#he’s so corny it makes me suicidal

[b3achysurfer]

bros about to tell us about how atoms are formed 🤦‍♀️ BOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! 🍅🍅🍅👎👎

[cryobabyy]

Cooper Adams x Fem!Reader

PART(3/5)

He was peculiarly clean— too clean to be at a hardware store past midnight. No dirt on his jeans, or janitor's name patch, or construction vest. He smelt like most men— Irish spring, sandalwood, musk, bergamot, etc. In daylight hours, you wouldn't have thought anything about his tight and fawning smile, the gallon of industrial cleaning solution, and the seven yards of vinyl tarp he slides across the counter at the end of the month. He always smiles when he pays. You smile back despite your intuition advising against it. Something about the interaction feels cold. God, you sound like your fucking father.

OR

You work the graveyard shift at a hardware store with extended hours to put you through pre-med. You meet a DILF who is definitely not The Butcher.

AN: Sorry for the wait on this chapter. I had a final, saw Trap again (I almost died), and then I kind of re-wrote like half of it lol, but here we are! Enjoy!

The last time you talked about your Father to anyone was when you discussed what his headstone would say with the Funeral home office lady. You hadn’t uttered a word about him since. Not to a therapist, not to a friend, not even your roommate. You used his life insurance policy to hire an estate clean-up company to empty the house, and you watched from the curb as men in hazmat suits brought out pile after pile of newspaper clippings, empty medication bottles, and old electronics. After that, the house was unrecognizable- an empty shell, save for the marks on the door of your childhood bedroom. Thin pencil lines climb toward the frame with your name, date, and height nestled next to each other. You threw the deed to the house and your keys in your car’s glove compartment, but you haven’t been inside since. If it was out of sight, it was out of mind. If you didn’t talk about it, it couldn’t hurt you.

A floodgate was opened that night the truth came flying out of your mouth. You were okay with never speaking about it again, but now you couldn’t stop. It was exhilarating to release even the tiniest fraction of what you had bottled up for two years, and Cooper's validation was intoxicating. It was so different than the suffocating sympathy and condolences from Dad’s neighbors, who watched from their porches as you struggled to talk him out of confronting the mailman about wiretapping his mailbox. You felt the stares in line at the grocery store. You heard the passing whispers about the suicide on Bleaker Ave. This town wouldn’t let you forget that you were tethered to tragedy.

Cooper was the first person to say something other than ‘Poor thing. What a shame’. A random man you barely knew was the first person to afford you the luxury of dignity. You weren’t aware you could be anything other than a victim until Cooper Adams started treating you like a normal person. Against your better judgment, you began to look forward to the smiles, corny jokes, and his tendency to overshare. 

You knew it was weird and wrong to befriend a married man like this. You couldn’t help but think about his wife, how she would feel if she knew her husband was using his lunch breaks to bring you food and ask about your day. The thought of his family used to be a comforting reminder that he wasn’t dangerous, but now it makes your stomach hurt. You tell yourself you aren’t doing anything wrong. It was just an unlikely friendship- nothing more. 

You get butterflies when he comes waltzing in with a muffin and a coffee.

Goddamit.

“Oat milk, three sugars, three creams. And somebody dropped these off for the guys today, so I snagged you one. It’s blueberry. Did you eat dinner today?” He sets down a steaming cup of coffee and a neatly saran-wrapped muffin. You meet his hazel eyes, and he stares back. For a moment, you’re not sure what to say. Cooper furrows his brow, a smirk curling his lips.

“What? Don’t tell me you don’t like blueberry.”

“You’re weird.” You scoff, unwrapping the confection and taking a bite.

“So you do like blueberry.” He mumbles pensively,  crossing his arms and leaning against the counter.

“You know I’m at work, right? Like I’m supposed to be working?” You say through a mouthful of muffin. Cooper glances around the empty store before landing on you.

“Looks like I’m the only paying customer here, kid.” A sly smile spreads across his face, and your heart stutters like the engine of your shitty car. 

And just like that, he lulls you into another conversation. Cooper speaks in a way that makes you forget you’re telling him details about your life you’ve never told anyone before. He knows that you have a roommate you barely speak to and that you moved out when you were twenty. He's aware of how you took care of your Father during those final years and how he secretly stopped taking his medication. He knows about the guilt that consumed you for never noticing, for being too busy trying to build a life outside his chaos. You even told him you sometimes visit the house to check the mail. You'd sit on the curb across the street just to stare and remember when it was just a house and not a landmark for your grief.

“Why don’t you just sell it and use the money to buy your own place? The property value has probably skyrocketed since.” At this point in the conversation, Cooper has a stool pulled up to the counter, brows knitted together in concentration. He’s always asking you questions nobody’s ever cared to ask.

“I don’t know. I guess… If I get rid of it, it feels like I’m getting rid of him. He accused me of that all the time. He was convinced I turned against him.” You shrug, swirling around the last bit of coffee in your cup.

“I get it. My independence was like an insult to my mother. She hated my wife—said that she was taking me away from her. I’ll never forget the look on her face when I told her we were getting married.” He looks off into the distance as if he’s watching the memory unfold in front of him.

You see an opportunity, so you take it.

“How did you two meet?” You say slowly, cautiously testing the waters.

“Me and Rachel? I did a fire safety demo for the kids at the school where she was working. God, that was—what? Fifteen years ago? Things were so different then.” He trails off. There was something different in the timber of his voice—regret? You hold in a breath as he continues.

“A lot changes when you have kids. Years can pass, and you won’t notice how much you’ve grown apart. And then pretty soon, the kids are the only thing you have in common.” He stares for a moment longer before suddenly snapping out of his daze. 

“Sorry, am I oversharing?” He drags a big hand down his tired face, and you roll your eyes.

“I mean, I’m the one with the dead dad, so I think I have you one-upped on that.”

“You got me there.” He chuckles. You’re glad he’s not bothered by your inherent morbidity. It makes you feel normal.

There’s a thick pause. You glance upward to find Cooper staring at you, a strange expression on his face. No one’s ever looked at you like that before, and for a split second, you feel exposed. Like it was his first time really seeing you.

“What?”

“I just hope you know you’ll be okay.” 

You’re gearing up to brush it off with something witty, but Cooper beats you to it.

“No, seriously. You made it to the other side of all this— you made it out. And you’re still good. You didn’t turn it into something worse. You’re incredible—and I mean that. It’s inspiring.”

There’s no charming smile or trace of playfulness in his voice. You feel frozen, unsure of what to say or how to proceed. 

And then his gaze flickers to your mouth and lingers there for a moment too long. You watch him watch you, chest rising and falling, his expression tight. Like he’s holding something back. Your hands tingle with the desire to touch something. You feel the urge to reach out and grab something of his– his hand, the lapels of his jacket, the slope of his neck - and pull him into you. It still wouldn’t be close enough. If you could reach into his chest and hold his beating heart in your palm, you would.

And that terrifies you. 

Cooper clears his throat, swiftly standing from the stool. 

“Well, would you ook at that— lost track of time. I have to head back.” He mumbles, patting his jacket pockets to find his keys. Before you can even respond, he’s striding towards the door.

“Right. See you later, Cooper.” You busy yourself by throwing the empty coffee cup and the remains of the muffin in the trash.

He calls your name, snapping your attention to him again.

“You’ll be okay.” He repeats.

“I know.” 

You smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes.

You don’t see Cooper for an entire month after that. The entirety of October passes. You spend nights preparing for your midterm and ringing up PVC pipes, hammers, and plumbing snakes. You debate texting him, going back and forth between writing a paragraph apologizing for potentially crossing a line or a paragraph telling him off for disappearing. Both options never make it out of the notes app.

A definitive emotion hasn’t settled in your mind yet. Anger doesn’t feel justified. Rejection feels too assuming, and dejection hurts your pride. Every fleeting emotion feels blown out of proportion, so you try to feel nothing at all– because anything else would be fucking ridiculous.

Cooper was married. He had children. He had a life. And all you had were the moments of his spare time in between. You had nothing. You didn’t even have a reason to call him– until you did.

On the way home from the night shift, your car battery dies on a dark and empty backroad. Other than your roommate, you have only one other person to call.

Your finger hovers over the call button as you consider what you'll do if he doesn’t answer. Your racing heart makes your thumb shake.

It rings two times before he picks up.

After a month of radio silence, he pulls up in 30 minutes.

Seeing him exit the driver’s side door like nothing had changed is odd. The complicated feelings you’ve been fending off die in an instant and leave you feeling numb. He looked the same; maybe his hair was longer, just long enough for him to push behind his ears. When he walks toward you, you finally begin to feel something again– panic. Inside your mind, you’re frantically flipping through appropriate things to say. I missed you. Where the fuck have you been? Why?

He’s standing in front of you before you can decide.

“You alright?” He asks, his brow furrowed with concern. He looks to your old beat-up car, then to you.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s been stalling recently. I should have gotten it checked out sooner. Thanks for coming. I hate to bother you like this.” You can’t help but sound embarrassed. You had built this moment up in your imagination to be a staunch confrontation, but reality made you feel dumb. This was a grown man that had grown man shit to do other than play therapist with you. You felt small next to him like this. You regret not calling your roommate first.

“I’m happy to help. It’s cold—why don’t you wait in my car? It’s open.”

You wordlessly hand him your keys, grab your bag, and walk towards his car, leaning against the front hood instead. It was stupid, but the small act of defiance made you feel like you were still in control of the situation and, therefore, your feelings. Cooper takes a long look under the hood of your car before leaning into the driver's side and cranking the keys. The ignition clicks and whines but refuses to start. He sighs, trying a couple more times before shutting your car door and locking it.

“I brought jumping cables, but I don’t think I can do much to get it started. It could be more than your battery so It’s probably best to tow it. You’ll have to call your insurance and tell them to get it covered, but I can do the talking if you- ” 

For a moment, you’re possessed by the most jaded version of yourself. The words tumble from your mouth before you can understand them.

“Where have you been?” 

You regret it immediately.

Cooper sighs, closing his eyes and pushing his hair back. He pauses momentarily, thinking about how he'll handle the situation before returning to meet your gaze.

“I don’t think talking about that here is a good idea.” His tone is gentle but stern. It’s parentish and ignites the anger accumulating in you over the past month.

“That’s fucked up, Cooper. I’ve told you things I haven’t even said out loud, and now you get to decide when it is or isn’t a good idea for us to talk? It’s not fair—” 

“I know.”

“—It wasn’t even my idea! You softened me up! You kept coming back—“

“I know.”

“—You made me think I could trust you! You gave me something, and then you fucking took it away—who fucking does that?!”

He’s saying your name now. You were too worked up to notice that your cheeks were wet or that Cooper’s thumbs were wiping the tears away. You hadn’t cried in a year.

“It was wrong. I was wrong. I thought I could manage, but it was getting too close. What was happening between us, and who I am outside of that can never touch. I’m sorry.”

Your breathing slows. Cooper’s voice sounds distant, the warmth of his hands being the only thing grounding you. He’s so close now; you can see the flecks of green and brown along his iris. Your gaze drops to his mouth, lingering in the same way his eye lingered about a month ago. You can see the words forming around his lips. He repeats himself.

“I’m sorry.”

You feel a familiar urge again– the pull. This time, you almost give in. But something stops you. Cooper resists your pull.

“Don’t. You’ll regret it.” He warns.

You come to your senses, noticing the stinging sensation from the back of your thighs pressing against the hood of his car. It’s not enough to stop you from being at your weakest. 

“Please.” is all you can say. Your hands grip the collar of his sweater. He lets you, his resistance gradually softening until your mouth ghosts over his. 

“You have no idea what you’re asking for.” His voice is barely above a whisper.

