#these clowns always pretend they don’t get it until you ask them

[labyrynth]

I normally just leave opinions as 'if we disagree we disagree' but I found your post comparing the golden core transfer and consent in remarkably bad taste. I don't care how passionate you are about this fictional book comparing the real fucking trauma rape victims have gone through the shit we have experienced to fictional xianxia surgery is so so disrespectful rape victims are more important then a fucking fictional consent argument. Thanks.

i had to go back and search for what the fuck you’re talking about, bc initially i thought you were talking about this post and i was like ??? and then i realized you probably meant the initial tags on this other post (which…there’s a reason it wasn’t in the actual post, which was a salt/rant post to begin with.)

sorry you found my off the cuff rant in response to some of the abhorrent things people have said about consent while trying to argue that wwx was 100% in the right (see the aforementioned posts), and my comparison of a horrific violation of consent, agency, and bodily autonomy to *checks notes* a different but also horrific violation of consent, agency, and bodily autonomy to be in poor taste but like. not actually.

bc i personally find it to be in poor taste when a fictional character lies to someone whose agency and bodily autonomy was violated and was traumatized by the experience in order to get them to “agree” to another violation of agency and bodily autonomy (but it’s fictional, so whatever.)

but i find it in even poorer taste for real life people to claim that actually that character did nothing wrong; consent was given and there was no violation. or if there was a violation, it’s his own fault, and he should have known better.

bc it’s true that fictional xianxia surgery doesn’t exist, but consent, agency, and bodily autonomy DO, and if real people have used their real world judgement to conclude that THIS situation was consensual—especially if they bend over backwards, unironically using the same arguments used to discredit survivors of rape to argue as such—that’s a red flag.

[unstable-samurai]

Until You're Mine (Jealous Girlfriend) - smut

Momo x Male Reader

Word Count: 4k

Tags: toxic relationship, jealous girlfriend, non-linear story, possessive girlfriend, first sex, penetration, boobjob, facial

She was awake when he arrived. She heard the door latch turn twice as it was unlocked. There were always two turns, fast and firm. Y/N saw her lying on the couch, watching another animated movie. It was the kind of movie she looked for when she really needed to be distracted, her escape valve or something, so seeing her there in front of the TV close to midnight (it was much later than that, but he had no idea), turned on na emergency light in his mind.

Normally he was the owl of that house.

“Hey baby, why’re you still awake?” he asked. “I said you didn’t have to wait for me.”

“I just felt like watching a Studio Ghibli film. Only that.” She explained without looking at him.

No fucking way it was just that. She was frowning. One of those moments where Momo turned into a bomb and it was up to Y/N to disarm it without it exploding. The problem was that this was an impossible task to do, any wire he cut would result in an explosion. And that was the last thing he wanted. His head was already a battlefield in itself. That damn company party had exhausted his social battery, which wasn’t much anyway. Y/N didn’t have the courage to provoke an aerial bombardment that night.

"OK. Is the film already close to the end? I can see it with you.”

He sat on the left end of the sofa, Momo didn't mind moving his legs so he could have more space.

“Did you have fun there?” she asked.

"Yes. Was cool."

"Just that? No details?" she questioned him quite insistently.

“You’re watching the movie, I don’t want to disturb you. In the morning I’ll tell you everything.”

Y/N had his head focused on the bath he was going to take in a while and how he was going to sink his head into the pillow. No more plastic masks, fake laughs, shallow people, please.

She paused the movie.

“What a ridiculous excuse. It sounds like you were trying to hide the things that happened at the party.”

“No, it doesn’t sound…” He was almost sure of it.

“Yes it does, you bastard.”

“It wasn’t even a party. We were all among work colleagues.”

“I've been to enough parties to know that it was YES a party. Loud music, drinks, pool, snacks. The complete package.”

“It’s a damn modern company, okay? They please the employees and pretend to be cool so that we forget the slavery we are subjected to on a daily basis. You kids had fun on Saturday and you’ll work overtime on Monday, okay?”

“Wait, I made a mistake. In fact: VIP package. They even hired prostitutes. Five star service.”

“Are you high or what?”

He was too tired to read the signs.

“I saw the way she kept touching you. The giggles... As if you were the funniest clown on the planet and she was a fucking hyena.”

Y/N abruptly stood up from the couch. He had finally understood everything. The last spark of his neurons, probably.

“There were no prostitutes. And I wasn't chatting up with any girls.”

"Oh, really?" She stood up too. “Let me refresh your memory, dear: short black hair, horse smile, lilac dress, can't stand alone unless she's supported by a man, small tits... Seriously, I don't know why she decided to wear that dress with cleavage if there was nothing there to show. Someone should tell her the truth. So, does this remind you of anyone, my love?”

The fucking bomb exploded in his hand.

“That was Rachel, a friend from work. How the hell did you see what was going on at the party?”

Momo laughed sadistically. Her wickedly beautiful eyes looked at him with intensity as she asked:

“Are you afraid?”

"No. I didn't do anything wrong to get scared. Did someone record me at the party?”

"Yes. And it wasn't just that. I also saw the stories of those who were at the party and you appeared in some of them in the corners. I saw everything.”

‡

Here's a little overview of this relationship: A year and a half of dating. They met through mutual friends and the first deep contact was delayed, but when it happened it ended up becoming a path of no return. Y/N avoided her as much as he could, not in a way that would be noticeable and make him seem rude. But we were talking about an incredibly beautiful woman, aware of her attractiveness and unfettered by modesty. She was with a group of eight other beautiful and popular girls. Yes, she was elite. High caliber, my friend. Well, he was... quiet, an avid reader, calm and sometimes melancholic, but he loved being with his friends and enjoying them on the weekends, respecting his limits, of course. When he saw Momo for the first time he cowardly ignored her. She looks stunning in front of his eyes, wearing a short denim skirt, a baby tee that leaves her sculpted abs on display and her hair flowing in the wind as she dances. There was no way to predict that the plan would backfire; by not noticing her, Y/N became one of the few guys who didn't try to flirt with her. Apathetic guy, but handsome enough to take risks, the little boy who only swims in the shallow end, a plastic armor he forced himself to wear.

The reason? Momo didn't know, but she wanted to find out.

On one of the many night outs where they bumped into each other, Momo skillfully simulated an intimacy that clearly didn't exist between them, talking to Y/N closely, fake accidental touches, and killer eye contact. Abruptly, intimacy between them was forged and evolved in a short space of time. After a while it was no longer strange when they were among friends and Momo sat on his lap, or when she felt tired and rested her head on his shoulder. And Y/N could play hard to get, but he loved the attention he got from Momo, the controversial “bad bitch” (as some girls who didn't like Momo called her), the most attractive girl he knew was always glued to him, and the sexual chemistry that grew over time intoxicated his ego. Being with her made him feel good and more confident and also… shit, she was more than a superficial person or 'just another one of those teasing girls' like a lot of guys used to think. She had a unique way, attitude and things to say too.

‡

“Were you acting like a stalker all night? Seriously, watching stories of other people trying to see me from the corners is a fucking weird thing.”

“And you've been acting like you don't have a girlfriend all night? I almost called Jihyo to drive me to this party to say a few things to that bitch. But I’m not that kind of girlfriend.”

“What is the reason we are arguing? This shit doesn't make sense. I'm exhausted..."

“Have you forgotten your promise? You told me you would arrive early...”

“I didn’t look at the time when I was there. I thought it was still early when I was leaving the party.”

A cynical laugh escaped Momo's mouth.

“You didn't even bother to look at your fucking cell phone to see the time. What is your problem?"

Y/N sighed. He should have already known that going to this party wouldn't be a good idea.

“You know I only went to the party to establish some contacts with the other branch. The damn job forces me to maintain a good relationship with everyone.”

"Poor boy! Does it also force you to talk to sluts?”

"This again?!”

“A little bird told me you were too close to each other on the couch.”

“Who was this damn person?”

“Why blow the heroine’s cover? Maybe she’ll be there again at the next parties.”

“Would you like it if I hired someone to follow you around?”

"Go ahead. I have nothing to hide, because I have consideration and respect for you, asshole!”

“According to you, I cheated you just by sitting on a couch talking to a co-worker. A colleague who can help me move up in the company as she has just been promoted.”

“Apparently it’s not just at work where she likes to be promoted.”

"What do you want from me?" he asked, feeling defeated.

"You know what I want."

“Honestly, I don't know. God must be punishing me for some sin I committed, that’s the only explanation.”

“Make me your girlfriend or your tormentor. You decide." She took a step forward. “You know I could be with anyone. But I'm with you ‘cause I love you, silly.”

If only there wasn't something genuine about it all.

‡

Being alone with her knocking down topic after topic like dominoes was so fucking enjoyable, the way she laughed, the way she listened to him (Momo didn't interrupt him even during the long pauses he took when he needed to organize his line of reasoning, a mere peculiarity of his but which never went under her radar), the way she could be incredibly silly at times and, even without sharing many common interests, Momo liked having him explain things that were previously uninteresting to her. This attention he received was blinding and addictive. Growing up in a harmful and neglectful home, neediness was his compass and his weakness. But he never showed signs. Y/N was good at disguising it... He thought so.

Their first sex was an unforgettable moment, a path of no return, in the same way that a criminal remembers the moment of the crime that sentenced him to prison. It occurred when they were on a camping trip, good friends gathered, each to their own tent, campfire, marshmallows, snacks, stupid horror stories, and wine. One of the few moments where he felt slightly intimidated around her, as he felt Momo watching him like a predator, and after each glass of wine she became more and more intoxicated, grabbing Y/N from behind and wrapping her arms around him. “It’s very cold here” she whispered in his ear. And Y/N couldn't tell if it was the wind or Momo's velvety voice so close to him that made him shiver.

The hours passed incredibly quickly, eventually everyone retreated to their tents, and eventually there was a slow cessation of the noises of people, finally leaving only the cold whistle of the wind, the rustle of leaves in the trees that surrounded the hill where they were camped and the symphony of insects orchestrated by crickets and cicadas.

He heard sneaky footsteps. It was certainly someone who needed to take a piss and didn't want to wake the others. But the footsteps got louder and louder until he noticed that someone was actually coming to his tent, stopping in front of the entrance. The flash on his cell phone was on (he was reading a book and the damn camp lamp was emitting a horrible orange light), so he pointed the light at the entrance of the tent and saw a very familiar silhouette.

“It’s me, Momo. Let me in!" she whispered. "Quickly!"

Y/N lowered the zipper, opening the way for her.

“What are you doing up?” he asked.

“I was sleepless so I decided to come and check on you.”

"I am well thanks."

She was wearing comfortable clothes. Striped pajama pants, a sweatshirt that was too big on her and her hair loose and messy. Y/N noticed that Momo had removed her makeup. It was the first time he had seen her like that.

"What are you reading?" Momo asked as she sat down.

“Tropic of Cancer, by Henry Miller.”

"Cool! What is it about?!"

How the hell was he going to explain this?

“About a guy living in Paris.”

"It seems good. Read a chapter to me.”

"How old are you?"

“Don’t be annoying. Let's do it like this: I point the cell phone's flash at the book and you hold it while you read to me. This way we can read lying down.”

Hard to refuse, hard to say 'no' to her.

