#I got like 3 hours total the other night and was a zombie throughout the day | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

arigatouiris · 4 years

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always you // tsukishima x reader

Author’s Note: I am kinda proud of this one because I relate to the reader and Tsukki here so I just projected half of my personalities into either of them hahaha. Again, before I take requests, which I do, I want to finish clearing the works on my draft first. Currently I have two more one shots before my draft is completely clear and so far I have 3 requests in total. Also, I can totally see Tsukki as the pining type and hopeless romantic, yanno? I hope ya’ll like this~

Word count: 6329 words

Pairing: Tsukishima Kei x Reader (Aged up) (College AU)

Warnings: angst, mentions of alcohol, intoxication, intense pining, slight sexual references, eventual fluff, tired reader

If someone would have told Tsukishima Kei that he would miss every single detail about Karasuno when he’d graduate, he’d have laughed at their face. He wasn’t sentimental, anyone who knew Tsukishima knew that he was one of the most practical people they’d ever meet, but here he was, standing beside a particular desk in his 3-4 classroom, staring at an inscription on it that reminded him of you.

The classroom is empty, and the silence echoes in his head constantly. It takes him only a second to think of how loud it would be if it were filled with people—it feels like just yesterday when this very classroom was bustling with joy and laughter, and here you’d sit, reading a book or trying to take a quick nap or doodling.

Looking anywhere but at him.

He let out a breath before feeling his eyes burn, his fingers ghosting over the inscription on the desk. He thinks of your smile directed at him, your hair blowing in the wind, your laughter at something Yamaguchi said, and the way your eyes would glisten when you called out his name.

Tsukki.

His heart was constricting with a familiar sort of pain, the very pain he felt when he broke up with you six months ago; he remembered how your eyes didn’t widen, how tired you looked, how you pressed your lips together, and just walked away. You must have expected it, the way things had been going in the last year. You had your own club activities, and Kei had his dedication to the volleyball club—yet, despite how understanding the both of you had been earlier, third year did not work out.

“Tsukki,” Yamaguchi’s voice broke him out of his stupor, before he pulled his hand away from the inscription. “Do you... Do you want to speak to her?”

He did.

Oh, he missed you with every fibre of his being. He wanted to talk to you, he wanted to bury his fingers in your hair, touch your skin, kiss you till you became breathless and he wanted to see the blush settle on your face because of him. He wanted to apologize and scream at how stupid he was for letting you go, and all of this he had realized in six months of not being around you. People often said that first loves don’t last forever, but Kei wanted nothing more than to make things work with you.

No one understood him like you did; you took his snapping with a bulletproof shield and you were headstrong when he was letting himself feel weak. You didn’t punish him for being himself, instead, you embraced him for everything that came with him being who he was—even the bad parts.

“No.”

But, he knew it was too late. He knew you were probably not even in school. Your medical entrance was not far away, and he knew how hard you were working for it. That’s what he loved most about you. On days when he thought he wasn’t paying much attention to you, he’d be one of the last things on your mind because you had a life of your own. He’d wonder if he was being a bad boyfriend by neglecting you for days, not texting you or calling you, but then he’d hear from Yamaguchi that your club activities kept you so busy that it was hard for you to initiate any contact as well.

And when you two did meet after a week of not talking, you’d embrace him with that calming, quite addictive smile and a soft hug before he pushed you away and made fun of you. He’d secretly do it just to see you pout, which he thought was adorable.

And his heart would break when you’d apologize to him instead. Tsukki, I’m sorry I was so busy, his eyes would widen, The club needed me to finish the reports for the anthology we were preparing—

He’d shut you up each time with a firm kiss. The loud beating of his heart meant that he liked you more than he let you know and he only wondered if that would ever bite him in the ass later.

And it did.

It had been seven months since he had last seen you.

Tsukishima knew you were in Tohoku Medical University, and the last time he had seen you was near his own university, meeting with a bunch of girls. He didn’t approach you, quickly hid himself away at an angle that allowed him to look at you, while you couldn’t see him. You didn’t cut your hair, despite how he believed girls after a relationship would make some change; however, you looked exactly like he remembered, no changes.

Did that mean something? He couldn’t deny how he was feeling upon seeing you there, smiling and talking to people he didn’t know, and he ached for you. To see you was to be seduced by you, and he loved how feisty you were with him.

You weren’t shy, you didn’t have a flat personality like most girls he had met. You were a dangerous combination of everything that could ruin him, personified in a form that always took his breath away. Only he could see you flustered, only his touches could make you sigh and gasp and breathless, and he’d have it no other way.

He yearned for a glimpse of you throughout the day, and only at nights he could see you, be with you. But, somehow, you would be gone when he woke up.

It was a week after that did Tsukishima even tell Yamaguchi that he had seen you, to which the blond got news that he perhaps, could have lived without.

“She’s dating someone.”

Tsukishima’s eyes widen at his friend’s words, who only looked a tad bit uncomfortable at how the blond was staring at him.

“I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have brought it up—”

“Who is it?”

Yamaguchi gulped, unsure if he even had to say anymore. He knew how his friend felt about you, and throwing at him this sudden bit of information could damage him more than he already was. Clearly, Tsukishima Kei had not stopped yearning for you, despite the breakup, despite the gap, despite the almost one year of not being with you.

“It’s someone from her college... Her senpai, I think?”

But, there was no way Yamaguchi could ever lie to Kei. Tsukishima was grateful for the news, but the way it made him feel was not worth knowing the information. He felt a rock settle in between his lungs and every time he breathed he thought of you, and it hurt all the more than it did before. No matter how many deep breaths he took, Tsukishima could not let go of that rock.

“It’s been long anyway,” He couldn’t even hear his own words, “Good for her.”

Yamaguchi was the one who could see the emotions plastered on his friend’s face, and his heart dropped at the mere sight. Of all the years he had known Tsukishima, he had never seen him so exposed, so vulnerable, and without you, he was just a mess. A walking body of high-functioning anxiety, Tsukishima Kei would rather let his demons devour him than reveal that a girl was making him feel so helpless.

But, that girl was you—strength and beauty personified; there was no wonder that Kei fell so hard for you.

Yamaguchi still remembered that day clearly. The first time you two met, in final year of Junior High. Your relationship with Kei was as special as the one he shared with the blond, and even though you didn’t know him as long, it was just as strong, just as precious, and just as important.

In final year of Junior High, your grades suddenly skyrocketed and you were placed in his class—the teacher often comparing your grades with his own, two of the smartest people in class. Though, your smarts did not just come from you paying attention in class, it came from late-night work and intense studying on weekends.

He had learned later on that you could not afford a cram school, so you would often cram by yourself, into ungodly hours on weekdays, and you’d come to class looking like a zombie and he’d snicker only to have you either ignore him or snap back.

Nevertheless, Kei grew to care for you and Yamaguchi noticed. He’d notice how Kei’s advances at making fun of you died down quite a bit afterward, and if he saw you struggling with something, he’d voluntarily walk over to you and offer to help you—surprising Yamaguchi, and himself in many ways, but what blew his mind was how you’d take his help despite the number of times you’d snapped at him, and you’d thank him, genuinely, making his heart feel full.

You’d started calling him Tsukki by the end of that year, and you’d gotten into Karasuno as well. It was as if the three of you were destined now, and slowly, he realized he developed feelings for you.

And even then, it was you who asked him out. Your face was red, your hands were behind your back, hoping that he’d not see that you were practically shaking, and you were a bit scared that he’d make fun of you. The year had just started, and his practice was going to keep him busy, but you liked him. You liked everything about Tsukishima Kei starting from the teasing, the relentless sarcasm, and the unbridled dedication, which was only masked by his nonchalant demeanor.

But, it surprised you when no teasing ensued. You could never forget the way he looked right then—red faced, hand covering half his jaw, looking away from you like his life was on the line.

“Y-Yeah, I know. You free this weekend?”

Kei thought of you every single day after Yamaguchi told him you were dating someone else. He’d think of you with someone, laughing at their jokes, holding their hand, letting them smell your hair or watch you smile, get the chance to see your eyes glisten toward them.

His thoughts now weren’t even that innocent; on odd days, in the loneliness his apartment brought him, Tsukishima thought of you kissing the boy you were dating, having his hands roam all over you, having some man ravage you instead of him. All Tsukishima could do was wonder what it would be like to take your first, what it would feel like to have his hands roam all over you—his thoughts, while not innocent, reflected how utterly alone he felt.

And when Tsukishima woke up every single morning, his mind would go crawling back to you with guilt over how dirty his thoughts were the previous night.

That evening, after practice, Tsukishima noticed Yamaguchi approach him, waving his hands, flailing them from side to side. Tsukishima rolled his eyes at his friend, who merely smiled at the blond before they walked out of the gym together.

“What’s with you today?”

Yamaguchi said, “She broke up with him.”

Tsukishima could not miss the way his heart skipped a beat at what Yamaguchi said. ‘She’ was automatically ‘you’, and that one vague sentence made so much sense to him that it had him thinking of how much you had him wrapped around your finger, without even knowing it. He turned to his friend, who merely nodded, and continued.

“Apparently, he was too clingy. They’re in med school, and she’s not free at all. Now more so than it was in high school, and her senpai kept nagging at her for not spending enough time with her and she called it off a few days ago.”

Tsukishima did not hide the smirk that sat on his lips.

“She was always the individualistic type.” He commented, his voice low.

“Yeah,” Tadashi nodded, “She needs her space, that (y/n).”

Tsukishima was in a way glad that you considered Yamaguchi so close. Some part of his mind wondered if the reason you told Yamaguchi such intricate details of your life was because you wanted him to know about you. Maybe, you knew Tadashi would ultimately tell Kei about everything, and maybe that was what you wanted.

“Tsukki,” Yamaguchi voiced, “I can’t do this anymore...”

His eyes widened at his friend’s sudden revelation.

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe, (y/n)-chan tells me these things hoping I’d not tell you. Maybe, she wants me to tell you, either way, this is exhausting. You still love her, and she... she’s still trying to wrap her head around whatever it is she’s feeling and I feel like I’m caught in the middle here.”

Tsukishima knew that he could feel this way, but there was no way he could allow himself to lose the one thing that linked him to you. That one thing being Yamaguchi.

“Yama—”

“Tsukki, please.”

Kei turned away before pressing his lips into a thin line. He understands, but he doesn’t like it. Yamaguchi knows that his friend doesn’t appreciate it, but the fact that Tsukishima Kei would never wish for someone’s unhappiness over his selfish desires was what kept their friendship going.

Just as he was about to fall asleep that night, his phone rings. He’d not miss the number anywhere, his eyes were saucers as they were staring at your name on his phone screen, calling him at 1 a.m., almost as if you were used to calling him all these months.

His fingers ghost around the phone screen before deciding to pick the call, his heart rummaging in his chest the entire time.

“(y/n)?”

“Tsukki?”

In that one utterance, Tsukishima knew something was wrong. You weren’t yourself, there was something different, something that showcased that you were not entirely sane at that second. His stomach plummeted to the bottom when he realized what was actually going on.

“Are you... are you drunk?”

You let out a bitter laugh before scoffing, “No, you’re drunk. Loser.”

He was suddenly very, very annoyed. He instantly got up, grabbing his jacket, checking the time once again before getting shocked once again at how careless you were being.

“Where the hell are you? I’m coming to get you—”

“I’m being followed, Tsukki.”

He could puke right now. In all his 20 years of life, he has never felt this scared. He felt the back of his eyelids burn, begging him to let himself cry, but if he had a breakdown it would only delay in getting to you. He needed to get you safe, he needed to ensure that you were within four walls, untouched, unscathed.

“Where are you?”

“Inside a 7 Eleven... I think this is the one near Sendai?”

He knows where you are, but that doesn’t give him any sort of relief.

“Stay there. Do you understand me? Stay right there, and don’t fucking hang up.”

