybertronian engineering combined with carefully studied earth medicine provides you with the air you need just in time, dredging you up slowly from deep unconsciousness to the sterile taste of a ventilation mask over your face. Your discomfort mattered precious little when you behold Rodimus at your side, servo cupping your body as his face still shines with tears.

·It takes moments for him to break when you're left alone together, his shoulders shaking as the helplessness continues to haunt him, and his apologies blend together in an endless tangle of self depreciation.

·As you've come to do when he's overwhelmed, you encourage him to come closer, hugging his helm to your smaller body as if he's laying it in your lap. The oxygen mask limits you, but you don't let it stop your quiet shushes as you stroke his crests. ·Without delay you slow his tears, reassuring him that everything is well until exhaustion claims him and he falls asleep at your bedside.

·The experience doesn't leave him for some time. Both in public and in private you catch him paying close attention to you, and you know he's double checking your breathing, still worrying that such a simple thing could steal you away so quickly.

· Finally, you take him aside and pull his hand to your chest, indicating the rythym of your body and how you know it better than anyone. If he can't trust the world, then he should at least trust you, and with that newfound perspective he starts to heal as well. Because he trusts you more than anything.

Magnus/Minimus

·You're in the berthroom the two of you share, distracted by preparations for what you hope will be a simple but relaxing night in. In the well protected room it's impossible to hear much going on outside, especially with you focused so intently on making everything just the way he likes it.

·He's in his office and armor completely focused on some important paperwork when he receives an urgent warning; they're being boarded, and the attackers have already managed to offline several key atmospheric regulators and security systems. The thought initially only spurs him to begin defensive measures, but the moment he sees that oxygen levels are starting to drop, protocol ceases to exist.

·In battle he's always been a foe to be reckoned with, but now he's like a force of nature barreling through the ship, and the single unit of enemies that tries to confront him becomes little more than scattered body parts before they can let off a single shot. His fury is so overwhelming even his allies flinch when he tears past them to reach your shared quarters. He can't contact you by communicator, and he's uncertain if it's due to downed channels, or something he can't bring himself to consider.

·The door stands little hope when he tears it open in rage that's quickly evolving into panic, shouting your name as a flood of terrifying possibilities torture him with all the ways you could already be suffering. He has no idea how much or how little oxygen you need, and for all he knows the deprivation is already killing you, making you suffer...

·It takes all of his incredible self control not to embrace you when you stumble into view, dizzy and weak as well as quite confused, and he realizes things are far from okay when you lean on his offered hand to prevent yourself from falling. You actually laugh thanks to the delirium, finding it adorable to see the big tough bot diving to catch you.

·He can't bring himself to be mad at you not taking this seriously, but he's certainly frustrated at himself for being absolutely helpless to assist you, even if there's nothing he can do in the midst of the chaos with no communication options in working order.

·Ever the tactician, he barricades the two of you as effectively as he can, knowing that you're vulnerable enough now that moving you through combat could be fatal. The entire time he's multitasking on a million fronts; trying to keep you still on the berth to conserve energy, working to reestablish communication with anyone, and internally punishing himself for not having prepared some kind of protocol for this situation.

·Due to his personality you're quite accustomed to seeing him worry, but you're hardly comfortable with it, and on reflex you keep trying to comfort and reassure him despite your weakening state. His insistence you stay resting makes as little sense as his explanations, all you know is he needs help.

·Every minute drags by like an eternity, yet his skill at spotting details makes it impossible for him to miss the toll each one takes in real time. Your breaths are growing more strained, your body is settling down onto the berth with less resistance, and your eyes are meeting his with increasing dullness.

·When you can't even sit up a part of him simply... snaps. All but throwing off his armor, he brings you into his arms in his base form, not admitting but knowing that if he can't save you, he wants this to be the last way you see him.

·In a pleasant haze of fading consciousness, you initially smile at the sight, having always preferred to see him as his true self as often as possible. You'd playfully pointed out how he still towered over you in this form so many times...

·With no traces of battle growing close, or of help arriving before it's too late, he can't help but lose sight of the world around him in its entirety. What does the universe matter if you won't be in it? What good are his abilities if he can't save you from something so apparently benign?

·Never before has he cried in the presence of anyone, so to see tears in those beautiful red optics gives you considerable pause, even as your vision grows dark around you. Something must have been terribly wrong for him to cry, but you care far more about comforting him than finding out what.

·Despite the weight in your limbs, you reach up as he holds you close to weakly cup his face, shushing him with a promise he'll be okay before slipping into darkness.

·It's a stroke of fortune that Ratchet arrives when he does, catching the smaller mech holding your limp form tight as his shoulders shake in silent sobs, as the broken bot would have never allowed your loss to go unpunished. He's bordering on incoherent himself when the medic explains that the attack has been stopped, and that while communications are still down, he was able to isolate a portable supply of oxygen for you.

·It's almost too much for him to believe when the mask is laid over your face and life returns to your peaceful form. The medic confirms you'll survive, and while there will be a road to recovery, you shouldn't suffer any ill effects from the close call. He's torn between relief and still further worry.

·Had you not been saved, he's certain he would have donned his armor and annihilated each attacker personally, with little intention of living to fight another day... But as you recover in the aftermath, he instead throws himself into crafting regulations, trying to come up with a series of safeguards and rules to ensure this can't happen again. He drafts it all at your bedside.

·When you wake up he's effusive in his apologies. How could he not have predicted this? It's such an obvious possibility! He takes your tiny hand in his as he alternates between admonishing his tactical failure and begging forgiveness, forcing you to interrupt and quiet him down before he can say anything else against himself.

·You remind him that it's not his purpose in life to protect you, as he should know better than anyone your size doesn't mean you need constant protection. All you need is for him to be there, just as he is, which is what he's done.

·Only a few tears fall this time, and you're eternally grateful to confirm that they're from blissful relief. He doesn't know how you manage to always remove the weight of the world from his shoulders, but you do, and he'll treasure that more completely from now on.

[uponrightful]

So, I love possessive, jealous Crosshair 🥵 Tell me about this scene (please?):

“Trouble doesn’t suit you, doll.” He murmured lowly, soft voice contrasting the slight pressure over her pulse point and the swell of her hip. Crosshair was all-consuming and Dutch was weak to do anything but try to stay silent under his pressing weight and commanding presence at her back.

Also, I’d love to know what Echo was thinking once Cross went to the fresher after Dutch.

You’re the best! 😘

Commentary Track for Coriolis Effect

Copy 500 words -or more- of any of my fics and I'll give you my thoughts/rambles on what was going through my head -or the character's- when I wrote it!

*send one in here anytime!*

My oh my! 😍 What spicy scene we have here. I'll start with what's going on with Crosshair first, then I'll come back for Echo and the rest of the Batch. haha

***

Crosshair is fuming with rage during his conversation with Echo: It's that kind of bodily energy you get after watching a action-movie, where your whole body feels tired, but it's twitching with adrenaline that can't be spent or released. That kind of feeling you can't get rid of no matter what you do to ignore it, or work through it. Your mind feels like it working so fast that it's in slow-motion, overanalyzing the smallest details until your grinding your teeth because there's nothing else that helps relieve the pressure.

But the second he enters the refresher all of that energy snaps from anger and fear for Duchess, into dead calm. His inner voice stops screaming and evens out in tone and his hands stop shaking. His breathing slows and the second Cross sees her standing there, it's like he's been meditating deeply for hours. This kind of concentration is only present in Crosshair one other time... And you guessed it. When he's shooting.

Note: This is the epitome of Crosshair's ability to manage impulse-control in unfamiliar -and stressful- situations. Key-word here being "unfamiliar." I firmly believe that Cross is painfully terrible at monitoring and expressing his emotions. He has so many of them all the time that from a young age he had to learn how to turn them off in a moments notice, simply so he could survive. Think about it... How can a sniper worry about his brothers dying right before his eyes and still make clean shots? Not even Crosshair can do that. So the second he's certain Dutch is safe -by visually proving her health- that well-trained nature takes over to protect him like it always does.

Crosshair -at this point- isn't sure what he wants. He needs to touch her though, remind himself that she's tangible and within reach. Not that he isn't aware of his effect on her, but this moment isn't about sexual appeal or attraction. This is desperation, and Crosshair knows that; He's just banking on the hope that she'll let him, because she's always done so. He feels safe with Duchess, and even though this feels/looks sexy, Crosshair feels completely vulnerable right now.

Note: I will say it now; Once and for all. I have never subscribed to the idea that Crosshair is a typical Dominant/BDSM/Sadisim kind of guy. And the distinction is all to do with motivation. I've spent a lot of time trying to figure out why he acts the way he does, and how that manifests itself. So when I planned this scene, I wanted to focus on just how strong his desire to have security is. Not prowess, or control. It's all to do with the desperate need he has to prove how he feels about her. That kind of vulnerability just comes easier to him physically than it does emotionally. Duchess gives him a sense of stability -in and out of the sexual sense- that makes his characterization insanely complex and difficult to balance.

The moment he finds his words, it's a compulsory need to cover his own jealousy. Crosshair is undoubtedly unhappy knowing she went out with Regs... but what's really bothering him is how easy it is to feel so strongly for Duchess. Every time he speaks, it's intentionally driving attention towards someone else, and away from his own desire to be the focus of her attention. Cross uses his fear of her being unsafe to mask the jealousy that constantly compares himself to the others who can give her attention more freely than he can personally. Duchess sees his calm nature as patience and precision, but it's really Crosshair planning out what he's going to say because he knows one wrong move will reveal just how desperate he is to have her acceptance of him.

Note: I've never struggled to balance possessiveness and love like I have with Crosshair. He's so intense that if I'm not careful, he comes off like a walking red-flag. Word choice is essential when getting Cross' character and reactions right. Whether it be the way he talks to her, or the way he naturally falls into a protector role. That's why when I'm writing for him, it takes double the time it does to write anything else. Every movement, every word he says, needs to be written like he says it in the moment. That's the only way to show his softness... because the love that he gives is best felt in person. You can't describe Crosshair's love with words easily.

Now for sweet, sweet, Echo.

Let me preface this by saying: Echo is his brother's keeper. There is a relationship there that goes far deeper than the ones Crosshair holds for his other brothers. It happened slowly, but it wasn't until the two of them were too far into it that either recognized what had happened. Their personalities are something that wouldn't really mix on first glance, but for some reason or another, they just get each other. It's natural, and they gravitate towards each other.

That being said, Duchess and Echo are their own kind of dynamic. I see them as the "platonic-soulmate" kind. She has an intensity that Echo marvels at, and Dutch knows she could take any problem to him and he would do anything to help her. They both see something in the other that they wish they still had, or could develop. It's probably the purest friendship Duchess has ever had, and Echo can't help but harken back to Fives when he sees her attitude -in future chapters.

Note: From the first moment I created Duchess, I just knew in my heart she was meant to be something special to Echo. To me, it was only right that Crosshair's doll would feel strongly connected to Echo as well. Add in their common feeling of loss for brothers, and that just made their relationship that much stronger. She's such a force, and the ARC trooper can't help but find a enamorment with people who have such a strong will and fiery personality. (See Fives)

The moment Echo sees Crosshair, he's already preparing to do anything necessary to protect Duchess from incurring another possible hit to her bruised emotions. Echo trusts Crosshair, but he's highly attentive to Cross and how raw his emotions are. Their interaction is based in Echo's desire to save the couple from losing the chance to do things the right way. Intuition and experience guide Echo through the whole conversation; He really is flying by the seat of his blacks here... But he's so well-versed in reading Crosshair that none of the other Batcher's even think about offering to be the first one Crosshair faces when he comes in the bunk hall. Echo has unmatched faith in Cross, and this was something both of them knew would happen.

