#especially bc i LOVE the idea of like 'retractable masks'

[senorscotty]

ah hi! this is trackingthehuntress - you're reading huntress 1989? what do you think? :D always jazzed to hear someone getting into more helena <3

hi!! god there was SO MUCH in this volume. like it did shock me at first that helena’s origin story in this is much darker compared to what she has in cry for blood (which is what i had been using as my main understanding of helena), and i think it further fuels this push and pull of who the mask REALLY IS and what it’s hiding, and whom from which is so fascinating. (especially bc the last character i did a deep dive on was donna troy - who has these identity crises WITHOUT a mask metaphorically or literally existing wrt her persona) she sees huntress as a version of her with more courage not only to deal with her personal traumas but to also to reach out a hand to others instead of retracting it in fear of further pain. digging figurative claws into herself to find the courage to remain tender, which makes me 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫.

also, i love that she finds a therapist LOL. characters that are deeply introspective about their own behaviors that drive them to vigilantism even after their initial goals of donning the mask are kinda met!! >>>> and it also makes it make sense when she decides to temp. step away from this life with james at the end of the volume.

plus it’s interesting to see her idea of vigilantism and what it means to enact justice, considering her mafia background. she goes about her vigilante behavior with less consideration of the law itself, but rather what it means to be an upstander - > protector of her community. although she’s divorced from the mafia, as she’s much older in this run i’ld assume she’s seen the ins (and bts) of organized crime from afar. and so i think she understands how systematic crime+violence can be between different organizations from a unique pov. and i do think the volume makes use of that - we see how journalism/news orgs., police dept., criminal ops., (it did remind me of the wire at one point) can all be intertwined. (which makes her later taking up a teacher gig for her civilian identity make more sense) however, there are aspects, plot points, etc. that didn’t sit right with me and imo it’s important to note how her economic class potentially impacts her sense of justice which all becomes a larger convo.

much to marinate on! def going to go back and reread the entire volume much slower cause i did speed through and make my thoughts more cohesive rather than word vomiting them, so expect more helena posting!

[alichiraku]

Ninja masks are weird and I think I found my favorite solution.

We know that this exists :

Assuming that the Kazekage is wearing the same piece of clothing in both instances, it would mean that ninja turtlenecks are simply made from an exceptionally stretchy material, light enough to allow for comfortable breathing, but still sufficiently elastic that it can be raised/lowered at different levels of the face without falling down. 

What I mean is that they’re all wearing the same thing :

Obito also wears something similar with his Tobi outfit, but I have difficulty making sense of it :

[judesstfrancis]

the new halloween movie is coming out soon so I have to give my rant on horror sequels please ignore me if u have to but if u do just know that I am correct here

(disclaimer that I do genuinely like the movies I'm talking about and obviously none of what I'm saying takes away from the cultural impact they've had etc etc I'm just making an observation here okay cool)

horror is like. widely regarded as the cheapest and easiest kind of movie to make, which I would like to argue against on more than a few points, but the fact is that it's unfortunately kind of true to an extent. now no form of writing is easy and the sfx work that goes into a lot of movies from the genre isn't cheap, but in general a lot of people aspiring to be screenwriters start off in horror bc they think it's the easiest point with the lowest budget. u get some fake blood, u get a retractable plastic knife, u hire two or three main protagonists, one antagonist (two if it's your sequel), and a couple extras for the background shots and hey u got yourself a movie.

that's a completely mockery of all the hard work that goes into making a horror film, but it's exactly what does happen in a lot of cases. and a some of them tank, hard, and that happens in every genre, but bc horror is the easiest genre to get your foot in the door with (largely due to the fact that most horror is incorrectly seen as "lowbrow" entertainment by greater hollywood, but that's a ted talk for another time), they're in greater number and more widely known when they're from the horror genre.

but others, the ones u know most intimately, like halloween and friday the 13th, are easily recognized as classics of the genre. people love them, and with good reason. they're good