He doesn’t even bother to take his wallet, Tsukishima bolts out of his apartment, locking it, running towards the particular store you were in. He spots you from outside, you were not dressed provocatively, a fact that he was grateful for, and rushed inside to grab you by your wrist. You instantly pulled away, before looking up and realizing it was Tsukishima.

Your eyes widened at his sudden arrival before he noticed how flushed your face was. You were so beautiful, it was breathtaking, but right now, all he could feel was unbridled anger.

“No one’s following you, (y/n). What the fuck is wrong with you? Why did you—”

“I was being paranoid? Man, I really need to sit down—”

“Who left you here?” Tsukishima asked, anger bubbling in his chest.

He pulled you out of the store before leading you to his apartment. Walking with you there would take you ten minutes easily, but this part he didn’t care. He was glad that you were safe, but he was still angry at how careless your actions were.

“My ex left me there. He wanted to talk about something, I think? But I just didn’t want to listen to him,” Kei looked at you from the side, his hand wrapped around your wrist, “I kept chugging one drink after another because I was just...”

He saw the eye bags under your eyes and he saw how dry your lips were. You were clearly dehydrated, and you looked devastatingly tired. Med school wasn’t a walk in the park, but seeing you like this, almost defeated, somehow reminded him of himself.

“...I was just so tired.”

Kei’s eyes did not leave your form. He was hyperaware that the two of you hadn’t reached home yet, and whatever conversation he was going to have with you, he understood that right now wasn’t the best time. You were intoxicated, and by the looks of it, you were probably not going to remember anything of what was happening at the moment.

A few more minutes later, Tsukishima had dragged you into his apartment, and latched the door behind him. He was grateful that he didn’t need to share his space with anyone, which meant he could avoid idiotic questions like ‘who’s the girl?’ or ‘it’s so late in the night, though?’, because right then, all Tsukishima wanted was answers from you, whether you were in a drunken stupor or not. Handing you a large glass of water and glaring at you until you drank it, Kei forced you to sit on the edge of his bed and watched you keenly.

“Apparently senpai wanted to get back together,” You said, surprisingly sounding a lot less drunk.

But, judging from your eyes and the way you were unable to focus on his unmoving form, which was right in front of you, he was certain that the alcohol was still in your system. Kei’s heart went out to how sad you actually looked, your light pink sweater was still neat, your jeans unstained, your hair tied in a messy bun—you weren’t dressed for drinks. It was perhaps either spontaneous or you were pushed to a point where you were so pissed off that drinking seemed the only way out.

“Did he... Did he do anything?”

Tsukishima felt stupid for even attempting to ask you this, but he calmed down when he saw you smile to yourself.

“No, I had pepper spray in my pocket.”

“Had?”

“I think I lost it now.”

Kei wanted to slap himself. You weren’t always like this. You weren’t someone who would resort to something so dangerous and reckless. He couldn’t help but think if this was in some way your method of coping, your method of healing from the breakup—was this your breakup formula, the inevitable course of action that you were supposed to take after he broke your heart?

“I ended up calling my other ex.” You laughed, somewhat bitterly, causing Tsukishima’s stomach to drop.

You were drunk, but you clearly knew who he was and where you were. You may have been a lightweight but somehow, he was impressed with how you were holding your liquor, Kei leaned down in front of you and just watched you, his eyes were surprisingly soft, his fingers dying to touch you—unafraid because he knew you would not remember these moments with him.

“I don’t want to tell you anything I’ll regret in the morning,” You whispered, causing his eyes to widen.

“What does that mean?” He asked, desperately, inching closer to you, but being sure to not make you uncomfortable.

You shook your head before blinking away tears that threatened to come your way. Tsukishima gaped, breathless, at how even intoxicated, you were the single most breathtaking person he had ever laid his eyes on.

“Please sleep.” He said, standing up, and leaving you in his room. He wasn’t going to fit on the couch, but there was no other option.

Even if his bed could fit the both of you, Kei would rather you sleep well and comfortably, than he would. Besides, he was sure that if he slept beside you (or even on the couch), he wouldn’t get to stay asleep for long either way.

When you wake up, you took a few seconds to bolt upwards, check your surroundings and then yourself. Your wallet, keys to your apartment, and your hair tie were on a table beside the bed, where a couple of aspirin and a water bottle was placed too. Getting up too fast was not good for you, your head spun around so sharply that you were inches away from puking.

“Where...?”

A moment later, you got up from the bed—after having taken the medicine and water, left there by god knows who, you inched your way to the living room of this strange person, wanting to thank them for sheltering you for the night. You felt shame hit your veins, you can’t believe you had done something like this—especially alone; and you could only wonder if a creep had sheltered you.

But, the person you saw on the couch was Tsukishima Kei, your ex-boyfriend from high school, struggling to stay asleep on the couch. Your heart broke at the sight of the tall boy, barely fitting into the couch, knowing full well that another step and he’ll wake up.

On odd days, you wondered why he broke up with you. On odd days, you missed him so much that you could cry. On days like today, your heart was barely fill and you were certain that a certain blond was the reason you craved doing reckless things—reckless because some part of you wished with all it had that he would come save you. He stirred awake, almost alerted by how you were just standing there, without making a sound.

When his eyes met yours, he scoffed rudely—as expected—before sitting up, and leaning his head against the headrest.

“Tsukishima—”

“I knew med students were crazy, but wow,” Your eyes widened at his words, “What the fuck, (l/n)?”

You had descended down to your last name with him, and the acknowledgement of it shattered your heart. You felt tears prick your eyes instantly, but you were not going to show any sort of weakness in front of him, not after last night—not after whatever could have happened.

“What happened last night?” You couldn’t bare the sound of your voice, at how groggy and hungover you sounded.

Tsukishima made it evident that he didn’t like it too, but chose to keep his words to himself.

“Nothing dirty happened, just you, throwing yourself into a depressing pit of alcohol drinking and embarrassing yourself.”

You frowned. There was no need for him to be plain mean about it. Sure, he had helped you, but that was it, right?

“Thanks for last night.” You wanted to ignore his words, you wanted to let it go and not fuel him into saying anything more.

“I won’t be surprised if this happens again, you know? Judging from how you’ve turned out—”

“Tsukishima!” You snapped, causing him to wince at his own words.

He didn’t dare look at you. He knew he had crossed the line, he knew he had said something to deliberately hurt you, and that had hurt you, but facing you would break him. What a coward, his mind scolded him, before he heard shuffling coming from where you stood.

“You see, I’m not surprised,” You said, pressing your lips together. “You were always this bitter.”

Tsukishima could hear your voice break. Way to go, he thought, you made her cry again. He gulped before attempting to turn to you, but he noticed that your back was facing him now—making him feel somewhat relieved, but scared at the same time.

I am so glad you’re okay, was what he wanted to say.

“No shit,” was what came out.

He noticed how your shoulders trembled now, as you reached down to grab your shoes. Tsukishima wanted to stand up and stop you, hold you in his embrace and beg for you to stay because if it were him, he’d not even dare give himself another chance—but you, you were forgiving and kind and gentle, all things that drove him up the wall yet made him fall so devastatingly in love with you.

Please don’t go, he wanted to say.

“Get out, (l/n),” was what came out.

You shook your head, “I can’t believe I’m like this because of you.”

Tsukishima felt the wind get knocked out of him, but before he could stop you, before he could find answers or any sort of confirmation at what you said, before he could even think of what was going on, unfortunately for him, he was frozen to where he stood and was forced to watch you leave.

He felt his fingers shake, and he looked down at his hands, which got blurrier and blurrier at each second, as he fought the urge to slap himself. Of course, he thought internally, if he was a mess of a human being, finding unhealthy coping mechanisms by trying to learn about what you were doing, stalking your social media, staring at pictures of you from Yamaguchi’s profile, reading his old chats with you, and everything that would perhaps never let him move on from you; then so were you.

He was the one who broke up with you, after all. If anything, you’d be the one in a much, much more difficult path.

Tsukishima did not go to class that day, and he missed practice. His captain called him multiple times, to which he merely replied saying he had the stomach bug—his captain was a lot like Kageyama, but for some reason, even he understood the importance of an optimum immune system and told Tsukishima he had to take the day off, no issues from that. Yamaguchi inquired about his sudden absence, but he merely said ‘I’m tired’ to him and left it at that.

But, oh boy, he was trying to call you, alright.

Tsukishima perhaps would have called you fifteen times in the last hour, with each of those calls ignored. After the barrage of calls, he left a barrage of messages, each asking you to pick up or call him back, suddenly forgetting the need to act as if he was high and mighty—no, if you were hurting as well, and he was hurting beyond belief, he had to fix it. A dialogue was the only thing that could put things back to normal, and hell be with Tsukishima keeping face. If this meant that he had to bow down and scream an apology, then so be it.

Hey. Pick up.

Hey. Call me.

Please, call me back.

Are you busy? Call me.

I know you’re ignoring me, call me back.

(y/n). Please. Call me.

What if this was an emergency? Call me, (y/n).

Tsukishima looked at his own messages and thought about what was wrong with him. After almost a year and a half of radio silence, here he was, literally begging for you to call him back after he had done something so fucking idiotic. He had a lot more to apologize for, he knew it, but he could only do so if you gave him that chance.

It was around 7 p.m., when you called back.

“(y/n)—”

“I had lab time, Tsukishima. What do you want?”

You were busy. You were perhaps so busy you couldn’t check your phone. Of course, you were studying to become a doctor. You weren’t ignoring him. Somehow, this fact resonated well with his heart. Even your ‘what do you want’ sounded more tired than angry, and he could hear the lag in your voice to confirm the same.

“I need to talk to you—”

“Well, you made it clear that you didn’t want anything to do with me earlier today.”

“Please,” He felt so out of character, but right then he didn’t care, “Let me see you.”

“I...” He heard you sigh deeply, “I can’t today, really. I missed lab work yesterday because... because of that stupid bar night, and now I have to make up for the lost time. I’ll probably be here studying all night.”

“Okay then.”

You were confused when he cut the call, but you assumed he was just tired of trying. You weren’t making an excuse; you stared at your phone, where just a moment ago your ex-boyfriend’s name was flashed up. You lick your lips and realize it’s been four hours since you had a sip of water. You clearly weren’t taking good care of yourself, and if Tsukishima was still with you, he’d reprimand you to no end.

Oh, you missed him.

You missed how he’d scold you for these reckless things you’d do. He knew about your habit of never drinking water, just surviving on licking your lips and sipping water after meals here and there. He hated that bit about you and he made it his personal responsibility to ensure you drank at least a bottle of water whenever he was around.

You missed the way he cared for you, so subtle yet loud—it resonated like his personality and you’d sometimes find yourself caring about your well-being because he cared; and even though the motivation here was incorrect, it brought the desired result regardless.

You missed him so much, it was like suddenly having lost a part of your body. It was as though you had lost an arm or leg but still instinctively reach out to feel your missing limb or try to walk again, placing your entire weight on something that was no longer there.

Swallowing the intense feelings you were experiencing, you buried yourself into the work you had ignored the previous evening and started to work. Medical school was exhausting even without the emotional baggage you managed to carry with you every single day.

What you expected would take you a couple of hours merely extended and you were in the lab till 2 a.m. Your eyelids were heavier than they had ever been before and you felt like your legs were jelly. You didn’t care about the way you looked right then, but you were certain that you looked half-dead. You couldn’t remember the last time you had eaten, and you noticed that the water bottle you had got for yourself earlier that day was still untouched.

Sighing, you grab your things and prepared to trek all the way home. A simple walk would feel like a trek, your feet felt like they were bleeding from the soles. However, the second you stepped out through the hospital exit (the college exit was closed), your footsteps came to a halt.

Tsukishima sat there, by the bench near the parking and your heart skipped a beat. What is he...?

He noticed movement from the side of his view and spotted you there. He instantly stood up, before realizing that you were busy (once again), of how you poured your all into everything that you cared about. This only made him wonder how much you had poured yourself into him.