Note: Writing this scene was challenging for a number of reasons. For one, neither Echo or Crosshair really talk a whole lot. They say what they need to, and that's the end of it. So I spent days watching Echo and Crosshair's interactions. Trying to figure out what I could based off the -very little- examples I was given. In that, I found that the two of them hardly ever stand next to each other, but they're constantly sharing glances and looking at each other. Echo and Crosshair have silent conversations all. the. time.

Had Echo not allowed Crosshair to go and see Duchess, their sexy scene would have never happened. (And I played around with that idea very seriously...) Ultimately, Echo's intuition was the deciding factor. That conversation, and Crosshair's attempt at honesty was the reason Echo felt confident in letting him speak to her. And although Echo could sense Crosshair's patience running thin, he'd already told the rest of the Batch to be prepared for any fight. Echo wouldn't put it past Cross to stun him, but a gut-feeling kept him from mentally preparing to do the same thing.

Additionally, it was Echo who made everyone leave the bunk hall. The second Crosshair and himself reached an agreement, Echo was the first to step away. His next move was to shove the rest of the Batch out the doors and give Duchess and Crosshair the privacy needed to work through their shit. And although he expected it to end in sex, the desire to keep their business between them alone was Echo's main motivation to empty the bunk room. Neither Crosshair or Duchess really trust the Batch at this moment -in Echo's mind at least- and risking their privacy wasn't something the ARC would stand for. In the back of his mind though, Echo was terrified that Crosshair would fuck her and leave it at that. He's seen the sniper at his best and his worst, and although his best is wonderful, his worst can be miserable to endure. Echo was praying that Crosshair wouldn't be too harsh -physically and mentally- on Duchess.

When Hunter finally decided enough time had passed, Echo was on edge to see just where the two of them would be. The image of them sleeping in separate bunks: Crosshair pretending to sleep -like always- and Duchess laying quietly and pretending like nothing happened shook Echo to his core. But the second he saw her bunk in a disarray, and her not in it, Echo couldn't help but fucking grin. He was proud of his brother for doing the right thing. For doing something for himself, and not worrying about how it would make him look for once. Add in the way Crosshair reprimanded Tech, and how deathly serious he looked with her sleeping peacefully against him...?

That was the moment Echo knew for certain that Crosshair was never coming back from this. He saw a visible change in his brother, in the way his attitude changed. The way Crosshair wasn't worried about himself, or attempting to hide behind sneers and sarcastic comments. Echo noticed how attuned he was to her in that moment, putting her comfort above all else. For a man who pretended to not care about anything, Crosshair did a terrible job of hiding his true personality when Duchess was curled up into him. And Echo couldn't be happier, knowing that his trust in Crosshair hadn't been for nothing. Not only was his brother experiencing love in a way that all of them desired, but Duchess was never going to live with the question of whether or not someone truly cared for her.

***

I hope this was what you were looking for in-terms of answers 😅. I had a great time writing this for you, and I hope you'll feel comfortable doing this again whenever you feel like it! I love sharing the behind-the-scenes stuff with you! It makes the cuts and editing feel a little less sad knowing I might be able to share some of it with you anyways!

[annabethy]

under the mistletoe, watching the fire glow day 14: neighbor

Character A can’t travel to see their family on Christmas, so they invite their grumpy loner neighbor Character B,, percabeth, mildly suggestive

Percy’s heart drops as he stares at the screen in front of him. He doesn’t even bother reading beyond the words that tells him his flight is cancelled. It feels like forever that he’s staring at that screen, the feeling of sadness beginning to become overwhelming.

He doesn’t know that he’s ever been apart from his mom for Christmas in his entire twenty-two years of life. It’s the one time a year that he drops everything to see his family, but now the icy roads are stopping flow into the airports all around the city, and he’s sure that this Christmas is ruined.

Percy actually feels like crying as he shoves on a sweater and makes his way back onto his couch to call his mom. He hasn’t seen her in forever, and this was the only chance for him to see her for the foreseeable future. It’s a quick conversation with her reassuring him that she understands and will miss him. She teases him about being a mommy’s boy, and he can’t even argue because he really is.

He wipes a silent tear that falls from his face as he tells her, “I miss you.��

His mom, of course, never one to have shame, tells him, “You still have friends there. Why don’t you ask them over, so you don’t have to be alone?”

“They’re all home for Christmas.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. What about your neighbor?”

Percy scoffs playfully, knowing exactly where this is going. “What about my neighbor?”

“She’s cute.”

“I’m pretty sure she also wants me to die.”

“Then this is the perfect time to warm her up! Invite her over. I’m sure she’s not as bad as you think. Just don’t give me any grandkids quite yet.”

“Mom.”

She laughs over the phone. “Do what you want, baby, but it won’t hurt to ask her. I know she doesn’t have anywhere to go.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he dismisses. “I’ll think about it.”

“Do it for your mother,” Sally says. “I have to go now, okay? I love you.”

Percy swallows. “I love you too, momma.”

When the line clicks off, he feels so alone once again. He ends up turning on a random movie, but he doesn’t watch it, instead contemplating what he should do. He comes to the conclusion that there’s really nothing he can do because if he walks even two steps outside, he’s probably going to freeze to death. It confines him to his apartment building, where he knows actually no one besides his neighbor who doesn’t like him.

Okay. So he doesn’t actually know that she doesn’t like him, but he highly suspects it. He’s only spoken to her once, but it wasn’t a very pleasant conversation. It was more along the lines of can you shut the fuck up it’s three in the morning on her end, and then him saying I’m sorry, I just tripped and took down an entire table, and then she just kind of glared at him with her terrifying piercing grey eyes.

So yeah. It’s safe to say she doesn’t like him.

Still, he begins to think that she’s probably alone too. From the things he’s heard about her, especially from his mom who somehow managed to have a whole conversation with his neighbor the last time she visited, she has no family to go home to. Or maybe she did, but she wasn’t on good enough terms to return, or she just didn’t want to. Either way, she was alone, and Percy is a firm believer that no one should be alone on Christmas.

That’s how Percy finds himself standing outside of her apartment door, wondering if he’s actually about to invite someone who’s practically a stranger into his home. Apparently, he is.

Percy knocks gently twice before stepping back. The hallways are cold despite being inside, so he hugs himself as he waits. He’s sure he looks like a mess in his sweater and red sweatpants, so he’s a little self-conscious, but then he remembers that she doesn’t like him, and he has nothing to prove.

The door swings open abruptly, and Percy is met with Annabeth standing there, face unreadable. She’s looking at him expectantly, peeking out into the hall beyond him. When she finds no one else there, she looks back to him.

“Hi,” she says. “Did you need something?”

Percy shifts his feet, eyeing her sweater with snowflakes printed on it. He hadn’t expected her to enjoy festive clothes. “No, not really. I like the sweater by the way.”

“Thanks. So what did you need?”

“Nothing.”

Annabeth bites her lower lip. “Okay. Why are you standing outside my door then?”

“Oh. Right. Sorry, I forgot.”

She laughs hesitantly. “It’s fine. Just tell me what it is you came to tell me.”

“I was actually going to ask if you wanted to come over,” he says, pointing over his shoulder. “My flight was cancelled, and I didn’t want to be alone.”

“So you just assumed I had nothing better to do?”

Percy pauses. “Wait, no. I just heard that you were here for Christmas, and I thought you might want to do something so you’re not alone either.”

“What makes you think I would want to hang out with you?”

Percy is slightly offended. “I didn’t see why you wouldn’t. Did I do something?”

“No.”

“Then I don’t understand.”

“I just want to know why you’re asking me now, Percy.”

“You know my name?”

“We’ve only been living next to each other for two years,” she says.

“Right. Well, the honest answer is that my flight is cancelled, and my mom suggested I ask you to come over because you’re cute.” After that, Percy highly expects her to slam the door in his face because that’s just the way she is. Instead, she smiles and leans against the door.

“Your mom suggested you ask me out?”

“And hinted that we would be having sex if you must know. Which will not be happening.”

“Bummer,” she says, tilting her head. “If I do come, what would we do then?”

“We can watch movies or make cookies if you want. Whatever you want.”

“And if I want to have super hot Christmas sex?” From the tone of her voice, she is very obviously kidding.

“Then it’s a good thing neither of us are going to see family, isn’t it?” Percy says playfully back. “But seriously, are you coming?”

“Yeah, sure. Just give me a second.”

Percy waits for her outside as she heads back inside her apartment. It’s only a minute before she’s back out and locking her door as he leads her to his own apartment. The first step inside immediately warms him, and he thanks every god that exists that he managed to snag a heater for the living room.

Annabeth stands by the couch as she turns to him. “You promised me Christmas cookies?”

“Is that what you want?”

“I’d prefer it to a movie.”

Percy smiles, and he’s starting to think that maybe they’ll get along better than he initially thought. They stand in the kitchen as Percy grabs a random container of dough. He pulls out a bunch of candy and icing from last week when him and his friends made gingerbread houses, and Annabeth grabs them from his hand to examine them before setting them on the counter.

He preheats the oven before going to stand next to her again. “You ready to make the best cookies you’ve had in your entire life?” She grins. “It’s on.”

The next hour is spent with them competing over who can make the ugliest cookie. Percy has to admit that hers takes the lead with the biggest blobs on icing falling all over his counter.

She’s a lot easier to get along with than he initially thought. She laughs and smiles with him, and shoves his cookie into his face, smearing the frosting and sprinkles everywhere, and he doesn’t think he’s ever had this much fun before. He’s able to forget that he’s not with his mom because Annabeth is something else in itself. He doesn’t know how he hasn’t ever invited her out because she is practically his best friend already.

“Annabeth,” he chastises when she takes a bite out of his cookie.

“It tastes awful,” she says through the mouthful of sugar.

Percy’s stomach flutters. There’s a smudge of frosting on the corner of her mouth, and he has to resist wiping it away. He takes a bite himself and shoots her a look. “Liar.”

She just gives him a sweet smile.

“So,” she says, leaning against the counter, cookies now forgotten. “Why couldn’t you go home for Christmas?”

“The airports are all closed,” he tells her, shrugging. “But it’s okay. I’m having fun.”

“Still. It must suck to not be able to see your family.”

“But what about you? You don’t get to see your family.”

Annabeth stiffens, and Percy realizes he’s overstepped.

“I’m sorry. You don’t have to answer that.”

“It’s fine. I just don’t really get along with my family, so. I just stay by myself for most holidays.”

“You’re welcome to spend holidays with me then,” he offers.

“As kind as that is, you just met me today. I don’t think your family would react well to bringing home your neighbor that was an ‘asshole to you for no reason.’”

Percy pauses.

“I’m not stupid. I’ve heard what you told other people.”

He doesn’t know what to say. He can’t deny it because he really did say it, but he wouldn’t have if he knew that she would hear him. “I don’t think it’s true.”

“You still said it.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

She shrugs, humor in his eyes. It dawns on him that she finds making him feel guilty funny. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I promise I don’t think that.” He struggles to find words. “I actually really like you. This has been fun, and I don’t want you to think I haven’t enjoyed every minute with you because I have.”

She smirks. “So you don’t think that I’m an ass anymore?”

“I mean. A little bit, but it’s only because you just ate my fucking cookie.”

“It was a good cookie.”

“So you were lying!” he accuses.

“I wanted to win the competition!”

Percy smiles. “Then you win! I forfeit.”

“Forfeit? For me?”

“Of course. I was always taught to let the pretty girl win.”

“Pretty girl, huh?”

“Well, you are.”

“So you invited me over because I’m pretty? Not because you didn’t want to be alone?”

“I invited you over because my mommy told me to.”

“Your mommy also told you to flip me over and have your way with me.”

Percy chokes. “I promise my mom did not say that.”

“The point is you listened to her about everything else, and you told me we could do whatever I wanted.”