It all happens so fast, his lips finally covering yours, his hands lifting you by the thighs and setting you down on the hood of his truck, your legs wrapping around him. Everything is brand new and intoxicating. The feeling of his hair between your fingers. Your arms around his neck, the hardness of his body against yours. It doesn’t take much for you to get lost in it. You feel Cooper lift you off the hood and walk around the side of his car. He flings open the passenger door and sets you on the leather seat.

“Tell me to stop.” He says in between the feverish back and forth of your lips, his hands sliding under your sweater to rest on the curve of your stomach. Heat pools between your thighs. You say nothing.

Cooper pulls away, leaving his hand underneath your shirt.

“This is what you want?” He’s looking down at you, hair in his eyes and mouth red and wet. You feel ashamed, but you nod anyway. Cooper’s hand gently pushes against your belly, beckoning you to lie down. Your chest heaves up and down, and your eyes flutter close. Cooper’s hands push up the sides of your waist, bringing your shirt with it. They travel over your ribs, his thumbs brush over your nipples through your thin bra. His warm breath ghosts just under your navel, lips peppering kisses right above your waistband. 

“I’ve been thinking about this. What you would look like under me. You look so pretty.” He smirks against your skin and uses a hand to undo a button on your jeans. Your eyes flutter back open.

The first thing you see is a splatter of dark red on the cloth ceiling of his car. You squint a bit, trying to pull your focus from what was going on below your waist. The little drops glisten in the dim glow of the interior cabin light. It looks wet.

Your blood runs cold. Your Father’s voice returns to you.

White picket fence motherfucker.

AO3

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[m1ssunderstanding]

Let it Be Close-watch

Paul, sweety, it's beautiful, but it's killing the vibe.

Ringo looks like a very old, very tired lab rat whose been put through the maze a few too many times

Somehow the air-brown mostly eaten apple is very appropriate.

She looks far too sweet here to ever let John down. Yoko has very kind eyes.

I love how it makes it seem like Paul and John are calling Maxwell “the corny one” but really we know from Get Back that they're talking about a particular arrangement they were trying out for Don't Let me Down.

I swear he's saying “John” there, not “Joan” and also he said “came down upon His head” so… Oh! And Max died in the end in this version? “Sure that Max was dead” Okay. So Paul kills John and then himself. Murder suicide story. Yeah, Paul, you're doing great mentally, we can all tell.

I love how George getting electrocuted was important enough to make the cut for both films. Poor baby. “If this boy dies you're gonna cop it” from the guy who was just singing about a serial killer.

They're so silly

Yoko does not agree with me

Paul: stealing your man, sweetheart. John: oh no I'm being stolen teehee!

They're so silly

Oh wait, were those bitchy looks at George??? Because there he is. Idk could easily be him or Yoko.

this poor autistic baby trying to use words (not his language) to explain music (his language)

“Good MoOornin! Wooah!” I think I just … You know how Mike said people were booing Paul in the theater watching this? Yeah it's because they were pissed he didn't step out of the screen and onto their necks.

Oh Michael put himself in his own movie too? Huh, cool.

They are always in my heart

The way Paul says “get on the mic” to John??? I would've thrown something, that was so fucking bossy! Just his tone and his face and his angry pointing fingers. So mean. And John just goes “okaaay”. Oof.

Ringo covering his eyes like a little kid watching a scary movie during the orange sweater fight. Same, babe.

Sounds like the original lyric John's going for is something long “All I want is you. Nothing else is gonna do.” But that obviously didn't fit with the tune. I wonder if there was a particular conversation with Paul being controlling that made the “everything has got to be the way you want it to” line click in.

Oh my gosh! So George is showing I Me Mine to Ringo and Paul and he says the “I don't give a fuck it can go in musical” line before he even plays it. Not after John's making fun of him like he does in Get Back. Nagra reels experts: which one is correct??

George: it's a heavy waltz. Ringo:*claps hands angrily and punches the air to a ¾ beat. I love him, he's like the core of “Beatle humor” to me.

Woah there! Okay this is the John/Yoko pda Peter Jackson cut, I see. I wonder if there's a lot more footage of them swapping spit that might make the “oh John was just so in love” theory more reasonable.

It's extremely impressive that George just wrote this whole thing last night. You know? John and Paul have brought in all fragments from what I can tell. He's the only one to come in with a basically finished product.

LMAO and we're just going to Apple now. No reason. Nothing happened. Nothing to see. Moving on.

Ringo is so so cute pretending to hide from the cameras. Really he should've been the cute one.

Is it just me or does Paul drop the sillies and get sad when he sings “always be mine” at John? It's his regular voice, too, for a minute, if I'm not mistaken.

Silly cuties. But John's grin and little sexy tongue action happens the second time Paul sings always be mine, so…

What friendly artistic collaboration looks like when it's not psychosexual

Paul: have you played the dubs? George: yeah. Terrible. Paul: Great! Ringo: terrible. John: laughs Paul: (sarcastic) oh, so dreadful. …. John: where's my guitar? Paul: (still sarcastic) well we're just the greatest band ever. Idk I just like this dialogue. It's very them, you know?

This is adorable.

But I also love how they're already communicating with eyebrows, you know? They just bonded so fast and I find that beautiful.

And then Heather ups their game from taking turns going “chchchchch” into the mic to meowing into the mic. She looks at Paul like “okay your turn” and he sets her down lol he's thinking ‘if I meow into the mic right now after John already had a sex dream last night about me, he might actually cream his pants and we can't have that on camera’

Lol Billy just magically appeared!

Paul you're literally so annoying. You started the goofing off and now you're like “alright lads, that's enough.” Mkay.

He is unbelievably sexy and talented though so you know he does have those little things going for him. Someone write me a Paul/Billy fic please!!

Kinda crazy how they all four just slide straight from “Kansas City” to “Miss Ann” to “Lawdy Miss Claudy”. Makes me think of something they might've done in Hamburg.

I'm sorry but Paul finishes “please don't excite me baby. I'm down in misery.” And John's immediate answer is, “well you can get it if you want it, and if you want it you can get it!” And Paul ends up singing “I want it I want it I want it I want it”. Nice. Very subtle, boys. And that's before John gets kinky.

I love how Heather just forces a hug from George and then immediately runs away. What a cutie.

But really. How did anyone watching this get the idea that John hated Paul? Just confirmation bias I guess?

All the cut off conversations kill me but especially the one where John's working though Paul's anxieties. They're just in the middle of it and then cut. “two of us Sunday driving…”

Someone should do a study of whistling in their songs. I feel like it's another one of their tip offs that “hey this one is about us” Anyway I love John's whistling here. He's so good at it. I can just imagine him as some farm boy picking apples, you know?

Imagine booing this poor stay puppy though, like. What? I mean, what if Johann Weiner was wrong and John wasn't crying at the sight of him and Paul playing triumphant together on the rooftop, but at Paul playing his little heart out about their doomed love. Idk it's probably both. Let's be real, John was bawling through the whole thing.

What is George laughing at? Picture quality is garbage because evil corporations don't let you take screenshots of their content, but he looks like that one kid in your elementary school class that just dumped Cheetos all over his crushes desk and thinks he's a criminal mastermind.

Also I do appreciate all the attention given in the chosen shots to the musicianship. I bet they liked that at least if they had the heart to like anything about the movie at the time.

I'm sorry but I love how in sync Mo and Paul are. With this ducking and later the shimmying. I know it's wrong to ship Ringo’s wife with one of the Beatles she didn't sleep with, but… idk I really want her to have bedded all four at one point, you know? She deserves it, being an og.

Okay but yeah I'd be having a public meltdown if I fumbled that too holy fucking shit

Ringo feeling himself as he should

George just looks like he smells nice. Unlike the others. You know?

John has such a beautiful smile. If somebody looked at me like that I'd put him up on a giant screen behind me on my world tour after he'd been dead for forty years too.

That pleeeaaaheeeaaase though. Looking at Paul. How did he survive I'll never know.

The cut from screaming Paul to grouchy nap lady is extremely painful.

John was so cool in this concert. Like the epitome of cool.

Kevin, my love, thank you for your service

I love Yoko leaning so far and craning her neck. She's like a mom at a school talent show. Like “I only came to see my baby.” Type vibe. Which is exactly what she's doing, unlike Mo, and honestly I find both of them extremely valid

You know in movies where the romantic leads are never looking at each other at the same time?

I think I watched George and John switching back on their amps like fifty times because I just love it so much. And from this angle, you can see John's saying something to Paul about it. He looks serious and he's shaking his head. I wonder what he's saying.

Mal Evans I love you forever for this. Look at his hand on the rail, just blocking them off completely, so protective.

Them turning to each other at the end always gets me. It's automatic, like second nature, and it's the last time ever. They deserved better.

Oh Darling duet in the credits are you fucking kidding me??? Was that in the original? “Believe me, when I tell you.” “Oh I do.” That's the second time that they gave away in this footage that they know they're talking to each other in their music.

Alright, that's it, I guess. And then MLH is haunted by this experience for forty years until he makes Two of Us to purge the demons.

[pomegranate-red]

After the Lights Go Out

Leon Kennedy x Reader

Warnings: hurt/no comfort, angst, reader is dead, depression, alcoholism, male masturbation, and suicide. Maybe Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

A/N: If you’re struggling with your mental health, please reach out for professional health. Remember it is always darkest before dawn. MIDNI

Title from After the Lights Go Out by The Walker Brothers.

Leon was surprised he could even get hard anymore, with all the cheap alcohol he’s put in his body, not only should he be impotent, but also blind. Yet life always had new ways of surprising him. God he hated surprises, he didn’t always hate them but he did now that you were gone.

All he thinks of is of those moments when you’d surprise him coming home from a mission, you were just as corny as him. Red rose petals making a path towards the bed in which he rots now, some candles with a tasteful scent that he loved, he tried buying them when you were gone at first, but the scent makes him gag now. He finds his hand palming the annoyingly painful erection that throbs in his boxers. He disgusts himself.

She won’t say it, but he knows it, Claire is tired of his bullshit. She tried at first, god knows she tried, but a part of him died when you were gone, the part that prompted him to get out of bed every morning, wash his teeth, the part that helped him enjoy the few pleasures he could enjoy in life thanks to his line of work, he doesn't even shower now. You took that with you. He remembers the last time he saw you, god you were so beautiful, and just the thought of you makes his cock jump, he groans, he doesn’t know what he’s feeling, but… does he ever? He tries not to think of those last moments and of your smile.

He thinks of the times you’d have sex on the telephone, which was more often than he’d like, hearing you moan and whimper, probably the squelches of your cunt as your fingers digged as deep as they could, desperately pressing into your own g-spot, trying to replicate the pleasure he used to give you. To him every form of intimacy with you was heaven, your body his temple and your pussy his altar, he could’ve worshipped you for hours on end, and he’d never get tired of the taste, your moans, or the way you’d pull at his hair and beg for him to stop, out of overstimulation. “Come on baby, you can give me one more, can’t you?”

He’s not sure how, or when but he’s crying, it had been a few weeks since the las time he could cry, another surprise. He is full of self hatred, he thinks he always was, except this time it is painful just how much disgust he can feel towards himself. You would have been sad if you saw him, now he’s ashamed too, fantastic. But what was he to do? You were his sanity, you were his whole world, and you took all his light with you, all his dreams. He wanted to have a family, highly unlikely, since you both worked putting your lifes in danger for a government that pretended too give a fuck. Ah, the mere thought makes his tip drip precum and he groans at the thought of his wife all pregnant, round and swollen with his seed, he was getting desperate.