“What are you doing here?”

You sounded so tired, it was so strange. He had never heard you sound almost defeated—he took one good look at you then; chapped lips, dark circles, disheveled hair; he knew you were dehydrated, hungry, exhausted and you had not once thought of these things.

“I’m hungry.”

You blink and sigh, “Tsukishima, I’ve had a long—”

“Please, come with me.”

You’ve never heard him say please so many times in one day. Your heart is weak for him still, and you follow him to the nearest 7 Eleven. You were wearing your white coat, a purple full sleeved top and the same jeans you were last night. You looked to find him wearing exactly what he was wearing that morning when you saw him, the black full sleeve tee, brown jacket and blue jeans. No matter what he wore, he always managed to look so devastatingly beautiful.

“Eat something.”

You didn’t have the energy to argue with him, you bought a sandwich for yourself and he got some ramen (for some reason, he chose your favorite flavor), and the two of you went out to sit by a park bench, isolated from the world. Your apartment was merely a five-minute walk from where you were, but that didn’t matter right then.

“You obviously still like me.” He said, somehow his voice not condescending or witty.

“Obviously.” You admit, because you were too tired to argue.

You heard him chuckle, but you were busy eating your sandwich, the bottle of water beside you suddenly looked like the most tempting thing in the world. What you missed was how Tsukishima’s hands were trembling as he linked them together in front of him, leaning forward on where he sat.

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” You say, realizing the sandwich did nothing to quench your hunger.

“I know.” He sounded so defeated, before turning to you and handing you the cup ramen.

I knew he was going to do this, you thought, tears pricking your eyes. He bought your favorite flavor because he knew.

Tsukki, you took the cup ramen without hesitation, you can’t do this to me.

“Why,” You stared at the cup ramen, “Why can’t you just tell me what’s on your mind?”

You heard no response from him. You took exactly two sips from the water bottle and dug into the cup ramen. But you stopped eating midway, shaking your head.

“Kei,” You jumped to third year high school again, “Please, I can’t... I will leave if you don’t stop me.”

There was no attempt made. You turned to see him staring at the ground, emotionlessly. You couldn’t decipher what you were feeling, but you certainly couldn’t try to decipher what he was feeling either. His silence left you breathless, all of a sudden you want to cry and scream, you wonder what you did wrong, you wonder what happened—why was he the way he was? Did you make him mistrust you in anyway?

A sob exited your mouth, but your trembling lips capture the rest.

However, Tsukishima Kei’s trembling hands raised to his face and he cried; your eyes widening at his sudden reveal. You quickly place the cup ramen to your side and turn to face him, your sweet boy, the boy you had so willingly given your heart to, crying his heart out, sobs ugly, tears streaking down his gorgeous face. The sight kills you.

“It’s so fucking hard to see you happy,”

You’re confused, but you knew he didn’t mean the words to their exact meaning. There had to be something else. He didn’t want you to be happy? What the fuck?

“And I’m not there...”

Ah.

“You... You don’t need me and that kills me...”

You were quick to kneel down in front of him, your fingers trembling, your knee trembling, your legs quivering, but your heart was strong enough. All you needed right now was your heart.

“I don’t need you,” Your voice was a whisper only he could hear.

Kei rolled his eyes, and you noticed how wet they were from the crying. Your right hand wiped some of the tears from his face before you took a breath.

“But I want you. Always, always you.”

It was Kei’s turn to meet your gaze. You were staring at him, a soft smile on your features.

Why was it that it was always you who would assure him when things were wrong? Why was it that you were always saving him? Either from a misunderstanding, a fight or most often, from himself?

He felt so weak when he was around you. He didn’t know if it was a curse or a blessing.

“No one compares to you. And as bad as that sounds, I couldn’t stop thinking of you, no matter who I’m with. No one compares to your brash, asshole self.”

You let out a giggle and notice how wide his eyes were. You want to kiss him, but you hold back.

“I love you so much, but it’s hard, Kei... It’s hard if you don’t give me bit of an edge, you know?”

Your hand which was on his face, Kei suddenly took it and kissed the back of it, surprising you.

“I love you,” He kisses it again, “I am so in love with you.”

You could only smile. You leaned forward, before pressing your lips to his; Tsukishima could feel how chapped your lips were, but that didn’t stop him from kissing you back fervently. His hand rushed to the side of your face, before pressing you to him, not hard enough that you fall down—he was painfully aware of how tired you were. He pulled away before pecking your lips a few times, kissing below your lower lip and staring at you, lovingly.

“All of this pain could have been avoided if you just accepted what you were feeling, you know that right?”

You were right.

You were always right when it came to him, no one knew him as well as you did. You knew every inch of his soul because it belonged to you, and there was no taking back. And while he was aware that he had to work on some aspects of himself, Kei suddenly felt confident. Looking at you, kneeling in front of him like that, despite how tired you were, despite how shitty of a day it had been, he was sure that with you, he could do anything.

Suddenly, his mind travelled back to your desk in class 3-4, with the inscription that he could not stop touching back on the day of your graduation.

kei + y/n

A simple jumble of words. Enough to break his heart, or make it. He wondered if he’ll ever tell you he created a small forever for the both of you in that classroom.

Well, he thought, forcing you to drink water, Maybe someday.

#tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #kei #tsukishima #tsukki #tsukki x reader #reader insert #yamaguchi #sandai frogs #kei tsukishima x reader #karasuno #haikyuu tsukishima #tsukishima imagine #tsukishima angst #tsukishima fluff #angst to fluff

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willel · 3 years

Text

Oh. You know a movie Stranger Things took inspiration from that takes place in California?

I totally forgot about this. 👀

It's called.... Poltergeist! Shocking right?

If you haven't seen Poltergeist (1982), you definitely should. It's almost required watching at this point. Don't expect it to be super scary by today's horror movie standards. At best it'd be PG-13 and it was made before PG-13 was a thing so it's just PG.

If you haven't seen the movie, SPOILERS!

Poltergeist takes place in a newer housing development in California.

The movie starts off similarly to Stranger Things. We see the every day lives of these characters living their best life, chilling during a sunny afternoon. The dad is watching a football game with the boys. The mom is cooking food I think. The kids are playing around. Etc.

As the movie progresses, weird stuff starts happening throughout the home. The daughter, Carol Anne, starts hearing voices throughout the house and the TVs. Their kitchen becomes a weird playground for the ghosts where they rearrange the seating and even send you flying across the room (in a good way) if you sit in the right spot. It's all innocent fun.

Until one night, a not so friendly entity seems to make itself known. During the night of the storm, the tree in their yard becomes possessed and literally tries to eat their son. While they're distracted with that, the evil spirit kidnaps Carol Anne through her own closet to another dimension.

From there, the plot plays out similarly to Stranger Things. Carol Anne (aka Will Byers) still somehow makes her presence known to her family, but mostly her mother Diane (who is confirmed in sequel films to be supernaturally sensitive, as is Carol Anne herself hence the kidnapping by the spirits)

With the help of an "expert" supernatural team, Diane braves entering the dimension herself to get Carol Anne out.

The peace doesn't last long though. Angered that Carol Anne was taken from it, the main evil spirit goes nuclear, attacking the family while the father, Steven, was away for a few hours. The spirit tries again to drag Carol Anne AND her brother back to the other side.

Diane, in trying to rescue her babies, does everything she can to get to them. At some point she ends up outside and falls into their half built pool. Bodies them float out of the pool all around her. It's pretty scary.

Unbeknownst to the main characters and their neighbors, the houses were built on top of a cemetery. Problem is, they only moved the headstones, not the bodies. That's why all the spirits are around, good and bad.

They manage to narrowly escape the house with the children as the house starts to collapse in on itself until it quite literally disappears. The rest of the neighborhood also starts to fall apart as caskets and skeletons just start shooting out of the ground like a zombie movie except the zombies don't actually move, they just wanted to let you know they're chilling down below. Lol

But back to the main reason I wrote this post...

Wouldn't it be interesting if the Byers got this awesome deal on this awesome house in California, something they wouldn't normally be able to afford. But then everything starts falling apart in the house or something?

Like "Wow, for some reason, this house is weirdly close to the boundary between the upside down and right side up!"

How that would be possible, I dunno. Maybe the houses were build on some old military or government facility that wasn't properly cleaned or sealed up. That happens right?

I just looked it up. Yep. The Department of Energy (aka the same people from Hawkins Lab)

The Santa Susana Field Laboratory is a complex of industrial research and development facilities located on a 2,668-acre (1,080 ha)[1] portion of the Southern California Simi Hills in Simi Valley, California. It was used mainly for the development and testing of liquid-propellant rocket engines for the United States space program from 1949 to 2006,[1] nuclear reactors from 1953 to 1980 and the operation of a U.S. government-sponsored liquid metals research center from 1966 to 1998.[2] The site is located approximately 7 miles (11 km) northwest from the community of Canoga Park and approximately 30 miles (48 km) northwest of Downtown Los Angeles. Sage Ranch Park is adjacent on part of the northern boundary and the community of Bell Canyon along the entire southern boundary.

Apparently the site is/was still there and is very contaminated, affecting the communities surrounding it.

So here's a... theory, I guess? Or just a fanfiction idea. The Byers get this awesome deal for this brand new house. The Byers, the people who usually can't afford anything, gets this new house and it's SO nice. Despite all the angst they probably still feel after season 3, they all gotta admit a new house is pretty awesome and they love it?

But the longer they live there (which I imagine won't be too long), weird stuff starts happening around them. Maybe El gets nightmares. Maybe they feel like they're being watched. Maybe Will continues getting the horrible chill down his spine.

And they soon realize not only is the Department of Energy down the street (the same government agency behind El's horrific childhood), they also have secretly contaminated the entire surrounding area and have possibly weakened the barrier between the real world and the Upside Down or something???

I dunno. Like I said, at least it'd be a cool fanfiction idea!

Like seriously, I would totally read this.

The Byers get this weird house deal in California. They love it. Joyce and Jonathan get jobs. Jonathan gets a friend, Joyce too maybe. Everything seems kinda ok for once.

But El and Will's school sucks. El starts having nightmares. Will starts getting chills he can't get rid of. Jonathan's friend starts telling him strangely familiar weird things he saw once while he was high. Joyce notices someone is following her around.

Yessssssss

Hard part is, I have no idea how I'd tie a fic like that back into Hawkin's or the whole Hopper plot. Hm.

#stranger things #poltergeist #will byers #el hopper #jane hopper #joyce byers #jonathan byers #theory

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shinisbestboy · 3 years

Text

was bored so I thought I'd try writing again since I liked it so much the first time :)

contains joemaru because there is not enough of them online

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a lazy weekend afternoon.. Joe was at his house, playing video games and relaxing as he ignores all the homework he knew Sara will kill him for later. he ate a slice of reheated pizza from.. last night? a few days ago? didn't really matter, he wasn't letting a good piece of pizza go to waste! he was quite engrossed in his game of Zombie Slayers V3 (return of the Chad plague) that he didn't notice his phone ringing.. it vibrated loudly, Joe needed to pause his game so he could pick it up

"Y'ello? your boy Joe here" he started, as he was a creature of habit. the voice on the other side didn't pay it much mind "Joe I need to talk to you about something" it was the familiar sound of Sara.. she seemed a little stressed from what Joe could tell so he decided to take it more semi-seriously "what's up? you decide to confess your undying love for me yet?" he chuckled.. he sure had a loose definition of 'semi-serious'.. lightening up the mood couldn't hurt tho

Sara huffed, Joe imagined her blushing pouty expression and it made him smile.. Sara always looked her best when all flustered "not that!! ugh, no this is important! do you remember that guy I was telling you about at school? the new transfer boy with the white hair?" Sara explained, Joe tilted his head back as he tried to remember "you mean that Ranmaru guy? kinda looks like a dandelion up top?" he asked "yes that's him! we were talking on the phone and he totally asked me out! like he called it a date and everything! I didn't know what to say, I mean I barely know the guy so I wanted to say no but I panicked! now I have a date *tonight* and I seriously don't know how to tell him I'm not interested!" Sara spoke very quickly, definitely needing to get this situation off her chest.