I swear this all has something to do with what I'm saying about horror movie sequels just bear with me please

most horror classics were intended to be one shots, or if they weren't they were intended to have a different running storyline. the halloween franchise is called halloween bc it was originally supposed to be an anthology of different scary stories that occurred during halloween. hellraiser wasn't supposed to have such a heavy focus on the cenobites at all; they were tangential to the larger story, and in fact the focus was supposed to be on frank, the human man, trying to control powers that were never his to mess with and failing horribly (but again, that's a ted talk for another time)

but both franchises easily achieved cult status, as we're all aware, and bc production companies have no idea what to do when their films get successful, their plans changed. audiences loved michael meyers, people thought pinhead was fascinating, and instead of an anthology series full of one shots (in halloween's case) or a simple one-and-done (hellraiser), we got back to back (to back to back) movies about michael meyers and suddenly the cenobites were the main antagonists, something they were never presented as in the original movie (angels to some, demons to others, this is a whole other tangent)

this phenomenon of churning out sequel after sequel after sequel is almost nonexistent in any other genre. even when it does exist, there's one crucial difference: the stories from movie to movie are usually different, and there's not nearly as many. a trilogy vs an 8 movie long series is vastly different, especially when that trilogy focuses on a different story every time.

this isn't to say that those other sequels are any good, there's plenty of cases where they're just as bad, but they are, at least, different. there's at least a fresh perspective instead of your antagonist coming back from the dead every 2 years and wreaking the same exact havoc on humanity

believe it or not, this ties right back into my original point. the reason there are so many halloween movies, and the reason there are so many nightmare on elm street movies and friday the 13th movies, is bc horror is so widely regarded as cheap and easy. we've all heard stories about how michael meyers' costume was a cheap william shatner mask turned inside out and spray painted white.

it was a prime example of why u don't need a huge budget to make your movie work but it is also, sadly, something that plays into this idea that horror isn't worth anything bc u don't have to work as hard. a point that is tragically further corroborated when u consider the effort put into the sequels.

but see the reason the various halloween sequels weren't received as well as the originals, or may have felt stale or "cheaply made," wasn't bc they didn't sink enough money into it. it was bc they wrote bad movies. bc they were capitalizing on a cultural phenomenon and instead of honing in on what made their original movie so good and evolving from that point, they stagnated. they just kept writing the same movie over and over again.

there's a reason season of the witch is widely regarded as the best halloween sequel, to the point where it's usually the first one people mention when they mention the sequels at all, and that's bc it was a different story. it played off the original, yes, but it wasn't about the same thing the original was, not like the various other sequels.

when u get into the latest halloween sequel, and the one coming out later this year, it's still the same story it was when it came out in the late 70s. it feels like one big, long, extended edition story. there's nothing new, nothing different.

horror movies aren't inherently cheap or easy to write or lazy cinema. but this slew of sequels makes it seem like it is. if there's one thing good creators know how to do, it's how to make something incredible on a budget. and the original halloween was made by good creators. maybe it was more cheaply made than other films, but it was a genuinely good story. even if u personally didn't like it, u have to admit that it was really good to enough people that it made a huge impact.

the others, however, had a considerably larger budget. and they're worse.

but the first one was small. low budget, killer script, great creators, amazing film.

then we go to high budget, relying on cult status, only interested in money, lazy script for multiple sequels that are not at all in line with the original intent of the franchise, bad movie.

and see, people connect these dots and say that horror is lazy, cheap, and bad. but when u really look into it, sure there's some stinkers that are made with very low budgets, but that's not on the budget. bc clearly the budget doesn't matter, and that's been proven. it's true, a lot of these classic horror films, at their first inception, didn't have very large budgets to work with. but their sequels did. and their sequels are what ran them into the ground, in the public perception

bc the writing in the sequels is lazy. the intent isn't to write a good story anymore, it's to make money. bc the original was so successful, on such a small budget, that now suddenly they have all this money and they want to make more.

but the thing is people never liked your story for the antagonist in the first place. yes, michael meyers a good antagonist, yes, mrs vorhees was a good antagonist. but they were only ever good antagonists in the first place bc u made a genuinely good story.

and that's what the audience wants. a good story.

[loomisjones]

Our Secrets Out

Summary(REQUEST):  

Pairing: FP X reader

Warnings: explicit sexual content, rushed sex, near physical assault (Chucks an ass,) cheating, FP AND CHERYL ARE ASSHOLES BUT THEYRE ACTUALLY MY FAV IRL IT JUST FIT THE STORY SO DONT TAKE OFFENCE BC THEY'RE MY BABIES, angst

Word count: 1943 A/N: i really dont know how i feel about this. like really, really dont know how i feel. i might make a part 2 just to redeem myself MAYBE. also the reader doesn't come out and splay her love to FP just because it felt kinda immature and unnecessary for the story but it kinda hints at feelings

Your back slid with ease against the off tinted blue bathroom stalls wall, the sweat pooling between the wall and your skin acting as an aid to move you with ease.