He whines, as he squeezes the base of his aching cock, he can’t help it, the image of your tits bouncing on his face comes to his mind and your name falls from his chapped lips in the same way his tears roll down his face, he doesn’t really notice when but he’s stroking. He thinks of the moans that would slip from your lips into his own and how he greedily looked for more, rutting into his fist the way he would rut into your pussy desperately, except his fist doesn’t suck him in the way your walls did. His balls contract and with a pathetic, strangled moan (or was it a sob?) he spills all over his abdomen and fist all the seed he should’ve shot inside you. He doesn’t even wipe himself, filthy as he is, he curls up on his bed, hugging your pillow, which no longer smelled like you, more like a mix of stale tears, cum, sweat and his own body odour, all traces of you gone. He throws it, he could rip his hair out. His phone rings, Chris, bless him, probably checking up on him, Leon ignores it, he curls up and cries.

He doesn’t know how many hours go by, but it looks late. He gets up and eyes your gun on your nightstand, he sighs and goes down to the kitchen, and fixes himself another drink, the whiskey’s cheap, and it burns. It’s not that he can’t afford any better, he just doesn’t drink to enjoy it, he downs the cheap whiskey and grimaces a little, the landline’s ringing, but again he ignores it. He thinks back to that one mission two months ago. He had a bad feeling, that maybe you shouldn’t have gone, and he told you, but you were headstrong, stubborn, and so you went anyway “it’s just an extraction” you’d said, yeah right. Things were going amazingly, almost no B.O.Ws, the few you did find, were dispatched swiftly. He loved how quick you were to put them out of their misery, “they were people once too, they deserve it…” you’d tell him often, you were a compassionate soul, he never would understand what a person like you was doing being an agent. You were almost done, you almost had him, but the terrorist had a shotgun and that shot was for Leon, if you hadn’t pushed him out the way, he would’ve died, but instead he just watched your head burst open, your brains covering his face. It was as if a switch flipped in his mind, and when he came to, his fists were bloody and a picasso would’ve looked more like a normal face than the man’s face, he must have smashed every bone in his face. But no amount of vengeance would bring you back, he had some of the remains of your brain in his hair and face.

He wants to puke, so he does, he throws up all over himself, he looks at his shirt, stained with cum and puke, and sighs. He downs another drink and then another, he goes back to his room, your room, 45 missed calls, Claire and Chris, but Leon can’t bring himself to care at all. He goes up to your nightstand and grabs your gun, it’s cold and heavy, he eyes it, you would keep it in pristine conditions, now it is dusty, he places the barrel in his mouth, he closes his eyes, he somehow likes imagining it is you who threatens him. He loves you so damn much he wouldn’t even try to persuade you, he’d close his eyes and let you decide if his brains stayed in or out.

He takes the gun out of his mouth and sits on the bed, his back to the headboard, his phone rings again and in an impulse he shoots it. He sits there in silence after the loud shot, and sighs, what the fucking hell, he cocks the gun again and places it in his mouth again, going as deep as he can without gagging, had he been in another situation he’d make a joke, but you’d taken his humour with you. In those moments he wonders if he’d go to heaven with you, because there’s no way you’d be anywhere else, his angel. He wonders if he deserves heaven, and he knows he doesn’t, but maybe god would let him be with you.

Those are the last thoughts going through his head before he pulls the trigger, leaving a mess on the wall for Chris and Claire to find the next day.

[55sturn]

✮ TO KNOW THINGS LIKE LOVE 0.2

pairing: matt sturniolo × female!reader (past tense)

synopsis: in which matt’s life is turned upside down in a split second and it leaves him a shell of the person he uses to be.

warnings: angst. angst. angst. ANGSTTTTT. death of main character, car crash, panic attacks, funeral, matt being absolutely heartbroken, broken relationship with hygiene and food, survivors guilt, suicide contemplation, no happy endings, get your tissues ready.

if you or a loved one is suffering from suicidal ideations, please don’t hesitate to reach out to me, to a friend, to a professional, or your regional/national suicide hotline from this list. the world is a better place with you in it and you are so loved.

THIRD PERSON POV

matt smiled at his girlfriend, hold the door open for her, as she made her way down the stairs leading from her front door.

“hey pretty lady.” matt whispered, making her playfully roll her eyes at the corniness of his actions, but the affection and intention behind his words and actions made her heart swell deep in her chest.

“you’re such a goof.” she laughed, pressing a quick kiss to his lips as she reached him, her way to say hello while simultaneously thanking him for being such a gentleman.

the two sat in comfortable and peaceful silence as they slowly made their way toward matt’s top secret date destination of the night. y/n couldn’t help but notice the way matt kept chewing his nails as he weaved his way down the busy los angeles roads. smiling, she wordlessly took his hand away from his mouth and intertwined their fingers.

“baby what’s wrong?”

“i’m just nervous honey, that’s all.”

“why?” she hummed, watching as they made their way into the turning lane, waiting a couple of cars away from the intersection.

“because i love you and i really need tonight to go well.” matt smiled, his plan of proposing staying well hidden in the back of his mind.

“baby, i love you so much that i would be fine if we ended up at some greasy fast food restaurant. i’d go anywhere with you.” she laughed, the sound easing his worries as he began to move his car forward.

“baby i love you t-.” matt started, attempting to pull up to the line before the intersection, but was soon cut off, watching in horror as a car barrelled toward his, his hand squeezing her as they had no time to move before the sickening sound of squealing rubber and breaking glass filled the air.

for a moment, matt struggled to open his eyes, the sharp ringing in his ears causing such a strong vibration that it was impossible for him to focus. taking in his surroundings, he realized his car had been pushed into the one beside him, the damage on his was minimal but still severe enough to write off the car. as he turned his head, it was as if all time had stopped. rushing to unbuckle himself, he pushed himself up in his seat, reaching to press the fingers of his free hand to y/n’s throat, struggling to find a pulse.

he pressed his fingers to every pulse point he could reach, not one single thump was found. his hand that still held hers started to tremble as he tapped her face lightly, watching as her head fell limp to her opposite shoulder.

“no, n-no baby, c’mon. wake up please.” he stuttered, thrashing around in his seat as people were able to successfully push the smaller car on his side out of the way, reaching him.

“sir are you okay?”

“yes but i think my girlfriend’s dead. she’s not breathing and i can’t find a pulse. please call for help.”

“the police and ambulance are on their way. do you want help getting out?” the stranger asked, reaching for the handle.

“no! i’m not fucking leaving her.” he screamed, running a shaky hand through his hair.

AFTER THE CRASH

matt sat on the curb, covered in a blanket watching as the coroners wheeled his girlfriend away in a body bag. abruptly, he stood up and keeled over, bracing himself up his hands and knees as he emptied the contents of his stomach for a third time since getting pulled out of his car.

matt had already talked to officers and every person that had questions for him, explaining in detail what happened as he waited for nick and chris. his injuries had been checked and cleaned and he had been cleared to wait on the curb.

the sound of glass breaking echoed in his mind, thankful in some sick way that y/n went quickly, not being able to stomach the thought of her screaming in agony. he never wanted to be in pain and he prayed that the few fleeting moments she had before she went were painless. the sound of nick and chris yelling brought him out of his traumatized stupor as he rose to his feet, quickly barrelling through the crowd of people into his brothers’ arms.

“matt what happened? where’s y/n.”

“a car came out of nowhere and hit her side and she-she’s gone.” matt sobbed, his knees crumbling beneath him as his brothers held him for support, their own hearts breaking for him.

“oh matt, i’m so sorry.” nick soothed, his voice cracking as they realized the severity of what had happened.

TWO WEEKS LATER

the triplets had flown home back to boston on separate private flights, per their requests. news had broken out about matt’s car crash and they weren’t ready to deal with the stares.

over the two weeks of preparation for the funeral, matt had drastically fallen apart. he wasn’t eating, wasn’t showering, and he has even contemplated taking his own life multiple times. but he couldn’t go through with it. he knew he had to live for y/n, carry on her love for life and everything it brought, no matter how hard it was for him.

matt had opted to fly home with y/n’s parents and her casket on a private jet that the hospital provided for them. not much was said or heard on the flight home aside from y/n’s mother’s and matt’s sniffles. matt had held tightly onto her mom’s hand the entire flight home. he had agreed to speak on her behalf at her funeral that was planned for the day after they arrived home

matt sighed as he straightened his tie, one that y/n had picked out out for him the night of her formal event at the university she was attending. it was a pale blue, almost silver, and she had claimed it matched his eyes perfectly. sadly he smiled at the piece of fabric before picking up his speech.

he left the small room that the funeral services had provided for him to prepare himself in and headed for the staircase at the end of the hall. as he made his way down the stairs, he was met with his brothers and y/n’s sister. after reassuring nick and chris that he could handle this, he turned to y/s/n and took a shaky breath.

“y/s/n i am so sorry, i meant to check in with you yesterday but being home was just too much.”

“matt, don’t you dare apologize. you are dealing with the worst thing imaginable. i wasn’t even there with her and i can’t even get myself to leave the house most days.” she whispered, tears falling from her eyes as she pulled the middle triplet into a tight hug.

“i miss her so much.”

“i know matty, i do too.” she spoke softly, patting him on the shoulder before making her way to where her parents were going to be sitting. matt took a seat at the back of the room as they began the service. matt stayed in his seat until he was called to the front. sighing he grasped the edges of the lectern, his speech laid out in front of him before he crumpled it, deciding to speak from the heart.

“hello everyone, i am matt sturniolo. most of you may know me as y/n’s boyfriend, some of you may know me as the guy she wouldn’t stop talking about all throughout high school even when we got together in tenth grade.” he laughed sadly, earning a few laughs from the people in front of him.

“we are here today,-“ he paused, clearing his throat as tears welled in his eyes,

“to celebrate the life of y/n m/n l/n. she was, and still is, pretty much always will be one of a kind. she was the love of my life. i was actually going to propose to her that night. and there was a time that i thought i would know her forever, but now i will just know her memory, and while that breaks my heart. it will be an honour to carry her memory with me forever. there are many stories i could tell you about her but i think she would curse me from above if i told those stories in front of her parents. i don’t think i can get through much more of this without falling apart so i will leave you with this, everyone in this room has had the pleasure of knowing such an incredible, gentle soul. if you were loved by y/n, you knew it. she might not have said it outright but you could feel her love for you in everything she did or said. she had such a big heart and did anything she could to share it. some may say it was a curse to love so deeply, but not y/n. god she always looked at it like it was her sole purpose in life. she treated it like it was breathing. loving any and every thing was second nature to her. and i hope, that i can spread even half as much as she did.” matt spoke softly, not bothering to wipe the tears that fell down his face as he turned to face her casket,

“y/n, my love, i will always cherish everything you have said and done for me, and i will love you in this lifetime and the next, may we meet again.”

taglist: @dylsdunbar @soursturniolo @4sturns @sturnsclutter @spencerstits @meanttomeet @bluesturniolo333 @graciereid @abbie13sworld @ghostofbrock @l9vesick @mylifeisevenstranger @bethsturn @ifilwtmfc @verosivy @themattgirl @lovingmattysposts @lacysturniolo @freshsturns @annaloveschris @forevergirlposts @sturniolo-fav-matt @cupidsword

© 55STURN 2024 [ you do not have permission to copy or save or share my work to other platforms and devices! ]

[stabbyfoxandrew]

Arsonist Neil/Firefighter Andrew for wip wednesday please🥺

WIP Wednesday (9/18) | Arsonist Neil / Firefighter Andrew AU (Part 235)

Neil isn't sure what the big deal is about Christmas. He never has. It's pretty though. He's been driving around since it got dark out, looking at the lights and decorations on peoples' houses. It’s amazing how brilliant the lights are. How, when they’re the right colors they almost look like flame. Neil jolts when his phone starts ringing. He answers it, puts it on speaker, and drops it back into the cup holder.

"How'd it go?" He asks, inching past a house whose roof has an inflatable Santa Claus dangling over the side of it. He supposes it's meant to be standing by the chimney, but it's clearly fallen. And it looks sort of like a Santa suicide.