Joe needed a moment to process the words but this was regular panicky Sara.. he could decipher what she said easily. he hummed "so you need a wingman, huh? then I gotcha Sara! I'm a total love expert, you two will be communicating so hard that he'll forget all about the whole silly date!" Joe chuckled, not earning one in return "don't make me regret this.. just meet me at my place in 20 minutes" Sara sighed as she quickly ended the call. Joe stood up from his seat, pizza forgotten and the game saved, finally something exciting to do! I mean he loved video games but there are only so many hours you can handle killing zombies

after getting dressed and packing his bookbag of the dating essentials, he took his bike and quickly made his way to Sara's house down the road. it didn't take long before he parked his bike on the side of the house and went to the main entrance. Sara was obviously there waiting for him, she let him in so they could go up to her room. poor Sara was a mess.. she wasn't so good at the whole high school romance thing, it's a good thing she had her good old pal Joe! "so.. what's the plan? we getting you all pretty'd up to break his heart or we ditching together?" Joe broke the silence as Sara didn't seem to know where to start "I mean.. I don't want to be cruel! maybe.. when he shows up, pretend to be my dad? or just tell him I'm sick in bed! or uh.. make something up, anything will do! I just can't do it myself!" Sara seemed defeated already, usually problems always had a solution with her but this was way out of her comfort zone, Joe understood how she felt

"if that's all it is, then I can do that no problem! seriously, you don't gotta worry about a thing, your good pal Joe is on the case!" he confidently puffed out his chest, this did not give Sara as much confidence as he intended but it didn't matter. a loud ring of the doorbell could be heard throughout the whole house, Joe hummed "wow.. he certainly got here fast.. time to work my charm!" they both got up tho Joe was the one brave enough to venture down the stairs.. Sara was safe from her hiding spot with a view to make sure Joe doesn't royally mess this up

Joe opened the door to be face to face with the shorter fluffy male, he looked not very well prepared.. he probably rushed to get here just like Joe did.. he looked much nicer in more casual clothes tho compared to the school uniform Joe would see at school. Joe smiled "hey! you're Ranmaru from school, aren't cha? I heard so much about you! I'm Joe" he happily introduced himself, taking the nervous boy's hand and happily shaking it. Ranmaru was a little shaken as he hadn't prepared to see anyone but Sara at the door.. this wasn't what he was expecting at all "o-oh um, yeah that's me" he didn't quite know what else to say to that.. I mean he didn't think anyone really knew his name anyway, he shook himself out of his spout of nervousness tho as he had a mission right now. taking his hand back, Ranmaru tried to stand a bit taller "is Sara here? or do I.. have the wrong house..?" he asked, he chuckled awkwardly.. he would feel very embarrassed if he was bothering a random person right now! he was already nervous enough for this date..

"Sara? oh yeah, she uh.. she's super sick right now! barfin' her guts out, not fun at all. she wanted to say no but she's just too polite, you know?" Joe wasn't the best at lying but by Ranmaru's concerned expression.. it looks like it worked easily "oh no! I had no idea! oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to put any pressure on her like that! I just have these movie tickets, but if she's not free then that's totally fine I don't mind" Ranmaru quickly backpedaled, panicking as he realized he may have been too quick to think it'd be that easy. it was weird since Sara didn't sound very sick.. but he definitely had no right to doubt anything, that'd just be nosy and all

unfortunately Joe's interest was perked "ooh wait, movie you say? what kind of movie was it?" he asked, he knew it might be a little salt on the wound to talk about since Sara wasn't going but his curiosity got the better of him. Ranmaru didn't expect any sort of interest from Joe.. but he took the folded-up ticket from his pocket to double-check "it was just the new Zombie Slayer 4.0 movie, Karen vs Chad Jr.. or something like that. I got these tickets for free so probably not the best--" Ranmaru was cut off by an excited Joe "woah wait, you were going to take Sara on a date like that?? she's way not into the zombie slayer series, I have tried getting her into it! trust me on this one, it wouldn't have ended nicely" he chuckled, Sara, unfortunately, was not the cute 'oh no this is scary, I will cling up to the closest person.. she was more of an 'I brought my katana for this very reason' and the tv is covered in sword cracks because of it.. Joe couldn't imagine seeing that happen in a movie theater, tho it would be a funny sight

Ranmaru sighed "I see.. dodged a bullet there then, heh.." he tried to sound optimistic but this wasn't looking good at all.. I mean first, he hears Sara is sick and now the date he was all mentally prepared for was probably going to flop anyway? a great boost for his ego.. he's glad he avoided the worst-case scenarios but he still wished it could have gone better "well.. I don't want to keep bothering you.." the sheep mumbled as he stood back, ready to call it quits. Joe stopped him "oh wait if you've got two tickets then can I come? I mean don't wanna let them go to waste, right?" it was worth a shot, if Sara wasn't going to take a date with the cute boy then Joe will just have to do it for her! plus he seemed like a nice guy, might as well get to know him, right?

Ranmaru was definitely caught off guard by this "huh?? you want to watch a movie with me?" he blushed, the soft pink on his cheeks was very visible on his pale skin.. Joe thought it was cute "yeah of course! zombie slayers is definitely a best friends movie, you know? come on let's go!" Joe closed the door behind him with a smile.. leaving Sara unable to keep seeing what was happening. "well, what are you waiting for?" Joe asked the dumbfounded male, who was definitely speechless by the sudden change of plans but after a moment he thought maybe this wasn't so bad "nothing.. I'm ready to go" he nodded, catching up to Joe as they left on their "date"

((ooc// I will probably write the rest in a part 2 cause this is already getting so long, tysm for reading, and don't be afraid to send me asks <3))

#joe tazuna #ranmaru kageyama #joe tazuna x kageyama #joemaru #yttd joe #yttd kin blog #yttd #your turn to die #implied sara x joe #its only friendly flirting tho #implied sara x ranmaru #sara chidouin #fanfiction #drabble #yttd writing #yttd fanfiction

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ringa-starr · 3 years

Text

More Precious Than Any Pearl (Pt 1/3)

This was requested a long while ago by my friend @brookemccarter. I’ll admit I am the world’s WORST and SLOWEST when it comes to writing but I try my best. I don’t want to write so much that I burn myself out on it like I did on another site many, many years ago. So I apologize (and I will again and again) to anyone who requests something from me whether it be months or even a year or so ago.

It’s because of this that I am splitting her request up into three parts.

I appreciate you all for reading and if you would like to be added to my taglist, please feel free to message me!

Enjoy everyone and I’ll be back with part 2 sometime!

-Love Deidra

Trigger(s): None that I can think of Words: 1.7k

1987, Preston Home, San Dimas, California

The grandfather clock in Bill S. Preston Esq.’s living room chimed loudly throughout the whole house announcing that the time had just struck 6:00 p.m. Upstairs, Bill’s father Mr. Preston was on the phone with one of his business associates, hurrying around the entire upper floor of the family’s split level home, trying to get the last of everything ready in time for a very important business meeting that he and his wife, his much younger wife in fact, Missy were to be attending at 8 o’clock that evening. Missy was sitting in front of her vanity mirror in their shared bedroom, checking herself over for what seemed like the tenth time in the last hour, making sure her long blonde hair was styled perfectly in a simple French braid easing its way down her back with a few cute little braids in the front, small, fake plum roses decorating the French braid nicely. The young woman smiled at herself in the mirror before applying one last bit of natural, pale pink lipstick. Mr. Preston hurriedly hung up his phone, still pacing between the bedroom and the hallway.

“Okay, okay”, the older man mumbled in a panic as he tried to collect his thoughts, looking down at himself before starting to fix his plum purple tie. He started going over the list of preparations in his head. “We’re reserved, my speech is memorized, I’ve got my notes just in case...” He cut himself off. There was one last thing he was forgetting; he was sure of it! But he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was, and it was about to drive him crazy!

As if on a perfect cue, the opening notes to ‘Thriller’ by Michael Jackson filled the entire lower floor of the house with sound.

That’s it! Mr. Preston thought to himself.

Bill and Ted!

Bill’s father hurried to the hallway banister, gripping it in his hands as he looked down at his 15-year-old son and his best friend Ted “Theodore” Logan playing air guitars to the music, going into full Thriller dance mode when Michael started singing.

“Bill!” Mr. Preston called from his spot on the second floor. He got no response.

“Bill!” the older man tried again and still nothing.

‘I don’t have time for this!’ Mr. Preston thought as he hurried down the stairs. He reached behind the large stereo and unplugged it, the living room going completely silent. As soon as the music was off, Bill and Ted stopped and looked at Bill’s father, a look of mixed confusion and surprise on their faces.

“Now that I have your attention”, Mr. Preston told Bill, “Your mother and I are going to a dinner party my boss is throwing and we expect you to keep this place intact while we’re gone.”

Bill gave his father a smile, Ted giving the older man his infamous goofy grin as well. “Not a problem, most excellent parental figure”, Bill tried to assure his father. “My most trusted collogue Ted and I will be more than happy to make sure this place is in its most excellent condition for your return.” In response, Ted nodded his head happily.

All Mr. Preston could do was sigh, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and pointer finger but before he could say anything, the three heard Missy’s sweet as honey voice at the top of the stairs.

“Are you ready, Honey?” she asked, causing Mr. Preston, Bill and Ted to look in her direction. Ted’s mouth dropped open.

“Whoa!” he gasped softly so only Bill could hear as Missy slowly walked down the staircase with a beautiful smile on her face. “Your mom looks totally hot dude!”

“Shut up, Ted!” Bill hissed back with a silent sigh of annoyance.

Knowing it would be a long drive there, Mr. Preston smiled as he helped Missy with her jacket before sliding into his own, turning his attention back to Bill and Ted.

“Remember Bill”, Mr. Preston told his son in a warning tone as he opened the front door, letting Missy walk out first, “if we come back and find that something’s happened, it’s going to be a real thriller night for you.”

Ted softly chuckled at his best friend’s father’s corny pun as Bill nodded. “Yes, Sir”, Bill replied before his father walked out, shutting and locking the door behind him.

As soon as his parents’ car couldn’t be heard anymore, Bill sighed and rolled his eyes as he and Ted walked back to the stereo. “Your dad can be really corny sometimes, Bill”, Ted commented as he turned the volume on the stereo down. Bill reached behind the stereo and plugged it back in, Michael Jackson’s singing filling the living room again only at a slightly softer volume this time. “I know”, Bill agreed with a smile, “but what can ya do?” He shrugged and smiled wider as he turned the volume dial up again, allowing him and Ted to get back to their most excellent Friday night!

Things were going well for most of the song until Ted started doing a solo version of the Thriller routine during the long instrumental portion that took place right before Vincent Prince’s ‘rap’. Ted started the famous dance routine right from the beginning, imagining himself in Michael Jackson’s shoes during the zombie dance sequence of the song’s music video. He even pictured himself wearing the superstar’s acclaimed red faux leather jacket with matching pants dancing around a large circle of the undead. Ted was so in the moment; he didn’t realize anything was even around him.

At that moment, he had his back to Bill, jumping back around so he was facing his best friend. Ted was still lost in his fantasy as he threw his left arm over his head, grabbing and punching the air several times.

In the midst of the music, Bill stopped short, hearing something shatter to the floor. When the blonde quickly turned around, his mouth dropped open, panic running through his entire body. There, on the hardwood floor in front of the grand fireplace, lay Missy’s most prized procession: a Victorian necklace which was now shattered into a thousand pieces, the only thing still being completely intact was the purple amethyst stone that once lay right in the center of the vintage piece of jewelry.