‡

“You know I love you too, Momori.” he said

Momo was wearing his long-sleeved shirt, she loved that shirt and, truth be told, it looked incredibly good on her. The legs so sensually exposed... Was that still a discussion?

“Sometimes you make me doubt this love, baby. Do you like making me look crazy? I swear to God you love seeing me jealous. When I get like this, does it make you horny?”

“No” he lied to one of the questions.

“You know how I am, Y/N.” One more step forward. She could touch him if she wanted. “And I only ask one thing: don’t talk to other girls. We establish a limit and then cross it, what is the purpose?”

Now closer he could smell her, her body that was warmed by the blanket. Nipples hardened through the fabric of her clothing.

“You look so beautiful...” he blurted out of her mouth.

“But I don’t think I’m beautiful enough for you since you try to be with other girls when I’m not around.”

"Is not true. I only have eyes for you, Momori.”

With a decisive gesture she grabbed Y/N by the collar of his social shirt. A noise escaped his mouth. Slowly she ordered:

“Say you are mine. Say you belong to me.”

‡

He felt her head moving on his chest, he thought she was just looking for a comfortable position, until he was surprised by a kiss on the neck. And another one. And another, and they were getting more and more intense.

"What are you doing?" he asked as he lowered the book, the air escaping from her mouth.

“This book is really interesting and even put me in the mood to do something more fun.”

"What are you talking about?"

He had his hands pressed into Momo's arms, but he made no real effort to push her away.

“I know what you think about me. I know what you want from me. Don’t try to hide it now.” Her voice breathy and wavering. “I want to fuck you so bad, fuck!”

"Here?"

"Now!”

Y/N turned Momo around, placing her back on the floor and then getting on top of her.

“Momo…” His head was a hurricane. Was this really happening? “I've imagined the two of us doing this, but I never thought it could actually happen.”

There was a pause that was filled by a kiss.

“I don’t think you know how hot you are. Other girls were also eyeing you, so I decided to act quickly.”

Y/N lifted Momo's sweatshirt, and was able to appreciate and touch her abs for the first time. Kissing her abdomen was like an achievement, she knew how beautiful it was, that's why she never made a point of hiding it. The soft, slightly sweaty skin met his lips in a mix of sensations.

He lifted her sweatshirt a little more, exposing her juicy boobs. They were big, he knew that, but the first glimpse paralyzed him for an instant, he was amazed, and his hand filled with desire wasted no time in grabbing one of the tits while his mouth sucked the other..

“Oh, Y/N” she moaned.

The cell phone's flashlight went out as they rolled from side to side in the camping tent. Surrounded by the weak orange light of the camp lantern, the senses now seemed more heightened, the touches more intense and brazen, the breathing more labored and an uncontrollable lust, noticeable in several ways, such as Momo's pussy that wet his fingers when he touched her down there.

‡

“I belong to you” he declared. “Is that what you wanted to hear? I am only yours, Momori.”

She smiled satisfied.

"Sit down!" she exclaimed harshly, and pushed him onto the couch. Momo certainly knew how to impose herself when she wanted, the mechanism of submitting him to her will through horny never failed. Sitting on his lap, she said: “You like to make me suffer, you know that? You like having your girlfriend mad so she can have hard sex with you and get you back on track. So depraved, baby!”

It was partly true, although he wasn't consciously acting to make her jealous. The problem was that this wasn't a difficult task, the girl was possessive as hell, so the options fluctuated between becoming a puppy on a leash or floating on the waves of a tide that could occasionally get... Aggressive.

"Do not say that. I don’t like making you feel bad.”

She kissed him, she felt Y/N getting excited down there.

“And yet you hurt me.”

He couldn't refute it, so her tongue had another use; warm and wet, she played with Momo's tongue. She sighed when he lightly bit her lower lip, slowly removing the pressure, enjoying her taste like a professional taster.

“It was never my intention,” he said. “Your jealousy is sick.”

“Living with you is hell, you know that?” she revealed. “But you always make me feel so surrendered." Momo slowly touched her nose to Y/N's. She whispered: "It’s a fucking hell, baby.”

Instead of responding, he decided to dedicate a series of kisses to her neck. Momo loved it, it was her weakness. She smiled while letting out small moans of satisfaction.

Momo stroked his dick and under the fabric of his underwear and pants he was already completely hard, waiting for her. She rubbed her hand on his dick eagerly while he felt her breasts and left hickey marks on her neck.

“Oh baby, I want your cock in my pussy so bad!”

‡

He covered her mouth with his hand while he penetrated her deeply. The friends' camping tents were close to Y/N's, and Momo was moaning loudly, so it wouldn't be difficult to hear her in the silence of the night.

“Shhh! You can’t make noise like that!” he said breathlessly.

“It’s fucking hard. Your dick is really big.”

At one point she crossed her legs around Y/N's waist and he could feel her pussy getting tighter and wetter. Immediately Y/N laid his body under hers, penetrating her with force, feeling her pussy swallow his cock eager for pleasure. She moaned loudly, Y/N sucked on her tongue in an attempt to suppress some of the noise, Momo's eyes rolling back in pleasure as her legs tightened around him, pulling him deeper, as if she could never have him inside enough. Each thrust was an explosion of raw sensation, her insides wetting his cock urgently as he fucked her with wild love, each movement driven by desire that had been postponed for too long.

“Lie on your side!” Y/N asked.

He watched her with burning lust, his eyes fixed on her pert ass, eager to possess her in a different way. With one quick movement, he positioned himself behind her, his cock pulsing with anticipation as he slid in, feeling enveloped by the warm wetness of her wet pussy. He gripped Momo tightly, his hands marking her skin as he fucked her sideways, each thrust sending waves of electric pleasure throughout her body. Momo's moans filled the air, soft and sweet, mixing with the sounds of the wet friction his dick made as it slid inside her. All the touches, the intimate conversations, the looks that met and lost each other when they were in the circle of friends, the jealousy they hid from each other when one of them was talking to someone else, all these things led them to this moment , and now they assumed this feeling… making love.

Momo showed some of her talent when she rode his dick with her back to him, Y/N's body rippling with desire as she rode him with full force. Her hips moved with an erotic cadence, his cock disappearing inside her with each thrust as if he were plunging into a warm ocean. He squeezed Momo's fat ass, guiding her movements as she gave herself over to the frenzy of sex, her moans intensifying with each thrust – fuck if anyone would hear. The tension between them was palpable, the air in the tent stifling as they neared their climax. And then, finally, Momo squirted, her body shaking with the intensity of her orgasm, as Y/N watched her in wonder in the light of the camp lantern, her silhouette writhing with pleasure, so perfect, so sensual that he could fill her of cum at that moment.

Something he didn't do.

Things happened so fast that Y/N didn't have time to put on a condom. Well, truth be told, he DID NOT have a condom in his tent (not the kind of thing you think about taking on a camping trip with friends when you're a single guy).

“Cum for me, baby” she asked, her voice full of lust. “Where do you want to cum?”

“On your tits.”

It was one of Y/N's fantasies, it usually came to his mind when he saw Momo with cleavage. Now it all seemed so intentional...

Y/N stood on top of Momo, his desire burning so strong he could barely think straight. With shaking hands, he grabbed Momo's massive boobs, feeling his hard-on grow as he squeezed them tightly. Y/N wanted to feel every inch of that soft flesh surrounding his thick cock, he wanted to sink into that delicious sensation until he lost his mind. And then, without further hesitation, he began to move frantically, sliding his hard cock between Momo's breasts with great desire. Loud moans echoed through the tent as he gave in to the pleasure of that sensation, losing himself in the sensation of heat and pressure.

“You gonna cum for me, huh?” she asked between moans, making a point of maintaining latent eye contact while smiling naughty.

“Yeah, I'm gonna cum for you, baby! You're gonna make me cum, Momo.”

“please please, cum for me!! Yeah! Cum for your naughty babygirl...” she begged, hot as fuck, while biting her lower lip like a horny bitch.

And when Y/N finally reached the edge he let out a primal groan, his orgasm exploding in a hot shot over Momo's boobs and face. She looked so beautiful like that in the light of the camp lamp. Y/N brushed her face with his dick, making a nice mess on that adorable little face, and she smiled while this happened, Momo smiled until he finished his art, she finished the job by licking what was left on the head of his dick.

Uninhibited from any shyness, thanks to the endorphins his brain had released, he smiled at her, finding her the most beautiful woman in the world, and into Momo's precious eyes, Y/N confessed: 'I wanna love you.’

‡

It's common to look for culprits in a dysfunctional relationship, who manipulates who, the prisoner and the jailer and all that old story. It's hard to admit that sometimes there is a dark pleasure in predicting events, returning to the same place that is your refuge and your sentence. Most people shoot at "emotional dependence", but few dare to target "connivance". Y/N felt like he was part of the second option. Repeat the fucking pattern, see the wheel spin in the same direction, the same trip as before. It's your pit of lies and acceptance, man, you smell the stench and yet you insist on moving forward, it's not much different than a dog licking its own vomit. At the end of the day, no one will tell you that you deserve better.

If you really deserve it.

"I remember what you said to me that night in the camping tent." She whispered, lying under his chest. "When we had sex for the first time. 'I wanna love you'. That's what you said. Your voice was so sweet and calm. I think that's when I realized that my feelings for you were really special."

The two were snuggled in bed, protected from the cold by the blankets, completely naked after having sex. This was always how fights ended, and the question that arose was: what's the next thing, now? An apology? Unfounded promises about how to improve as a person? Affectionate words to dissolve what was said during the fight? It was a mystery box.

"Those were the words? I honestly don't remember the exact words clearly."

"That's exactly what you told me. I slept with you in the camping tent feeling very happy."

"I was happy to be with you too."

"But at that time I didn't realize that you were actually still trying to fall in love with me. You wanted to love me, but you didn't really love me yet."

"I was a little confused at that time."

"What now? Are you still trying to love me?"

"I love you, Momori. but at the same time... I don't think we work together.”

"We agreed to it then. And honestly, does it matter?"

"I don't know. I feel like it doesn't matter anymore."

"Yeah! And look, we're not the only couple to go through problems like this. We're not alone in this, baby. Forget that Hollywood bullshit about perfect couples. It's not real. It's okay for me to stay like this, as long as we stay together."

"We always fix things."

"Making love is a great way to solve problems. That's our formula."

"Come here, my love" he said.

A/N: sorry for any grammar errors 🖖

[rosemarycovet]

In my room- billy loomis x reader

(billys pov)

“are you gonna let me in?