"It went... Surprisingly well," Andrew answers with a sigh.

"You sound tired."

"Exhausted. I am not good at being around people. My social battery is dead. Need to recharge."

"So go to sleep," Neil says, eyeing a house with pretty white icicles glowing where they trickle down from the lip of the roof.

"Not that tired. Wanted to talk to you," Andrew says. Neil's heart jumps in his chest. After whatever sort of realization he had earlier, the thought of Andrew wanting him in any capacity has him lightheaded. Andrew yawns audibly. "What are you doing right now?"

Neil tells Andrew that he's touring the Christmas lights and Andrew scoffs.

"It's pretty. Really pretty. Almost makes me wish I had a house."

"Oh? Your hotel hasn't done up every empty space with merry, jolly goodness?"

"There's a tree in the lobby, next to the fireplace. Looks like something out of a movie. I sat there for a little while this evening, just watching the flames," Neil tells him. They were just as pretty as the lights on the tree, but he doesn't say so.

"That sounds like good enrichment for you."

"It was." Neil reaches an intersection and waits for a moment before turning left down another residential street. "Andrew, do you do Christmas?"

"Nah."

"Oh."

"Why?"

"I want to get you a Christmas present." Neil admits. Perhaps it's all the corny movies he's been watching recently, but it seems like it would be fun. Picking out a gift for someone you care about. Andrew's the only person on that list. Besides, Neil needs to see him up close and in person. He didn't know it until earlier, but he thinks...

Andrew scoffs. "You realize that means we would have to meet somewhere for you to give to me?"

"Yeah. I'm ready." Neil decides. He really is this time. He can handle it, as long as Andrew is there too.

[tgmsunmontue]

You need to learn how to fall 9/10

Hangster (and IceMav) - Bradley is too tall to be a naval aviator and instead becomes a sky diver, specialising in spin recovery. He is a civilian contractor to the military to teach pilots how to survive parachute spins from ejections. A more in-depth version of this post.

PROLOGUE 2003-2006 2007-2010 2011-2015 2016+ ~2019 ~2019 (contd 1) ~2019 (contd 2)

                Jake leaves early, kissing him goodbye and telling him he has a day of training ahead of him but he’ll be back. He lets him go, knows he will definitely see him later. But he wants to talk to Ice. Needs to talk to him and he doesn’t linger in bed, already has a jump planned so he can’t lie about.

                “So, this mission… that Mav and Jake are undertaking,” he starts, and he doesn’t know for certain, but he's able to make conclusions from the data provided to him.

                “Yes. It’s… dangerous.”

                “How dangerous?” Bradley presses, because everything they do has an element of danger.

                “It’ll require a couple of miracles. Mav’s words.”

                “Jesus fuck…” Bradley mutters, because Mav doesn’t call them that lightly. “So it’s a suicide mission?”

                “Not if he gets his way. And you know him, he usually gets his way.”

                Bradley huffs at the weak joke, but his heart is frozen at the idea that he might not have Mav around anymore, or Jake… worst case scenario, neither of them. He’s already had the gut churning fear of thinking he may have lost Mav too recently, one of the reasons why he’s no longer holding back at all with Jake…

                Fuck.

                “No other options huh?”

                “No other option,” Ice says, and Bradley gives him a tight hug.

…             …             …

                Jake stares at his phone, worried that he hasn’t had a reply from Bradley about his invitation and startles a little when Maverick sidles up to him, coffee cup in hand although he’s pretty sure it’s not coffee Maverick is drinking, but something more like a herbal tea.

                “You alright Lieutenant?”

                “Of course sir.”

                “He landed safely from his second jump fifteen minutes ago, won’t be checking his phone for about another half hour, but I have confirmation that he’s safe.”

                “Oh,” something inside uncurls, and he realizes it’s a bigger part that he’s not being deliberately ignored. He never doubted that Bradley was safe. His own phone is normally in his locker, untouched, but it’s their lunch break and he’d made an uncharacteristic check; unused to silence from Bradley and of course it all makes sense now.

                “He doesn’t let anything distract him when he’s jumping. Phone stays in the chase vehicle. He’ll answer you as soon as he can.”

                “Thanks Mav.”

                “Anytime.”

                “You seem pretty… invested in him.”

                “Did you know it took him nearly three years before he even agreed to have a drink with me?”

                Mav laughs, shakes his head and Jake doesn’t ask him what’s funny.

                “So I’ll take my three nights with him, and every scrap of every minute in between.”

                “And after?”

                Jake shrugs, it feels too soon, too cheesy and corny to say forever, or a lifetime even if that’s what his gut-instinct was to simply blurt out. Mav slaps him on the arm, nods his head like he understands and then simply walks away and Jake wonders what the hell he saw in Jake’s face.

                “What were you and Maverick talking about? Looked serious.”

                “Yeah, I guess It was.”

…             …             …

                “You’re looking awfully happy. Hot date?”

                “The hottest. I’m finally in North Island, and Bradley Bradshaw is finally in North Island…”

                “Did he finally agree to a date?” Phoenix asks, because they’d all known Jake had asked Bradley out when he’d been their instructor at Top Gun.

                “More than that. He’s meeting me here right… about… now…” Jake says, watching as Bradley pushes the door open and catches his eye. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Bradley in anything other than a suit or pajamas. And naked of course. Now he’s walking toward Jake and the jeans make his legs look endless, scoop necked tank revealing the start of his chest hair and an odd Hawaiian button-down shirt in muted colors. He looks so fucking good and Jake can’t wait to go home with him, tomorrow dedicated to resting before they flyout.

                “Jesus Bagman, try and be a little subtle, he’s going to think you’re only after him for one thing.”

                “He knows I’m not.”

                “Bradshaw, as I live and breathe…”

                “Jake. You look… good.”

                “Only good? Must be slipping…”

                Then he leans forward into Bradley’s space and they’re kissing, gentle-soft and he knows they’re getting looks, draws back, and turns to the watching crowd.

                “Everyone, you remember Dr Bradshaw.”

                “Bradley. Please, call me Bradley.”

                Despite the numerous sideways looks he gets Bradley slots right into the Daggers, hustles them all, including Jake, with his pool playing skills. Tells them off for underestimating someone who has a doctorate in physics and understanding the effect of spin on objects. He then turns to Jake, smile almost splitting his face;

                “You especially should know not to underestimate me, you know who raised me and likely taught me how to play…”

                “Of course he did…” Jake mutters, because one thing he’s learnt these last couple of weeks is to never underestimate Maverick Mitchell. And mentioning him like this means it’s obviously okay to mention their relationship to one another.

                “What’s he talking about?”

                “Maverick raised me, I think you’re familiar with him?” Bradley asks, tongue between his teeth and Jake doesn’t resist the urge to just lean forward and kiss him. He’s clearly enjoying being a bit of a dick and Jake is so here for it. As if they have one mind all the Dagger Squad swing to look at him.

                “What?” Javy asks, clearly the silently nominated speaker, and Javy has known about him messaging Bradley for the last few months, has been encouraging of it, happy for him.

                “Bradley here is the godson of our esteemed leader, Maverick.”

                There’s a couple of sideways looks and Jake licks his lips, realizes that some of them might be jumping to certain incorrect conclusions. Javy’s eyebrows are up in disbelief.

                “Tell them when I found out about that,” Jake says, because he’d been named wingman on Friday, which is only yesterday but also feels likes weeks ago, and it wasn’t because of this new relationship he has with Bradley.

                “Last night. Uh. Jake and Maverick were at my place at the same time… I hadn’t really told them about each other. Was a surprise all round.”

                “Ooohhh… that explains that talk you guys were having this morning. Was it a shovel talk?” Phoenix asked, and she looks hopeful.

                “Mav talked to you?” Bradley asks, looking concerned.

                “It wasn’t a shovel talk! But yes, he did talk to me, but it wasn’t a shovel talk. More like the opposite if anything…”

                “So… it’s just been this whole big coincidence?” Javy says, and he’s starting to grin now and Jake’s stomach sinks, because his best friend is about to throw him somewhere, under a bus or into a canyon… “Did Jake tell you about the time he and I picked Mav up and threw him out of here?”

                “Out of here? The Hard Deck?”

                “Yep,” Javy says, grinning, and the others are starting to grin too and Jake groans. Bradley looks delighted though, and he should have known.

                “When was this?”

                “A couple of weeks ago…”

                “Oh my god… that was you. I…” he cuts off abruptly and Jake realizes he was probably about to say Ice. “I heard about that. Not from Mav though. Someone else told me,” Bradley finishes, and Jake takes that as confirmation that it was definitely Iceman that had told him.

                Fucking hell.

                He freezes then, sudden realization dawning.

                He threw the husband of the COMPACFLT out of the Hard Deck onto his ass… And he’s alive and breathing.

                Okay.

                Maybe he doesn’t have to worry too much about breaking Bradley’s heart if he can do that to Maverick and suffer no consequence. At least none that he knows about anyway.

                Oh god, he cannot wait until Javy gets to have this same realization. He has to see that.

                “Yeah, didn’t do much for his post-ejection injuries apparently.”

                “Wait, what?”

                Bradley looks between them, purses his lips and then bites them, and Jake wonders if this is another thing that Bradley’s maybe not meant to mention. Fucking hell, no wonder Maverick wasn’t meant to be flying lead.

                “Nothing, it’s fine. Oh! Hey Aunt Penny…”

                “Bradley!” She greets, giving him a one-armed hug as she gathers empties. “Long time since you’ve been around here. What are you doing with this bunch of reprobates?”

                Almost as one the Daggers voice their displeasure, already distracted and Jake grins at her, expects a grin back, is instead given the coldest look he’s ever received and he straightens, wonders what he’s done to earn her displeasure because she’s been nothing but friendly before.

                “Do his parents know about you?” She asks, voice low enough Jake has to struggle to hear her.

                “Uh… I met them last night. So yes?”

                “Really?”

                “Maverick and, uh, the other one,” Jake offers, because he’d said he wouldn’t mention what he’d learnt, which is a little hard to do when Penny Benjamin is staring him down. Except she’s back to smiling at him, nodding her head.

                “Welcome to the family kid, look forward to seeing more of you.”

                Fuck he hopes so.

…             …             …

                They spend most of Sunday resting, and like on Friday night they don’t seem to want to stop touching one another. He’s okay with that, lets Jake press into him and hold himself as close he can in Bradley’s space. They do shower and dress for lunch with Mav and Ice. Then Jake takes a phone call with his family and Bradley sits with Mav, insists on a game of five-hundred to keep his mind off the hours ticking down to their departure. Ice has disappeared into his study and they both know it’s his own way of coping, keeping himself busy with work. He doesn’t need to say anything, he knows he can’t say anything. What he can do is spend time, so that’s what he does. With both the man he’s known his entire life, and the man he’s only recently let into his life. When Jake is off the phone they coax Ice out of his study and end up playing four-player five-hundred before deciding that Ice and Mav cannot be partners, their table talk far to subtle to be caught and Bradley is sick of them winning.

                At three in the morning he hears Jake‘s alarm go off, and he hopes Jake at least got more sleep than he did. He watches in silence as Jake slides out of bed and heads to the shower, comes out fully dressed and he sees Bradley watching him in the dimmed half-light.

                “I look forward to my welcome home, okay?”

                “You take care out there, you hear me?”

                “Always darlin’.”

                “That’s all I can ask.”

                The kiss Jake gives him is softly sweet.

                They don’t say goodbye.

PART TEN

[girlscoutbrownies]

Fandom: School Bus Graveyard

Word Count: 1241

Summary:

What do people say again? Time flies when you’re having fun? They’d be right, except he’s not really having fun right now.