Percy can’t tell if she’s messing with him, so he keeps his cool exterior even though he’s combusted inside already. “And what you want is… a Christmas sex session?”

“You’re not the only one that’s cute.”

“Well now I want to kiss you.”

Annabeth raises an eyebrow. “Then do it.”

And he does.

He tugs her in close and kisses her hard. His brain stops functioning, and all he can think of is how he hasn’t done this before. It feels right, and it’s insane to think that she’s been living across the hall for the past two years when they could’ve been doing this. He threads his fingers in her hair, and she bites his bottom lip and lets out a whimper that makes his heart stop.

As Percy deepens the kiss and Annabeth tugs on the hem of his shirt until he pulls it off, he thinks that this Christmas might actually be the best one yet. He may not be with his mom, but it sure feels like he’s building something permanent with his hot next-door neighbor, and he wouldn’t change a thing.

He’s going to stop thinking of his mom now because this pretty girl in front of him nips at his jaw, and he thinks he knows where this is about to go.

It surely is a Merry Christmas.

[blueskrugs]

Bright Lights | Mat Barzal

it’s Christmas Eve! I feel like an important disclaimer to include is that I have never been to New York. most of the houses described in this are based on actual houses my family and I saw in our neighborhood when we went to look at lights the other day. this is another one for an anon, I hope you like it! 

33. driving around and looking at (and judging) Christmas lights

length: 700 words

Mat threw your coat on you where you were sitting on his couch watching some dumb Hallmark movie. 

“Ow?” you said, but you were already standing and pulling on your coat. Mat was standing near the front door, swinging his keys around his finger impatiently as you turned the TV off.

“I want to go look at Christmas lights,” he told you, and there was no way you were going to say no to that.

Mat drove, carefully making his way through the quiet streets. It was late enough there weren’t many other people out who had the same idea as you two, but most houses were still lit up.

“Do you even know where you’re going?” you asked. Mat made a face at you. “It’ll be fine,” he said, which actually meant “no,” but he wasn’t going to admit that.

The first house Mat pulled up to had a front yard absolutely covered in inflatables. Seriously. There had to be at least twenty inflatables, and they were spilling over onto the neighbor’s lawn.

“That thing’s gotta be at least 10 or 15 feet tall,” Mat said, pointing at one of the nutcrackers that stood sentry near the curb. It looked like it was taller than the small one-story house, for sure. 

“Wonder how high their electric bill is,” you commented idly.

“3/10,” Mat declared, pulling away from the curb. 

“Oh? Is that how we’re doing this?” you asked. You twisted around in your seat to get one last look at the house as Mat drove away. “Yeah, 3/10. Bit overkill.”

Soon, Mat was pulling up in front of another extravagantly lit house. It was one of the ones where all the lights were set to music, and there was a brief scuffle as you and Mat both reached for the tuning dial on the radio at the same time. 

Mat smacked your arm. “Dude! The trees are singing!” 

Indeed, four little trees on the roof had lit up with faces, and they were singing along to “Jingle Bell Rock” in three part harmony.

“Hmm. 8/10,” Mat said. “Nice, but way too many lights.”

“Neighbor gets 10/10 for the ‘Ditto’ sign, though,” you said. 

Mat kept driving, and you both kept calling out scores for houses you passed.

“Ugh. -10/10 for the creepy waving Santa.”

“2/10. Uncreative and boring.”

“Is that a unicorn?”

“I appreciate the dedication to the theme, but all Nightmare Before Christmas stuff is kinda creepy.”

Mat seemed to be driving aimlessly, but after a while, his turns started having more purpose.

“Mat, where are you taking us?” you asked, looking out your window.

“One of the guys told me about this house,” Mat trailed off, carefully making a right turn onto a dark street. 

He never finished his sentence, but it didn’t matter because in another minute you saw the house in question. The house itself sat way back from the road on hill, but all the trees on their property were wrapped in lights, and there were all kinds of light-up animals scattered across the grass. 

“Holy shit,” you said. 

There was a sign inviting people to “Come on down!” so Mat pulled off the road and onto the long, looped driveway. The house had been decked out, too, you saw as you got closer.

“They have another one of those waving Santas,” Mat pointed out, and there he was on the top step of the porch. 

“Those things are terrifying,” you said.

Mat kept driving, and soon you were back on the road and headed home. Mat was quiet for a while, and the only sound in the car was the Christmas music playing on the radio.

“Whatcha thinking about?” you asked, poking Mat in the bicep.

“Can’t wait until we have a house of our own, and we can go all out for Christmas,” he said, grabbing your hand and holding it over the gearshift.

“No way, we are not becoming those people,” you laughed.

“What d’you mean? Are you saying you don’t want a 10-foot inflatable Santa on the roof?” Mat asked you, but he was giggling, too.

[catxsnow]

I’M BATMAN B.W.

Request: Can I request a Bruce x reader fic? Where Bruce and the reader are together for a while. Bruce thought it would be just like his old flings but he realises that he's fell in love with the reader so he decides to tell her he is Batman. And during the confession he starts with "I am..." and the reader finishes with "Batman!" as a joke but then of course it turns out to be not a joke. After that an awkward but emotional conversation ensues. Whether you write it or not, thank you!

Warning: mentions of sexual content, fluff

A/N: I’m sorry that it’s taking me so long to get some of these requests out! I promise you they’re being written! 

Also the second I watch the New 52 animated movies I am the BIGGEST Bruce Wayne whore. One look at this motherfucker and I am WEAK

GIF not mine

Word count: 2.1k

When you first started seeing Bruce, it was nothing but casual. He would show up to your apartment or you to the manor, you'd spend your couple hours together tangled between his sheets and then both of you would continue on with your day. You were a fling, and at first, you loved it.

Bruce Wayne wasn't just the richest person in the Gotham, he also had to be the hottest too. For you to catch his eye was a mystery upon itself. You met him at work and had just luckily stumbled into him when you were walking through Wayne Enterprises. It was rare to ever see him while you were working.

Apparently you made enough of an impact on him for him to ask you if you would like to see each other that night. The look in his eyes had made you agree without even hesitating. Least to say, Bruce found out he like your bed more than he was expecting to.

It was nearly a year that the two of you would have casual sex. Never staying the night, never talking about what the hell was going on between the two of you. It was all fine and dandy until Bruce started getting you to stay over at the Manor. It wasn't very often that you would, but during the times that you did, you found yourself gaining feelings for him that you had managed to avoid the entire year.

You were smitten with Bruce and he saw you as nothing but a fuck.

Or so you assumed. Bruce wanted more with you. He didn't want this casual relationship anymore. It was so easy to talk to you about anything, even if you didn't know everything in his life. Bruce found a comfort in you that he didn't have in a long time. He found love in you.

It wouldn't be late nights that you would see each other any more. Bruce would find you while you worked and offered to go buy you lunch. Lunch dates turned to dinner dates which turned to him asking you to be his girlfriend. You felt giddy like high school girl again when he started to spoil you.

Your periodically timed sex with him turned into a full blown relationship. Down to the 'I love you' and the 'I want you to meet my kids'. Things with Bruce Wayne had become more serious than you ever imagined they would be. At the start of this, you always assumed that he would get tired of you and move on. He was the biggest playboy in Gotham.

You were surprised that you were the person to get him to change his ways.

That night, you and Bruce laid in his bed. The two of you half naked with a thin layer of sweat covering your bodies. You traced random little shapes into his skin as he stared up at the ceiling. You could tell by the way that his eyebrows furrowed that he was deep in thought.

"Penny for your thoughts?" You asked, sitting up right in the bed so you could see his face properly. The sheets were pulled up your chest as you reached for the shirt that he had previously been wearing. Bruce watched as you pulled the material over your head.

"I love you," he answered. Bruce was very cut off from you sometimes. You felt like you knew him pretty well, but then there were times that you felt like you didn't know him at all. Of course you knew about his childhood and his parents, you figured that was why he was so reserved sometimes. You learned not to pry, if he wanted to tell you, then he would.

"I know," you smirked at him. Bruce trailed his hand up your bare leg until he reached your waist. "But seriously, Bruce. You've been more quiet than usual, what's going on?" You were worried about him. It had only been a few years that you guys were together - half of that being just hooking up - but that didn't mean that you didn't know him well enough to see when he was conflicted about something.

Bruce said nothing. The pad of his thumb swiped against your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps. No matter how many times he touched you, he had the same affect that he had on you in the beginning.

You didn't push him to say what was on his mind. Bruce was a man of many secrets, that was just something that you were forced to learn to accept. You had your arguments about it, the bickering. The 'where were you last night' fights. All of them ended with Bruce assuring you that he loved you, and only you.

"I want to tell you something," Bruce finally caved. He was propped up on the pillows he had on the bed. His one hand still lingered on your skin and the other was tucked behind his head. The turmoil he had within himself about telling you the truth was eating him alive. You were the person that he wanted to spend his future with, meaning you needed to know the truth.

He just hoped that you felt so strongly about him as well. It wasn't often that either of you brought up the future, each to scared for your own reasons to see if the other was as committed. Of course you loved Bruce, you wanted to spend your life with him, to marry him one day. But he was so closed off, you couldn't tell if he ever wanted the same as well.

"So tell me," you continued for him when he took a pause. Bruce's eyes were filled with worry, doubt, you could tell that he was hesitant to tell you this. You pried his hand away from your waist and entangled your fingers. His hands felt so large in yours, years worth of callouses laced them.

"There's no easy way to tell you," Bruce tried to get you prepared. He felt your grip on him tighten before easing up again. Your heart rate was rising with nerves and you were terrified with what he was going to say. There was an endless list of possibilities and each one of them ended poorly for you. He was after all, a well-known playboy. "I am..."

"Batman!" You joked. As you laughed, you could see that his face was not only shocked but nearly... proud? Bruce's eyes darted away from you for a moment and your face dropped. You had only been joking to lighten the mood. Fear of what he could say clouded you and you blurted out the first thing that you thought would make you laugh.

But here Bruce was, shying away from you gaze and his hand limp in yours. You expected the worst from him - he was cheating on you, he didn't love you - and you were willing to say anything to stop your heart from racing out of your chest. But now, seeing the look on his face, what he wanted to tell you was nothing that you expected.

"Wait..." you trailed off. Your playful attitude washed away and quickly turned into a whole new kind of worry. Bruce Wayne, Batman? The more you thought about it the more it made sense. His sudden disappearances, his scars, his adoption of kids even lined up with the change in Robins. "That wasn't seriously it, was it? Bruce you're joking, you're not really Batman are you?"

"I'm Batman," Bruce confirmed. He was telling the truth. As much as he hid things from you - and now you could see why - he never lied to you. You sat their with your mouth agape, still processing his words. Your boyfriend, the loving and caring man that took care of you when you needed him was the same person that risked their life every night and mercilessly beat up criminals.

You needed a minute to process all that. After living in Gotham your whole life you had heard the rumors of the bat, at first you didn't believe them until you had seen him on the news. You never had the luxury of meeting him, and to be honest you were glad you didn't. He had always scared you.

Someone who went against psychopaths like Joker and Two-Face had to be some what insane.

Bruce watched you get off the bed and pace around him. You felt small under his gaze, the sudden information made you realize that he could squash you like a bug if he so wanted to. You were already intimidated by how fit he kept himself but knowing that he was Batman as well? That made you feel incredibly weak.

You guided your hands through your messy hair, unable to think clearly. All your thoughts were jumbled as you tried to piece everything together. The night at the gala that he had suddenly left you - the same night that Batman had put Bane in Arkham. The time that he had a bruise on his jaw and assured you that he had just been a klutz.

Bruce keeping so many things from you - this had covered just about every mystery there was to him. He kept you in the dark for so long because he not only wanted to protect his identity, but you. If he was telling you now, that meant that he must have wanted to keep you around for a while.