 FP sucked at your breast greedily, toying with the nipple as his hand around your waist was the only thing keeping you from falling to the dingy drive ins bathroom floor. That and his three fingers pumping knuckles deep in your pussy.

 You gasped and groaned, rocking against one another and his fingers pumped and your hands stroked the spance of his shaft, your moans mingling in with the cinematic scream outside, trying to get each other off as soon as possible.

 Before you had met FP, foreplay was one of your favourite things about sex. The adrenaline, the blood pumping through your ears as you explore someone’s body, your body getting hot as someone teased you with their mouth. But since meeting FP and diving into your after hour adventures, you hadn’t thought much about the act. Sure, you and FP had done some foreplay, a rough tug on the cock and quick oral, but it always was just that-quick. By the time you and FP found one another at the end of the day, you two were always looking to blow off steam in the quickest way possible; him buried deep in you, so you were happy to throw away any unnecessary hurdles.

 “Goddamit FP, enough,” you whine, stopping your rock on his fingers, “i’m ready.”

 He nods a bit, strands of hair coming out of his slicked back doo to waterfall over his forehead. He uses his hold on you to lift you up a bit, removing his fingers with a slick sound and an emptiness left in you, making you whimper and scratch at the hair at the nape of his neck.

 You brace your hands against his clothe cladded shoulders as he lowers you down on his throbbing beat red cock, his name falling from your lips though it’s quickly shushed with the sloppy press of his lips against yours, the taste of sweat and beer tingling against your lips.

 You tighten your knees against his hips, a groan falling simultaneously from both of you as he pushes you down on his cock, filling you, the feeling just as satisfyingly painful as it has had been since you started your sexcapade a few weeks ago.

 You shift your hips once his balls are pressed against your ass, your walls fluttering around his cock to pull a strangled “fuck” from the man.

 He uses his hold around your waist to drag you forward as he jerks his hips, the thrust needy and demanding, driving into you hard and fast, the sound of his balls slapping against your skin echoing in the room, loud enough to mask even the movie playing outside, the sound only a distant buzzing as FP moved his hips in a punishing rhythm, the sound of his panting the only other distinguishable sound keen to your ears.

 “Fuck, y/n, ‘m so close,” he grunted, his pelvis stuttering for a moment although he pulls himself back together to carry on his ruthless manner.

 His pelvic bone squashes against your clit as he pulls you forward once more, hit cock buried to the roof as he pulls you back down.

 Your own orgasm was sudden and hurried- one minute you were thinking about the drag of FPs cock against your walls and the next your own orgasm was screaming through your, your head tingling as it knocks against the wall, getting pulled down into euphoric bliss.

 FP brought a hand up to the back of your head as is laid against the wall, his thrusts frantic as he pulled your head up and his lips to yours, kissing you until your lungs started to burn, breathing becoming hard.

 Once he rocked through his own orgasm, sporadic thrusts as he pumped you full, he brought his finger down from your waist to your hip, tapping against the bare skin until you got the idea and hopped down, a feeling of pins rushing through your sexed out legs which you hadn’t noticed were asleep until you were left to stand on your own, wobbling a bit as you struggled to pull your pants on.

 You two shuffled around each other, pulling yourself back together quietly once you two got what you needed from one another, nothing more needing to be said past your sexual in devours.

 “I’ll call ya later,” he mumbled, straightening his jacket as he gave you one last over the shoulder glance as he pulled the stall door open, closing it behind him.

 You knew that call would come in a lust filled “come over” or a sporadic after 10 “are you up” and as you heard his boots grit against the gravel in the Twilight Drive-In’s parking lot, getting further from you, you tried your hardest to ignore the clenching of your heart.

 ~

 “Ya know what, Cheryl, let it go.” You hadn't wanted to come to Jughead’s “party” in the first place, let alone stand around and let Riverdales head bitch in charge rip everyone into shreds. Not that you didn't like Jughead, it was that you didn't like parties, especially those that were ran by Northsiders even if you had the same heritage in your blood. It just isn't your scene.

 What also isn't your scene is letting Cheryl humiliate Archie in front of the whole room just for the fact of who he sleeps with, something you knew all too well. So maybe it was the similarity and sympathy you felt for Archie or maybe it was the fact that for all of eighteen years, you had been watching Cheryl scrutinize everyone and you were sick of it, seeing that no one else was going to stand up to the fire Vixen.