He’s not really having much of anything. He’s just… there.

Additional Notes + Content Warnings: Descriptions of disassociation, mild forest horror. Aiden is very much an unreliable narrator here.

This is not posted on ao3.

—

Aiden Clark does this thing where time flies sometimes.

That’s not really the right word for it, though, because saying that time is flying implies that he knows that it’s moving. He really doesn’t.

He blinks and he’s lost hours. He loses time. Yes, yeah, yeah - losing time. That’s the term.

( Actually, he’s been told that it’s disassociation. He doesn’t really care for those big words, though. )

Something’s off, he thinks, the first time.

His room is dark. It’s always dark in his room. Very, very dark. Dark, so that he doesn’t have to see the empty cans on his table and the stacks of cup ramen.

It gives off, automatically, the sense of someone is sleeping here, but they’re not living.

And maybe that’s corny, but is he alive?

He doesn’t feel alive right now. Alive people feel the mattress under their feet and the blanket over their legs.

God, his inner monologue is always kind of depressing. Seasonal depression, maybe? It is winter.

It’s always winter, though.

Maybe the seasons are changing, and he doesn’t know, because the sky outside of his window is dreary and sad and depressing and he’s not quite sure when the cold stops and the warm begins, because he doesn’t know what warm is like.

The monitor is dark, too. He thinks that sometimes, all he does is watch himself lay in bed, from inside some inner world where nothing can hurt him, the childhood monsters-in-his-closet latching onto him like some fucked up koala. No, koalas aren’t the ones that latch. Those are sloths.

He’s alive, actually. That’s kind of sad. Wait, no, it’s not. No, no, no, Aiden. Being alive is good.

( Sometimes he wonders what it’s like to die. It’s not in a suicidal way, though. Not really. )

He wonders if dead people still need to eat and live and breathe and order things at restaurants, except he’s seen enough movies and read enough books to know that the only dead people that do that are the zombies.

He wonders if zombies have to make eye contact and ask for consent before they bite people. But only alive people do that, because alive people know what it’s like to feel bad. Corpses don’t make eye contact.

Corpses don’t feel anything at all.

( If he thinks ahead, outside of this memory, he wonders if all of his intentional eye contact is just a weird way of him scrounging up whatever sense of identity he has left, a way of saying I am here and alive and you will have to look at me, or if it’s just another byproduct of never interacting with other people his age, not until Ben. Maybe it’s both, actually. )

He is alive. He feels his heart beating sometimes, a steady familiar song that he knows the exact tune to. You’re not supposed to hear your heartbeat, though, are you? Not unless you’re in a hospital, strapped to wires and stripped to the bone like a weird fucking mannequin on display.

That’s funny.

Well, it’d be funny, except he’s not laughing. That’s typically the baseline for something considered humorous.

He’s not doing much of anything. Right, what was he doing again? The blanket. It’s there. He feels the blanket, bunching it up in his hands. It feels fake, but he knows it’s real. The world isn’t advanced enough for something like that, not yet at least. It feels like something sheared too quickly and never processed and rough and it’s a disgusting horrible shade of gray and—

Right, what was he doing again?

Five senses. He can feel his veins twisting underneath his skin and blood flowing in an unending path to his heart to keep him alive. That’s not quite how you phrase it, he thinks.

He turns his hand. It’s pale and the blue lines stand out prominently, not faintly like a normal person’s would be. They snake under his bones like vines in a forest, grabbing hold of his bones and muscle because he can’t have anything, he’s surrendered it to rot in this room and he’s suddenly sharply thrusted out of this shitty memory—

( He doesn’t really like the forest. Maybe he did, once before, but a long, long time ago, he’d been told that bad parents send their children to the woods to die and that really, he should be grateful he has a house and a place to stay in.

The forest swallows up everything. It’s a wonder humanity hasn’t burned it all to the ground, honestly. Setting ablaze to his nightmares, the ones he has when it’s getting particularly bad and he sits in a dark clearing and watches nature reclaim its score. This was never their place to live.

It gets worse after the phantom dimension. Pillars of rock soaring into the sky, something that shouldn’t be possible because of the “laws of nature,” but nature follows its own set of rules, doesn’t it? It doesn’t care about us. He’d envisioned, the night after, when he’d finally managed to drift off, the forest grabbing onto Tyler and never letting go. Sinking into mud and dirt and decaying to the bone.

He doesn’t really like the forest. )

Right, he was doing… something…

Oh, he’s in bed. He’s in bed and the shutters have been pulled wide open, bright sunlight filtering through the glass. Wasn’t it just dark out?

“Aiden?”

His eyes snap towards the voice blocking the doorway. No, that’s not right. The voice near the doorway. His therapist told him to stop treating everyone like video game obstacles. Oh, well. Who was she kidding? It’s not like he told her anything, anyways.

Ashlyn is standing there, looking worried enough that he almost feels warmed by the concern. Almost.

They make eye contact, too prolonged and too vivid. He thinks he’s making her uncomfortable. That’s a shame.

Five senses. He can’t feel the blanket. It’s soft, isn’t it? He combs through his memories, knowing what it’s supposed to feel like. It’s silk or something, or maybe it’s fleece. He doesn’t know which one this is; they’re all the same colour, and he can’t feel. The texture is wrong.

It doesn’t feel like anything. He’s supposed to feel things. That’s his whole—pardon his redundancy—but that’s his whole thing. He’s the bouncy one, up and alive and too many feelings, to compensate for when the others are down.

Off topic. He’s getting off topic again. This isn’t a lecture, though; he’s not following a lesson plan. He’s just here.

“Um… are you… okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” he says with little hesitation. He thinks to himself that he really doesn’t care for speaking right now, but the familiar words roll off his tongue like…

He’s not that great with analogies. Similes. Whatever.

“You’re still in bed. It’s nearly two in the afternoon.”

Is it? He hadn’t realized time passed so quickly. Or, flew. Disappeared.

“Ben said that you were probably sleeping in, but, well…” She looks over, rather confusedly, at his unmoving form. He’s been sitting here for a while, hasn’t he?

“I’m hungry,” Aiden announces, pushing himself off the mattress. He feels it under his hands, which is good. It’s not the same softness as it should be, but it’s still there. It’s there, and this is real. He’s real.

“Do we have anything to eat?” The wood paneling is hard and cold under his feet. He wishes he’d gotten carpet.

It’s still cold in here.

[gravedigginbbydoll]

Hawkins University : The Munson Edition

64.media.tumblr.com

AN: Hey, y'all. So this is it. I took 5ever to finish it, I know, but it's been a crazy ride. I wanted to give these two a sweet ending and plenty of room for any future blurbs if I decide to write them. Truth be told, I think I will step away from series writing for now. I will be uploading blurbs, but not as regularly as I used to. Please know I'm here tho and always willing to answer messages.

In an effort to not be corny, I won't blab too much but thank you all for reading my writing. It means the world to me. I've been through a lot while writing this fanfic, and Hawkins Uni has been my own little world that I share with you all. Your interactions, love, and reading mean the world to me. Thank you all so much.

→ cliches: friends to lovers, heavy use of nicknames instead of Y/N, we're all just struggling college kids, Music Tutor! Eddie, Resident Assistant! Reader, good girl x bad boy, instant connections, 'I don't trust most people but I trust you', 'are we friends or more?', and 'I can't believe you're such a slut that you have a special dtf drawer...'

→ warnings: mature topics, insecurity, hurt and comfort, drinking and drug usage, strong language, bullying, mental health, discussion of suicide and self harm, mature thoughts, eventual smut, minors dni

→ pairing: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader

<Previous Masterlist

Epilogue

Bug's POV

You stood anxiously, fiddling with your clothes, nerves swirling in your stomach. You’d passed your finals and managed to make it through the semester without a huge hiccup, even passing your Beginner’s Guitar with flying colors. Afterwards, Eddie asked you to accompany him on a date, teasing that the two of you rarely got a moment alone without Robin and Steve third-wheeling. You agreed, despite your apprehension at being seen out in public. You’d not gotten as many glares or dirty looks lately (no doubt due to the Munson boy glaring down anyone who even huffed in your direction.), but you still felt uneasy. 

You and Eddie were going to Frosty’s per your old rituals, then snuggling in bed and watching movies. But something was off. Eddie was smiling lately like he had a secret, and it made you a bit on edge. You shook your head, shaking off bad thoughts and anxiety as best as you could. 

You headed down to the parking lot, only to see Eddie looking as gorgeous as ever in a leather jacket, leaning against a motorbike. His head was tilted back, smoke billowing into the air up above him. He rarely smoked unless stressed. Your stomach tightened further. 

Maybe he wants to break up with you…

I mean…He is a catch…and way out of your league. 

You should just let him get it over with, he’s probably tired of you…

Your brain swirled with anxiety, thoughts drowning out all reason. 

Eddie turned his head over to you, smile blindingly bright. 

“Hey. Ready for our hot date?,” He teased, winking at you, brown eyes glimmering with mischief. 

You smiled as convincingly as you could, your stomach churning. 

“Sure. Let’s go.”

You sat in the furthest booth, the dim area in the usually bright burger joint giving an illusion of privacy. Eddie was sharing his fries with you, flirting blatantly and telling silly stories about his childhood years, how much of a pain he’d been for Wayne to hassle with. 

You tried to calm your nerves, seeing as he wasn’t breaking up with you. At least so far. 

Then, towards the end of the meal, soda watered down and bellies full, Eddie’s face got solemn. 

Your heart squeezed, stomach churning while your hands trembled. 

You never even got to tell him you loved him.

It was silly to think it would last anyway…

You steeled your nerves, trying to brace yourself, using all it took to keep your lip from tremblings, hands shaky and eyes stinging. 

“Look…Y/N,” He started, the use of your name and not some sweet pet name or Bug turning your nerves to ice. 

“I don’t know how to say this…I’ve been wanting to say it for a while. Since I helped you with the whole bullying incident,” He clenched his fists a bit, as if angered by the memory. Your heart was pounding. He held off from a breakup for this long? Why?

He looked up, brown eyes raw and full of emotion, brows furrowed softly. 

“You mean everything to me. You make me want to be a better person. The way you’re absolutely selfless and patient and caring…it’s like a beam of light. I know you always go on and on about how I’m a star…But in reality, I’m the moon reflecting the bright light of you,” Eddies voice was thick with emotion, eyes blinking back tears. 

Your head swam with confusion. You were still tense, readying yourself for the killing blow but loosening up a bit, brows furrowed as you stared at Eddie. 

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small velvet box and sliding it across to you, his hands a bit shaky. 

You reached out cautiously to it, heart skipping a beat, grabbing for the box. You gingerly opened it, brow furrowing in confusion. Inside was a brand new key, the bronze twinkling up at you in the light. You grabbed at the key, turning it over in your palm. 

“Eddie..What is this?”

He fiddled with his rings, a nervous habit of his that you knew from time spent with him. His eyes darted down to the table avoiding your gaze. 

“It’s a key. To my place…It’s kinda my corny way of asking if you want to move in with me next year,” He smiled crookedly at you, cheeks pink and expression bashful. 

Your heart soared, your eyes beginning to water as you shook softly. 

Eddie’s brows furrowed, getting up quickly to sit next to you in the seat, placing his arm around you. 

“Bug… What’s wrong? Is it too soon? I’m sorry, I just-” 

You shook your head, laughing a bit while tears flowed, leaning into him and hugging him. 

“No, you doofus, I thought you were gonna break up with me!,” You sniffed, heart overflowing with emotions. 

Eddie pulled away looking into your eyes, expression worried and sympathetic. “What? Baby, no. I love you. I would never do that, especially not in a place so important to us.” 

Your heart skipped a beat as you felt everything stop. You blinked away stray tears, looking into Eddie’s warm eyes, feeling your emotions overflow. 