As you heart swelled with love rather than betrayal, you had finally stopped your pacing. Bruce had sat on the edge of your bed with nothing  but his underwear and tired eyes. He yearned for your touch, to comfort you through this revelation. However, he also could understand if you never wanted to see his face again.

Not everyone believed in the Batman.

Lucky for him, you did. Bruce was caught off balance as you pounced on him. His back fell against his bed and you straddled over top of him. Bruce trailed his hands up your bare legs to your hips as you kissed him. All those nights worrying what he was doing, you should have been worried about his life.

"I want to see it," you pulled away. "The legendary batcave. Prove you're really the bat." A coy grin played on your lips. Bruce knew that face, he knew what kind of trouble it could lead to. The last time he had seen that face, you had dragged him into his work office and gave him the best head of his life. This time, the circumstances were a little different.

Bruce nodded at you. He shoved on a pair of pants and lead you out of his room and towards the study. You watched as he opened the face of the old grandfather clock and pulled one of the dongles. A loud clicked echoed through the manor and the clock suddenly opened. No way.

Bruce gestured for you to follow. Your bare feet padded against the cold steps. He held your hand the whole way down, ensuring that you wouldn't fall. Bright lights shone through the dark cave and you were amazed by the room. Batman was truly equipped for anything. The space was incredible.

The suit Batman wore was on a mannequin in one of the glass cases. You stood before it, having to gaze up at it's glory. Bruce stood behind you, perfectly eye level with the cowl. He was Batman.

"Bruce this is incredible," You gawked. "I can't believe you trust me with this secret."

"Of course I trust you," Bruce assured. "You're the love of my life. If I want to spend a future with you,  you need to know all parts of my life." He continued to shock you that night - wanting a future with you as well? Bruce Wayne was full of surprises and you didn't think that you could handle anymore that night.

"I love you, too," You turned to face him. Once again, you had to stand on your toes to peck his lips. Bruce didn't realize how much weight was off his shoulders now that you knew the truth. He was tired of tip toeing around you all the time.

"Will you take me for a ride in the batmobile?"

"If you would like."

"Will you let me drive it too?"

"Don't push your luck."

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

"Won't it suck, Cas?" Dean declares, as Castiel enters their room with bags hoisted on both shoulders, and elbows the door shut behind him - because apparently when you're pretending to date in front of your parents, sometimes they turn out awesome enough for you to get to - or, Dean supposes he should say, have to share a room.

Cas puts the bags down, next to their bed.

"Won't it totally, and completely, and really suck if our cover blew?"

"Who suspects what?" Cas turns, with a frustrated frown. Which soon flips to a planning, expressionless face. "Because I've still got some of those baking-stories left. I believe I can swing them into a conversation." Cas folds his arms. "And you should come with me. You tell them great, because it's the one thing which isn't a lie."

That - isn't completely fair.

A lot of things, at least as far as Dean sees them, have not been lies.

Dean does make Cas coffee every morning, sometimes takes it to his bedroom too, and Cas does do most of the shopping for the flat - there's this inside joke Dean has going with Cas's brother Gabriel, that the employees at Walmart are terrified of Cas because he once threatened someone over pie, which he never forgets, and Dean always gets so soft over that story.

They do share clothes sometimes, even if it's just ratty t-shirts they'll never wear outside, and they do have movie nights every Thursday where Dean comes up with amazing films and Cas unpreventably falls asleep in the middle of them. And they did name all of Cas's bees one night, drunk and dreamy on the balcony.

Sure, they don't fall asleep in each other's arms later, or do the couple-y things they've had to edit into otherwise real stories, but Dean thinks he makes up for it by being in all kinds of love with Cas.

Not that Cas knows, of course.

"Well, I don't doubt that you've got enough adorability ammo." Dean returns, grinning. "We are pretty cute, to be fair. And, nope." He clarifies. "Nobody doubts that we're not dating yet."

When opportunity had presented itself a couple weeks ago, at the beginning of December, Dean had found in himself just enough courage to ask Cas if he'd be okay with being his fake-date for New Year's, since he was spending it with the Winchesters anyways - adding hurriedly, that if Cas felt weirdly about it at all, he could drop the idea right there, and he'd quietly just go off in search of someone else and not bring it up again.

Cas had blinked at him a few times before saying okay, and what a wonderful understatement that had been because by the time they had to leave for Kansas, Cas was more invested in the program than he'd ever been.

"Yet?" Cas recoils, eyebrows knitted together. "What are you implying, Dean?"

What had started off as a means to shirk off lectures from his family, was now being treated like a mission. But as of the moment, sitting cross-legged on the edge of the bed - Dean is happy. He's around the people he loves most, and well-fed on a heavy homemade lunch and two beers, and he's feeling light-hearted and brave.

"Tonight's fireworks night." Dean shrugs, trying to go for nonchalant and hoping he lands in non-shy, at the very least. "Out by the riverfront, sitting on blankets on the grass, and staring up at the night sky - the whole shebang."

"So?"

"People will probably expect us to kiss." Dean clears his throat, studying Cas's face for reactions. There's nothing for him there, but he doesn't stop staring. "And since we can't do that, we might -"

"I -" Cas interrupts, and maybe he's blushing a little. Jesus, Dean hopes he is. "I can."

Dean raises his eyebrows.

"Kiss, I mean."

And fuck that fucking fucker for not specifying that he can kiss Dean, because those words, strung together in a sentence and delivered in Cas's glorious fucking voice would've automatically sent Dean to paradise.

Dean's run out of things to say so he lets out a sound that's supposed to be the wordless equivalent of a 'huh'.

"I-if we had to." Cas adds, uncertainly. "Couldn't you?" He asks, and the ball is back in Dean's pitiable court.

"No, yeah." Dean supplies, and his voice cracks unhelpfully. He clears his throat and braves on to previously untraversed territory. "I could. Sure, I could."

That's one too many, and Dean wants to swallow his words back but Cas has already heard them, and there's a slow smile stretching slowly on his features.

"Then what's the problem?"

"It'd be obvious," Dean answers him, matter-of-factly. "Way too obvious that it's our first kiss. The, uh." He can't believe he's actually saying these words. "Being that close, basically. First times are bound to be weird - just the very newness of someone's lips on yours." He's goddamn rambling but he isn't going to be the first to acknowledge whose, either.

Cas's cheeks are sufficiently pink by now for Dean to feel a little bit triumphant. But then it's his turn. "You're not wrong." He begins, nodding seriously, in spite of his flustered voice. "It takes all couples a while to fall into rhythm. Sync up pace, get comfortable touching each other, and grow familiar with their partner's technique."

They're both just saying words now, and it doesn't really mean much - in fact, it's infinitesimal as compared to the lengths being exchanged by means of a long-held stare.

Questions are proposed within the silence, and permissions are granted in whispers.

"Not for nothing," Dean finally says out loud. "But maybe we should get the first time out of the way."

Cas steps closer, and there's a twinkle in his eye. "Maybe we should." Dean keeps on staring, his tongue shooting out to wet his lips. "Maybe, right away."

Dean stands up, breathing out traces of a 'yes' and Cas is right there. He's so close, and so gorgeous, and just that one inch shorter - so Dean can just lean in and Cas will probably go on his toes a little bit, and it'll be like they're meeting in the middle, and -

Dean's so lost thinking about it that he almost misses the first spark which goes through him like goddamn electricity in his veins, when Cas's hand cups his cheek, fingers splayed on his neck and thumb oh-so-close to his lips.

Dean can feel his breath hitch when Cas gently runs the pad of his thumb across the bottom lining of Dean's lower lip, and he doesn't have a single thought in his head except for Cas, Cas, Cas, as he reaches forward to grab the lapels of his coat and closes the gap.

He knows he's probably expected to ingest the intricacies of how the kiss feels - the details of Cas's taste and smell and touch; the curve of his lips, the stubble across his jaw, and his hand on Dean's face.

But far from mapping Cas's fucking technique - Dean can't even process when he's supposed to pull back. All he can do is stay, hands entangled in Cas's coat, and trapped between them, eyes closed but all other senses overly sensitive to everything Cas does.

It's not like he doesn't do his bit, but that's all instinct - his brain's signed out for the day, and this is just his nerves in command. It should be terrifying, feeling this lost - or more appropriately, afloat, in the middle of a kiss, but as their noses bump and lips collide, in slightly different angles each time they pull off to gasp for breath, it just feels right.

It feels real.

Their first kiss isn't just one kiss, Dean muses, as they separate finally but linger. It's an amalgamation of a thousand kisses, and a half a thousand breaths because Cas kept taking his away - and it's the way Cas's hand came to rest on Dean's arm, and Dean's fingers clutching a soft material which is more Cas than anything else he owns, and it's every little everything, and then some.

"Wow." Dean sighs, and he doesn't even regret sounding as overwhelmed as he does. "Cas, I - wow."

He's never been kissed like that.

Cas looks back at him a little starry-eyed, and proceeds to relax into a gummy smile instead of words - and it's happy, and lovely, and perfect.

"I might be wrong," He mutters, stepping ahead, and there's no space left, so Dean falls back to sit on the bed in surprise. "But second kisses can be pretty tricky too."

"Right." Dean scoots on backwards on the mattress, and Cas follows, climbing on the bed. "Right, yeah, with all the pressure from the first -"

"And the relatively newfound elements of intimacy -"

"And the -" Dean tries to add, but Cas is unbelievably kissable, just leaning over him, with his smile and his eyes and his hands, and Dean stops himself short. "We just really shouldn't risk it."

And that's all the preamble before he's pulled Cas over him, lips desperately seeking out all the right places to be, and their hands all over the place like they're trying to make up for years of tension in a single minute - but after a while, they're back to kissing slow and deep and warm, and he's wrapped his hands around Castiel's neck - and Castiel's fingers ghost over his spine every now and then, from where his hands rest on Dean's waist -

And it's everything Dean's ever wanted it to be.

[popculturebuffet]

Amphibia Reviewcaps: The Dinner/Battle of the Bands “It’s You”

Hello all you happy people! And i’m almost to the finish line.  6 months (subtracting the ones where there were no new episodes) worth of weekly coverage and with next week i’ll have completed my second full season of reivews of a show as they came out, and my first full season of amphibia. If you’d like to see season 1 it’s up high on my stretch goals at 45 with reviews of Disney movies based on shows (The Proud Family, Recess and Kim Possible), Gravity Falls and more along the way if your curious. Check it out HERE. I’m also doing exclusive reviews eveyr month now with the coasional one thrown in randomly so check that out. New period starts in a week so please join before then.

So naturally with the big finale and all the tensions in amphibia close to reaching a boil next week, this week’s a bit more low key. Still not unimportant, with some massively good character work and in fact The Dinner is easily one of my faviorites of the season, but still nothing to move the plot too far forward. Just some nice character stuff to help inch us towards the climax next week. The calm before my heart is stillbeatingly ripped out of my chest. Which I will grant the show, having my heart ripped out Mola Ram style by some combination of Brenda Song and Keith David is how I wanted to go, i’m just not ready yet. So while I steel myself for the utter heartbreak of next week, I have my throughts on this weeks episodes under the cut!

The Dinner: 

I did tip my hand a bit by saying this was one of my faviorties of the season.. and I stand by that. This one was excellent. It was rife with tension while still somehow being a fun breather episode before hell arrives. 

As the title suggest the Plantars are having Grime and Sasha over for a fancy dinner, followed by games and such. Only Annearcy are happy about this though, Marcy still not getting quite how bad Sasha has gotten during her stay here and Anne hoping she has changed.  The Plantars, Sprig in paticular, still resent them for the whole toad tower fiasco, which is fair. You don’t forget someone trying to murder you over night, let alone your whole town. Hop Pop is using Frobo as the Grill by the way which is just visually fucktacular I gotta admit. He does get some more use these episodes, being used as a Grill here and as the fog machine and Polly’ sminon next episode. Good work boy. That’s my robot frog soldier builder whatever you are. 