All Bill could do was stare back and forth between the necklace and Ted, not knowing how his best friend could still be dancing at a time like this! “Oh, no!” Bill moaned as he sank to his knees, shaking his head. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!” The dark-haired teen now had his legs bent, taking the 10 steps the music video demonstrated before turning his body around as fast as lightning.

“Cause this is Thriller!” Ted belted out, catching a quick glance at the floor. “Thriller ni-“It was in that moment he stopped short, seeing that Bill was no longer dancing but instead was on his knees in front of him, picking up and staring at the tiny pieces of something that had fallen to the floor and broke.

“Dude!” Ted gasped. “What happened?” Bill looked up at Ted before slowly making his way back to his feet, still in a slight panic. The blonde teen ran a hand through his hair before explaining the situation. “You accidently broke Missy’s favorite necklace”, Bill explained. Ted smiled his famous lovable grin and gave a slight shrug. He didn’t understand why Bill looked so upset over something so simple. “That’s ok, dude”, he replied. “I still have some birthday money saved up! We can just go to the jewelry store and buy her a new one before she comes home! No one will ever know!”

Bill shook his head as he began pacing around the living room, the whole house having gone silent by now. “You don’t understand, Ted”, Bill told his friend seriously, panic coming over him in little waves more and more with each passing moment. “Missy told me that that necklace goes all the way back to the 1800’s. There’s no way we can get a new one!” With that, Bill slumped down on the couch, putting his head in his hands.

“Bogus!” Ted cried, still taking in the information as he looked down at the shattered pieces of the necklace. Suddenly, Ted spotted something that triggered something in him. Bending down on one knee, Ted slowly and carefully picked up the purple jewel, trying to remember where he had seen it before as he held it in the very fingertips of his thumb and pointer finger. After staring at it for almost a full five minutes, Ted’s eyes grew wide with an idea, a large smile crossing his face as he stood up straight with the stone still clutched in his palm.

“Bill!” Ted exclaimed excitedly. “Why don’t we just go back to the 1800s and find this necklace and bring it back here?” Bill quickly jumped to his feet, now just as excited as his best friend was. “Excellent idea, Ted my friend!” Bill replied, but his smile slightly disappeared until he was frowning again. “But we don’t know which year it comes from”, he added, a touch of disappointment in his voice and with a glance at the old grandfather clock, his feeling of hopelessness only grew. “Besides, there’s no way we can make it back before my dad and Missy get home.”

Ted furrowed his brow, rubbing his free hand along his chin, deep in thought as he paced his best friend’s living room floor, coming to a sudden halt several minutes later with a snap of his fingers. His eyes wide, Ted turned back to Bill again with a happy and yet confused look on his face. “What was that thing that Mr. Ryan was talking about the other day?” Ted asked as he practically bounced on the soles of his shoes as he racked his brain trying to remember it. He started snapping his fingers again in the hope that it would help. “Uhhh….uhhhhh….”

Bill’s eyes grew wide as well. “The British Raj!” he shouted out causing Ted to stop bouncing around. “Yeah!” the brunette exclaimed.

“Excellent! The teens yelled in unison before playing air guitar. “C’mon!” Bill practically grabbed Ted by the arm and started dragging him. “We’ve got no time to lose!”

Taglist:

@shhh-no-ones-home @celestiaelisia @derangedcupcake @lindszeppelin @ohportgas @brookemccarter

#bill and ted's excellent adventure #my writing #ted x oc #bill and ted

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catxtopia · 4 years

Text

Lips Of a Stranger} Chp. 10

Author: catxtopia

Ship: Billdip ((fluffy))

Characters: Dipper Pines, Mabel Pines, Bill Cipher, Gideon Gleeful

Summary: The Night Vale AU no one asked for.

Author notes: I am back on my bullshit, lets finish this.

Read: ao3

((HOHO Betcha thought you saw the last of me.

Four years late but hey I fricken finished this shit! I sat down literally yesterday after a kind person commented that they still wait for updates on this story (srsly so sorry and you're so sweet holly heck, never say comments don't totally motivate a writer) and finished this. I already had this chapter written many years ago but I didn't wanna post it until I finished the rest (so sorry for my dumb past self). So this one sounds pretty much the same as the rest of the story, however cannot confirm for the rest of the work.

I haven't written in ages, I don't particularly like writing anymore if I am being honest. I am not great at it but I have a lot of ideas lmao. So I just wanna preface that the ending... probably not great lol. I will have a full report on the last chapter, however, on my old ideas for this story and what I thought it could be. There is probably a lot of plot holes and unanswered things but I tried^^;;;

Anyways, I'll upload either every day or every other day depending. But this shall finally be finished lads! (also no beta, we're animals here)))

“You found it!?”

Lying still, yet menacingly, on the kitchen table was a maroon journal with a black number 1 inked firmly in the center. It was larger than an average book and much worse for wear, the red leather was ripped and mystery blotches were smudged in several different locations on the cover. Mabel and Dipper stood around the object that had been of desire for so long. Neither made a move to touch it, treating it like an old relic—which it very well could have been as far as Dipper knew.

“Yeah, it was in this wired compartment in a tree outside.” Dipper scratched lightly at his chin, eyes roaming over the book. His fingers itched with curiosity for he had yet to open and examine the contents inside. He wasn’t sure if he should, waiting for Cipher seemed like the logical option but that required calling the man, followed by seeing him again, and the thought of meeting gold eyes sent his stomach through all kinds of loops. Thus, his phone stayed promptly in his pocket where it felt like it weighed a thousand pounds.

“Compartment in a tree, huh?” Mabel repeated, a confused look crossing her face. She, too, moved her hand to rub lightly at her chin in thought. “How’d you come across that?”

Dipper stiffened ever so slightly, and then casted a glance at his intrigued sister. He cleared his throat and shifted to stuff his hands in his pockets roughly. “I just, ya know, fell against it.” He shrugged, trying his best to remain cool—which was, to say, impossible when it came to Dipper Pines.

“Fell against it, hm?” Mabel’s eyebrow slowly started rising.

“Yes, I fell against it!” Dipper sputtered, looking away towards the book again. “The details of how I found the book aren’t important. What is important is that I found it !”

Mabel stifled her giggles as much as her lips would allow. “Whatever you say, Bro bro.” She mused and leaned over the dusty object, intentionally ignoring the tomato that was now her brother beside her. He’d been through enough teasing this morning, she’d let him off the hook this once. “What do you thinks inside?”

Dipper leaned back against the kitchen counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “No idea.” He quietly thought back to the times he and Cipher were looking for said book. A distant memory of going to the junkyard and the words black magic and demons , danced in the back of his mind but he elected to ignore those warnings. If the book really was dangerous, there was no way Cipher would be looking for it. At least that’s what Dipper told himself.

“Are you going to open it?” Mabel quirked a brow, eyes not leaving the book.

Dipper shifted against the counter. “I don’t know, Mabes. Maybe we should wait for Cipher to open it first.”

Mabel pursed her lips and squinted at the book.

There was a long pause, the only sound being whispers from the TV playing in the other room. Then Mabel, with a big intake of breath, announced loudly: “I am gonna open it.” And quickly flipped the front cover open.

“Mabel!” Dipper yelped, but his words fell on deaf ears as the young girl turned another page, and then another. “Mabes, seriously, be careful with it! We don’t know what it is, it could be super old and crumble at human touch! Who knows what—”

As Dipper rambled on and on, Mabel’s quick movements tentatively began to slow. She flipped only one more page before stopping and taking in a soft gasp, voice riddled with distraught. “Oh my gosh.” She whispered breathlessly. Dipper paused in his ranting, staring at the back of his sister's head since he couldn’t see the book around her. “I can’t believe this.”

“What?” He inquired, a drop of unease plopping into the pits of his stomach. Mabel’s shoulders were tense; body rigged with what Dipper could only assume was fear. She looked as though she was witnessing a demon rise out from the pits of hell, or at the very least like her sweaters were being set aflame. And throughout it all, all Dipper could hear were McGucket’s warnings ringing loud and clear inside his jumbled head. “That books bad news I tell ya! Black magic, raising devils, kinda bad news! Nothin good ever came out of that thing.” Dipper cringed at the voice. “What is it?”

“It’s terrible…” Mabel whispered, leaning further over the book. Her hair draped over the yellowing pages, eyes hidden behind thick bangs. “Cipher, he’s…”

“What? What about Cipher?” Dipper stepped closer. He could feel his heart thump a little faster with each step he took towards his sister.

“He’s a…” The girl moved back, turning swiftly to face her brother. Her face was red and cheeks puffed out, eyes leaking frustrated tears and— “ He’s a giant nerd just like you!” She exclaimed dramatically, throwing one hand towards the opened journal and another over her stomach as she doubled over laughing.

Dipper stared, dumbfounded as his sister flopped onto the tabled to keep from falling onto the floor. She was wheezing and stomped a foot every so often, trying to regain her breathing. He couldn’t believe this. “Mabel.” Dipper squinted hard at the girl. The only answer he got was more laughing and a few arm flails. “Mabel, you jerk.” Dipper sighed, but a small smile was tugging at his lips.

“Oh! Oh!” Mabel giggled, laughter beginning to die out into soft gasps. “Oh my gosh, yo- your face!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Dipper rolled his eyes. “You got me.” Behind his ribs, his heart was still pounding with adrenaline. He willed his limbs to stop their jittery shakes and calm the hell down. There was nothing to worry about, Mabel was just being her usual dork self. He looked towards the open book finally, now being able to get a good view of it. “So what’s in this thing, anyways?”

Having calmed down a bit, Mabel slipped across the kitchen in her fluffy pink socks, clamped onto the fridge handle and yanked it open to retrieve a can of Pit Cola. She juggled it in her hands, closing the door again with her hip. As she snapped the can open she explained lightly, “Looks like a dictionary for supernatural stuff to me. Really wired, it’s all hand written and stuff.” She paused and took a big gulp of her drink.

Dipper nodded and examined the scribbles and notes about different creatures. His eyes widened the further he flipped from page to page, completely entranced with the object sitting before him. It was no wonder Cipher wanted this thing, the stories he could produce with the book would be endless!

“This is amazing.” Dipper breathed. Gnomes, Zombies, Ghosts, this book was like a paranormal junkies Holy Grail.

Mabel hummed and jumped up onto the counter. “It makes sense why Cipher would want this. I am sure he will be happy you found it.” She mused, swinging her legs back and forth to the rhythm of a song stuck in her head. “Now you guys don’t have to go searching anymore! That’ll probably be a big nuisance off his shoulders.”

Dipper hummed absentmindedly as he drew his finger along the edge of the book, a thin layer of dust bunched up and latched onto his finger. He pulled his hand back, pinching the ball of dirt between his thumb and index finger till the grains rolled off his skin. He wondered briefly how long the book had been in that tree for, and for what reason.

“No more long hours trekking through stores and the occasional dumpster. I wonder if this old thing will help him with his work, or if that’s even what he wanted it for.” Mabel muttered against the rim of her soda can.

Dipper’s fingers instantly stilled, entire body freezing like someone had pushed a pause button on the boy’s life. No more long hours trekking through stores and the occasional dumpster . The words bounced around in his head several times and every repeat left a horrible taste in his mouth. He gulped and dropped his hand, brushing it harshly against his faded jeans. “Yeah, don’t know.” He bit out.

A minute ago he’d been excited to see Cipher’s reaction to his discovery, because damn it he was proud! And maybe boasting a little in the ego department. Now dread was filling up his core. No more time with Cipher…

Mabel slurped at her drink loudly, oblivious to the way her brother scooped up the book with a hesitant hand. “So, when are you gonna tell him?” She looked up past her wavy bangs, confused to find Dipper retreating towards the stairs at a quick pace. “Dipper?”

.:.:.

Dipper paced along the length of his bedroom, feet scuffing against the hardwood floor. He could practically feel the wood splintering away with each step he took. It was only a matter of time before he’d run a rut in the floor. He could hardly bring himself to care; however, as he gnawed at his thumbnail in a simple attempt to help distract his brain.