“You…you love me?” 

He nodded, smiling gently, caressing the side of your face. “Of course I do,” He murmured to you, eyes softening. 

You felt your heart soar as you smiled, tears continuing to roll down your cheeks, pulling Eddie in by the shirt for a bruising kiss, his soft gasp making your stomach flutter. You pulled away, smiling, eyes focused on him. 

“I love you too…of course I’ll move in with you.”

Eddie’s grin beamed as he attacked your face with kisses, causing you to squeal as he rambled on between playful pecks. 

“We’ll get you your own mug-” 

“-and start moving your stuff in-”

“-and I can build you a PC-”

You giggled the night away as Eddie continued on his excited planning, even after stopping his attack of kisses, his demeanor even brighter than before. 

That night, when the apartment was quiet and it was almost time for sleep, you and Eddie laid down, whispering promises of shopping sprees and domesticity. You felt like you were on cloud nine, your body relaxing and your heart floating above all your anxieties for the time being. 

Sure you still had issues with insecurity, and anxiety, and life was far from perfect. 

But you’d learned something. 

Maybe life didn’t necessarily have happy endings, but it sure as hell had joy, and you would savor every last drop of it. 

Taglist: @josephquinnsfreckles @corrodedcoffincumslut @kirisuteg0men @bebe07011 @amira0303 @vintagehellfire @lottie-90 @animechick555

[ruexvn]

hey pookie i love your writing so much omg, like i love the way you write all the characters. could i request your personal eyeless jack headcannons if you haven’t done them already? like how do you see his personality and everything :O

! EJ Headcannons !

Gotcha! And muah 💋 I was on the fannon side for majority of my creepypasta phase before I left and came back liking the cannon versions more! Though I’m still learning about the fellow creeps once again, Soo here’s my thoughts on this grumpy beast

————————————————————————Very quiet and rarely speaks unless someone strikes a convo with him

He’s a very closed person and doesn’t want to get close to anyone again, much rather dwell on his own(traumatized)

Hates looking at himself because he wants to rip off his skin, can’t stand to always look at what he is now

Corny asf when trying to tell a joke, that or tells very dry jokes (loser)

His own barber because he hates when his hair gets too long

A huge bookworm still; always reading books of human anatomy, psychology books, etc

Sometimes captures his next victim and performs surgeries and stuff on them, basically just experimenting then eats them

I definitely see him having DID(dissociative identity disorder) because of the demon

When his personality is switched he’s like a rabid beast. His lingering humanity is erased in that moment and purely acts on instinct

He always manages to switch back before he’s completely consumed

The only ‘friend’ he lets around him is Jeff because he could care less is Jeff died, he’s a piece of shit after all

Jack definitely still tries to this day to find a way to go back to normal, even if it means he dies trying because he just wants to be free

Jealous ash when he sees people doing well to reach the profession he was studying for before everything went down

His human feelings are numb so when he thinks about his mom it’s just replaying memories without emotion

“Hm, I remember when mom did that for me.”

I definitely see this man to be a bit buff: he’s not carry bodies with a skinny body. The transformation did a big number on that

Not exactly bodybuilding like but you’ll definitely want to squeeze his bicep a bit(take a little bite)

Hes a bit over 6 ft. the most ill say is 6'5

Does not fall to slendermans influence but they both have a pact. Slenderman keeps him concealed from the world like the others and in return he heals whomever needs it

Good practice anyway but slenderman gives him the creeps

Let’s be fr he doesn’t have that stinky mask on all the time, it’s suffocating enough to even wear it because he needs his face to breathe

Only wears it when he ‘hunts’ and takes it off when he’s alone. Doesn’t let the other creeps see his face besides Jeff because he deadass snatched it off him

Did not go well for Jeff after, a miracle he’s still alive(Jack patched him up)

Has a nice cabin that he built deep into the woods with a clearing a bit beyond a forest, a small pond residing somewhere along (bee keeping age??)

Bro is literally a miracle. Knows how to rid of cold, flu, anything (where tf was u during Covid)

All in all he’s tied to nature because it’s quiet and that’s what he longs because that demon that screams in his head to feed it makes him want to maybe let him be consumed

Definitely depressed but lives with it, not suicidal at all surprisingly because he’s been alive for so long so very accustomed(hes tried and he really can’t die)

Hates being touched, there will be a hand through ur chest if u attempt, ask for permission before u become minced meat

A softy sometimes if you manage to be his friend, doesn’t show he kinda cares for u. Only shows it when u need to be patched up and he does it with the most gentle hands ever(does the opposite to Jeff)

I like to think him and Jeff have a rivalry but really it’s just Jeff pestering him and Jack sucks it up because maybe a different loud voice is comforting

This man deserves better

[thedeviltohisangel]

i have been religiously consuming any and all cass and bucky content, i seriously think i'm addicted. since this latest post and the snippets that we've gotten before there's one thought that keeps crossing my mind about their stalag stay.

does cass ever resent bucky for his harsh reaction to her being there? like he basically did the same thing on the berlin mission as she did for buck? how could he not remember himself feeling the pain and helpless as she did? he was willing to go on a suicide mission to just inflict the most amount of damage possible, despite his love for her?!?!? it's driving me crazy thinking about it

i absolutely adore your writing and hope you don't take this as ANY kinda of criticism 🖤

Thank you for enjoying my little universe! Is it too corny to pull a T Swift reference and say I put narcotics in all my writing to keep you addicted and reading?

I do not take this as criticism at all! I hope you guys are sometimes confused by their choices or even disagree wholeheartedly with them because ultimately they are going to act like hypocrites and not always make the 'right' or 'best' decision and act impulsively/emotionally and I want them to and I want you all to feel that.

Cass and John both resent each other for a whole hell of a lot of their decisions. Cass is just better at keeping it bottled in and getting over it (re: him flying again instead of safely staying on the ground. incredibly hypocritical of her and she fully understands that and proceeds with being angry about it before getting over it the best way she knows how. compartmentalizing it). A lot of this resentment is going to be explored when they leave the camp.

Cass does not truly understand what his mental state is when she gets there. They've had brief moments with a fence between them. Even briefer moments in letters back and forth. She does not understand that this hyper idealized version of her is the only thing keeping John from trying to escape or trying to get himself killed. And we can't blame her for not knowing he has made her a deity and put her on a pedestal that she can never truly live up to and we can't blame John for using that to cope and being upset when she doesn't reach those heights in the days or weeks where he sees her again.

I think a part of Cass wanted him to be angry at her for Berlin? Wanted him to match her levels of irrational anger so she felt better about it? But now he is showing it here and she is like no, now I don't want it. I want you to be happy I'm here and tell me you love me and that we are going to get out of here and pick up where we left off (spoiler alert: they do not get to pick up right where they left off).

He does remember the pain and helplessness he felt when he watched Cass take off for Berlin and better yet he remembers how he felt holding her as she collapsed in the med bay. Is he capable of understanding in his current state that she may be feeling that same way but a hundred times worse? Sure but not the depths to which she is willing to go to fix that feeling (he also has no idea about her miscarriage at this point. Probably won't until they get to Buck's wedding). He is so singularly focused on getting out or getting radio parts and Gale is distracting his restless friend as best as possible but even he is running out of ideas on how to keep John's mind at all stable. By the time Cass gets there, John is barely hanging on by a thread (acting out baseball games. sleeping until the afternoon. practicing conversations with her that he is not sure he will ever even have).

John loves Gale in the same immense, immeasurable way he loves Cass. He derives his use from protecting and providing. We talk so much about the stereotypes Cass is expected to fit into and not nearly enough about the ones John is expected to fill. What kind of man can't protect his best friend? What kind of man doesn't avenge the death of said best friend? What kind of man finds a girl and marries her in London and lets it soften him to the point he shirks his responsibilities to drop bombs and end a war? And all these things are in direct conflict to: What kind of man leaves his wife? What kind of man promises the woman he loves the actualization of all her dreams and then doesn't follow through? What kind of man could ever think he DESERVED a woman like Cassandra Ann Cooper?

And if it really is inevitable that one day he will go up there and not come down. And if he knows he can't live with himself if he doesn't try to drop a bomb with Gale Cleven's name on it or drop a bomb in the hopes someone who hurt his wife is down there. And if he knows he said goodbye to Cass while she was asleep in London and did his best to say the words without truly saying them before he got on the back of his truck. Then doesn't it feel right for John Egan to go out on his own terms?

This was probably not the essay you were expecting but the psyche of these two is what keeps me coming back to them and I am so glad you asked about it how you did. Because I always hope that reading the pieces of them leads to questions about how they make up the whole.

And I am always happy to discuss any of this further and explore in more detail if it tickles at your brain!

Thank you for reading, means the world to me xoxo

[431989]

more resident alien posting. predictions... spoilers so beware

well. i'm upset that the shows going to have a difficult time having more serious scenes now. and that's probably what it's going to try and set itself up for.

i reaaaally would have loved to see this show do something ACTUALLY different and good. by different i mean in terms of writing and not necessarily drifting from source material. yes i'm still sour over last ep, but i wouldn't be AS sour if everyone on the show didn't treat harry and asta's relationship as "mother and child." and also if the show didn't take such a nose dive into the type of comedy it's putting out.

ALSO? IN A RECENT INTERVIEW? Sheridan going on to state that harry would lose his first """love""" (more like lust. awesome that a show trying to teach human emotion gets those two things mixed up) and then realize there's love everywhere or something? why does this feel like "weird" people are forever left to the role of outcasts. already fucked it up once i guess the guy's trying to fuck it up more. could've just left it at "he'll lose his first love, then he will have to reconcile with his feelings." but he had to drop in that last corny bit.

like. the show's source is already good. i don't understand all these decisions they're making to try and make it seem "unique." and now to get numbers back they're dumbing it way down. WHICH. BY DOING SO. HOW ARE YOU GOING TO HAVE YOUR DRAMA? like how am i supposed to take anything seriously in the show. i *could* in season 1 and parts of season 2, but now it's just whatever. it's too goofed up for me to care. and now people who love the goofy won't give two shits about whatever message you want to drop or plot you want to develop. i dont give a shit about the greys!!! i dont care what theyre doing!!!! who gives a fuck if theyll blow up the earth. none of the characters really care anymore either. oh well!!!

also, predictions kind of. i'm not trying to say this will be the be all end all but it certainly could be a turn the show takes. in one of the issues of the comic (suicide blonde i think), harry is investigating the "suicide" of a woman. by the end of the issue, he catches up with her ex-lover and ex-roommate. they were both ladies. and the girl who died had a drinking problem btw. and was constantly seeing boys. i'm all for gay couples on screen as a gay guy myself but it'll feel so cheap to pair darcy and asta together despite the way theyve been played on screen. maybe its doable. i don't know. but i genuinely could care less considering the overall tone of the show's drifted more towards a sitcom than anything else. i think the small handful of 40+ year old gay wine moms would probably love it, but the vast majority of viewers wont. either they'll hate it and say it's forced diversity (there's already people saying that about the gay couple on screen this past episode) or it'll be another nothing moment to a further nothing story. if anything it'd feel one step removed from tokenization, considering they see harry as a manchild. ableism! show's trying to seem fucking wholesome but they can't be bothered to care about their nd viewers. like "haha look we have a main gay couple!!! what do you *mean* our show has rampant ableist tropes, we have a gay couple!"

i'm just so bummed. the show's cornered itself into a sitcom so meaningful moments aren't a thing anymore. plus the comparison of harry to a child is really getting at me. like he's a grown man as a human, and hes a grown alien thing as an alien. it's such a big slap in the face to any person who cherished the witty and unique story telling of the first season... like.... i don't know.... people who would've been fans of the comic too? i have small gripes about the comic, but at least it takes itself more seriously. but the show runners haaate the people who read the comics. why? i dont know. well maybe i do know. probably seen as too nerdy and weird for their idea of the show's viewerbase. despite the fucking basis of the show being weird and nerdy.

they couldve done the darcy asta thing better if they do go down that road. i'm just saying i wouldn't be surprised. they already scared off everyone who would've cared for something like that, so i don't know how they'll manage to find an audience that cares. everything in s1 was so organic and felt real!!!!! now its just!!! nothing!!!!!!!!!!

im also thinking about the fact that after posting that one resident alien drawing i did, i've had to block tons of people because they're freaks. loud and proud conservatives. man this shit sucks.