Sasha and Grime are likewise not enthused. Sasha isn’t because her friends expect her to “Ugh” change and grow and stuff and isn’t happy about it and is confident she can return to rulling over them once her plan is done. Dude.. that’s not how a healthy throuple works. Or a healthy anything. Grime is more worried about her blowing it with her anger and control issues, but feels. this is VITAL to convincing the plantars to trust them long enough for their plan to go off. He even demands she remove her sword and all her knives... and she has a lot of them. Evne in her boot “How do you even walk?” Good question grime. 

My answer?

So what follows is about 8 minutes of the most hilariously awkward dinner since that time Micheal Scott decided to have a dinner party even though his relationship was horribly crumbling, as everyone but Anne and Marcy shoves their foot in their mouth at some point or makes some sort of screw up. Oh and Polly I guess she’s more content to just watch the show. Seriously i’m not usually a fan of cringe comedy.. but the series makes it work here as our heroes attempt to interact with thier old eneimeis and vice versa. 

For starters we have our guests arrvial, where Grime and Sasha both look objectively terrifying before things cool down. Then we have dinner itself where both Hop Pop and Grime prove to be the racist kind of grandpa as Grime asks what frogs they subjigated to get these turnips and Hop Pop makes an awkward lightbulb joke about Toads that Grime finds hilarious but everyone else was rightfully afraid would get the old man gutted by the other more violent old man. I imagine this happened a lot on the Lost Light once Megatron took over co captiancy. You just don’t fight a guy for a good hundered years without being nervous he’s going to blast you to fucking pieces. 

Sprig dosen’t help before all this by taking a seat next to anne and marcy specifically to piss her off, and out of all of them is the most openly hostile to her. Given Anne’s his best friend and Sasha did a LOT of emotional damage to her.. yeah fair enough. 

Things only esclate when it comes to frog pictionary. Suprisingly Hop Pop gets Grime’s Drawins and Sasha gets his, with both her and sprig trading escalating barbs and her barely containing her rage when Anne calls her on it since unlike her, Sprig has a reason to still be upset with her. This reaches a breaking point when Sasha attempts things, trying to desperatly win her friends back with the old times now they have their ownt imes apart.. only for Sprig to accidnetlay mock Sasha’s near sucicide,s aying she “slipped”.. granted I do think he geninely just can’t forgive her.. but it’s very clear she did not.. she let herself go to save them, and he’s just as in denial about it as Sasha and just as much a dick about it. 

Sasha flips out at him, and gets penalized for talking which only pisses her off MORE and understandably so. Anne leaps to the plantar’s defense but honestly.. both sides are understandabliy angry here. The Plantars are right to still not trust her after everything especially since she hasn’t outright apologized to them and her and Grime’s general response to the incident is “One Time!”... which works for say, taking the last slice of pizza without asking or slamming their face in a car door, but not so much “Trying to murder all of you for personal and stupid reasons.”. But at the same time Sprig DID cross the line really bad when she saved his fucking life. It dosen’t automaitcally erase the bad things she did but it dosen’t give him lisence to mock her. WHile I get he’s 10 and dosen’t get it was part suicide, he still is blantaly ignoring her trying to do something selfless because he can’t admit there’s any good in Sasha. Sasha is not a GREAT person.. but there IS good in her. She just has to WANT to seek that out instead of her inherent seflishness and need for control and Anne and Marcy are absolutely right for trying to help her instead of just slamming the door in her face. 

But soon eveyroen gets distracted by the cake which floods the room with molten lava. Hop Pop assumes it was some sort of trick.. but hilariously turns out no, Grime really was trying to be nice. That’s just how this works and it’s delcious once it hardens.. assuming you survivie the hornets, with fighting them being the best part of it. And yes hornets shoot out of the cake. Are you suprised at this point? They also paralize grime leaving our heroes without the one person among them who knows what their doing. 

SO our heroines are forced to fight some hornets, with Sasha trying to take lead.. only for Anne to do so and succeed at it, figuring out that while weapons can’t pierce them their own stingers might and having Marcy use her crossbow to launch the stinger in grime at them, and then has Sasha distract the rest to take them out. 

So our heroines reconcile with Sasha admitting she might not want to change and Anne admitting that’s okay.. she just has to accept things have changed with THEM and that her friends HAVE. And genuinely or not Sasha agrees to that, while Grime is bummed he missed the party and the lava hardens into chocolate, with eveyrone enjoying some cake and dead insects. As you do

Final Thoughts on The Dinner: As I said, this is one of the best episodes of the season> The tension is paltable, and it dosen’t fully resolve it, rightly as we still have one final season to go for that. More than that.. it’s hilarious. All the jokes land, and there were far too many to get into here. 

Battle of the Bands:

Now this is a classic breather episode, our last chance to rest and get all slice of lifey before things go up in flames next week. 

With the town all nervous because of Sasha and Grime’s presence, Mayor Toadstool decides to spin the wheel of fun to decide on an activity. I can’t remember if this is a new thing or not but I loves it. It lands on Battle of the Bands so the girls decide to get their old band Sasha and the Sharks back together. As for the rest of the cast, Hop Pop and Sprig join a Jug band and Grime has his own musical domination to plot out, so that just leaves us with the thropule, Poly and Frobo for an episode. 

The group have fun... until Anne unveils her heartfelt song based on her time here. Well okay only Sasha isn’t having fun and quickly tries to take over, as you’d expect and Anne pushes back as you’d expect. Sasha takes her ball and goes home as.. you get it by now> The plot here is not very complex or unique.

But as with all the Sasha episodes this season including the last one, we get a deeper sense of her character. Here she outright admits she dosen’t know what to do when she’s not in control. She needs to be in charge of the situation. It also explains why unlike Marcy and Anne she didn’t change for the better: Her need for control shuts out any possiblity of self reflection and thus self improvment. Self Improvment, and I know this from experince, requires you to admit your flaws and face them. It’s something I can admit to struggling with as I fall back into old patterns often. Admitting flaws would be admitting a loss of Control and Sasha.. can’t. She honestly can’t. 

Of all people i’ts TOADIE who convinces her sometimes i’ts better to let someone else take the lead and that it’s better to support the ones you love than subjugate them. Granted Toadie himself is too far in the opposite direction, but he makes a valid point.. something I never thought i’d say. Sometimes you just have to let someone do what they want.. and watching her two girlfriends perform up on stage.

I also will say I love a good talent show, battle of the bands what have you episode. One of my faviorite movies, True Stories, climaxes in one. 

And yes that was John Goodman and yes he does indeed sing...

Seriously watch this movie. It’s fucking amazing. And yes that was the Talking Heads David Byrne, he wrote this movie and there’s two talking heads songs in it. Watch it. 

Point is we get a great one, paticuarlly chuck. 

He grows SINGIN tulips just a fun one.. but i’ts that finale with the girls that really makes it with Sasha realizing that them being HAPPY is better than her being in control..and they didn’t grow PAST HER or leave her behind just because they grew.. they simply should be free to be themselves. And that maybe trying to conquer a country just to do that ain’t right. IT’s really sweet

So she runs in to do the guitar solo, and its aweosme and they only don’t win because it turns out Grime is fucking MAJESTIC on a harp. But Sasha finally grows a bit admitting that having fun is what mattered... 

And it’s abotu to burst as Mayor Toadstool, in a show of how far he’s come, points out Anne is leaving soon and Anne gives a heartfelt goodbye to everyone.. that said.... someone clearly has other plans.. and for once i’ts NOT Sasha. 

There’s nothing but foreshadowing in that face. That’s a face that says “Uh.. about that”. And again SASHA is showing emotinal vunerablity and hapiness.. but it’s Marcy, whose pretty open emotiionally whose visably worried and clearly knows Andrias has other plans.. other plans he talked her into. Gratned he probably didn’t tell her said plans involve The Watcher with a Thousand Eyes, but she still KNOWS she’s plottingthings.. and know’s she’s about to betray the people closest to her. 

Before we move on though those outfits ar esharp. Just damn. Especially Sasha’s punk look. The songs this episode are also both excellent and I had no idea Brenda Song and Anna Akana could sking like that. God damn. 

So with Anne leaving for home she gets one last group photo. It’s majestic and we’re out. 

Final Thoughts: This one is pretty good. Not a lot to talk about outside of Sasha but a really fun episode that both moves her foward and moves us toward the finale. ANd it’s nice to see the three just happy together... before the hell that’s about to arrive. 

Next Week: War Were Declared, our heroes prepare to fight bravely against the hoard of toads... and both Sasha and Marcy come to the crossroads of destiny Tommorow ON This Blog:

So it’s up to Jean Grey and Emma Frost to go in and sort it out.. and then fight off the full might of an alien empire. No pressure. 

Until the next rainbow it’s been a pleasure

[thebad---catholic]

Snyder Cut review (No Spoilers)

I’ve seen this movie twice in 24 hours. You’ve seen the theatrical release, forget about it. That no longer happened, as far as I’m concerned. You’re in for a completely new (and far better) experience.

Storytelling and writing.

Just *chefs kiss*. There’s proper buildup for every major component of the plot. There’s some exposition, but it’s done so beautifully it doesn’t take you out today the story at all. It’s not really backstory so much, but instead tiny stories tucked neatly within a greater narrative. The shitty jokes that everyone made fun of are not here and it’s not missed. It takes itself seriously, without looping back into ridiculousness. It’s not condescending either; it shows what it can and tells only what it has too.

The four hours aren’t superfluous like I’d feared. The story takes its time, establishing our characters and their personalities, our villains motives, and still manages a satisfying payoff. Each of the 6 parts work to accomplish different things and all feel distinct.

The final part of the epilogue kind of confused me? I can’t explain why without spoiling it, so I’ll just say this: if this experience has taught me anything, it’s to trust Zack Snyder.

Visuals

Now, I will say this- there are some points where the cgi feels a little weak. However, there are so many stunning visuals that more than make up for it. Several times I would just look at a shot and wish I could print it out and hang it on my wall. It’s not as bright as the theatrical release (and that’s a good thing) but everything remains easy to distinguish

Cyborg

Holy shit. Quite possibly my favorite character in this movie. The theatrical release massacred his character, and nerfed him to high hell. In the theatrical release, he feels...extra? Like “oh cool, look at this robot guy”. In the Snyder cut he’s integral, far more powerful, and adds real heart to the movie. Just perfect. I’m like, actually angry about how he was treated by Joss Wheadon

Flash

The other emotional lynchpin in this movie. He can be a little annoying sometimes, but honestly? I’m pretty sure that was intentional. You get the sense that Barry is processing the world so much faster than it’s coming at him, making him a little overbearing and awkward. He’s responsible for the majority of the breathtaking scenes, and his chemistry with Cyborg and Batman is adorable.

Lois

So much better than the theatrical release. This movie made you care about her grief. The world lost Superman, but she lost Clark. Like the others, she feels like she belongs in this movie instead of just being thrown in. The same sentiment extends to Martha, but to a lesser degree.

Wonder Woman

Queen. Absolutely carries the first three parts of the movie. She’s a fucking tank and we love that for her. Personality wise, she’s among my favorite renditions of WW: kind and loving to the people she protects, and a fucking savage to the people she’s protecting them from. Not a fan of wonderbat, but nothing is concrete which helps me ignore it.

Not the same note, I love love love the Amazons. They’re so cool.

Superman

The amount of ass Superman kicks in this movie is, quite frankly, disrespectful. He’s terrifying, and the DCU is very lucky he’s a good guy. Anyway I love him.