“hello?helllooo?”I heard tapping from my window knowing exactly who it was

I was trying not the drift off in class as stu rambled about some nonsense when 2:45 the bell went off

thank god I thought to my self I got up and quickly left the class room speed walking through the halls with my head held low

I didn’t bother acknowledging anyone

many people think i’m odd just because I keep to my self I only talk to stu and our ‘friend group’

which are other people I don’t consider worthy of my time

but I mostly walk alone

avoiding girls that gush over me and the pathetic boys at school trying to start small talk with me

as I walk out the school building I avoid the sunlight with my chalky tone

some may say i’m a gaslighter and manipulative which they aren’t wrong

with my ‘piercing eyes’

I get home I don’t say anything

like there’s anyone to greet ain’t no one there

my mother had abandoned me

and my father is barely ever home,I don’t care.I walk in and right up stairs to my room

I go straight to bed take a quick nap and just wait patiently until dark because that’s when the real show starts

———————

‘Tap tap tap’

———————

I hear from my window I smirk knowing exactly who it is

I see her

(y/n).my baby is what I like to call her

she’s as beautiful as ever as she gives me a sweet soft smile

she’s young and pretty

she comes to my room and we talk at night

she’s demonic and bloody in my eyes

but she holds me tight every night i’m in my bedroom with her i’m never alone

and I kiss her cold lips until morning comes then she’s gone and i’m off

but she only exists in the dark of my room

as me and my ‘friends’ are sitting at the fountain for lunch I sit next to stu as randy sits in the middle of stu and tatum and Sidney is next to tatum

god how much I hate Sidney she’s the reason my mom left me

yet she doesn’t even know

I kept catching her staring at me yet pretended as if I didn’t notice

I know she likes me it’s obvious

but my feelings are the opposite for her

I wish she would die

I wish I could kill her right now

I have planned to kill her with the rest of the group but making stu my partner

there’s so much of sidney I can’t stand same with the rest of them as they talk about meaningless stuff

and all I can think about is my love

I’d do anything for her

as me and her laid in my bed I do adore her as I said before I’d do anything for her and it’s always in my room that we’re the closes

I try to smile but i’m always frontin

but I do love her and at least that’s something.She doesn’t talk much but when she does it gets cold

usually we just lay there and we hold eachother

we’re lovers we don’t need others

certainly i’m all she needed and she is everything I need I don’t need anyone else but her

one night one of my mother’s cat that she also had abandoned had jumped up on the covers

and it scared my baby,cause she don’t like pets.

she had scrambled out of the room

It had made my blood boil that the cat had frighten my baby so I twisted it’s fucking head of its neck

“look baby it’s bloody it’s gone it’s doomed” I had cried out to her

“please come back to the room..don’t ignore me” I begged her

this was more than a sick love story

If she was ever to leave me or was left with out her I’d bring a gun shot to school

and I will for any reason if she wants me to

I hate it that she has to leave when the light comes on and if I had it my way the fucking sun would be gone

sometimes when we’re kissing I start shaking when she slips me that tongue it taste like bacon

she looks sad

uh-oh something wrong.my baby’s upset

“baby what’s wrong?” I asked her as I tuck a strain of her hair behind her ear

“billy one of the neighbors kid had spotted me sneaking in and now I can’t come back cause they know our secret”

unless I can make them keep it if I do she’ll still be able to come

the next day i’m in their backyard as I slipped my ghost face costume on with a shotgun and knife

cut the screen,I went and found the kid

blew a blow of spaghetti to the side of it’s head Then their daddy was next he ran down the hall as I chased after him he was quick to fall as I shredded his throat.

I gripped the knife and started stabbing the shit out of his wife

after Is was done with them I went back home a bloody mess still in my ghostface costume with a job well done

as I washed up in the sink and but the bloody costume in the washing machine waiting for baby to come

like I said I do anything for her

I waited and and hated for 3-4 hours to hear her tapping

then finally she arrived as always she had a soft smile on her face as I held a smirk

“baby I got rid of them you don’t have to worry”

she stared at me a bit surprised

“you got rid of them?..for me?”

“of course baby I’d do anything for you”

she smiled and ran up to me as I picked her up and took her in my room

[cult-of-the-eye]

Tim Stoker angst anyone?

Tap tap tap. His foot knocked against the floor, knee pressing against the table in those precious seconds of contact. Veins fizzed beneath his skin, pulling taut as if it was just about to break. Something clawed at his gut, pressure but not the good kind. It wasn’t right. None of it was right. Forces inside him pulled, pushed, pressed and grated until he was sure someone would find his remains splattered over the desk. 

At least they’d find them, he thought, miserably. Maybe that was his issue. He had never been good at pinning down his whirlwind of thought, racing past his synapses too fast to register. “What’s wrong?”, was always the most evasive. There was one constant though, one corner of his brain that was enlarged and raw, a locked chest made of a human heart. Danny. Most of his problems he could blame on Danny, it just took him an unfortunate amount of time to get there. Amidst shallow breaths and screaming muscles, introspection was far from his priority. 

“Tim?”

“Heugh. Yeah?”

Jon ignored his taut outburst of breath. Jon was very good at ignoring things.

“Are you alright?”

“I don’t know, Jon. Does it look like I’m alright? Do I look okey-dokes to you?”

He didn’t feel bad dumping sarcasm on Jon, despite him reacting like it was a bucket of ice-cold water. He didn’t notice the slight widening of his eyes. Nope. 

“Ok. I apologise for interfering.”

He turned to leave, head hung. How could an angle of a neck enrage him so much? It felt good, satisfying deep within his bones to mitigate pressure with another volcanic one. 

“Of course. Jon gets to have the moral high ground for checking in on his employees.”

“I don’t see what you’re implying.”

“Oh fuck off Jon. I mean that from the bottom of my heart. You don’t give a flying fuck about me and my well-being and if you did, well, that time is very much gone. Everyone’s gone, Jon and all you’ve done is shut yourself in your goddamn office and convince yourself that you’re all alone. You wouldn’t have been all alone if you had just talked to me. But you didn’t so all you have left is fucking creepy clown shit.”

The anger rose in his throat, almost choking on it. He stood from his desk, a sudden boost of dizzying energy. 

“So no. You don’t get to come back and pretend you care. You don’t get to ask how I am. You wanted to do this yourself? Well, be my fucking guest. Go get killed. Go get skinned by evil circus mannequins for all I care. Just leave me alone.”

His hands were bright red. All the blood rushed from his head into his palms, making them uncomfortably moist. The pounding that reverberated throughout his entire body was gone, leaving an absence, a double beat of a heart stretched thin. Jon could have left. He could have shouted back. He could have strode over and slapped him across the face. But he stood there, frozen, a look of deep sadness etched across his features. It ran a palm over his oversensitive veins, making him shudder with discomfort. 

“I’m sorry, Tim. And happy birthday…to Danny, I mean.”

With that, his legs gave out. He crashed back onto the chair, hoping the desk could cool his flushed face. He was back to an emotion he was comfortable with, one that he knew all too well. Thoughts collided like particles in a gas - he barely noticed Jon slip out of his vision. He was gone. And once again, Tim was alone. 

[havendance]

World Gone MAD

AO3

Fandom: Batman, DCU

Featured Characters/Relationships: Dick & Tim

Wordcount: 5600

Summary:

Ask the GCPD about the Joker’s death and they’ll tell you he died of natural causes. Ask the Justice League and they’ll tell you that it’s a matter that has been resolved internally. Ask Batman and he won’t give you an answer because he’s Batman. The truth of the matter, however, is this: Dick Grayson beat the Joker to death.

[Or: A few months after the death of the Joker, Tim Drake comes to Haly’s Circus, looking for Dick Grayson.]

I am hyped to be finally sharing this fic with you all :) Inspired by this tumblr post by @mzminola, with special shoutout to the addition by @silverwhittlingknife, and tags from @avaraydrake.

I've also taken some liberties with the Justice League and how it operates. While ‘8 guys (gender neutral) who get together on the weekends and beat up aliens’ works for the comics, personally I think ‘self-governing group of powerful individuals’ is a much more interesting concept to work with. As such, I have expanded both the membership and scope of the Justice League (at least from what they were for this particular era of comics).

Excerpt:

Stepping into Haly’s Circus felt like stepping into the past. Surrounded by the hustle and bustle — people talking, hawkers shouting, the whir and buzz of the machines, music blasting over it all — Tim could almost pretend he was a boy again. For a moment, he closed his eyes. The summer air was thick and humid, smelling of sugar and sweat, mud and animals. For a moment he was 13, a boy with two living parents who had never been Robin, who was convinced that if he just found Dick Grayson, all of Gotham’s problems would be solved.

He’d been so naive then.

The moment ended. Tim blinked, reoriented himself in the golden light of the setting sun, and started to make his way to the ticket stand. This whole trip had been a return to his roots: stalking Dick Grayson across the country with nothing more than his wits and a bus schedule. He hadn’t been surprised when it had ended in the same place it had begun. But this wasn’t— it wasn’t the same thing. He wasn’t here to fix Gotham, to fix Batman. He was done with that. This was something different.

He bought a ticket and went in.

The circus was fun. Nobody died, or almost died, which was a nice change of pace from the last couple times Tim had gone. He spent most of the time tuning out the whispered conversation from the group of teenagers sitting in front of him, and playing “Where’s Dick?” Tim thought he might have spotted him as one of the clowns again until he came out on the trapeze, and then, well, then it was obvious.

Tim wished he’d brought his camera. Watching Dick fly, anyone could tell he belonged in the air.

—

The facts of the matter are as follows:

On March 22nd, 10:21 pm, the Joker’s location was determined to be Gotham Cathedral. A force-field of unknown origin surrounding the building prevented law enforcement from pursuing him.

At 11:48 pm, Nightwing entered the building. The force field remained up and law enforcement continued to surround the building.

Around roughly midnight, March 23rd, the forcefield dropped and law enforcement entered. According to official reports, inside were found the Joker’s dead body and two other jokerized villains. The two living villains were quickly apprehended and administered the antidote. The Joker’s death itself was ruled to be due to natural causes, likely linked to the terminal growth in his brain. 

Unofficial reports put between two and five vigilantes in the building at the time the police entered and that the Joker’s end appeared to be rather more violent in nature. When pressed, all agree that the official ruling of natural causes was correct. (If you get them drunk enough first, in a quiet enough location, then they might give you a different answer, but that always involves urban legends and rumors. The sorts of things that don’t hold up in the light of day.)

Access to classified Justice League files reveal the following additional details:

On March 16th, 9:30 am, the Joker was informed that a brain scan had revealed a terminal mass in his brain. Prognosis suggested he had less than a month to live. The Joker took in this information and decided he wanted to go out with a bang. Later investigation uncovered that the brain tumor was in fact a hoax created by a doctor out for revenge. As by that point, the Joker was already dead, from what were determined to be natural causes, the decision was made that this information would remain classified.

The Joker entered Gotham at an unknown time on March 22nd. Joker gas was released at Arkham Asylum at 4:42 pm on the same day. According to recovered comm records, Oracle sent Robin to investigate Arkham Asylum at roughly 10:30 pm. She lost contact with him at 10:48 pm, shortly after he entered the building, at which point she called in Huntress for backup. Robin was reported dead by Huntress at 11:21 pm.

In his confession, Nightwing stated that he overheard news of Robin’s death,  and then immediately stole Black Canary’s bike and raced to the Cathedral. (Black Canary corroborated this fact.) Upon arrival, he attacked and killed the Joker. Robin arrived shortly after, followed by Batman, Huntress, and Spoiler.

Robin’s confession gave the following sequence of events: Upon entering Arkham Asylum, he was attacked by various jokerized inmates. In the struggle, his uniform was torn, later leading his allies to believe him dead. He was captured and brought to the Joker who attacked him. He fought back and the Joker was killed in the struggle. Shortly afterwards, Nightwing arrived and decided to take the fall for him.

Batman and Huntress both testify to the following facts: They arrived to find Nightwing and Robin already there and the Joker dead. Batman ordered Huntress to attempt to revive the Joker through CPR. This failed and the Joker was declared dead upon the entrance of the authorities.