[cto10121]

Re-watching the New Moon movie and I have many Thoughts(tm), namely

Why is the cinematography is so warm toned compared to the first movie when New Moon is the most depressing book and truly the worst era of Bella’s young life: A Mystery in 2 Hours

At least Pattinson!Edward looks a little better than usual. They put him in these crisp suits. Very nice (Edit: Never mind, that awful Volturi bathrobe with the pasty-ass makeup was horrific yuck, yuck, yuck)

They just had to introduce Jacob this early on, didn’t they? And ofc Bella is much more emotive and gets all the witty dialogue with him (!!). In the books she is much more romantic and wittier with Edward as a whole. Jacob tended to bring out her immature side

“How come Jacob Black gets to give you a gift and I can’t?” “Because I have nothing to give back to you” Nice to know the screenwriter(s) still doesn’t understand the Bedward dynamic. And by nice I mean horrific

…What film version of R&J are they watching??? It’s not the ‘30s version and definitely not the ‘60s or ‘90s one. Is it the ‘70s BBC one? In the book it was the ‘60s version, which is the correct answer. Did they not get the rights? Also, also, why are the human characters much more affected by R&J than Bella and Edward????

“[Romeo] Killed his only love out of sheer stupidity” “Yeah” Oh no, no, no, no, movie, you are not going to make Bella, a close Romeo iteration, agree with Edward!!! Edward is meant to be 100% wrong by his take. Dumbass script!!!

Edward: “Eyes, look your last” 😐 Couldn’t Pattinson just inject a little bit more feeling into his line reading? Most of Edward’s objections were Romeo’s actions, not his suicide. These are the lines Edward can and should relate to.

The movie people garbing the Volturi in 18th century clothing when they are older than the Romans is just laughable

“Dating an older woman. Hot.” Okay, Emmett is 💯, no notes. Definitely erred on the side of frat boy, but you know what, it’s fun and ho boy do these movies lack it

Bella holding up her whole bloody finger in a coven of vampires 💀 Why, movie

Stewart!Bella’s chemistry with almost everyone else in the cast (that scene with Carlisle tending her wound!!!) but Pattinson!Edward confirms what I have known all along: Film and real life chemistry are very different and they shouldn’t be confused. The proof is in the celluloid.

I’m just going to call it: Stewart and Pattinson are modern subtle quirky actors playing what are essentially neo-Gothic star-crossed lover roles. They absolutely should never have been considered for these parts at all by a competent director. Absolutely not fitting at all

“You’re just not good for me.” Hmm, this is what Bella believes about herself, not Edward. I suppose Edward could have done it on purpose, but the fact that he was flabbergasted his lie worked indicates that he doesn’t. Movie just straight up portrays him as more manipulative than in the books, where he just lies baldly

Oh God the months-on-the-screen thing was terrible. This movie fails so much at portraying Bella’s depression, it hurts. It’s like visual SparkNotes

The Bella-writing-to-Alice device sucks. Not too badly, but still. We had her voiceover in the first movie without any problems but for this one, we need a justification? Also, it fuels the Bella/Alice fan dumb something awful

Really dislike the way they did Hallucination!Edward with the ghostly transparent effect. It’s corny and also…way to pass up a chance at some mystery and intrigue by just having Edward be there without any special effects (maybe keep the echoing voice). I guess they really didn’t want people confused and think he returned when he didn’t. But c’mon.

Movie Bella going off with the biker 🤮 Book Bella at her most insane would never. The only good thing about it is that it does lead to Bella having an interest in motorcycles. Efficient movie storytelling and all that.

“Bella, where the hell have you been, loca?” Wonder why this line became so meme-worthy. It’s by far not the worst (“spider monkey” is perhaps the most awful) and Lautner’s delivery was natural enough. Is it the random Spanish? It is random.

Bella is already smiling at her first scene with Jacob…this movie is just awful at selling her desolation. Meanwhile Jacob’s first thought was how awful Bella looked

The Quileute characters are well-cast and nicely played so far, and their banter is good. Emily especially is beautiful and her scar makeup was convincing. Great

Book: “He took off his shirt” Movie: He took off his ~~~~shirt 😍

Laurent’s arrival and his death should have been a much better and weightier scene than we got. God, the pacing is so bad in this movie. Jacob becomes a werewolf, Bella finds the meadow, Laurent suddenly arrives—all within a minute or so. Ugh

“As soon as you put the dog out.” Damn, why, movie? Book Alice did not begin the slurs until she was well and truly angry. But sure, let’s do some really obvious racebaiting 🙄

Whoa, whoa, whoa, Jacob KNEW he was talking to Edward and not Carlisle????? Movie, wtf? And all to save up on some screen time…sigh

Bella: “I can let you go now.” What. The. Fuck. Movie????? Not only could she not let Edward go, Bella never wanted to let him go. That was and had never been her arc!!! She would have gone to Edward regardless of anything!!! I hate this, I hate this oh GOD

No, I’m not done, I need another bullet point for this BS. The whole reason why Twilight was picked up to be adapted in the first place was because Hollywood execs saw “Ooh Romeo and Juliet with vampires 🤑” written all over this one…only for the actual filmmakers to just say, “Actually her whole ~journey this movie is letting go of Edward uwu” Poor Meyer…she just had to grin and bear it until she became the producer, I suppose

*Bella and Edward having a whole-ass conversation and making out* *Felix and Demetri watching in the shadows*: “So…should we interru—” “Don’t you DARE” “Felix” 🤣 I’m sorry, but this whole “I lied I do love you” convo should have been in the bedroom scene proper; there are literal Volturi about!!! Also, also, no “Amazing. Carlisle is right”!!! No Romeo quote!!!! Fie, for shame

Dakota Fanning as Jane…Well, probably not perfection, but she is great as usual. The Volturi got done so dirty overall, though—they look and act like Vampire Diaries rejects.

THAT ELEVATOR SCENE, OH GOD. So much meme potential. Why does this series keep injecting humor and comedy where there shouldn’t be and just ditching the actual humor and comedy of the actual books?????

Again, these Volturi gives me discount Vampire Diaries. Also, that chamber is so damn small. Where is the mystique, the grandiosity?There should be a crowd of vampires around, it’s their dinnertime.

Michael Sheen is just too British for the la tua cantante, lol. He also says something else (“Forse le vostre l’uno per altro”??? The accent is just too thick). He’s way too handsy (movie, they’re regular vampires who are sharks!!) but overall I guess his creepy-genteel approach works. Again, the cringy script fucks him over, as it does everyone. The movie has him touch Edward only now and not immediately when he meets him. Oh, God.

Edward just stumbling forward to Jane’s demonstration on Bella 💀 Jane saying “Pain” and Edward just standing there instead of collapsing 💀 Stewart!Bella freaking out and begging them to stop…actually, no, there she did very well, I liked it

Edward and Felix fighting ewwww…and with that awful slow-mo. What’s with these movies and including non-canonical battle shit???? Also, Aro would not order Bella’s execution if simply because he wants to collect Edward/Alice and Bella once she turns (it’s obvious she is a shield).

Of course fucking Alice speaks up at the very last minute before Aro chomps on Bella!!! When she would have had a vision of this exact scenario!!! This movie I swear!!!

THEY ACTUALLY SHOW THE VISION OF VAMPIRE BELLA, OH GOD. AND WITH THE CORNY SLOW-MO. KILL ME

“Once Alice changes me, you can’t get rid of me.” Okay, Movie Bella is officially more interested in immortality than Edward, the exact opposite of her book counterpart. Dishonor on your cow, Rosenberg.

“Jake, I love you.” Aaaaaand it’s official, the movies are definitely Team Jacob. Fuck you, too, movie

[am-i-sane-probably-not]

:(

I can’t help but think about if im like..IN the Tcc fandom or not. Cause I really hate how, and I really do, how I would see, stuff like “Adam Lanza is in heaven>.<!1!” Or “Eric is so silly(„ಡωಡ„)“ and sometimes I’d give a little chuckle, but most of the time I think to myself and it’s like..I don’t mean to reblog the stuff that id reblog or whatever, cause I feel so guilty for doing it, and feel like a burden. And YES I really do think I need help and therapy, but I can’t or else I’d be afraid if people might judge or tease or dumb shit like that since I was bullied for a little bit a long time ago.

And another thing I’d hate to see would be shit like cute anime girls or whatever that looked like it was drawed in the 2000s style or whatever and say it’s Asuka wearing the shirt Dylan wore to kill, I’d hate that cause I feel so bad for the people that died, and yes sure people bullied the two poor boys; Eric and Dylan, but it’s never the choice to kill them. But what the fuck Am I saying. It’s already happened. And there’s nothing that anyone can do about it, but make a documentary video on it, or saying how you hate how it happened, but then the fucking edgy lowlife people are like “They were so silly:3” or saying the f-slur 24/7, or saying like “Adam Lanza is soo me!1!>.<“ oh yea, so your saying a school shooter that killed CHILDREN, and we’re saying that he defended for pedofhila rights? Oh yea really??that dumb shit. I’ve been really dealing with ALOT of suicide thoughts, and self harming, and it’s getting draining but I can’t pull myself away even when I want to, but I don’t know. I don’t know if I even make sense, I probably sound corny or something, but I just wanted to get this off my chest. I guess.

sorry.

Update: Here funny video:3

[jakowskis]

Day 8 - Are there any scenes (or even full episodes) that you can’t stand? If yes, and you could go back in time and rewrite them, how would you fix them?