Batman and Aquaman

Honestly, I’d say they’re a little out shown by everyone else, but the movie obviously wouldn’t be complete without them. Alfred and Bruce’s dynamic is much more natural, and Aquaman isn’t just the meathead he was in the Wheadon version. They’re both badass in their own right.

Conclusion

Go watch it. The first hour is the hardest to get through, but after that, you feel like no time passes at all.

Just a solid movie. I say 8.5/10

[tangleweave]

@brooklynislandgirl asked:

{Sinday # 12 & 13: Eddie} Perhaps the most satisfying thing about being friends with Eddie Brock is how very little expectation there is on his end. She's been in situations before where she's asked a co-worker or other associate if they wanted to spend time together, even something so simple as grabbing pizza and watching a movie, or hiking, surfing, any of the hundreds of things she likes to do to blow off steam or give herself a chance to relax after gruelling weeks as a trauma nurse, or in her own clinic as a nurse-practitioner and certified midwife. She knows a lot about birthing babies, just no practical experience making them, or even really being able to.  Invariably, though, there's some expectation of an end-of-date kiss. Or that by allowing someone into her house that she's also making the invitation for them to try to get into her underthings, her bed, her... everything else, which it never is. She's faced disappointment and anger because of that, stared unblinking into a familiar face while being called very insulting but ultimately inaccurate words. Eddie doesn't do that.

She knows now that their rooftop picnic had been a first date. That he was gently putting forth interest in spending time with her. Getting to know her on a more intimate level. But he'd done so as a friend. Any romanticism had been nearly accidental.

And each subsequent meet up carried the same breezy comfort. Eddie would no more demand anything of her than she would be inclined to chop him up and stick him in a freezer for later consumption. She would tease him that it's because she doesn't really eat meat. Even when he's caught her dead-to-rights stealing a piece of bacon right off the plate when he's making breakfast. Eddie is gentle. And as often as he seems down on his luck, there's something terribly sweet about him that appeals to her. So while he's sitting on what is rapidly becoming his side of the couch, game-controller between his hands and the muscles and veins there attract her like those little silvery things that people put on fishing lines ~lures?~ she can't help but lower the really rather torrid romance novel she'd been reading, at least enough that only her eyes peek out over the top of the pages. Hiding the fact that she's biting her lower lip and debating asking what she's about to. "Hey, Eddie?" Innocent enough a beginning and she waits for him to pause the game. "D'you evah...uhm... do... po... erotica? Like I know everyone say men are into dat kinda t'ing, and you're a man, but..." She waves fingers at him, a little pixie like gesture. "I don' wanna assume. But if you do...like wha' kind? Girl on Girl kine, or maybe boy on boy? Couples? Monsters an' barbarians an' swords? An' mebbe...d'you prefer it in like video? Magazine? Written?" She blushes then from roots of her hair down to the tips of painted toes, one of which seems intent now into burrowing itself into one of his thighs. "Like I don' know about mos' of it but...I seen some t'ings..."

It's the little things about their flourishing relationship that really make Eddie's day. At first, it had been the cups of coffee she had brought him in the chill of a San Francisco January, and the caring, slightly sad -- and yet never pitying -- smile that accompanied them. From there, it had been the gentle words from her lips, the questions she would ask him... and the way she would titter behind her hand when he offered searing rimshots on people who could afford to be taken down a peg or two. The way she would make eye contact with him and see a person, rather than just a homeless nobody. The caring way she would assemble a meal at the soup kitchen and offer it to him with not even one iota of judgment on her face.

And then, eventually, talking. Conversations that lasted a few minutes... and then a few more. Until one day had come along he'd nearly made her late to work. And so there had been the picnic... a terrified inquiry into her interest in getting to know him better. A hope beyond hope that it might be a first date, even, though he'd been careful, so very careful, not to allow his hopes to rise into the stratosphere like that, and he'd taken every step to be the perfect gentleman. The kind of guy a girl might actually want to get to know better... by being kind, respectful, curious, and above all, courteous.

It's been months since that fateful night. Months, even, since the first time she invited him into her place as shelter from unseasonable weather. Months of building trust and amiability between them... so much care taken in making sure there weren't deeper expectations. She's beautiful, yes, and within the palace of his own mind he can't deny feeling deeply attracted to her, but foremost, he is grateful just for the quality of her company. Of being someone, who saw him as equally someone. And their companionship takes many forms... up to and including him playing video games on her couch -- on her TV, on her gaming console -- while she reads.

It feels odd, that companionable silence -- and her permission to him to abuse the privilege of using her nice things -- should be such a valuable thing to him. And while it's easy for him to become engrossed in his escapism through her television, he never takes it for granted. On the contrary... his payment to her for such luxury is his instant attention when she addresses him. Because that's the only currency he carries in abundance, and it seems to be the currency she values most.

That's why, when her lips part and she speaks his name, he pauses instantly and turns to look at her with an openly curious gaze. "Hm?"

And then the question.

His eyebrows rise at the inquiry. It's out of the blue, or so it seems. He doesn't remember having any conversations regarding taboo subjects like erotica... and thanks to his Other, his recall is augmented to be better than most. But even without it, this is Beth, after all... he's certain he would have remembered talking about sexualized media with his crush.

"Uh." He lets out a small hiccup of breath that could be qualified as an attempted yet aborted laugh. "I mean. It's, uh... it's been a little while. Scrimpin' an' savin' every last dime, it's not like I can hit up the local Blockbuster, right?" He lets out another of those noises, sort of a scoff but without the dismissive quality. "But, I mean... yeah. When I was in better times. Of course it's somethin' I liked sometimes."

He feels himself get a little flustered as he responds. It's easier, though, for him to admit to it as a past activity than a present one... as if she would care? But it matters to him. "An' I'm not really one for guy/guy action. Guy/girl worked just fine. Girl/girl, too, I mean, it's hot."

He chuckles at the idea of roleplay being involved. "Nah, not so much into the monsters an' dragons scene. I kinda... I like the sort of thing where it's just two consentin' people who want each other. An' it could be hot an' fast, or it could be slow an' sensual. I dunno, I guess it doesn't matter, you never watch videos o' that stuff for plot, but actually, videos ran the risk of makin' me laugh. Can't take 'em seriously 'cause you don't see people actin' like that for real. Honestly? Pictures. Artwork. Or even stories written. I was a writer, right? If it's a video, it doesn't last the same way a single frame does, or words on a page. If it's a picture, you can take the time to appreciate everything in it, foreground or background. If it's written, you can read it as many times as you want, but you might read somethin' different each time."

The way her toe digs into his thigh makes him squirm just a little, and he puts a reassuring hand on her ankle as he gazes at her blushing face. A grin appears amidst his stubble. "Y'okay? Feels like that was as hard for you to ask as it was for me to answer."

[anxiouslymalicious]

Losers Club Plus One Part 11

A Richie Tozier x daughter!reader series 

Read the previous part here or go here for the full series masterlist!

A/N: Hiya there! It’s getting serious, we have reached the last hour of the movie! I am actually growing a little sad knowing that this long ass journey is going to end soon, but I also am kind of proud? Anyway, let’s enjoy this. My hometown is being put under lockdown, by the way, so I might feel quite bored quite often and throw out more content!

This part is about 3.2k words, just fyi. I hope you enjoy and, as always, feedback, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated! I hope you enjoy!

“Yeah, no, you’re staying out here.” Richie said as he noticed that his daughter was trying to follow the group. He was fumbling with something in his pockets, trying to find the car keys.

“What? No. There’s no way I’m letting you guys do this on your own.” Y/n replied, crossing her arms before her chest. Her cheeks grew warm with anger.

“There’s no way I’m letting you come with us.” Richie countered; stance equally determined.

“Richie…” Eddie started, only to be interrupted by Richie himself.

“No, don’t ‘Richie’ me. She’s not coming with us. Y/N is staying in the car where it’s safe.”

“Statistically speaking, it would be safer for her to come with us than to stay by herself in the car.” Eddie looked at Y/N, then over to the cars parked beside the street.

“I’ve told you before, it is not safe for us to split up. Y/N doesn’t even know how to drive in case she needs to get away, there is nothing for her to defend herself with once that fucking clown comes out. Staying in the car would literally be a death trap for her.” Eddie tried to argue with Richie who now looked twisted. The rest of the Losers looked on as they watched the heated discussion, not wanting to interfere. Each of them wanted the best and the best only for the littlest Loser, but what really was the best for her in that moment? Their minds travelled back to Stanley, how they saw him on the ground, his version of IT biting at his face, perhaps only mere moments from killing Stan. Did they really want that for Y/N? Did they want to risk that much? However, that first time, no one died. No matter how close. They got out of there once before, who said they couldn’t do that a second time?

“Eat a dick, Eddie.” Richie mumbled before averting his gaze to look at his daughter. The determination in her eyes was uncanny. Richie knew there was no stopping her.

“You won’t ever leave my side. You’ll stay with one of the Losers at all times. If I tell you to run and leave, you will. And don’t try to be a hero down there. And if you feel like anything’s too much for you, tell us and we’re gonna figure something out.”

Y/N nodded along to her father’s rules. She had to bite her lip to keep her tears at bay. Tears of uncertainty. No one knew what was truly ahead of them and there were no guessing games either. The Losers just hoped that at least one of them would see the daylight again.

Mike went back to the car to fetch the few flashlights he had thrown into the car before hurrying to catch up with Bill. He then proceeded to give them out to the Losers Plus One. One after another got their lights. Everyone except for Stanley. But in some way, Stan was still there. Maybe it was just a silly way of grief and remembering for Mike as he, with a heavy heart and deep sigh, gave the last flashlight to Y/N, but it seemed like the girl was Stan’s filler. Like there was a reason she managed to convince Richie to take her with him from LA back to Derry, into the mess they were met with. 

Y/N shivered when she really stepped into the building. It was like every last drop of happiness had been washed away, like she had been drained of her emotions, drained of what made her human. A cold sweat broke out on her skin and she felt her heart hammering painfully against her ribcage. IT could attack them at any given moment. IT could come for them whenever. IT could be right around the corner.

Out in Derry, Y/N had felt like she was running around with a target on her head. She was in a town she didn’t know, surrounded by people she didn’t know. Everyone could have been Pennywise in disguise, as far as she knew. But now, they had entered IT’s home. The place IT knew better than anyone else. The place IT resided and killed children in. The odds of beating IT, whatever IT even was, were slim and Y/N had figured out just that. Basically, all of them were a delicious meal, presenting itself on a plate for IT.

Y/N followed the adult Losers she had grown to trust around the house, staying especially close to Richie. But she couldn’t help but feel like Eddie was keeping an extra close eye on her. Just in case.

Wood creaked below their feet, a low hum echoed through the room with the wind whistling through the cracks and broken windows. Suddenly, a new sound caught her attention. A sound that didn’t fit the picture. A sound that sounded so foreign, it was terrifying. 

“What the fuck?” Y/N breathed out as she took a step back, never having seen anything like that before. But none of the Losers seemed to be weirded out by some black lava randomly seeping out of the wood, followed by a hissing sound of burning wood. Each one of the Losers seemed tense, but a strange sense of calmness accompanied their characters. Y/N felt lost. Because she felt distanced from the Losers. Not so much physically, but more mentally.

“Well, I love what he’s doing with the place.” Richie said as he watched the mass spread.

“Peep-peep, Richie.” Beverly said, voice unimpressed with the humour Richie still tried to bring up, despite the seriousness of the situation. Y/N felt a shiver running down her spine, shaking through her body, as she unconsciously tried to get closer to the Losers. Nothing she saw was right. It wasn’t natural, or so it seemed, and it made her head swim. She felt like she was thrown straight into a horror movie and was made to live there, fight her way through. It was terrifying as she didn’t know what would happen next, where she had to go, but the worst was the unknowingness of the moment, the uncertainty if any of them would ever see the sunlight again. If any of their lungs would ever be filled with the fresh, unused and clean air they were met with outside. If any of them would even be able to breathe still after this night or if they would all lose their lives.