Oracle did not testify, but submitted audio logs from the night as evidence. Interference due to the barrier around the cathedral, damage to the comm devices, and standard issues with Gotham architecture rendered large chunks of it unusable.

Spoiler was unable to be reached for testimony.

— 

The truth of the matter is this: Every man has a breaking point. Even the best man will cross their line in the sand if pushed far enough. Sometimes you fail to do the right thing.

Nightwing walked into Gotham Cathedral that night and beat the Joker to death.

Continue reading on AO3!

[starsstuddedsky]

Spending Halloween with Seventeen

summary: how you spend halloween with each member of seventeen <3

a/n: happy halloween!!! i love halloween and i hope everyone is having fun and being safe! enjoy these lil imagines (one of these may turn into a full story one day ehehehehehehe)

warning: sickening fluff ahead

Seungcheol

He really should have said no when you asked, but everyone else (minus seokmin who had a brain) was going and he couldn’t say no to you when you clearly wanted to go, so he found himself in the haunted house trying to pretend he wasn’t a giant coward because it was only your third date. Loses the act at the first jumpscare, except you do too and the rest of the house is spent being shuffled forward by your friends because neither of you will let go of each other. Once free, you both swear never to do that to yourselves again. 

Jeonghan

Fully prepared to do cute couples things (i.e. scare the shit out of you as many times as possible) but when you come exhausted from a very stressful shift at work cancels all the plans and buys last minute overpriced candy and watches whatever movies you want until he realizes halfway through Men in Black III that you’re asleep in his arms and can’t quite find the energy to wake you up (the next morning both of you are rather stiff because couches aren’t even made for one person to sleep on, let alone two) 

Joshua

Super excited about the corn maze, doesn’t expect you to actually get lost and has to spend an hour trying to find you because you split up once and now you’re gone forever. Seriously is starting to get stressed because the sun is going down but he finally finds you (chilling in the center chatting with the employee that found you half an hour ago) and doesn’t let you out of his arms for the rest of the night 

Jun

It’s his favorite holiday to be a couple on, which you say should be Valentine’s Day but he disagrees, citing watching horror movies as an excuse to cuddle (you’ve given up on pointing out that he does that on a regular basis). What you don’t expect is his obsession with couple’s costumes, planning them months in advance and making half of them from thrifted clothes because the store bought ones were “too cheap.” You stop complaining after the first year when you show up to the party and absolutely destroy the costume competition, and apologize for ever doubting Jun because you really do look perfect together. 

Soonyoung 

You always think about that quote from Mean Girls when you think about your boyfriend on Halloween, not because he dresses like a slut, but because he wears the same tiger costume every year and argues “no one can judge me!” and he’s kind of right because no matter how ridiculous he is, you can’t deny that he looks good in it (it has nothing to do with way he smiles every time you tell him that, nothing at all). 

Wonwoo

Not in the Halloween spirit but unfortunately you are, you drag him to buy decorations and spend four hours carving your pumpkin to look exactly like him (complete with round glasses) while he makes one that literally looks like :) because “that’s how you look, babe.” though Halloween isn’t his favorite holiday, he’s happy to do anything that makes you smile. 

Jihoon

somehow remembers that you invited him to a party but forgets that it’s Halloween and he should be in costume. answers, “someone with an actual job” when anyone asks what he is supposed to be and is generally unhappy to be there until he finally finds you, and he can’t help but smile when you wrap your arms around his shoulders, more than a little drunk. He’s stuck to your side for the rest of the night, rolling his eyes and pretending to be annoyed, but when you hold his hand because you can’t seem to balance on your own, he doesn’t let go. 

Minghao 

You were convinced by your friend to work the horror festival despite the fact that you are a huge coward, but you spend the entire event hiding in your booth collecting tickets. You’re very tired by the end of the event and don’t notice the clown until it’s right in front of you and you scream except the clown takes off its mask and you find a very cute (and apologetic!) boy. He offers to repay you by buying you a late night dinner (which ends up being fast food because nothing else is open) and it’s only when he asks to do this again sometime that you realize it might have been a date. 

Mingyu

“Anything as long as it’s not scary” is what he says when you ask what he wants to do for Halloween. You decide going to the festival they set up for kids is a safe choice until some kid dressed as Michael Myers jumps out of a bush and Mingyu trips trying to run away and nearly breaks his nose. The rest of Halloween is spent on the couch holding an ice pack to his nose with Mingyu apologizing for ruining the night. Cuddling with him (and the ice pack) on the couch, you aren’t really sure the night was ruined 

Seokmin

Loves babysitting on Halloween, drags you to take his little nieces and nephews trick or treating and you can’t even be mad because he’s right the kids are adorable and seokmin is even cuter, asking what candy they got and groaning when it’s something healthy. You hold his hand and never want to let go, and catch yourself wondering what it would be like to do this with your own little kids 

Seungkwan

Wants to go to the little festival for the hayrides, didn’t read the fine print that it’s a zombie hayride and was VERY confused when they handed him the paintball gun. Spends most of the ride clinging to your side and too scared to even think about shooting, regrets everything when you get off until he sees your grin and the slightly crazed look in your eyes after having a little too much fun shooting the zombies. Lets you pull him to ride it again but this time he just watches you have fun and maybe it isn’t quite so scary 

Vernon

Somehow convinces you to do a horror movie marathon with him, even though you have told him over and over again that you are terrible with horror movies. Lets you hide in his shoulder for most of each movie and doesn’t get upset when you scroll through your phone through the rest of it, thanks you for sitting through it and listening to his film analyses at the end. He doesn’t complain when you call him every night to fall asleep to his voice because you can’t stop thinking about the movies (he hopes maybe by next year he can comfort you by his side instead of through the phone).

Chan 

Someone (Jun) convinced him Halloween is the perfect time to confess and Chan decides doing it after the haunted house is the perfect idea (adrenaline highs and all that). He grabs your hand as soon as you and your friends escape, except you don’t realize that it’s Chan and think it’s a demon trying to drag you back and Chan ends up with a slap to the face (he says it’s okay you can just go on a date with him and he’ll call it even)

[femmescooter]

A Maine Vampire in LA

It wasn’t that hard, being a famous vampire in LA. Not nearly as hard as opening for a chronically-late heroin addict and having to improvise another tight five while the audience only seemed interested in shouting out guesses about her bra size.

Fuck you, Dave.

And fuck Richie too for turning that story into a bit for her West Coast tour.

But now she was rich and famous. She hardly remembered having to crouch behind a dumpster, sucking down radioactive rat blood.

New York was a toxic place to try and start a comedy career, literally and figuratively, and she had skipped town for sunny LA while trying to figure out why the fuck she had tried to live in that hellhole in the first place. The pizza wasn’t even that good.

Not that she knew.

Richie was a non-sleeping, non-eating, blood-sucking monster, a walking corpse barely animated by preying on innocents, but hey. So were all her friends in the industry. At least she never forgot to wear sunscreen.

Once a month, a guy who didn’t ask questions or tell her anything showed up at her door with a tasteful glass bottle. It wasn’t human, that much she knew. He had been hired by Steve, who also didn’t ask questions and refused to hear anything past: “So I’ll need blood delivered once a week—.”

She was happy like this, until. Until a phone call. Until a frantic flight to Maine, nauseated by memories.

Until she locked eyes with Emily Kaspbrack.

She wanted, so badly. Richie hadn’t drunk human blood since—

Since Emily, offering her palm, as Richie cried on her sewer-filthy shoulder and drank the blood out of the cut and cried and drank and cried and drank until Emily said she was getting dizzy. Richie had ran away from her so fast that Emily had to show up at her window that night, furious and stubborn and lovely, and say: “You’re my best friend. IT changed you, whatever, but don’t be stupid.”

She had to sit there re-remembering, as the others ate their Chinese food, how she had fed from Emily and Richie burned from the inside out.

It had been the best thing she’d ever tasted, over and over again. The other losers had offered and Emily had gotten weird and snapped at them and clambered over Richie like it was okay. It was okay to be a monster and drink her best friend’s blood because they were RichieandEmily.

The slimy truth of self-hatred, always writhing in her dead veins, drove her outside to try and smoke out the overwhelming need for Emily’s blood.

Emily didn’t even try to sneak up on her outside, just stomped right over from the door and snatched the lit cig out of her hand, grinding it out before Richie had a chance to complain.

Richie, trying to pretend like her hands weren’t shaking with the overwhelming image of her blood on her tongue, raised on eyebrow. “Here to give me a health lecture, pipsqueak?”

“Shut the fuck up.” Emily’s cheeks were so pink, visible even in the night air. Richie was pretty sure she was close to drooling. “Bite me.”

Richie tried not to wince. “Poor choice of words.”

“I’m being literal, asshole. Bite me.”

This was too much. “Emily, no—“

“Richie.” Emily’s voice was deadly serious and her big brown eyes were locked on hers with the intensity of a religious martyr. “I have missed you my whole life. I want you to get over yourself and bite me.”

Richie was now pretty sure she was close to crying instead. “Ems, I can’t.”

“Sure you can.” Emily snuck her arms around her waist, peeking up at her. She smelled so delicious, like warmth and life and sunlight. Richie just wanted a taste of it, just enough to keep her going…

Emily reached up and wrapped her fingers in Richie’s hair, gently but insistently pulling towards the divot where her shoulder met her neck. “You must be hungry after all those years. And we’re going to kill a clown tomorrow. If IT gets to you because you were too stupid to take what I can give you, I’ll reanimate you just to drive a stake through your heart.”

Richie let out a low groan, lips pressed to the soft barrier of her skin. Her blood pulsed below her mouth, as inviting as anything she’d ever know.

“If anything happens to you,” Richie said, voice rough, “I’m burning this town to the ground.”

Emily laughed and Richie sank her teeth into bliss.

[peachywise]

Lessons in Honesty Part 5

steve harrington x reader

Chapter 5: Enjoy the Silence

– other chapters: part 1 ⋆ part 2 ⋆ part 3 ⋆ part 4 ⋆ part 5 ⋆ part 6 ⋆ part 7 ⋆ part 8

– series synopsis: Being Robin Buckley’s younger sibling had always been uneventful, up until she got herself tangled with Steve Harrington. And really, you were happy for her. She deserved friends. What was bothersome was when he got let in on small secrets like your infatuation with Eddie Munson, and decided to take it into his own hands to try and get him to pay attention to you-- by pretending to be your boyfriend.

– notes: hello!! this is my favourite chapter so far. i got giddy writing it. shameless in my love of the tending to one another’s wound trope. this is all. please enjoy!

p.s. enjoy the silence is not an eighties song but the title fit too well for the chapter okay let me enjoy depeche mode in peace

p.p.s. i have literally tried posting this twice before only for it not to show up in the tags and if it happens again then i will hurl myself off a cliff 

read here or on ao3

_____________________________

People often say how silence can be defeating. But at this moment, with Steve beside you in the driver's seat, you thought a better way to describe the silence is by how utterly restraining it was.  

You couldn't move. Not because you were paralyzed by discomfort, but because you felt like there was a rubber band circling the both of you, and if it was disrupted, it would snap and break something irreparably. You'd waited to see if Steve would be the one to break the silence, but he'd been driving for ten minutes and hadn't even turned on the stereo.

Either the rubber band was going to snap first, or your mentality would crack under the weight of awkwardness and overthinking.

"You can listen to Wham! if you want."