This was stupid, Dipper was stupid. He could hardly believe he was even thinking about the train of thought that he was. Not telling Cipher about the book? What kind of nonsense was that? He had to; it was his moral duty to give up the journal to the radio host. Otherwise, everything they’d done together thus far would be for nothing. The whole reason Dipper was being kept around was for the sole purpose of finding the book.

And once you give the book up, you won’t have a reason to be around Cipher anymore , Dipper thought sullenly. He turned once he paced as far as he could towards the door, changing direction to continue shuffling back the route he came towards the triangle window above his bed. It was a vicious cycle, this back and forth, back and forth. All the while he kept his eyes glued on the ground. He paused when his irises caught sight of a neatly folded pile of clothes at the end of his bed. Black jacket, pants, yellow scarf… A flash of blonde hair and the feel of rough bark against his back blurred past his eyes.

There would probably be no more of that once he gave up the book. Dipper lightly drew a finger against his chapped lips. If he thought hard enough he could still feel the pressure Cipher’s smooth lips had left against his own.

“Oh man.” Dipper mumbled aloud. Here he was worrying over some scraps of paper sewn together, while he should be questioning the fluttering in his chest from earlier interactions.

Cipher had kissed him and he’d be lying if he didn’t say he thoroughly enjoyed it. Both Mabel and Pacifica will be delighted to rub it in his face once they find out.

Dipper dropped onto his bed with a frustrated groan. Everything was happening all so suddenly, so fast he couldn’t make left or right of the images flashing before his eyes. And it was all because of that darn radio host with his perfect golden hair and otherworldly eyes. Not to mention his lean body that fit so right against Dipper’s the night before, warm like a blanket and oh so comfortable… Dipper shook his head quickly, expelling any further thoughts of Cipher’s body.

Really, Cipher was too handsome for his own good. It was practically supernatural.

Dipper snorted at the thought and fell back against the bed. He stared up at the ceiling, a soft sigh fluttering past his lips. What to do, what to do. He slid his hands up to rest on his chest and began tapping his fingers against his worn shirt.

“So you tell him.” Dipper muttered to himself. “You tell him about the book. It’ll make him happy, probably further his show somehow and bring in more listeners, which will make his work life better.” His fingers paused in their tapping, then slowly started picking up a rhythm again as he let another thought enter his mind. “Or you don’t tell him, you continue looking for the book as if you haven’t already found it and grow closer. Eventually he’ll forget about the book and move on, which will make his personal life better.”

“You don’t tell him and possibly ruin his career .” A voice that sounded eerily similar to Mabel’s rumbled in the back on his head. Ah, the voice of reason. It was bound to come poking its ugly face in here eventually.

“I don’t necessarily know if it’s for his show.” Dipper grumbled, sinking a little further against his bed. Great now he was talking to himself.

“What else would he need it so badly for?”

“I don’t know, curiosity? For a collection, maybe? His life revolves around the supernatural; it’s not that farfetched to want a journal filled on the subject.”

“So you’d rather keep the object of his desire away from him, in the hopes you become that object for him instead. That’s quite selfish.”

“Well no one asked you.” Dipper huffed and rolled onto his side. He stared aimlessly out the triangular window nearby. The sun had already begun to drip close to the tree line, casting an array of colors throughout his room. It was beautiful, really, all oranges and reds, and the occasional pink glow scattering across the shack's rustic interior. His eyes followed the colorful trail of light right back to the pile of clothes at the end of his bed. He stared at the yellow scarf for a long while before he worked up the strength to reach for it.

The fabric was so soft, softer than anything he’d felt before. It was probably really expensive. Dipper tugged the material fully into his palms and laid back down. He held onto the scarf like a blanket, running the pads of his fingers over the kind stitching. “Maybe he won’t leave once he has the book.” Dipper thought aloud once again. He was starting to make a habit out of talking to himself apparently.

It wasn’t like he wanted to keep information from Cipher, especially news that’d make him happy. The paranoia engraved deep in his soul that the man would eventually forget about him if they had no reason to be around each other was just too overpowering. Even though there was a good chance Cipher liked hanging around Dipper for Dipper and not just for his searching skills. It was a big chance, honestly. You don’t just kiss someone you plan on ditching. Cipher seemed like a better person than that, anyways.

But doubt was always louder than hope.

With a quick glance at the clock—which already read 5:10PM—Dipper decided he’d allow himself to sleep on it. It was already late so there was no use calling up Cipher now; he wouldn’t be able to come by until tomorrow anyways.

Settling on that, Dipper rolled over and closed his eyes. Super wouldn’t be ready for another hour or so and a nap sounded like a pleasant idea in the meantime.

.:.:.

Three days.

It’d been three days since Dipper found the old journal hidden in a tree. The journal, which a certain radio host had yet to know, was within Dipper’s possession. It had been shamefully tucked away in the brunet’s desk under a pile of scrap papers. It wasn’t the greatest hiding spot by any means, but Dipper didn’t feel comfortable leaving the relic under his bed or somewhere in his closet. At least in his desk, the book didn’t face any chances of getting ruined.

He stuck the poor book in the bottom drawer with the intention of returning to it in a week – because a night to sleep on deciding to give the book to Cipher just wasn’t enough. He simply wanted a little more time with the radio host to assure he wouldn’t ditch him. That was reason enough, right? In one week time, the book would be given to the blonde man. Until then, Dipper proclaimed he’d live with the guilt and enjoy some downtime with the host.

And what a glorious three days it had been so far. Cipher had been spending a large majority of the days hanging around Dipper’s work again. They’d continued their little routine, but the silence was filled with a lot more bashful glances and sly smiles. The kiss hadn’t been officially mentioned, but the implication that both of them equally enjoyed it and wouldn’t mind doing it again was pretty clearly expressed.

When Dipper wasn’t shackled to his job at the bookstore – and Cipher by extension – they usually ended up spending time around town or the radio station. Very rarely were they away from each other’s side. Not that either was complaining. However, every so often when Dipper would glance Cipher’s way, he’d feel a ball of guilt nibbling away at the core of his stomach. He couldn’t help thinking about the things he was hiding from the man. It didn’t feel right, but at the same time he couldn’t bring himself to do anything about it.

“Do you like your job?”

Cipher blinked open his eyes and tilted his head a little towards the brunet lying somberly beside him. They’d been lying outside on a patch of drying grass a short ways from the radio station, simply enjoying the last few drops of autumn. The sun was high above them, basking them in a nice enough warmth that they only needed light jackets. Cipher was currently wearing the sweatshirt he had borrowed from Dipper a few days prior, having yet to give it up. Not that Dipper really cared, he felt slightly prideful seeing the radio host wearing something of his.

Cipher shifted his arms, which lay beneath his head. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.” He looked back towards the calm blue sky. “It’s fun, I like being able to talk about whatever the hell I want for a living. I am not the biggest fan of having to hide behind a curtain all the time, but it comes with the job.”

Dipper hummed, mulling over that information. He flicked his fingers against the zipper on his jacket. “Why do you have to be so secretive? I doubt anyone would like… attack you or something if they knew who you were.”

Cipher chuckled and turned on his side, arm bent and hand holding up his head. Dipper moved in a similar fashion so that they both faced each other. “There are a few reasons. Gideon thinks having me be unnamed makes me more mysterious, that not only the show holds secrets but even the host does.” He shrugged. “Plus, I like being able to live my life without interruptions. I would get annoyed pretty quickly if people were stopping me on the streets or spewing nonsense about me in teen magazines.”

Dipper twirled his fingers around a few blades of grass, tugging them lazily as he listened. “And here I thought you liked attention.”

“Oh don’t get me wrong, I do! I would love people bending at my every need, but I have standards. I wouldn’t be able to sit here with you like this if I was open about my identity, and that’s not something I am quite willing to give up.”

“I guess that… makes sense.” Dipper pondered. “So you’re a man full of secrets then?”

“I am a man with many angles and lots of knowledge of various topics, who happens to also like having a private life, so if that makes me secretive then I guess I am. However, since I like you I’ll tell you my secrets,” Cipher leaned forward, lips curving into a seductive smirk. “for a price~”

Dipper’s cheeks flushed a soft pink, “Oh really? And what’s your price, Cipher?” He mused, putting up his best confident front.

“Hmmm,” Cipher’s eyes flickered from Dipper’s eyes to his lips then quickly back again. “I don’t know, it’d probably have to be something really pricey since I’ve got a lot of secrets.”

Dipper snorted and rolled his eyes, “What like my soul?” He joked and playfully wiggled his eyebrows.

If one were to have blinked in that moment they probably would have missed the way Cipher’s eyes widened and sparked with wonder for a fraction of a second. He continued to smirk at his companion before rolling onto his back to stare up at the sky once again. “Something like that.” He hummed pleasantly. “I am sure your soul would be a beauty.”

Dipper scoffed and flopped over onto his stomach, arms crossing beneath his chin. He closed his eyes and snuggled a little deeper in his jacket. “Don’t all souls look the same? Like a smoking white ball.”

“I think you’ve been playing too many video games.” Cipher flicked at the edge of Dipper’s ear, earning a small yelp and glare from the boy. “Souls come in all colors and shapes, kid. The more corrupted the soul, the worse it looks. What the world considers ‘sinners’ usually look black, less smoky, more goopy. Like a ball of hot, bubbling tar. While good people are bright, wispy, and usually emit a color.”

“You seem to know a lot about this.” Dipper mumbled into the curve of his arm.

Cipher chuckled under his breath. “Call it a passion of mine.”

The two fell into a comfortable silence after that, lying happily beside each other with only the whispers of wind and occasional tweet of a bird filling the silence. They lay close enough that their arms brushed and with a little maneuvering their hands slipped into each other without question.

It was nice, being able to be together like this without any distractions. To simply enjoy each other’s company. Dipper really didn’t want to let this go, and yet as he peeked past his bangs at the still figure beside him, he knew that he would.

“Hey, Cipher.” Dipper said just barely above a whisper. He watched the blonde’s eyebrow twitch but his eyes remained closed.

“Hm?”

“I gotta tell you something, it’s kind of important, it’s about the b—”

Just as the words were about to flutter out of his mouth, a shrill ring of a phone smacked Dipper’s train of thought straight from his head. His lips latched shut and eyes looked down at Cipher’s glowing pocket, which the man was quickly moving to reach.

He flicked the device on and squinted at the screen as if it had personally offended him. Whether that was because it had interrupted Dipper or not, the boy wasn’t sure.

“Sorry, just an email.” Cipher’s expression lightened considerably as he turned the screen to face Dipper. “Look at this cat jumping in and out of boxes! Giffy sent it. Cats are so silly!”

True to his word, there was a cat hopping into different sized boxes with a small message from Giffany at the bottom of the screen. Dipper smiled softly at the ridiculous video. Of course Cipher would find cat videos funny, what doesn’t he find funny? Dipper thought for a moment and came to the conclusion that, nope, Cipher could get a kick out of anything.

As he watched the video play through, Dipper couldn’t help his eyes wandering to the corner of the screen where a list of information sat. At the top of the list was a name, one that had Dipper’s heart stalling. “Uh.” The boy muttered very intelligently.

Cipher tilted his head to the side and furrowed his brows at Dipper’s odd expression. “What? Don’t tell me you don’t find cat videos funny. Cause I don’t think this relationship can work if—”

“Bill?”

#it's done bby #two more chaps #shall update tomorrow #billdip #my writing #lips of a stranger #billdip fic #fanfiction #fic

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fandomsumthing · 5 years

Text

Halloween Fright

Trigger warning: fake gore, could get kinda creepy (not really), slight Parksborn.

Enjoy!

~<🎃>~<👻>~

October 31st, Halloween. Kids out going door to door collecting candy or egging houses. Teens watching horror movies or going to parties because they think their too old to be out and getting that sweet treat. Well, some teens.