“I’ve got to keep that one in mind. Maybe that’ll shut him up on the flight back home.” Y/N replied, hoping to ease some of her own tension the way her father always does. Successfully so, with the chuckle that escaped Ben’s lips, she did feel a little lighter on her feet. She felt some of the hopelessness melting away. She felt a little warmth in her chest.

Bill walked before the rest of the group. Slowly at first, but he seemed to be impatient, every step he took was quicker than the last. Y/N watched him go, not knowing if what he did was something conscious, something he himself wanted to do, if he knew where to go or if it was IT somehow forcing him. How, she didn’t know, but Y/N was sure IT had more tricks up his clown-costume sleeve than any of them would like to know.

Floorboards creaked beneath their feet. Dust swirled in the air, straining Y/N’s airways. The air was thick with what Y/N felt might be the smell of decay, old blood, maybe even faeces. She had no idea what she had yet to encounter, but the smell that tested her gag reflexes already didn’t give her much hope of a fair game.

For a second, she let her mind wander. She wondered how many people had been taken by IT. How many children had been led to their death with promises meant to be broken and false hopes of things they would never receive? Y/N let her mind wander, far enough to not notice that they had split into two groups, one of them distancing themselves from the other quite rapidly.

Ben suddenly groaned. Throaty, filled with pain. Heads whipped around. Before Y/N was even able to comprehend what was happening, Bev had already called out to him, a worried yell of his name. Something about the way her voice carried itself made her sound like she was already expecting the worst. And she wasn’t wrong with that.

Y/N looked around, head frantically whipping from side to side, only being able to locate Bev, Ben and Mike. Yelling echoed through the abandoned house, she heard Bill yelling for them, she heard Eddie and her father. Fists banging against a door. And she saw Ben sinking to his knees. His hands pressed to his stomach, trying to find a source of pain. Y/N rushed towards Ben, holding onto his right arm alongside Beverly, who felt panic take over as she watched how Ben’s white shirt gained blood red stains.

Somewhere down the hall, Bill was yelling for Ben. Y/N heard their voices clear and loudly and she felt how her feelings were twisted. She felt the need to run to the other Losers, stick with her father and the person who might as well become her stepfather, but she didn’t want to let Ben down. She couldn’t bring herself to leave him to his suffering.

 Mike joined the two women as Ben lowered himself to the ground, screams of agony leaving his lips, shaking the Losers to their core, breaking their hearts and making their stomachs churn. Ben pulled up his shirt, revealing streaks of blood, open wounds as something none of them could see dragged along his stomach, leaving deep cuts.

Bev yelled as Ben watched his stomach being torn apart with wild eyes, too many bad memories, too much fear bubbling up in him. He was reminded of the pure hatred, the insanity in Bowers’ eyes as he cut into Ben’s stomach that one fateful summer, the cuts that pained him so much physically, but even more mentally. The wound that would taunt him until he left the town and far beyond that. A scar that never really let him go.

Y/N cringed as she watched, before she jumped up, looking for the clown in a panicked daze. She didn’t notice how she was running around, looking for something that might give away his location. It happened naturally, her instincts took over. But if there was one thing Y/N knew about the clown by now, it was that it had a preference when it came to attacks. It would use their fears against them. Now she was left to figure out what could scare Ben.

She turned to look at Ben, the carvings on his stomach now read ‘HOME AT LA’, new lines appearing on Ben’s stomach with every second. Y/N’s eyes finally landed on the mirror. She saw their huddled up figures. In her state, she almost didn’t notice the white face added to the group.

“The mirror!” Y/N yelled out as she watched IT happily torture Ben, the words on his stomach being completed as IT was ready to move for the kill. The kill IT had been dreaming of, the thing IT had waited 27 years for. The first out of eight kills that would finally give it the satisfaction and peace IT had craved for years. Ever since those kids came across IT for the first time.

Neither Y/N nor Bev really thought as they acted. Both acted on instinct, taking the first hard object they could find and smashing it against the mirror. It shattered into what looked and felt like a million pieces as the girls tried to shield their faces from the sharp shards flying around the room, whipping around to look at Ben.

The pent up adrenaline left their bodies quickly, a heavy weight being lifted off their chests as they spotted Ben’s now free-of-cuts abdomen and neck. Y/N’s relief, however, was quick to dissipate though, as the screams of the three men that walked ahead reached her ears.

She ran faster than she thought her legs could carry her towards what her ears told her was the source of the screams until she was met with closed doors.

“Dad! DAD!” Y/N yelled as she hammered against the door with her fists. Tears blurred her vision, a sharp pain shooting from her balled fists through her whole arm as she tried to get into the room, trying to get to her father who was screaming for help.

“Richie!” Mike yelled, followed by Ben and Bev as the trio ran after the girl who now threw herself against the door in hopes of getting it to open up. The wood finally gave in. Eddie was standing in a corner. Shaking his head. Face contorted with fear. Bill was screaming. For a knife. Richie was begging for help. A knife. Where? She saw it. Glistening in the low light.

Suddenly, the spider-head trying to kill Richie stopped its movement. Bill looked up in shock. Y/N held the knife tightly in her hands, the blade pushed into the head. Her knuckles were white, fingers laced tightly around the blade like it was the only thing keeping her alive.

In a fit of rage, she pulled the knife out of the head only to ram it back in. Over and over and over again. Five, six, seven times. She wasn’t met with any resistance, nothing to stop her from letting out the anger and frustration and hatred she felt towards the thing that would forever have an impact on her life.

It wasn’t until Ben grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her back that she stopped. If it was up to Y/N, she would have continued to stab the thing until it wasn’t more than a pile of mush on the ground. Despite the nausea and the guilt that filled her, ate away at her. Despite the dirty feeling on her skin as she tried to end a life. Despite the burning in her brain and in her heart, both of them yelling at her to stop. But she couldn’t bring herself to do just that. She couldn’t stop. She couldn’t rest. Not until revenge had been served. Not until justice found its way to make things right again. Even though she knew that things wouldn’t be right again. What she saw wasn’t something to forget. What they had said and done wasn’t something to shrug off.

“Y/N, it’s enough. Richie’s alright.” Ben whispered to the girl in his arms as he pulled her away and tried to push her head in his chest, hoping to shield her sight. From what exactly, Ben wasn’t sure. Maybe he didn’t want to have her see IT get away with what it had done. Maybe he wanted her to just focus on him to calm down. Or maybe he was scared that some of the anger she was able to let out would rebound onto Richie and Ben hoped to prevent that. All he knew was that it felt right to hug his Loser-niece tightly as the rest of the group tried to catch their breath.

“Is everybody okay?” Bev asked as she dropped to her knees beside Richie who was coughing and sputtering with Bill still leaning over him. She pulled off her jacket to wipe whatever the slime was that IT had left on Richie’s face away.

Bill was now the one to feel the rage. Storming towards Eddie, he only had one thing in his mind. Anger burned hot inside his mind and his chest as he pushed Eddie back to the wall.

“He could have f-f-f-fucking died, man. You k-know that, right?” Bill screeched at Eddie, voice coarse with disbelief. Eddie’s gaze travelled from Bill, Big Bill, who now seemed more intimidating than ever, over Richie who was being cared for by Bev, to Y/N, still in Ben’s arms, as he and Mike tried to provide comfort and maybe just the smallest sense of calmness. She was shaking, shivering, as she watched her father, seemingly zoned out with a few stray tears on her cheeks.

“Georgie’s dead. The k-kid’s dead. Stan-Stanley’s dead. Y-you want Richie too?” Bill couldn’t help himself as he screamed, the fear settling in him, he felt intimidated and overwhelmed by the situation he found himself in. None of them wanted to be back there, none of them wanted to face IT again, but Bill was the one who had the hardest time. He was the cause of their misery. He was the cause of Georgie’s death. And Stan’s. And the kid’s. He couldn’t bear the guilt of another Loser, one of the people closest to him, to lose their life for his cause. And especially not the only Loser who had a child of their own to take care of.

As Bill kept screaming the words ‘You want Richie too?’, all Eddie could do was shake his head, eyes not meeting Bill’s as he whispered his reply. “I don’t. I don’t want Richie too. I don’t, I don’t.”

When Bill’s shouting ceased, the room filled with heavy breaths and quiet, the occasional sound of a floorboard creaking as Y/N crawled towards her father, embracing him tightly. Finally, Eddie managed to look at Bill, properly look at him.

“Please don’t be mad, Bill.” Eddie was close to begging as he felt hot tears fill his eyes to the brim, threatening to spill over at any given moment. “I was just scared.”

And at that moment, they all noticed. Eddie’s eyes were still the same. It was Eddie Spaghetti Bill was yelling at. Not Edward Kaspbrak, the successful Risk Analyser. It was Big Bill yelling, not Bill Denbrough, the bestselling author.

“That- that’s what he w-w-wants, right?” Bill asked, realisation dawning in him, the Losers and their Plus One. Y/N watched Eddie and Bill with cold eyes, a broken heart. She almost felt betrayed by Eddie. The man who had told her that he loved her father, had feelings for him in the least, who couldn’t step up and save him when no one else was available. She almost lost the only person who had stayed with her through everything, the man who felt like home. And she couldn’t forget. Hurt was deeply implanted in her chest and in her head as Richie held onto her for dear life.

“Don’t- don’t give it to him.” Bill finished, taking his hands off Eddie who now sobbed, almost not more than a quiet gasp, as he realised that his lack of actions could have led to the death of his love. And it pained him, even more, to know that it had taken him more than 27 years and he still didn’t have the balls to even think of Richie as more than a crush. Deep down, Eddie longed to be in Richie’s warm embrace, he cherished every joke Richie cracked, no matter how insulting, maybe even especially when insulting. Richie made his heart flutter, his palms sweaty. And even the thought of losing Richie to death scared Eddie so much that his body went frigid, ice cold. He froze. He was petrified. But he couldn’t tell. Not Richie, not Y/N. Not now. Not when they both looked at him, disbelief clear in their faces, eyes cold with hatred.

Only, they weren’t. But Eddie didn’t know.