Looks like your mentality was the weaker of the two.

"What?" Steve asked. Your comment knocked a brick from the mental wall behind which he had put himself. Steve turned to look at you for a brief second before suddenly turning his attention back to the road. You wondered if he had been on autopilot and just became self-aware that he had been driving this whole time.

"You know, the band," you continued. Sometimes it felt like your brain cells were small clowns packing themselves into a tiny vehicle, only to launch themselves out of your mouth and into an ocean, suffering a painful and stupid death. "I didn't actually know if you listened to them or not when I said you looked like you were dressed for their concert. Sorry if I offended you. I mean, they're not my favourite band, but if you like them, then I'll shut up, and you can play your music no problem. Then again, just cause you look like you listen to them doesn't mean you do. You could listen to Madonna for all I—"

"Buckley," Steve cut you off.

"Yeah?"

"Just turn on the radio."

"Okay."

You didn't.

And it was back to silence.

Five more minutes passed before Steve pulled into the driveway of your house and turned off the ignition. Thirty seconds passed in silence without either of you moving a muscle. And then, finally, Steve spoke.

"I'm sorry."

Steve wasn't looking at you as he said it. He leaned back against his seat as he stared at your dad's car in front of the garage. You, however, couldn't move your eyes away from him. Confusion overtook your features at his apology.

"For what?" You asked, twisting your body slightly in your seat to face him more fully.

He shifted in his seat, moving his hand up to run over his jaw. His frustration was apparent. "I shouldn't have left you alone in a place like that. I wasn't thinking." He murmured past his hand. You noticed it was red and starting to crack from where he had hit the man.

Was that really what had him so torn up? For leaving you alone? "You had no way to know someone would come up to me. And I dealt with it, Steve. I told him to leave the same as you would have. Besides, you were what, forty feet away? I don't really consider that leaving me alone."

"But you got hurt because of it," Steve spoke more resoundly, finally turning his face towards you and dropping his hand.

As if to emphasize his statement, your head throbbed with a dull pain. With how focused you were on the tension in the car, it was like you had forgotten all about it.

"I fell backward. It was more an accident because the table was there." The guy had grabbed you, sure, but the force of you pulling back caused the events that followed to happen. Not that you were acquitting that asshole of anything. It was his fault. He shouldn't have laid his hands on you in the first place. But Steve shouldn't hold guilt or anger about the fact he hadn't been standing beside you. If the guy had a few more drinks in him, he probably would have come up to you if Steve was there regardless. The same thing was bound to happen.

"I've fallen before. Had cuts and bruises. When I was seven, I even stood on top of monkey bars and fell off and broke my arm. Now that we're friends, are you going to take responsibility every time I'm injured, and you're not there? Because I'm not letting you take on the role of bodyguard too. Fake boyfriend is enough."

Steve looked at you for a quiet beat, the wheels in his head turning as he processed everything you said. Hopefully, your attempt at lightening up the conversation at the end would make everything a little less serious because you weren't sure how long you could keep hold of this metaphorical breath before you passed out. Thankfully, it seemed like something had resonated with him. There was still a tightness in the way he clenched his jaw, but he gave a slight nod of the head, looking down at his lap.

"I'm still sorry it happened," he offered, finally sounding less wound up.

"I'm sure that creep is too. That was one hell of a punch. I think you broke his nose," you gave a slight smile.

An unamused breathy laugh left him as he turned back to look at you. "Yeah, well, what are friends and fake boyfriends for, right?"

Ah, so he had picked up on that little bit of terminology you had used. Part of you thought he might have missed it with all that brooding.

Your small smile turned into a full-fledged grin. "Exactly. Next time you need someone punched, I'll go up to bat. Maybe I'll throw in the added bonus of insulting them too."

Steve laughed at that one. "Alright, alright. I think we should make sure you don't have a concussion before launching yourself into another fight," he added. "Do you want to run inside and get the first aid kit so I can check the back of your head out here? I don't want you to twist around trying to get at it and end up slamming your head into something else."

Good point. Still, it was dark outside and cramped in the car. There was a far easier solution to this. "Or you could just come inside and look at it. You said The Hideout was bound to give me an infection, but I don't think your car is much better."

"I keep my car clean, okay?" He argued petulantly. "And I don't think you want your parents waking up. I thought you didn't want them to know about what happened."

That got a snort out of you. "Please, they won't wake up for anything. My dad uses a CPAP machine, and my mom wears earplugs. Once, the fire alarm was going off cause Robin burnt some eggs in the morning, and they had no idea."

"And Robin?" Steve countered.

"We'll just use the bathroom in the basement. She won't hear a thing." Looking at the windows, you saw that all the lights were off, including in her room. Robin also had the Buckley gene of sleeping like the dead. There'd be no issue.

Seeing Steve's silent hesitancy, you rolled your eyes and unbuckled your seatbelt. "Look, I'm good either way. Either check it in the house or don't. I'm sure splashing water on it will do the trick, right?" You smiled, already climbing out of the car.

You heard Steve mutter something under his breath, but whatever it was didn't really matter. He was out of the car and trailing behind you a short second after.

******************************

If you had a diary, this scene would make for the weirdest entry to date.

Hi, diary. It's me again. You know, the outcast whose only friends like to play an intense game of make-believe every week to escape the reality of mundane life? Well, you'll never guess what happened. I went to a metal concert where some drunk guy tried to get handsy with me, and I cracked my skull open. Now Steve Harrington, ex-basketball heartthrob turned older sister's best friend, is currently poking at the hole in my head while I'm straddling a toilet seat. Life is so crazy, huh?

Maybe you should look into investing in one. Though, you weren't sure if you really wished for any of this to be recorded.

"Ow," you mumbled, twisting to look over your shoulder as the wet cloth grazed the minor cut on your head once more. Steve pushed your face back by the cheek, admonishing you with a repeated, "I told you to stop trying to look. It's not physically possible."

You mimicked his words back to him with a lower-pitched annoying sound.

When the washcloth hit the cut again, you were sure that one was actually on purpose.

"Well, you no longer have dried blood caked in your hair, and the cut is just a minor one. You should be okay," Steve commented, setting the cloth on the counter before moving over to wash his hands.

"So glad to hear I'm going to live," you amusedly said as Steve dried off his hands. He grabbed the small ointment tube in the available first-aid kit and unscrewed the cap, dotting some of the medication on the tip of his finger. He used his other hand to gently move your head back to stare at the wall so he could access the wound. His touch was so light you barely felt him apply the medicine.

"Alright, you're good to go," he said in a muffled tone. The way his fingers slipped through your hair as he moved his hand away had goosebumps rising to the back of your neck. He probably didn't even mean to do it, but the ghost of that touch lingered as you rose to stand up. Steve cleaned off the excess ointment from his hands. Your eyes lingered on his movements, noticing how the irritated red on his knuckles had worsened as time passed. It was going to bruise. And while the split in his lip and small cut on his knuckle didn't exactly scream severe, you figured it was best to return the favour. You didn't miss that minor wince he gave when he'd wiped his hand dry on the towel.

"Your turn," you said, lifting yourself up to sit on the bathroom counter before rummaging through the kit for some hydrogen peroxide and something to wrap his hand with.

Steve gave a resolute, "I'm fine," as he crossed his arms.

Peering up at him with a raised brow, you reached forward to cup his jaw in your hand. The sudden widening of his eyes at your action quickly changed to one experiencing a sudden sting when you gently ran a thumb over the cut on his lip. "Don't lie to me, Hero. Amuse me just this once," you said as you dropped your hand back down to your lap. Steve gave you an overly-cautious look.

His shoulders dropped some of their tension when he finally relented with a muttered, "whatever, just… get it over with."

"Trust me. I'm a better doctor than I am a patient," you grinned, taking off the cap from the hydrogen peroxide bottle. You grabbed his hurt hand and held it over the sink.

"That's not saying much. You're a terrible patient," he retorted, but his admonishment quickly became an expression of pain once you poured the solution over the cut knuckle. "Ow," he bit out, trying to yank his hand back. You squeezed it tighter and looked up at him with a slight shake of your head. "Who's the terrible patient now," you muttered.

Bringing his hand closer to your lips, you softly blew cold air on the stinging skin, mentally noting the feel of his hand in yours. His hand was soft. That was unexpected. It wasn't without calluses— you couldn't hazard a guess from what— but mostly, you noticed how warm it was. Holding his hand wasn't exactly… an uncomfortable experience. You almost wish it were.

When you finally released your grip, you momentarily glanced up at him. He was looking at you with an indiscernible expression. Partly calm, partly confused, wholly serious. You started to feel like there was restricted breath in the small space between you and him.

"How often do you go around punching people, anyway?" You spoke, trying to break out of the silence as you grabbed the previous ointment he had used on your head.

"What do you mean?" Steve asked, pulling his hand back and taking a minor step out of your space.

"I heard you punched Jonathan Byers when you and Nancy first started dating. Something about thinking she was cheating, and a certain theatre sign that read Nancy 'The Slut' Wheeler."

"Oh." Steve gave a simple reply, "Yeah. Not my proudest moment." He shuffled his weight once from foot to foot. It was clearly a challenging subject. I mean, why wouldn't it be? And to bring it up now probably wasn't one of your brightest ideas. But you felt the need to understand him better. After tonight's events, it became clear Steve had this intense urge to protect people. You'd already seen it plenty of times with the young kids. But now you were beginning to truly see through this exterior he had to what was at his core—deep caring, Kindness. It was woven into the state of his entire being.

"I'll drop the subject if you want," you offered, giving him an out as you took back his hand and began putting the ointment on the split skin. "I'm just curious as to what all that was really about." It didn't seem like him, not that you would tell him that. No need to let him in on how much you had begun to take note of his character.

There was a pinch to Steve's eyebrows as he thought about what to say. "I was upset. That was really it. I thought I had seen something but didn't understand it. I didn't talk to Nance about it at all. I just… reacted." When you were finished, you wiped your hand free of the ointment, moving now to grab some bandage wrap to twine around his hand. "I regret it. I still don't get how Nancy took me back after all that, but I'm thankful for it. I had a lot to make up for. She helped me learn a lot of things. I grew up because of her. I'll always be grateful for that. It's still hard to move past all the immature shit I once did, though."

Finishing wrapping his hand, you tucked the tail end of the bandage underneath the wrap. His meaning made sense. We all do dumb stuff. But the one good thing about mistakes is our ability to learn from them. Doesn't make the actions okay or easy to grapple with. But if mistakes can help us grow, to learn, then at least they give them some semblance of meaning and purpose.

"I can see why you'd want to win her back," you softly stated, realizing you still had a hold of his hand before letting it go. Steve gripped the edge of the counter, half caging your body in. "Not sure if I consider fake dating to be out of the realm of 'immature shit,' but at least it's something we're doing together. You can't take all the blame that way."

Steve's face transformed into that odd look you couldn't figure out again. It took him a second to even say anything more. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess you're right," he weakly smiled as the words tumbled out of him.

He must really be scared the plan wasn't going to work. Not that he needed Nancy to continue to be a good person. He was that all on his own. But he did deserve happiness.

"For what it's worth, I think you owe yourself a little more credit for who you are now," you smiled, remembering him saying something similar when you told him how Eddie helped you out of your social isolation. Grabbing a clean face cloth, you ran it under the tap and put the smallest amount of soap on top. Cleaning his lip with peroxide probably isn't the wisest idea.