LITERALLY HAD TO PUT THIS UNDER THE CUT TOO BC ITS SO LONG FJSDHFKJSDFHKDSJFHKDSJDSHFSDKJFHK I HATE THIS FUCKING SHOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

im not gonna rlly propose fix-its, i just like to bitch. haha. anyway, in no particular order…

the owen & jack jail scene in dmw. it’s sooo frustratingly underwhelming. they had the perfect chance to explore some really interesting stuff with jack + his relationship with his immortality, and to explore the parallels drawn between the two of them, and jack suddenly having someone who might also "live" forever to keep him company… and then they Didn’t. it’s suuuch a let down. and the first half of that scene being ‘light-hearted’ and gross is so irritating and disrespectful to owen. absolutely the wrong tone. that ep pisses me tf off.

i have a lot of issues with owen & jack’s relationship in general. in aditd, when owen tries to drown himself + finds he can’t, and jack’s reaction is to 1) throw a soulless flirty line at him, and 2) ask him “how long he’s gonna do this for”... that scene bugs the fuck out of me. like what the fuck. what a monstrous way to react to someone who’s suicidal. and i’d like it if the show ever bothered to explore why jack seems to view owen’s suicidality with such disdain (because it’s a consistent thing; he’s also callous in combat), like that could also provide insight into his character - but they don’t! ugh! so it just makes him look like a fucking dick and makes me resent him. especially when he’s a lot more sympathetic to john in out of time. like why is he so nasty to owen in particular. fuck knows, they don’t bother touching on it. missed opportunities!!!

and, returning to the way dmw treats owen, i hateeee how he’s treated once he’s dead, by the characters AND the writers. everyone on the team is cruel towards him during his undead arc. they warm up again to him later, but the show itself decides he’s no longer relevant after that + seems to act like all his angst went away and he’s fine again. torchwood SUCKS at emotional continuity. the only time it comes up is that they REPEATEDLY have the antagonist of the episode make a point to remind owen + the viewers how pathetic and useless he is now that he’s dead (the nostravite + the ghostmaker both do it). and it’s just.. corny, and disrespectful, like come on.

actually dead man walking as a whole... i just hate that episode. i talked about it more here, it’s just….. ridiculous, and bad, and embarrassing 😭 i had to skip the fucking fight scene at the end i didn’t have the strength i get secondhand embarrassment too easily HFDJKSHFKDJS. the concept isn’t terrible it’s the fucking execution its sooo… idek how i’d fix that mess. i don’t like it. blegh. and like i said, tw does emotional continuity so poorly, like i don’t really have a question i can fully bitch about this on (well? maybe. we’ll see) but the way they go through significant traumas every ep and the emotional weight of those events is never touched on in the following eps... like the shit in dmw would’ve been a lot for owen to deal with but by aditd he’s got other problems. it’s just… ugh.

and if dmw is the second worst use of bad cgi, we must talk about the first… abaddon. i love end of days so fucking much, the interpersonal shit going on between the team is FASCINATING and so good, the mutiny scene is so good, them all being haunted by their past (aka the events of the past 12 episodes) is so good, for torchwood it’s a GOOD episode - and then there’s this fucking ridiculously embarassing terrible monster from the depths of hell stomping everywhere and roaring and i literally cannot describe how hard i was laughing when i first watched that ep. genuinely hysterical. especially after getting gut-punched like thirty times throughout the rest. and whatever jack did to defeat it... so fucking bad. SO fucking bad. idk what the fuck that was but it was a MESS. and the worst possible way to wrap up the “something’s coming out of the darkness O.O” bullshit (which, they didn’t, that continued into owen’s arc, like cmon…) it was just a shit show. see it’s hard for me to hypothesize about how they coulda fixed that bc it’s so bad but it’s kind of iconic. im kind of glad it’s there bc it’s just… torchwood wouldn’t be torchwood if it wasn’t fucking awful. but also. shudders.

ok ok i swear ill stop complaining abt owen-specific shit but ofc thts what i take most issue with, and a lot of my complaints abt the others are less about specific scenes and more generalized things, so ill talk about them when i talk about their characters… ill talk about this more in owen’s section, but i have… problems with the end of days ending, with the hugs. i like that scene a lot, the connotations are fascinating, but the way owen and jack are framed in it is…. eugh…. and most people miss the fact that it’s ‘eugh’? a lot of people see it as a sweet scene and that’s… oof… again i’ll get into it more later but i wish it was framed differently. torchwood could never make up it’s mind on how it saw the characters, lmao.

adjacent subject… the way jack’s return is framed. i HATE the way they just bounce back to normal once jack comes back. like, him leaving would’ve been fucking traumatizing. and the show doesn’t properly give closure to any of them. (it does a tiny bit to gwen + ianto, but like… owen’s abandonment issues are a consistent theme in the show, esp s1. his ‘did he fix you?’ line is unnecessarily sooo heartbreaking. what do you mean ur not gonna give a single moment to those two. Okay.) tbh a lot of these complaints are about the fact that i desperately wish torchwood was a show that cared about the emotions + mental health of their characters when it simply Is Not. tw is, regrettably, not the character-focused show it should be. and i hate it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

a few last owen specific things…. i hate the owen growling at the weevil scene in combat. like what was the deal with that. they don’t rlly explain it in the commentary either it’s just. ?? but again it’s one of those things thts like. i can’t imagine a world where this show was actually good + didn’t have random weird cringe shit sprinkled in HFKSDJF it’s part of the charm. sigh

also owen & mark shouldve fucked. combat should’ve been gayer.

captain jack harkness should’ve been LESS gay. the excessive tongue kissing was fucking gross FSHDFJKDS like. i know that scene’s important to a lot of people + i respect it as an important moment in queer television + the way it’s framed as this big romantic moment, but the actual kissing is just. gross. why did they have to kiss like that. there are better ways to kiss. sincerely, someone who’s very picky about kisses + still covers my eyes like a kid at like 60% of onscreen kisses. 

tkks stopwatch scene. ianto why are you flirting w the man who killed ur girlfriend four episodes ago. fucking evil. like ok lmao 👍thats not bad writing whatsoever to never explore that in-show and only do it in an audio 10 yrs later. sure.

all of them randomly having empathy for the alien whale in meat has always driven me crazy. i thought we were gonna find out that the whale had like, empathy-enhancing powers or telepathy or smth bc i couldn’t understand why any of those assholes cared sm. like, in tkks we find out the glove is fueled by empathy + that’s why none of them can use it. like, these are people who aren’t naturally empathetic. nothing wrong with that, i’m like that lol. so i was really thrown off when they randomly all deeply cared about an alien creature. especially owen. like, i get randomly being moved by something, happens to the best of us, but the way it affected all of them + so profoundly felt ooc to me and has always bugged me a little. s2 tried so badly to humanize a group that s1 painted as absolute assholes, and i personally LOVE that they’re assholes. i am not the biggest fan of s2, lol.

a lot of tosh scenes bug me, bc the show generally has very little respect for her + her capabilities, but ill get into that more when i talk about her as a character. specifically some of the tosh & owen scenes fucking INFURIATE me. he’s so nasty to her. the end of adam (‘i dont do apologies’ and the smug little smile), and laughing at her when he agrees to the date in reset, and ‘in your dreams, tosh’ in countrycide all stand out. ive complained about it before + ill do it again; idk wtf they were trying to tell the viewers with tosh/owen. i like the concept of the ship, because it has potential - i absolutely HATE it within the context of the show. every ‘towen moment’ just works to humiliate tosh. it’s awful.

killing beth. im sure other people have done essays on the way torchwood treats its poc, esp its woc (although, knowing this fandom, maybe not lmao), and the lisa sitch was enough of a mess… the beth sitch could’ve been done differently. her essentially committing suicide by cop was fucking awful. ugh.

also the twist that suzie was evil + ten steps ahead could’ve been done much better. that should’ve been better written. 

as i said, i dont even like tosh/owen, but the fact that you never see them dance in something borrowed was just plain mean tbh. u can see like a millisecond of a frame if you pause in the right place, but still, why not include a fraction of a nice moment between them. cmon. something like that might’ve actually made me like them more

i hate the blowfish confrontation in kkbb it’s corny. cmon

i bitched about adam a lot the other day (again, here)… idek how i’d get that episode up to my standards. im petty about s2 as a whole and ive been meaning to try to put thought into what would fix it for me for months and i haven’t gotten around to it cuz its such a daunting thought. grr. i think i’d just completely redo the way adam influences them all. i literally don’t like what any of their altered selves offer. there’s no insight into them i find worthwhile. ig the shit abt jack’s past is worth keeping but i’d redo it completely bc i hate the gray arc. i’d have to find some way to keep the conference scene though, or get that new character info + vibe elsewhere. bah

[terresdebrume]

Fic writer interview

Merci pour le tag, @almost-a-class-act ! :D

How many works do you have on AO3?

372 :D

Most are fics, but I do have a little under 30 fic covers hanging around there 😊

What's your total AO3 word count?

988 968 words! My goal this year is to crack the million xD

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Fun fact, this top has not changed in years and my more recent writing habits mean it's unlikely to ever change at this point xD

S.O.S. Ecrits Avec De L’Air (aka SEADLA) an unfinished Tony Stark/Loki fic in which everything starts because Loki stops Tony from commiting suicide.

 We Shall Have Peace, a fic in which Steve Rogers comes out of an 80+ years long captivity to discover Loki turned the earth into a utopia.

Dots: 2-4, 1-2-3, 1-3-6. A fic in which Tony Stark is a university student, and Loki is his blind teacher, and they fall in love.

Wooer Wooed. A fic in which Tony Stark tries to teach Loki how to woo someone and ends up surprised by the results.

Corny Lines For Thanksgiving A fic in which Tony Stark sees Loki iand Thor interact from his office window and mistakes them for a couple.

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes! I like showing my appreciation and it feels more polite :D

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

Say it three times and it will be done, in which Loki sends Tony Stark a very sad letter to tell him he's giving up on him and their not-relationship.

What the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

Oh shit, I've written so many of these xD But I guess I'll go with a top 3:

Clark Kent, of Krypton because it's one of the ones where the protagonist's situation changes the most drastically.

Once more, with kissing because the protag ends in what would probably be my dream configuration for any kind of romantic relationship.

All on my own because it's probably one of the more hopeful endings I have.

Honorable mention to A summer evening in Philly. for being the most recent :P

Do you write crossovers?

Rarely. I did write a Battlestar Galactica x The Walking Dead crossover once for a friend, but that's about it. When I mix fandom, I gravitate more towards fusions :P

The fic is called Killing zombies (and other fun activities), if you're curious.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

I think I got maybe...three angry comments on AO3 so far? One was pissed because the protag hated his stepmother, another was angry that I'd posted negative meta on a ship, and iirc the last one accused me of making a character stupid because they didn't understand a word as a little kid who was communicating in a language that wasn't his first language.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I try my hand at it on occasion x) It's probably not the greatest but so far no one told me it sucked so we'll see how it goes in the future xD

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

If I rememeber correctly there were projects of translation into Chinese and Russian for some of my fics, but I can't recall if they were completed or not xD

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No. I toyed at the idea but it fizzled out, mostly because of me.

What's your all-time favorite ship?

I honestly have never thought of it that way tbh xD

But my two oldest ships are Taichi/Yamato from Digimon Adventure and Hyoga/Shun from Saint Seiya. I've liked those since I was a kid. As in, I first discovered Hyoga/Shun when I was under 10 so.

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

I'm not going to answer that one, I don't want to jinx it xD

What are your writing strengths?

I think I'm good at dialogue and worldbuilding.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I struggle a little more with description, and also The Doing Of The Sex. Also I sometimes worry that I do the writing equivalent of same-facing my characters, but I guess it might also be because I have A Type.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

More often than not, saying "[x] said in German" or "[x] switched to Italian" is more than enough. It's clear, concise and avoids the two main risks of foreign dialogues: losing the readers who don't understand the target language and (if you're not fluent yourself) making a grammar mistake that takes readers who are more fluent than you out of the story. (Example: I've recently stumbled across a Band of Brothers fic where Liebgott used Sie to address Webster. Sie is a formal form of address, which I guarantee Lieb wouldn't use for his fellow soldiers, especially not Web, and so seeing it made be tick hard even if I didn't spontaneously understand the rest of the sentence.)

That being said! All rules are made to be broken, and I've written a fic that was intentionally in 3 different languages and another where a significant chunk of the dialogue is just em dashes with footnotes. In the first case, I used the script format and the language juxtaposition to mimick the sort of humor you'd get from a more fast-pace, visual medium like a movie or show (and also because I enjoyed the idea of a fic that was a bit of an in-joke with readers who mostly understood all three languages).

In the second case, I used the em-dashes (intersped with the few words the POV character understands) to force the reader into the protagonist' shoes, because the whole plot revolves around her distress and frustration about being unable to understand the language her family speak.

So, you know. Do what you want x)

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

It was a very, very intense plagiaristic fic for Lord of the Rings but with Harry Potter style wizards. I don't think it was very good, but I rememeber having fun with it.

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

For a long time, that fandom was Digimon Adventure but I've done it now so... non, for now, I think x)

What's your favorite fic you've written?

... I'm gonna cheat and link you to my AO3 porfolio for my top 11 :P

Tagging : @takingoffmyshoes, @kyttwrites, @nemainofthewater, @ghostinthelibrarywrites, @liesmyth and @talysalankil :)