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

Taglist (let me know if you want to be added!) @whereyoustand @bellero @shockwavee @daniellajocelyn @robindoesntloveme @halefirewarrior  @ucy161 @captainshazamerica @catscrochet @gabiatthedisco @strangemaximoff @robynel @the-summer-of-39 @sammy-salamander @majorlyextra @im-justafangirl @bohemiancrue @weebishtae @nobody7102 @creativedogs @sirenjules @littlemaeve @precious-bands-love @darth-dorle @zigabrielle @ggclarissa @bat-shark-repellant @zoemassingale @avengerswon @artlovingbre  @supernovavision @eggytozier​ @eeemmiillyyy @russian-romanova​ @isweareverythingsalright​ @supernatural3002​ @intoomuchfandoms​ @detroitbecomevenom​ @hitoshi-s-stupid-bitch​ @keeley-virgo​ @deviantly-gayy​ @thedragonofgallifrey @sycard​ @sassy-specter​ @psychosupernatural​ @jerkyheree-michaelm3ll @chros-nomsworth @princesskhy @chocolatecakeandme​ @felicityofbakerstreet​ @transparentaliencookiehoagie​ @danas-wonderland​ @paige-howell-lester​ @1800kaspbrak​ @donteatmycookiesplease​ @im-justafangirl​ @finalfemm​ @tozierskaspb​ @afictionaladventure16​ @morgan-macguire​ @niallisworld​ @sp00kymonthenthusiast @blancastans​ @delicately-important-trash​ @blue-paradise-girl @im-a-rocketman​ @emiliesnowflake​ @peachysinnermon​ @whatsupsherl0ck​ @wheezy-kasp-brak​ @ihatemyselfmorethanmydepression @ilovetaquitosmmmm @markiismoo​ @your-not-invisible-to-me​ @oisek-si @itsarandomsparkle​ @queen-fam​ @antivscogirl @fear-epidemic​ @burner-cell​ @cait-elizabeth​ @kind-sober-and-fully-dressed-99 @srtafarrell​ @opalof @x0softxgirl0x @cocastyle​ @themagicianssister​ @adritozier​ @the-almost-perfect-username @edwardspaghedwardtozier​ @attractiveugly​ @cait-scribbles​ @bethanyb1110​ @the-almost-perfect-username @spacelesbianfanclub​ @alisoncdariel​ @pinklyrium​ @leetaemintrashnumber1​ @tozierwheelerwolfhard @stress-and-obsess​ @httpstannie​ @purple-brainstorm​ @bitch-imma-head-out @sleepygal124​ @mellorine-paprika​ @im-an-assho1e​ @vergassdottir @brooke1419​ @shherlxck​ @lauren-novak @increasinglygeeky​ @babyyydalis​ @hotgod-amess​ @queen1054​ @raintoray @frenchiefightingman @70sgubler​ @ccidk​ @baconstripstripper​ @thunderkick44​ @spiralingtoinsanity​ @lcvsbts​ @nerds4life246​

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #441

“all alone, he turns to stone while holding his breath after death  /  terrified of what’s inside, to save his life he crawls like a worm from a bird”

Have you ever watched a movie in class/school that made you cry? Yep, a few. What’s the earliest you could go to bed at night and feel okay about? If I'm having a really bad day, I can tolerate as early as 7:00. :x What is you favorite type of lunch meat? Honey ham, probably. What time of the year do you dislike the most? Summer is disgusting. It's too hot, too humid, too many bugs, and I just hate it. Do you put ketchup on your scrambled eggs? No, that sounds gross. What is your favorite color to wear? b l a c k Are you an overachiever? Oh, hunny. What physical feature do you wish you had (i.e. freckles, curly hair)? Maybe uhhhh big eyes. What fictional character (i.e. Bambi, Scarlette O'hara) would you marry? Darkiplier bc he is merely a misunderstood soft boi. How long have you gone without shaving (girls- legs, armpits; boys- faces)? Legs: It's been nearly a year. Pits: not that long, considering I shave them every time I get in the shower. What is the meanest thing you have ever said to someone else? I'm sure it would be something in one of the letters I sent Jason. Or Dad. Idk. Did you ever go through a phase where you wrote bad poetry? The phase never ended lmao. What is your favorite thing about your life? My loved ones. Save all the animals that die during road kill or save 1 human from a fire? Sorry, but I'm picking the animals. Have you ever painted a picture of somebody? Yes. How many real bfs/gfs have you had? Two. Did you enjoy your past relationships? Yes. Except for when I was with Tyler. Name a comedy that you like. White Chicks. Could you wait until marriage for sex? Yeah. What’s the best Nirvana song? I'm not sure, really... Maybe "Drain You?" What was the last thing that impressed you? No clue. When was the last time you were in a pet store? Several months ago when I went in to get more rats for Venus. What nationality is your last name? Irish. What’s your favorite kind of chips and dip? Plain, rippled Lays in French onion dip. Who was the last boy that you saw cry? I don't know, actually. It may have been Sara's dad, which was years ago. Does your mom know you do surveys? I mean no, it's not like it's come up in conversation. Have you ever had a serious injury? When I was a kid, there was this one time I was running down the road with my friend, and I tripped; I was a fast runner, so I skinned the everliving FUCK out of my knees to the point there was even pus. I was SOBBING, and it took weeks to heal; I had the scars for years. What was the last thing you achieved? Losing weight at the gymmmm. Staying dedicated to going. Would you enjoy being famous? No. I couldn't take all the eyes on me and even ONE person's negative judgment. What’s under your bed? A big box of my art supplies. Do you enjoy travelling? Yeah. I wish I could do it more. Have you ever belonged to a club? If so, what was it? No. When was the last time you drank strawberry milk? Not since I first tried it at elementary school. It was absolutely disgusting. Have you ever managed to collect all the fast food toys in a set? I doubt it. Do you have a clock in your room? No. Did you have a good driver’s ED teacher? No. If I'd listened to him while driving, I could've gotten myself killed while merging onto the highway. People are assholes and didn't want to move over. Which of Britney Spears’ songs is your favorite? Probably "Freakshow." Does mind over matter work for you? Not usually, no. Are you paranoid? Oh yes. What is the best thing about winter? Everything!!! Literally the only BAD thing about winter is the dry skin/lips. I love the cold, Christmas and all that comes with it, the decor, hot chocolate, snow, getting all cuddly... Everything. :') Have you ever been truly in love? Absolutely. Are you currently planning a trip? No. A trip to Illinois is just a wish right now. How many plants are in your home? None, I think? What is your favorite possession? Excluding my pets (because I don't like calling them "possessions"), probably my laptop. Have you ever felt like you were too nice and way too often overlooked? I have before, yes. What movies have tripped you out? Off the top of my head, the only entertainment media in general that has ever truly "tripped me out" was the first time I played the Silent Hill game. The movie didn't affect me to that level because I already understood the concept. When I watched Jason play it for the first time, I was SO confused and just blown away by the concept that I did loads of research and just thinking about it all. That franchise is just cool as shit, okay. Did you rollerblade as a kid? Do you still rollerblade? I LOVED rollerblading. I haven't done it in years, though. Would you ever settle into a relationship that wasn’t right for you? Do you know friends who are in relationships just so they have someone to sleep with at night? NO. I will NOT settle. Being genuinely in love with my partner is too important to me for me to ever do so. I don't know if any of my friends are in that situation. Would you take a dirty picture of yourself for someone you are dating? With my current body? FUCK no. If I was happy with my body, the answer is still probably no. I'm too self-conscious and awkward with that kind of stuff, and besides, I really don't think I want a picture like that to exist of myself to avoid potential trouble. Do you use earplugs or a sleeping mask when you sleep? No. What summertime treats do you love? We have this local slushy place that is FUCKING BOMB. It may sound basic, but they have SUCH a vast variety of flavors and goodies you can top it with that it's truly just so amazing. How picky are you when it comes to choosing who to kiss or not kiss? I am VERY picky. I have to be really interested in you. Save for how things were with Tyler... I just felt like I was supposed to. What do you hate most about moving? I. Hate. The process. Of moving. It is just so, so stressful to me. I have a very hard time confronting big tasks, and that's exactly what packing and unpacking entails. Do you feel that having sex anywhere but a bed is more exciting? Not necessarily. Do you drink 5 hour energy drinks or any other kinds of energy drinks? No. Has anyone ever whistled at you? I don't think so. Do you like scarves? No. Is your father homophobic? Possibly. I don't actually know. I honestly don't think he took Sara's and my relationship seriously, so that may be a sign. Do you take gummy vitamins? The only vitamin I take now is vitamin D, which isn't a gummy. Have you ever applied make-up on a guy, for any reason at all? Ha, yeah. I gave Jason a makeover once. Who would you like to meet before you die? MARK. I am so determined, alsdjfkaj;wek;rj. I just want to hug him and say thank you and ugly-cry. If your dream was to be a model, and a big opportunity came up, but you had to be nude, would you take it? No. Even if I had the body of a model. What’s the most ridiculous conspiracy theory you’ve ever heard of? The fuckin' flat earth theory, probably. If Heaven and Hell exists, where you going when you die? Well, considering I have an, uh, very negative opinion of the Christian god... Who is the person that you are afraid of losing, above everyone else? My mom. The day she passes is a day I am inexplicably horrified of. What is one thing that pisses you off pretty much everyday? My life. If there anyone you know that you feel should consider therapy? My mom really could use it. Do you like any of the songs on Twilight, or the actual movie/saga itself? I love "Supermassive Black Hole" by Muse, but idk if it was actually written for the movie. How old was the first person you kissed? He was 18 when we first kissed. Will you be a strict parent one day? I never want to be a parent. If I hypothetically became one, I don't think I'd be strict, necessarily, but very protective. Last person to stand up for you? Probably Mom, idk. Have you been to a baby shower? Yeah, a few. Who were you with the last time you went to the movie theater? My dad. What’s your favorite high school memory? Just... a lot with Jason. Do you like relationships, or do you prefer to be single? I prefer being in a (healthy) relationship, but I won't get into one just for the sake of having one. What is one adventurous thing you’d be willing to do? Hmmm... scuba-dive, maybe? What subject at school did you absolutely hate? Math. Italian food or Chinese food? Italian. I don't really like (most) Chinese food. Do you like to make flash cards when you study? I rarely did that. Has anyone ever told you that you’re a good singer? Yes, somehow. Do you ever watch TED talks, live or online? No. I dare you to write the name of a person you strongly dislike. Ashley. What do you think about Marilyn Manson? He's one of my favorite musical artists, but he's a disgusting dick personally. Biggest trouble you’ve ever gotten into at school? Nothing, really. I was a very well-behaved kid. Do you own one of those “professional” DSLR cameras? Yeah, I have a Canon. Does it bother you when you see a 6th grader with a bunch of gadgets? No. Did you buy yearbooks every year in high school, or did you not bother? Not every year, but most. Do you have Restless Legs Syndrome? No. Jalapeños: yay or nay? I loooove them. Did you ever play Minecraft? Nah. My niece is getting into it. Did you ever have a Club Penguin account? Were you a member? I did have one. I wasn't one of those premium members or anything like that; I just had a basic account. Do you know anyone that seems to not have any common sense? Bitch me. It's extremely embarrassing. I 100% got it from my dad. What do you think is the biggest injustice that was ever done to you? The manner through which Jason broke up with me. It left me traumatized. What type of person angers you the most? Abusive people that think only they matter and have no consideration for how their actions affect other people. If you could change your appearance, how would you alter it? I'd lose a shitload of weight, for one. My teeth would be whiter, my eyes bigger and bluer, I'd want my hair colored/able to hold color far better, I'd lighten and lessen my body hair, make my skin clearer, thin my eyebrows... I'd change a lot. What are your feelings on feminism? MANDATORY. Absolutely necessary in a misogynistic society. However, I do believe some people take it way too far to a point it is anti-man and puts women on a holy pedestal. It is about equality. Describe your first relationship? Perfect, until it wasn't. Describe your last relationship? Wonderful and healthy, but distance and our health were issues at the time. Can you honestly say that you always practice safe sex? My history with sex is confusing and complicated and I really don't know. Why do you think your most favorite film touches you so deeply? Thinking about it... it's probably because of how Simba runs from his problems and bad memories, but returns to confront them and is victorious. That's how I want to be. What do you want people you meet for the first time to think about you? That I'm nice and clearly sincerely cared about them and their feelings. Do you feel protective over someone? My sisters, nieces and nephews, Sara... What perfume/cologne do you wear? It's called "Blush." Where did your vehicle come from? I don't have my own, but Mom's came from a girl at the dance studio. She ran into a deer, and the front got fucked up, but the sweetheart paid to fix it up to being operable so Mom had her own car. The front bumper is kept intact with zip ties and duct tape, but hey... it works and has for many, many years now, lol. What was the color of the bridesmaid dresses of the last wedding you went to? Ummmm... I actually don't remember. What is your favorite way to eat chicken? As tenders, probably. It is your birthday. You hope the cake is: Red velvet. This year for my bday, our controlling-as-fuck family friend bought me my birthday cake without consulting ANYBODY, and I was so fucking annoyed. It was a very kind gesture, yes, but um, can I have a say, please? What do you wear to bed? Usually men's pj pants and a tank top. What were you doing at 8pm last night? Sleeping, actually. I was extremely tired and went to bed early.