"Dustin and the others respect you because it's easy to look up to someone like you. You're a safe presence," you murmured, not used to being so open with people. You couldn't exactly look him in the eye, so instead, you focused your attention entirely on cleaning the area of his split lip. "Hell, my sister loves you. And you're friends with her and support her, knowing exactly who she is. She wouldn't stick around you if you weren't someone worth being around."

You weren't sure if Steve wasn't saying anything because you had been cleaning his lip or if he just didn't have anything to reply to. Putting the cloth aside, you dotted some more of the Polysporin to your finger and gently dabbed it on the cut.

"My point is, Nancy may have helped, but you're the one who chose to be better. It was always there in you. You're a kind person, Steve Harrington. I think people are better with you in their life than without."  

The sudden movement of his hand encircling your wrist and stopping you had your gaze flying up to his in surprise. "You really think that's true?" his voice was quieter, lower. It was the first time you noticed how the pitch of his voice was almost melodious.

You got the feeling he was asking you if you thought your life was better with him in it than without. And the only thing you could respond with was the instinctual truth.

"I do."

And the silence like a rubber band was back, his eyes intent on yours, his hand sliding down from your wrist to take hold of your hand.

You felt like all your thoughts shut off all in one moment. You weren't sure what was happening, but you made no move to end it. You no longer felt restrained by this bubble but comforted despite the nervous buzz across your arms.

Steve moved closer to the counter, lips opening to say something more.

And then the rubber band snapped anyway.

"Are you talking to yourself, you weirdo—" Robin's voice cut into the small space you two created. Steve quickly launched himself back, stumbling but catching himself as he cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair as he looked everywhere except at you or Robin.

Your hand was dropped back onto your lap, and in your surprise, you jerked back away from Steve. Unfortunately, that meant smacking your sore head against the mirror and letting out a less quiet, painful, "Jesus Christ!"

Robin's own body had gone into a state of static shock. Her movements paused in the doorway as her eyes moved from you to Steve, then back to you again.

"Uh… What the hell are you two doing?"

Robin pinched the bridge of her nose between two fingers and took what you hoped was meant to be a calming breath. Once that was done, Robin stepped forward and ushered you to move off your seated position on the counter. You did, and she rested a hand on your shoulder. "You, go to bed," she ordered, practically shoving you out the door. You turned to look back at them both as Robin stared Steve down and said, "and you and I are going to have a little talk before you go."

"Oh, Robin, hey!" Steve lifted his hand in greeting as if trying to be casual would help this situation seem less suspicious than it looked. Robin gave Steve one of her signature looks, aiming to make someone two sizes smaller. It worked. "They got into a bar fight and hit their head," Steve spilled out, pointing in your direction like someone identifying a criminal in a lineup.

"Hey, it wasn't a bar fight!" You gasped, pointing back to him as you whipped your head toward your sister. "And Steve's the one who punched a guy!"

You caught the nervous look on his face before Robin practically kicked the door closed.

________

tag list: @rexorangecouny @simonsbluee @felicityofbakerstreet @heytherejulietx @ohashley101 @youngflower @katsukiswrld @ramona-thorns @theblairwaldorf2 @fezco-mylove @hxrgreeves @jbcalway @heizenka @edenstarkk @greekktragedy @trishiepo0 @nonpoppin @bimboshaggy 

[unfinishedslurs]

Flip of a coin

(I got really into Richie and Patty fics for a while so this is based off all the ones I read. Which was every single one published before roughly halfway into 2021)

Patty remembers that Stan always had a strange obsession with Richie Tozier.

He kept up with the news around him, watched his specials even though he rarely laughed and hated them with a passion. I don’t know why, Babylove, he’d say, but I don’t think he writes his own stuff. Have you seen his interviews? They’re much funnier. It was one of his little oddities, like his need to buy every Bill Denbrough book ever published, or buy clothing from the Rogan&Marsh line, even though he’d never much cared for fashion. These obsessions made a lot more sense after Stan’s hastily scratched letter, detailing a clown and impossible things that Patty clung to in a desperate attempt to rationalize.

She knows, distantly, though gossip and magazines at the store, that he’d broken down on stage the same day Stan died. She knows he’d cancelled all his future events, made a serious video where he confessed the ghostwriters, came out as bisexual, and said he was going to take a break from comedy.

According to the internet, he’s currently on a cocaine binge in Guatemala. According to Patty’s eyes, he’s in Georgia, looking less like a man on cocaine and more like a man whose life had been steamrolled with no idea what to do with the empty space left behind.

“Patty Uris?”

She looks at him, and sees a tragedy told in three parts. A greeting, some growing, a goodbye. She looks at him, and sees a mirror.

She looks at him, and knows he sees her too.

“Blum-Uris, actually,” she says, and opens the door to let him inside.

—

“You could always try voice acting.”

“You sound like my manager. I came here to get away from my manager.”

—

Richie makes Patty laugh for the first time since Stan died

—

Richie has a nice chest for crying, she thinks, and hysterical laughter tumbles out with her tears.

—

“It’s just…I love them. I do. They’re my family, God, they deserve every happy ending they get, but I’m jealous. I’m jealous and angry and I don’t understand why they get to move on when...”

“Our happy ending was with them.”

“Yeah, that.”

They stayed silent for a while, until Richie breaks it by taking a swig and saying, “Bev’s pregnant.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, she’s freaking out about it. I don’t think they meant to have a baby this soon. Or ever. I don’t think they realized that with the clown gone they could have a baby. And she just got out of her shitty marriage after her childhood with a shitty dad, and…yeah, it’s not all sunshine and rainbows. She’s had about five panic attacks since she found out.”

“When did she find out?”

“Yesterday.”

Patty isn’t resentful. She thinks of all the years she and Stan spent trying to conceive, and how they eventually decided they’d be better off waiting anyways. They’d looked up adoption agencies a few times, but ultimately agreed it wasn’t the right time. She isn’t sure whether she’s grateful they never got around to it, that she doesn’t have to be a parent all on her own on top of everything else, or if the fact that she could have a piece of Stan right now, a small, babbling infant with his eyes and blood, makes her want to cry. Probably both.

She isn’t resentful, but she is jealous. It doesn’t matter. She’s a big girl, she can handle it.

She is going to be the best aunt ever.

“Do you think she’d appreciate another girl talking her through it?”

“Probably. You should call her and see.” He takes another long pull. “They want to name it after one of them. Stan or Eddie. Maybe both. She asked me to ask you whether you’d be okay with that.”

It takes a minute for that to register, and another five to get around the ache in her throat. “That’s…he’d love that.” He would. He’d pretend it bothered him, or that he wouldn’t want it, but he’d probably cry the minute he heard it.

Traditional, too, to name the baby after him, though she wasn’t sure he’d care so much about that part. She doubted his friends even realized.

“That a yes?”

No. “Yes.”

—

“He said…Patty,” he sobs. “Patty, he loved me back. He loved me back, but it didn't matter because he died and he’s gone and I spent two months begging and praying and getting drunk off my ass and it didn’t matter because he’s fucking dead.”

“It mattered to him, Richie.”

“Not enough to survive. Not enough to fucking say it without choking on the fucking blood in his mouth just to say—” he chokes the words down.

She rubs his back. “Don’t let it fester,” she reminds him, and the dam breaks.

“Why the fuck didn’t I just say it?” He explodes. “Why the fuck did I spend my entire fucking childhood pining for his firey ass when we could have had some fucking time? Why didn’t he say something? If he’d just fucking said it sooner, said anything…he was always the brave one between us. And it ended up with him fucking dead, and me on this fucking couch with you crying over misssed opportunities like a fucking…I dunno, Pats.”

“I know.”

“I don’t mean I don’t like sitting here with you,” he adds unnecessarily. They both know it’s unnecessary. She lets him do it anyway. “I just wish we were bonding over fucking…wedding photos or some shit.”

If she lays her head back and closes her eyes, she can picture it.

—

Patty breaks her fist on the wall.

It was bound to happen eventually. She’s been cycling through the anger stage of her grief for a month. Something was going to give.

Not the wall, though.

Richie takes her to the hospital.

“Sorry,” she says on the way there. She thinks she may be crying. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, it just happened, I swear—”

“Patty.”

“I’m sorry,” she says again. She’s not talking to Richie anymore. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”

She doesn’t realize that he’s pulled over until he’s grabbing her by the shoulders and pulling her into his arms, both of them leaning uncomfortably over the gearshift. She doesn’t mind.

“I don’t understand,” she sobs into his chest. “I don’t know what I did wrong. Why couldn’t he just stay?

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Richie says. She thinks she can feel him shaking. “It…he made his choices.”

She pulls away, suddenly furious. “That’s the problem! He fucking made that choice! He deliberately decided to leave me! And everyone says that he must have been suffering, that he must have been secretly unhappy, but I know better. We were fucking happy! Life wasn’t fucking perfect, but it was good. And he threw it all away, for—for what? What the hell was it all for?”

“I dunno, Pats, I think it was to save me and my friends,” Richie says dryly, and she knows, okay, she knows she’s angry, she knows he uses humor as his coping mechanism, she knows those two things can make a deadly combination that will leave ash in her mouth for weeks.

She says it anyways. “And look how well that worked out.”

His face shutters, and the regret comes pouring in as he turns back to the steering wheel without saying anything else. “Richie…”

“I know,” he says, holding up a hand. “I know you didn’t mean it. Let's get you to the hospital already.”

The rest of the drive is silent.

—

“Richie, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Pattycakes. I forgive you.”

“I know, but I need to say it anyways, because I’m glad you’re here, Rich. I want you here. It’s just…”

I wish things were different.

“I get it.”

“Yeah.” He doesn’t, not really, but it’s the closest thing she has. Just like she’s the closest thing he has. They’re two sides of the same coin, aren’t they?

“I blame him sometimes, you know?” Richie admits quietly. “For Eddie. It was supposed to be the seven of us…sometimes I think we could have all made it out, if he hadn’t been such a fucking—” he breaks off, taking his glasses off to rub a hand over his face. “Sorry.”

“No, I get it.”

They smile at each other, bitter things in a bitter world, because she knows Richie’s thinking the same thing she just was. She doesn’t get it, not really, but she knows better than anyone the pain of loving and hating Stanley Blum-Uris.

Flip of the coin. Heads, a life together, tails, a life apart.

—

They’re not filling the holes in each other’s lives. They’re too…them for that. There’s nothing romantic about the way Patty will sometimes make Richie’s coffee with two sugars and no cream and break down, or the days Richie will get a far off look in his eye when she does, and then they’re both mourning two different kinds of loss. They’ll never know how Eddie liked his coffee, after all.

Nothing romantic about the nights Richie wakes up screaming Eddie’s name either. They both have nightmares, but Patty’s are quieter.

They’re not filling the holes, but they’re not not filling them either. Hole-adjacent. The ache in Richie’s voice when he says Pats instead of Eds, the equal aching in her chest when she wakes up to see a dark head that isn’t her husbands.

So, no, they’re not in love. She doesn’t feel that way about him. Doesn’t think she could, even without the dead hovering over their shoulders like shrouds. They’re too similar in their differences, not each other’s types, any number of reasons they could never fall in love.