 You push yourself off of the stairs railing that you had been leaning on, the path clearing to allow you to walk to the center of the room until you were face-to-face with the fuzzy jacket wearing redhead, Chuck heaving over your shoulder.

“I don't know how much the princess would like her family's, extracurriculars, blasted over town, so let it go.” Even though you grew up on the Northside with people who lived under the blanket of security and blindness to what really goes on under the maple trees of Riverdale, you knew otherwise. You saw things, things specifically pointing back to Clifford Blossom and his drug cartel he decided to pick up.

“Oh yes, y/n,” Cheryl twirls on her lifted heels to face you as you approached, her signature all too sweet smile spreading across her painted red lips as you crowd one anothers space, “dont think I don't know your sins either you middle class twit.”

You raise your eyebrows in an inviting manner, shaking your head a bit as you can't imagine the red lipstick wearing bee could have on you.

“”You and Mr.Dilf Daddy Jones,” her eyes shift to the corner of the room in which FP had been clustered in to, looking completely out of place in the whole situation.

He locks his jaw as his teeth grind, bunching his fists in his pockets to stop himself from stopping the high school girl and what she was about to spill to the whole room, but most importantly, Jughead whose interest was peaked at the mention of his already strained dad.

“How was the movie?” She giggles as if she's just told the world's funniest joke, leaning forward on her toes to push herself closer to your face, able to smell her mint toothpaste as she spit out, “that's right, you two were too busy sweating one out in the girls bathroom.”

She retracts once more, shrugging a bit as a tight lip smile returned to her face, “maybe use the family bathroom next time. Those doors lock.”

You contemplated letting it go, letting her tear you apart just like she did everyone else of Riverdale, but then you saw Jughead. The look of his pain and hurt, and betray fueled your power as you connected your palm to Cheryl’s blush covered cheek, making her double over as the sound of flesh against flesh echoed throughout the room, causing the room to fall silent; someone had stood up to Cheryl and that was something to make everyone shocked.

Cheryl rises back up, a hand over the place you had just connected to seconds ago. She had a look on her face that could kill as her gaze shifted to Chuck, words passin through her gaze.

You turn around to face Chuck only to catch a blur, leaning to the side out of reflex as you just miss the swing of Chuck’s right hook, wind against your cheek.

Everyone comes to the center of the room in a blop, FP the first to stand out as he put himself between you and the younger boy. Everyone followed like a swarm of nats after them, watching as P shooed Chuck away from the scene and then everyone else, announcing the end of the party. You tried to blend in with the cluster as you scrambled down the stairs, keeping your head low as you caught sight of a fumed Jughead huffing back into the house, moving in opposite directions as you managed to avoid being acknowledged by him.

“Are you alright?” You were sure you were going to manage to leave without confronting FP and the hurt you knew would come from the confrontation, but when his comforting, but huffed voice sounded behind you, you stopped in your tracks with your back staying to him.

You nod a bit until you turn around, facing the open mouth red in the face man, choking out a simple “thanks.”

You clear your throat, raising into a more confident tone as you shift on your weight, keeping your head titled low, “are you okay?”

He laughs a bit as he shakes his own head up and down, brining a hand up to thrust through his locks, “am i alright? Yeah, y/n, im alright besides the fact that my son, who already hated his old man as is, is cheating on his mom.” He stomps his foot on the ground, making you take a step back as you pull your bottom lip between your teeth. You knew the wife talk was going to come up at some point- he kept it on as he fucked you, for god sake.

“We can figure it out,” you manage to spit out before he interrupts you with wide eyes like you just told him the earth was flat,

“Figure it out? We? There's no we, y/n.” He shakes his head at you as if you were an ignorant child telling him the dumbest thing he'd ever heard.

You felt your heart break under your skin, jagged pieces splintering as your knees wobbled and your eyesight started to get blurry, your voice cracking as you spoke “Okay, FP.”

You stumbled back on feet that you didn't trust as they felt like jelly, stepping back from FP and the feelings you so desperately wanted to be reciprocated. FP had a slight twing in his face, looking like he wanted to reach out to you but instead he huffed and whipped his car keys in his hands, striding to his truck with fury, Your first tear falling as you turn on your feet to carry yourself the furthest you can get from FP, from Cheryl, from everything that ripped your world in half.