Adults either watching over their children or at that more adult parties or asleep. No need to celebrate it other than just to have fun. Especially for those secret heroes.

Speaking of which, a certain secret spider was sitting in his room, staring in the mirror, doing horror make up with music playing in the background. Peter had plans to met up with Harry that night for one of those Halloween parties. It was at this little area of woods that was usually rented out for these types of parties. Of course he knew that Gwen, Anya, and Miles would be there so he wouldn't have to follow Harry around like a lost puppy.

He was also told to dress scary. Apparently this party had a contest and you'd win by scaring the most people. If you get scared you're out.

"I'm not striding to win, but I am going to scare some people." Harry had told him over the phone. By people, Peter knew he meant the him. He used to jump out at him at random when they were kids. Peter would act like he wasn't scared even after screaming.

It had been like that for years, but now Peter had an upper hand with his spider-senses. And some other qualities as well. A few months back, his late night scrolling had him watching some special effects videos and that made him want to try it. So he did, and he had practice for quite some time now. If he wasn't ashamed to admit that he was good at it. But no one knew that except for May, who had walked in on him when he was trying out a zipper face.

If he didn't know that he's reflection was his, he'd probably scream. He was aiming for a zombie look and he succeeded. His had fake blood focused in one area to mimic being bashed in. His face look normal, beside the blood the flowed down from the fake bash, until it got down to his nose and under. It looked like the flesh was skinned off of his face, leaving a bloody mess. He was so glad that he was wearing an old shirt because the fake blood had dropped down his neck and trickled down the front of his shirt.

There was a fake bite mark on his arm that could be seen through one of the rips in his hoodie.It was going to be thrown away so might as well use it for something, right?

It looked mostly complete except for one thing, his eyes. He had been avoiding this part, but he knew that it wouldn't look quite right without them. He had gotten foggy contacts for his eyes to complete the dead look. He bought them with his own money as soon as he was told about the party at the beginning of the month. He had gotten them to fit the circumference of his eyes so he could wear them the whole night without any problems. (Looking at you cosplayers, make sure you know to get your eye sized by a doctor.)

Taking a deep breathe, Peter held his eye open and placed the contact in. He moved it around and then looked in the mirror. Yup, starting to look complete. His normally green eye was now heavily shaded with a grey color, but the green coil still be seen slightly. He then repeat this with the other.

Finally done Peter got up, turning off his radio and taking his phone off the charger. He was ready to scare the absolute shit out of some people.

"I'm leaving now, May!" Peter called as he walked down stairs.

"Okay! Have fun! And stay away from drunks! They could mistake you for an actual zombie!" May called back from the kitchen, catching a glimpse of her nephew. "Maybe put your hood up for the way there? Not that I don't like it, just so if any of your friends see you they don't ruin the surprise for everyone there." She added.

Peter stopped before leaving. "Genius as always." Peter smiled and pulled his hood over his head then leaving.

~<🎃>~<👻>~

The way there was full of stares, compliments, and scares for some. He had actually gotten stopped by a mother who had tried to make him feel bad for scaring her son, which was not the chase. The kid was actually really intrigued with his make up. Other than that interaction, his way there was all around great.

Getting there was exciting but also worry some because there was only one person standing in front of the forest. Peter recognized her as the host, Maggie. She was wearing devil horns and a tail. She was wealthy to a point and always threw holiday parties, but this was the first Halloween one. She had made it clear that she was participating because she was the one giving out the prize and handing out the refreshments.

"Hey Maggie, where's everyone else?" Peter asked, getting her to look up. She jumped back with wide eyes.

"Jeez! Wow! That's so cool, Peter! Everyone is scattered throughout the trees, the scaring part hasn't started yet. It'll be starting soon, though, so you best get in there!" Maggie said and motioned to the forest. Peter nodded and headed in.

He kept his hood up and just continued to walked with his head down until he knew he was totally alone. Once he was, he took off the hood and unzipped his hoodie, letting it slide down one arm. He knew that it would slide down farther during the night, but zombies don't really care if their jackets are falling off. He then messed up his hair some more so that his face could be seen, but his eyes were slightly hidden through the mess. He also made sure his shoes were tied, he didn't want to trip.

As one could tell, Peter was in it to win it. He was quite sure why himself why we wanted to win so badly, but now knew he just wanted to. Though, he wouldn't be mad if he lost either. But it would make his night great if he did.

"Hello lovely people!" Maggie's voice boomed from the hidden speakers. "Welcome to the first ever scare contest! We have a few simple rules! Touching is allowed, but no touching those special parts because of you do you're creep and definitely won't win with that type of creepy! Try sticking to the arms and calf of the legs for those on the ground! You can climb trees, but be careful! And try not to drop directly on someone! Oh! And no hitting or fighting. If you are scared by a tree or a squirrel and not by an actual person, you are still in. If you get scared, please go to the far back to the actual party area with your hands up in order not to be scared by other people, though they might still scare you because why not! And I know that some of you will try lying and saying you didn't, so your scream or you're fearful cussing will be podcasted through this very PA system! Before I let this begin, the safe word is Ghost! If heard, people around them please help them to the back to be assisted by medical students or to get them water. Last one standing wins the big prize! You all must be asking yourselves, 'what is it?' Well, a part of it is money! Now that is all said and understood, let the scaring begin in 3... 2...1!" Maggie ended it with an maniacal laugh.

With the game officially starting, everything became slightly tense but mostly exciting. He began walking slowly, taking in every thing around him. He knew Miles would be in the trees already so that he appeared taller. Harry was most likely looking for him. Gwen was probably charging at people.

But Anya, oh she was his rival in winning and he hated not knowing what she could be doing right now. They had made it clear to each other that they both wanted to win. They had even "trashed talked" each other. Well, not really trash talk, more like silly school yard insults. Anya did say, however, that Peter was the least threatening person, other than Miles, in the friend group. Everyone else agree, except for Miles who had seen Peter in full on rage before. But that little comment got Peter to actually do the bite mark on his arm.

Needless to say that he was mostly targeting her, but was willing to scare anyone in his way. He learned that it's better to make scary noises then actually scream so that he could keep his voice. And that walking slowly does set people on edge before running at them. The whole thing is to conserve energy to be able to keep scaring.

He kept walking for a few minutes before feeling his senses go off slightly, not for danger but as a warning of someone approaching. He stopped in his tracks and looked from side to side calmly, knowing that whoever it was they were approaching from behind him. He continued walking. Their foot prints came closer and Peter could hear their slight chuckle.

He could see the shadow of their hand rising in order to touch is shoulder. Now. Peter turned around fast, a smile spread across his face, now staring, his eyes wide to show of more of the white, at the guy with a werewolf mask and gloves. The guy had obviously not seen Peter's face and let out a shriek, and it was repeated on the loud speaker. "The first one to fall!" Maggie's voice came after it. The guy in the werewolf mask reached up to take his mask off, revealing Flash Thompson. His face still a little shaken.

"Good job on that." He said, putting his hands up in a surrendering fashion and giving Peter a slightly smile. Peter returned it with a proud one.

"Thank you, Thompson. I was planning on doing this for our study sessions." Flash's face instantly dropped which got Peter to laugh. "I'm just kidding!" Flash nodded and walked away with his hands up.

The game carried off like that for an hour. People's screams coming from the loud speakers, some being caused by Peter. He could see other with their hands up going to the back to the party. Their costumes were scary, but they mostly look like they were made on a eighth graders budget. Well, Peter's was sorta in that cost range too, but he had been doing this makeup for months before he even knew of the party. Practice makes better.

A few of them spotted Peter creeping from behind a tree and they cussed loudly or jumped or just speed up their pace. Pretty funny in Peter's opinion. He saw Gwen and Miles walking back with their hands up, and he decided against scaring them out right. Tying his jacket around his waist, he started approaching them from the back, putting his hands in his front jean pockets.

"Who got you guys?" Peter asked which got them to stop. They turned there heads, smiles on their faces. Gwen had scales on her cheeks and forehead with damp hair and Miles had fangs in and a half assed suit.

"Harry got me- HOLY SHIT!" Miles yelled , fully looking at Peter now. Gwen was too and gave a surprised gasp.

"Did you do that yourself?" Gwen asked, her impressed eyes scanning over Peter.

"Nah, got hit by a car on the way here." Peter quipped, crossing his arms with a smirk.

"At least you didn't fall out of a tree like Miles here." Gwen nudged Miles, Miles grimacing at the ground. Gwen just unknowingly gave him grip practice for a week.

"Of course you did. Didn't you say Harry got out?" Peter asked Miles, who nodded. "Can you point me in his direction?"

Miles pointed down one of the trails. "He was there when he got me, I'm sure if you keep walking you'll find him." Miles mumbled.

"Thank you kindly." Peter said, saluting his friends as he walked away. He then stopped, "Oh, and Miles. Monday." He could hear Miles groan as he continued on his way.

As he continued down the path, he heard a scream from farther down the path that was echoed on the loud speakers. He could see a figure walking at him with their hands up. It wasn't Harry, he was slightly taller. As he got closer, Peter could see his ripped clothes and drawn on stitches that lead up to Shammas.

He looked up and met Peter's gaze, and he was obviously about to scream or yell something until Peter covered his mouth and brought his other hand up, his index finger pressed against his lips.

"Sorry, just tell me, is Harry back there?" He asked and Shammas nodded, raising a question eyebrow. Peter smiled and lowered his hand from his mouth as he got an idea.

"My guess is that he scared you, you want to get him back?" Peter asked and Shammas thought about it.

"But I'm out." Shammas said, still questioning Peter. He'd met him before, but he wasn't like this. Like, here he presented himself with more confidence while in his bloody attire. It was almost frightening.

"I know, I just need you to get his attention and I'll scare him." Peter explained. Yup, definitely frightening.

"Alright." Shammas nodded.

~<🎃>~<👻>~

Harry walked in a circle. He had his area that he was comfortable in. Sure, moving around could get him a chance to scare Peter, but he also didn't want to.

Peter wasn't weak, but his costume of a drown victim was really convincing to some people. He didn't think Peter would be able to look at him like this. Plus, his sit and wait approached was working excellently. He got about ten people just laying in wait. At this point he could just sit back and-

"HARRY HELP!" He heard Shammas yell. It didn't sound like a fake cry for help. His voice sounded panicked. He also couldn't get him out if he was trying to scare him, so why would he even try?

"Shammas?" Harry yelled back. No answer. He called out again, this time moving towards where Shammas voice had came from.

As he approached, he could see a figure on the ground. As he got closer, he could see that the figure laying down on the ground was Shammas, who was laying with his eyes shut. He wasn't knocked out, just laying there.

"Shammas, what the hell are you-" Before he could finish, he was face to face with a bloody face. "Looking a little wet aren't we?" The voice was rough.

Harry fell back "HOLY FUCKING SHIT!" Harry screamed. It was then replayed and that's when he realized he was out. He looked at Shammas who was laughing on the ground. He caught a look at Harry's red face and got up and ran still laughing, knowing that as soon as Harry got to the party, he'd chase him down.

Harry then looked at his scarer, about to chew his ear off when he was met with Peter's smiling and giggling face dangling upside down, his arms hanging down by his head. Harry looked up and saw that his legs were wrapped around the a branch.

"Peter?" He gasped and he got a nod with a giggle accompanying it. Of course it was bloody and unsettling for Harry, and a bit too real looking, but if anyone could make a zombie look cute it was Peter.

"How'd you? When did you? What?" Peter began laughing harder at Harry's confusion.

"I'm a man of many talents, Harold." He said smiling. Harry laughed and put his hands on Peter's checks, catching Peter off guard and getting him to stop laughing.

"That you are Parker." Harry leaned in and Peter closed his foggy green eyes. Peter felt at bliss just like that, but he didn't get the kiss he was now longing for. He lost the warmth of Harry's hands, which caused Peter to open his eyes. He saw Harry holding his hands up like he was surrendering.