Sometimes, though, she wishes they did. Wishes Richie were the one she met at that party, wishes Richie wore a matching wedding band to the one she’s moved to her right finger.

She knows it’s less about Richie, though, and more about not feeling like she’s being picked at from the inside out. The fantasies are there because he is, not of any actual desire for a romantic connection. Doesn’t stop her from dreaming.

She only voices it to him once.

“Do you think, if things were different, we would have made a good couple?” Patty doesn’t really think so, or want to think about it, but the wine is making her maudlin and she misses him. Misses Stan so much her insides feel like a bag of rocks that’s just waiting to split open and spill out every part of her. She hates it, the missing. More than anything.

Richie snorts.

“No, really.”

“Maybe, Batty-Patty,” he says, shooting her a grin that misses humor by a mile.

She laughs at that. “I am batty for asking, aren’t I?”

“I wasn’t going to say anything.” He did, just through the name, but she won’t point it out.

“We’re not compatible.”

“Nope.” He punctuates it with a drink.

“I wish we were,” she says fiercely. “I wish I’d fallen in love with you instead.”

He lowers his glass, expression somber, and watches her for a minute. Whatever he sees in her face makes his mouth quirk.

“You don’t mean that,” he tells her.

“I want to.”

“And I want to have not wasted my career parroting other people's bullshit. It is what it is, Batsy.”

That makes her giggle, despite herself. “Batsy?”

“What, you don’t like it?”

“I love it,” she says. She does. It’s fitting. “Pour me another glass.”

He indulges her, then himself. “We never could have been a good couple,” he says, trying and failing to seem flippant, “but, you know, my mom always wanted me to have a sister.”

“A sister, huh?” She stares at him, considering. “Is that what we are? Siblings?”

“Well, no,” he shrugs, “but I think it fits better than anything else.”

—

They make a chore chart.

It’s kind of dumb, Patty thinks. Objectively. They’re not college kids, they should be able to do housework on their own, without prompting.

She and Stan had never needed one.

But that’s the whole problem, isn’t it? Stan’s gone, and Richie’s here, and they both have days where they can’t even get out of bed, much less remember to make dinner or wash the dishes. The chart helps. It helps a lot.

—

Patty doesn’t sing much anymore.

—

She and Richie both have a four drink limit, established sometime between the third time Richie finds her sobbing in the bathtub, and the seventh time Patty finds him comatose on the floor. They pretend not to notice when the other breaks it.

[mariesocuniverse]

Byeol’s Relationships: Maknae Line

HanByeol

You know how people say jisung is Chan’s first kid? Yeah that

the same thing basically goes for byeol as well

As much as they clown each other jisung really values her opinions and always asks for it

Whether it be music, lyrics or anything else he always asks Byeol for her opinion

he hasn’t told her this before but he tried writing a song for Byeol to sing solo but he’s too shy about it

also another person she forces to go to bed bc 3racha can wait i’ll fight you all myself if i have to

She’s the sister he never knew he wanted

he gets really sad whenever he does something that disappoints her and doesn’t want her to have that facial expression again

he also very much is very greedy whenever he wants byeol’s love and affection

like what do you mean hyunjin is her favorite? that’s a lie

very clingy and likes to hug and hold her hand whenever they’re going somewhere

he denies it but jisung gets very pouty whenever he doesn’t get enough attention

you know thats ppl who go “Byeoooooooooool” when calling someone? he’s like that

byeol pretends to be annoyed but hasn’t done anything to stop it so everyone knows shes lying

ByeoLix

byeol literally had to do a double take when she heard felix speak for the first time bc that face and voice did not match upon first glance

after that tho?

sun can’t compare with how much these two shine

she didn’t know what it was about Felix but she immediately wanted to become friends with him on sight

she wasn’t surprised at all when felix befriended chan even though chan had his whole dark and edgy persona

Byeol likes to call him her personal energizer

One time he made her brownies when she was on her period and she cried

They’re just so soft with each other it’s so sweet

She was so heartbroken when he got eliminated and needed a moment to take a break

She once again wanted to fight jyp when he came back

sometimes when he speaks english she repeats after him in tiny

Felix’s family jokes that she might be a lost Lee sister that they never knew they had and one of felix’s sisters said byeol might be replacing them

in another world, Lee Byeol would be the biological sibling to Felix

although she’s still very much like family to him even though not by blood :D

he’s very much the person who would go out and be like “Oh noona would like this” or “this reminds me of noona”, etc etc

they both have sections in the rooms of stuff they’ve both for each other

they giggle so much whenever they’re together its honestly so adorable

SeungByeol

this guy right here

Surprisingly these two were very awkward when they first met

Seungmin thought Byeol had a certain aura to her that intimidated him so he felt a little uncomfortable

Byeol did her best to make him feel comfortable while also trying not to push boundaries

But it worked!!!

Sometimes Byeol jokingly says she regrets it bc now?

This boy takes any opportunity to tease her without fail much to her dismay

one little mistake and it wouldn’t be missed by this little shit

seungmin is literally “i can be your angle or i can be your devil” to her

but its all in good fun so she usually lets it go

top tier banter with the two of them and sometimes they don’t stop until someone pulls them apart

he called her cringe once and byeol has never felt more offended in her life

he really is the annoying yet endearing younger brother byeol didn’t know she wanted

whenever seungmin records byeol likes to sit in the recording room and listen bc she likes his voice a lot

seungmin thinks that the two of them have a nice mix of voices and want to do a cover together with jeongin

he likes hearing her sing and play piano bc its calming to him

just a typical sibling dynamic

JeongByeol

Byeol’s baby!

She just has the urge to love and take care of the boy you know?

Does he take advantage of it? Depends on the day

byeol always make sure that jeongin is okay and that he knows he’s talented and worthy of being in the group and debuting

she always has this proud look on her face whenever he’s singing

she ruffles his hair and pinches his cheeks a lot like a grandma

sometimes byeol’s sister likes to joke that he’s basically replacing her as the younger sibling

its not yang jeongin anymore guys in lee jeongin

he accidentally called her mom once and everyone could not stop laughing for a whole five minutes

byeol is like an emotional pillar for jeongin to lean on whenever he needs to talk about anything

he’s the youngest so byeol knows that he needs to be taken care of 

she makes sure his voice is always heard during interviews and hypes him up during variety shows

jeongin also returns the favor by doing things like pulling her away from crowds whenever she gets too far

she’s very much someone he looks up to bc he knows how difficult it is to be in this type of group

he has the mindset of “if its this hard for me, it must be harder on byeol” so he does his best to help byeol even if its the tiniest bit

[ask-hannah-blog]

Hey, i'm a clown by profession and only managed to keep getting work because I'm seen as an "safe clown" since I was doing it before the clown flu was a thing. Recently I got infected though, and now I get horny putting on my act (which is super awkward) and my pretty delicious feet are starting to grow to fit my clown shoes. I'm starting to get ...urges... in regards to my feet too. I'm worried this will affect my livelihood, so what do I do?

Well I don’t see how getting better, and better tricks will hurt your business! You finally get to stop pretending and be that pretty clown you’re soul has been burning to be. I’m soooooo happy for you!

But 🤔

What do you do if your business goes down the pooper?

You can always become a hobo clown!

Hehehe now hear me out!

I know hobo clowns are bottom of the totem pole, above only fappers, Gimmick knows I wouldn’t want to be one! 👸

I mean they’re smelly, dumb, submissive, lazy, completely uncoordinated, just the worst!

But I mean, you do you!

You’re probably asking this because you’re already noticing a hit to business aren’t you?

Doesn’t really make sense right? Sure kids parties are out but it’s well documented that adult clown entertainment has never been better, bachelor parties, heck let’s face it, bachelorette parties too, and I mean who doesn’t like a party clown at their orgy?

But for some reason you’re failing?

At a time when clowns are raking in the cash? I mean I know no one can compare to me, but I’ve got more clients than time, I’m telling new clients to just read my blog for an hour and to pay me for it.

Doesn’t it sound like a you problem?

The only clowns who can’t make it is this economy are lazy ol’ hobos.

Face it, you got an offer didn’t you? Branch out, let a perv film those growing feet, rake in the dough, but you didn’t want to make the drive, right? Lazy.

Or maybe you went to that Bachelor party. Maybe you really tried, but for the first time you noticed your stockings had runs going through them, and your toes were poking out of holes. Your high heels were mismatched, and one was held together with duct tape.

Hehe I bet you were feeling pretty sexy huh, confident to be branching out, hypnotized by the dollar signs on the check. So you hopped up on the groom and gave him a lap dance, didn’t you? Hehe how long did it take you to notice he was holding his nose? Hehe did you stop? Or were you so excited about that gig that you just kept going?

Is that why you’re so worried? Because they left bad reviews about you?

Well here’s my advice, drop your prices. Not by much, I mean you’re still mostly human? Just a little trashy. Just cut your prices 10%, get used to a lower income. As you get worse, your prices will naturally drop, until you’re doing pretty much anything for a shiny quarter.

Get it dummy?

Get into adult work, you can’t afford to be a snob, and do it for cheap. Charging full clown prices for a hobo clown just ain’t right!

Kk, love ya babe. And hey, spoil yourself while you can. Treat those growing feet right, and take ‘em to the salon, while a human still willing to touch them! 🤭

[positivelybeastly]

Honestly, when I ask this I really don’t want you to be sad and depressed, I just want you to be honest. I’m curious on what the other side of ambition looks like.

Are you tired? Like…are you tired of being who you you are and what you do? I know you put on a show for people in public…but I’ve had many people who have done that and are so far from actually being like that in private. Did this happen from you being so emotional and emotional absent? Or maybe it was to get others to see a human instead of a beast from you. Or maybe it the work you do and your high hopes from it that chases you to be tired…

". . . Hm. Quite the question."

"I suspect most people, at some point in their lives, end up being somewhat tired of who they are. You're confronted with more proof of your limitations and less affirmations of your potential; you look back and you invariably find at least as many regrets as you do reasons to be cheerful, if not more; you discover that you spent rather a lot of time being who other people wanted you to be rather than who you actually were."

"But then you invariably come to the next phase of the question, the next carriage of the train of thought, which is - if I'm not to be this, then what?"

"A walking thesaurus who takes things too seriously?"

"The class clown, forever wasting their potential?"

"The brooding misanthrope, more animal than man?"

"The beast with no natural habitat, scrabbling to find a place?"

"A pale imitation of life, obsessed with death?"

"None of them were truly adequate. None of them have ever lived up to what I felt was my potential. Oh, apologies - you said you didn't want me to be sad and depressed. Don't worry, I'll fix that. Smiling, see?"

"It's just - all of it. The disappointments, the old age, the fast that no-one's ever satisfied with whatever face I wear. The lost friends, the lost causes, the lost time. The inadequacy of humanity, the ever growing needs of mutantkind, insatiable to the end. The losing hand dealt to me by my X-gene. Is there a reason I shouldn't be tired?"

Oh, what the hell am I even saying.

Yes. I'm tired. Of course I'm damn well tired."

". . . But then. There's always tomorrow, isn't there? There's always some little pleasure, some little discovery, some little thing that makes it worth waking up tomorrow. 'Something that'll make you feel . . . young, as when the world was new.' There's always something. There's always a reason to go on. There's always someone new to be."

"What was it Cary Grant said? 'I pretended to be somebody I wanted to be until finally I became that person. Or he became me.' Tomorrow, I can pretend to be better. It isn't a lie. It can be the truth.

Yes. I'm tired. Of course I'm tired. But it won't last forever."

[drizzit]

#11.5 Servant of the Shard

Date start: November 12th, 2022

Date end: April 2nd, 2023

Card: jack of hearts - curiosity and speculation. It means balance, fairness and justice but there’s also an element of freedom. This Jack can connect with almost anyone but doesn’t get weighed down by others’ expectations or assumptions

Tweet: “- Artemis and Jarlaxle go to a rehab retreat in the alps while everyone wants them both dead - Hey the spirit soaring crew is here- Sharlotta + Berg are dead idiots now - Overall confusing and why does everyone get into fights they don’t need to? - Dragon. Nuff said.”

Rating: 3/10

Man this one was… a slog. took me 5 months to get through the first 80 pages ; and then a week to eat up the rest of the book. I don't know if it's just this between sea of swords and this one but I would be lying if some parts made me have to put the book down and take a lap.

A point just for Dwahvel being there of course. But her friendship with Artemis is sort of weird? I can't really tell whether or not they even care about each other at this point? until they hug <3 very sweet letter

sharlotta is annoying; her character used to be she would look out for herself no matter what side she had to take but this book plays her look an idiot that can't think for herself

hey have you heard about charons claw? the sword that artemis entreri has always yearned for? me neither.

Kimmuriel: "I wanna go home" Rai'guy: *snorting a line* "Do you wanna plan a coup."

Jarlaxle is a clown that fails to make me laugh. The honor bound thing about fighting the orcs and pretending to be Drizzt ugh - I'll cut him some slack because he's going through a crisis after going awol

i will say my favorite parts were between Artemis going over contingencies with Dwahvel to when the two spend the first day in the magical tent ; specifically when Jarlaxle thinks he overcame Crenshinibon with the power of determination or whatever, when the two of them are fighting and Jarlaxle looks over Entreri and hits him with that 'Do you think I need the shard to destroy you?' ;;

Thinking about the epilogue when its dropped that Jarlaxle is a baenre brings up some questions such as:

Why did he bring in Berg'inyon?

Is he really a revolutionary built upon his own? Or his his he another asset of house Baenre?

Why does Yvonnel have so many sons?

Zak and Jarlaxle held relations even during Drizzt's young life - could Zak have asked of him to see it he ended up alright?

I sort of get why Bergie died this book - I don't think Bob could do much with him while still alive. His story (that is to say his purpose) was already fulfilled. During Drizzt's years in the academy he bossed him like a Baenre ought too, made sure the drow kid wasn't the Baenre princess (I'm fuzzy on the details but he was really panicked then, whether that be simply to protect his house or maybe he really cared who can say?). I think the most important part was during Siege of Darkness, on how Jarlaxle get's his mercenary members. He doesn't really coerce or threaten, he's a glowing exit sign, a bit of comfort, a welcoming place that says "We'll take care of you." And then he dies only speaking in the second half of the book. Which the way that he dies is so weird! At recruitment Jarlaxle asks whether or not him being there was about seeing if he could beat Drizzt (and by extension Zaknafein as the best weapon master) but he doesn't care! And then years later he does when he fights Artemis?? Did jarlaxle take him in out of nepotism? Maybe he saw himself in him?

i love Dwahvel, I hope Artemis and her meet again, to sit and take up space at the same time.

I don't have much to say about the cleric quintet crew except boulder shoulder brothers my beloved <3

[fangirlinglikeabus]

i finished blake's 7 two days ago, here are my totally unsolicited thoughts on 'blake'

god i think killing blake really and utterly broke avon. if only blake had stuck around for rumours of death, then he’d KNOW about avon’s trust issues and wouldn’t have tried to test him (or maybe he would because it seems he ALSO has trust issues at this point. love these fucked up little guys)

is it morbid to say that while i sorta got avon/blake it didn’t really click for me until that moment where avon shot him? avon's taste in women AND men works out terribly for him. it's equality

jenna’s death didn’t happen onscreen, therefore it didn’t happen <3 i pretend i do not see

i love the way gareth thomas delivers that line about her taking out the ships when she blew herself up tho. like blake doesn’t even have space to mourn one of his closest allies anymore, he just gets the grim satisfaction of knowing at least she did something against the federation with her death

vila fighting back and disarming his opponent only after dayna got shot is like,,,BRUTAL especially considering he’s the one who brings up cally in this episode. i truly do believe he cares about all his crew mates so much under that veneer of cowardice and being the clown, and while i don't think he was ever seriously going to betray them in that moment, i can't help but read into how immediately his attack follows on from dayna getting hurt

speaking of brutal moments. slave says tarrant’s name and it’s so sweet but it’s also what blake at least claims gave tarrant away to him...can’t have any nice moments in this series

soolin my darling underdeveloped queen...you can see all throughout that she’s really not happy about returning ‘home’ and then she gets shot? on the planet she lost her childhood to? for a cause I’m not sure she ever really believed in?

(i do like that dayna is the one who asks her more when she’s talking about her past. they seem very close by this point and that’s a nice illustration of that)

the gunshots continuing in place of the credits music until the names of all the main characters have appeared...yeah. like i know there was a Plan in place should there have been a series 5 but i’m honestly happy things ended here, tragic though it may have been.

blake’s 7 is often a show that’s so good i wish it was better - such great characters who don’t always get utilised to their full potential (the NUMBER of cally possession episodes...get a new plot!), moments of drama that don’t always get their full consequences followed through on, an entire series where the main characters frequently seemed to lack any sense of urgency or drive but which also had my beloved rumours of death in it, ben steed episodes which frankly have nothing much to redeem them - but my god, what an ending. and i really do love this wretched, tragic little show with all my heart even with all of its irritations. time to buy the box set and watch it five billion times!

[hardestgrove]

RHIANNON STUFF

her fave band is America.

she learned to surf with Billy as a kid. was only allowed to keep surfing once she started to hit puberty if she wore a wetsuit. she owns a few bikinis but has worn any without them being under a wetsuit or cover up 💀

as big into marine biology has a kid and still thinks it’s Neat

has only ever gone to dances with her friends and sometimes just opted out completely bc all her friends had dates and billy had a date so she was just gonna be third wheeling like crazy. 100% cried like crazy. hates dances. always feels like a freak in a dress pretending she’s a normal girl. especially since all her friends would have better hair and make up since she’s not like, allowed to do shit.

goes between “just keep your head down and do whatever you need to to survive this shit” and “well if i’m gonna get hit i might as well have earned it [hurls a vase at neil]”. just a switch flips randomly and she begins to Commit Violence. the periods of keeping her head down have gotten shorter as she gets older.

don’t ask her what she wants to do with her life or what jobs she’d like she doesn’t know 💀

worked as a sales associate at the Merry-Go-Round at the Starcourt Mall until it you know.... i’m assuming it opened before may-june/when steve and robin started working in the mall so she’d been working there for several months

lost like half her friends over the years because of her own or billy’s behavior and her making excuses for him.

likes animals and would kill to have a pet cat or dog.

is just as snarky as max and billy. usually her humor tho is more of the like “cry for help but with a laugh track” kind. bc..... it’s a cry for help with a clown nose slapped on it LOL

doesn’t even try to make friends in Hawkins. just doesn’t see the point since she’s never allowed out as is. the closest she gets is jonathan but even that doesn’t get very far since billy keeps inserting himself or dragging her away. eventually she makes friends with billy’s friends like tommy and eddie and steve. and considers it good enough.

100000% been just 👀 at steve since they got here. just stares appreciatively for months until her hand slips and she accidentally does a flirt then just says “fuck it” and commits. this is a pattern in her behavior “did it once, okay fuck it do it a million times seal’s broken”.

steals billy’s jackets and books.

helps brandon with his homework.

max once called her a barbie doll and she proceeded to wrestle/horseplay max into submission and lock her in a closet. then asked her who was the barbie now. genuinely had no time for max’s “i’m not like other girls” era from like 8-12.

bc the idea of the hargroves knowing argyle growing up is SO blessed-- argyle was her first crush and she still thinks he’s Super Neat. they talk about movies a lot. he taught her how to smoke and shotgun a beer. billy is not aware of these facts.

[hannahsmusings]

Renee

*I am too focused on the food to pay any mind to the loud customers that just came in, focused on trying to figure out which one I wanted first, not noticing someone’s eyes on me from afar* *I pick up one of the cali rolls, popping it into my mouth and my eyes widen immediately, nodding fervently as I chew and swallow* Wow, okay, you were right… this is probably the best sushi I’ve ever in a long, long time. Grocery store sushi just doesn’t hold up against the real thing. *I giggle, smiling at Anthony, ignoring the big group that was walking by until I hear one of them obnoxiously yell Anthony’s name as if we were outside and not within 5 feet of one another, glancing up at them and realizing they were all jocks, my stomach tensing as I immediately look for that one familiar face, relaxing a bit when I don’t see Jake among them but still, being around this many jocks made me uneasy, not really trusting them considering how shitty and awful Jake was* *I glance over at Anthony, feeling a swell of safety since he was here but it soon fades when I see his cheeks were slightly pink, my heart feeling like it had cracked into a thousand pieces at his words, how quickly he needed to correct them that this was definitely not a date, assuming his embarrassment had to do with being seen with me, so many memories from that awful summer before college coming back to me where he did the same thing, brushing me off without even noticing, his friends back then not caring about the timid shy awkward girl he spent his time with so he started brushing me off the same way they did and it felt like he was doing it again* *it takes all my self control to not get up and run out of the restaurant right then and there, looking back up at the guys as he introduces them, giving them all a simple smile* Nice to meet you all. *I quickly look away, looking down at my food, not being that timid shy girl anymore and I didn’t feel the need to impress Anthony anymore, I had no desire to be friendly with these people and I wasn’t going to pretend that I did, my appetite completely gone now, wanting to run and hide myself away, crossing my arms over my body protectively, feeling so beyond dumb for believing Anthony had changed and that we could go back to how things were, Anthony fucked that all up before and he was doing it again now*

_________________________________

*all the guys say hi and wave at you, looking across at you with a bright grin and taking stock of our situation, we were here together and sharing food, I thought you were attractive, was this a date? The idea of this bouncing around in my head was so intriguing it was making my stomach twist, knowing I couldn’t dwell on it now but I was sure I’d be thinking this over later* -Anthony

*cocks a brow as you say it wasn’t a date, smirking a little and glancing between you* Not a date? That mean you’re single? *he asks with a smile, playing up a little, him actually being a goofy guy but he liked to be flirty and the clown of the group* How do you two know each other then? - Leon

* I look to you at Leon’s question, realising I didn’t know the answer but god I wanted to, did you have some hunk of a mysterious boyfriend hiding somewhere that treated you like a queen? I probably should have checked before asking you out for sushi, the idea of you being with someone being so foreign to me as we’d always only had each other, not even considering it* *looks to Leon with a smile* Me and Renee go way back, we’ve been best friends since we were kids. Neighbours too. *grins, not even noticing that I talked about our friendship in the present tense because for me, nothing had changed, I still considered us that close we just hadn’t hung out in awhile and I’d already vowed to change that* *looks at you, expecting to find you grinning at me but you weren’t you were looking down at your food and there was this unfamiliar frown on your face, a little confused* - Anthony