"Sorry my undead love, but I have to get to the party, I am out after all." Harry said walking pass the upside down Peter. Peter jumped down.

"Harry, you can't leave me like that!" Peter whined, Harry smiled and was so glad that he wasn't facing Peter. If he was, he might of just ran up to him a wouldn't be able to control himself after that.

"I'll make you a deal, if you win, I'll give you way more than a kiss." Harry said, practically hearing Peter stiffen. "See ya later." Harry then walked off, hand in the air. Leaving Peter there with a new found reason to win.

~<🎃>~<👻>~

It was a few minutes until Maggie's voice came on the loud speaker once more. "Hello to the left standing! Yes you heard me correctly Peter Parker and Anya Corazon! How funny! The people who got the first two scares in the game are the last ones standing!" Peter smiled, thinking of the shock on Anya's face, "It'll probably take forever for you two to find each other so go towards the light! Is it a race, nope! But get to the light and we'll find out who's the winner through one simple challenge! Unless you find one another and scare them! But it's okay if you don't!"

Anya would take the hunting option. When Anya wants something, she'll do what it takes to get it. Which mean she could get Peter to say Ghost if it becomes too much.

Peter thought for a little then concluded that going by tree is safest. So he got up in the tree that he scared Harry in and began his trip. While in them, he could see figures under him and his spider sense was going nuts. What the hell? He didn't stop though. They could just be strangers that Maggie hired to scare him and Anya.

He got to the light, it was like a lamp post but the lights are attached to the tree. Peter stayed in the trees and circled around to find Anya. He found her approaching. She looked like a broken clown doll. Great. Clown doll. Peter didn't like either of them that much. He knew he'd definitely say Ghost if he got stuck on the ground with her.

Her's was way better than his anyways. She'd think Peter's costume is child's play. And that's when an idea came into mind. He didn't need to get her to scream, just surprise her or make her cuss.

She was approaching pretty fast so Peter put his plan into action. He got in front of her, took a deep breathe, and fell backwards, landing right in front of her. That caught he off guard.

"You fucker!" She yelled. It was repeated over the loud speaker. It was repeated over the loud speaker! Anya looked down at Peter, a slightly amused look on her face.

"You proud of yourself Parker?" She asked jokingly.

"Totally." Peter's voice was laced with slight pain as he did finger guns at Anya. The light then shut off and Anya put her arms up. Peter on the other hand stood up and brushed himself off.

"Good job on the make up by the way." Anaya commented, getting a smile from Peter.

"Shall we?" Peter asked and Anya returned it with a sigh and a nod. They walked, well Peter slightly limped, back to where the party was and were greeted with cheers and clapping.

The party was illuminated with purple lights. There's was a cleared space that most people were in so Peter guesses it was the dance floor. A snack bar that was being refilled, and some cheap decorations.

"Hello!" Maggie said, getting Anya's and Peter's attention from the crowd. "It appears that Peter has won! Fantastic! There is a second place prize of $50, so here you go Anya." Maggie then handed over two $20 and one $10.

"As for you Peter, come with me." Maggie motioned and Peter followed. They had to go through the dance floor and Peter could hear a few people talking about him.

"No wonder he won." A guys voice whispered to his friend as Peter passed. Major confidence boost coming one after another. Not enough to give him a big head, but enough to make him proud of his makeup ability.

Maggie lead him to a curtain be hind the snack bar. After getting behind it, Peter found a gift basket with candy, a bat and spider (how ironic) stuff animal, some gift cards to local restaurants, and an envelope with a drawing of witch on it.

"The envelope contains $150. Don't try and give it back to me because I know how you get when people give you money." Maggie said seriously. "You won it fair and square. Also, you should leave it here until you're ready to leave, don't want these gremlins to take your prizes."

Peter gave her a smile and Maggie gave an awkward one back. Peter then remember that he did look like he lost most of his face. "Oh, sorry, forgot." Peter said, rubbing the back of his head.

"Don't be! That whole thing got you this prize." Maggie said, "now go enjoy the party, Pete! I'm sure you're friends want to talk to you!" Maggie then ushered him out from behind the curtain.

Peter stood around awkwardly, trying to spot out his friends. He spotted the Harry's face in the crowd laughing at a joke that someone had made, and he started towards him.

Being the victor did cause him to be stoped a few times to congratulated or asked how to do what he did. He answered them with "I watch too much tutorials." Or something along those lines.

"Hey Peter!" Harry called as he walk towards him.

"Hey scaredy-cat." Peter said getting Harry to let out a laugh.

"You didn't really scare me, just surprised." Harry retorted.

"But you still got out, didn't you?" Peter smiled as Harry sighed but nodded.

"Yeah, you did. And you won." Harry took a step closer to Peter.

"Do you really want to kiss me here?" Peter asked, remembering that someone could snitch to Norman.

"We could go be hind a tree." Harry said, gently grabbing Peter wrist.

"You seem really excited to make out with a person who looks dead. Is there something you're not telling me?" Peter joked as he followed Harry to a far away tree. Harry laughed.

"Well, you're definitely the cutest zombie I've ever seen." Harry replied as they stepped behind the tree, out of sight from the party. He moved the hair out of Peter's eyes. Even fogged up, they looked magnificent. He leaned in and finally kissed Peter.

They've done this some many times that Peter's arms instantly wrapped around Harry's neck and Harry's around his waist. But still, the kiss still gave different effects every time. It always felt new. This kiss was becoming heated pretty quickly however.

They weren't going to go that far, they both knew that. Making out in public was already dangerous enough for them, they didn't need to get caught doing something that should be done in private.

After the session had came to an end, they bath returned back to the party, meeting up with their friends. The rest of the night was spent laughing and just having all around fun. At the end of the night, Peter found himself walking home with Harry. The basket felt weird to carry alone and he really did want to hang out with Harry.

"Maggie's talking about doing this next year, except hiring scare actors along with us." Harry said as they got back to Peter's neighborhood. "Are you going to do this again?" He asked, looking Peter up and down.

Peter smiled. "Yeah, except I won't go as a zombie and I'll be scaring the scare actors."

#msm 2017 #marvel spiderman 2017 #marvel’s spiderman 2017 #parksborn #peter parker #harry osborn #anya corazon #gwen stacy #miles molares #flash thompson #halloween

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creativity-is-rebellion · 4 years

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More Top 20 Must-See Horror Movies

Especially now we are in isolation, who doesn’t crave a good horror movie to watch? To that purpose, I have created yet another top 20 must-see horror movies, along with why you should be watching them. So get into your comfy clothes and blanket, grab some popcorn, and settle in to watch these horror gems (WARNING: May contain spoilers).

1) Ginger Snaps (2000)

I first saw this movie when I was fifteen years old, and, watching it recently, I was still impressed how it handles the perils of transitioning from teenhood to womanhood. Ginger Snaps follows the story of two outcast sisters, Ginger (Katharine Isabelle) and Brigitte (Emily Perkins), in the mindless suburban town of Bailey Downs. On the night of Ginger's first period, she is savagely attacked by a wild creature. Ginger Snaps is a terrifying movie with good character development, acting is convincing and it has a fast-paced story line. If you're into well-done horror movies Ginger Snaps is the movie for you. It is one of the best modern werewolf movies I have seen.

2) Annihilation (2018)

Drawing on mythology and body horror, Annihilation is an intelligent film that asks big questions and refuses to provide easy answers. It is Sci-fi horror at its best, boasting a very intriguing and unique idea whilst entertaining the viewer throughout the film. Definitely a must-watch.

3) Green Room (2015)

A punk rock band becomes trapped in a secluded venue after finding a scene of violence. For what they saw, the band themselves become targets of violence from a gang of white power skinheads who want to eliminate all evidence of the crime. Influenced by exploitation movies of the 1970s (and punk music of the 1980s), this horror-thriller is rooted in a gripping, grisly kind of realism without resorting to lazy coincidence or stupidity. This is again a fresh take on horror and worth a view.

4) 1922 (2017)

I learned from a great film critic many years back that your own best judgement of a movie is best discovered when you realise that you are still thinking of it many days later. This Stephen King film stays true to the iconic master with all the tell-tale signs of a Kings classic: A haunting grimness that lingers throughout the movie, a tragedy and of course, outstanding performances. The mother that returns from the dead leaves you in a crazy suspense of whether it is simply a dream, a man’s demented insanity, or an actual reality. Thomas Jane’s performance was stellar and totally believable as a farmer in rural America in 1922. He actually takes you through the movie as if you were part of him and what is going on. The message that Stephen King leaves you with is dreadfully powerful of how greed can destroy all. Definitely worth the watch, especially for Stephen King fans.

5) Evil Dead (1981; remake 2013)

Both versions of this movie are great, but I have a special fondness for the original, which was Sam Raimi’s directorial debut. The camerawork is amazing for a low-budget film, and the creepy atmosphere is eerily accurate. We feel Ash’s pain when his friend, sister and girlfriend are one-by-one changed into Deadites, and the ending keeps you guessing, and wanting, a sequel. I am quite a fan of the Evil Dead franchise actually, and have just finished watching the TV adaptation Ash vs. Evil Dead. I’m savouring the last episodes, and am sad that it got cancelled. I look forward to more from this franchise, hopefully in the not-to-distant future.

6) Get Out (2017)

This film is unique, telling the tale of young black man who meets his white girlfriend’s parents for the first time. Jordan Peele’s film delivers a chilling satire of liberal racism in the US. More than just a standard-issue thriller, this brutal, smart movie is impeccably made, as well as surprising, shocking, and funny, while also offering a compassionate, thoughtful look at race. Expect only the very best a film has to offer, with a nasty twist at the end that you won’t see coming.

7) Hell Night (1981)

One of the best things about this movie which follows fraternity and sorority pledges who spend the night in a mansion haunted by victims of a family massacre is that it stars legendary Scream Queen of The Exorcist fame, Linda Blair. Other than that, prepare for a fun, wild ride, the way every good slasher movie should be.

8) Insidious Part 2 (2013)

I actually enjoyed this sequel more than the first movie, as it was less plodding and more action-packed, with an intriguing antagonist in the form of the mysterious “Bride in Black,” who turns out to be the evil spirit of serial killer Parker Crane, who, as we know from the previous movie (SPOILER ALERT) has taken over the body of Josh Lambert, and is fighting for control of his soul. I enjoyed seeing the return of Elise Rainier, who was (SPOILER ALERT AGAIN) killed off in the previous movie. James Wan directed this second helping even more masterfully than the first. A must-watch.

9) Sleepaway Camp (1983)

This is a campy slasher gem, where they cast real teenagers, which elevated the drama of the plot somewhat. Sleepaway Camp tells the story of a young girl named Angela who goes to Camp Arawak with her cousin Ricky. Once the two arrive at camp, a series of events/killings leads the campers to discover that there is a killer on the loose. Sleepaway Camp is not in any way intense or fast paced. However, even though many initially might look at as a “rip off” slasher film, the movie does get creative when it comes to the brutal killings and certain aspects to the film that no one saw coming. Including the jaw-dropping twist at the end. I’m not giving it away. You just have to watch it.

10) Cold Prey (Fritt Vilt) (2006)

This movie takes full advantage of its snowy, secluded set-pieces, using Norway’s harsh winter landscape to masterfully build tension and heighten the sense of isolation. As horror movies go, Cold Prey is a slow-starter, committing the first third of its running time to investigating the signs of violence scattered throughout the hotel, allowing the characters to theorise about what pernicious acts may have taken place before the hotel’s abandonment. It begins at the intriguing yet deliberate pace of a psychological horror film as the sequestered friends, initially inebriated and giggly, explore the hotel and sharing secrets, but the movie’s party-hard atmosphere bursts open at the 40-minute mark to reveal a black horror centre. Slick and stylish, Cold Prey is a genuine pleasure to watch.

11) The Hills Have Eyes (1977; remake 2006)

Even if it echoes a better film (namely, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre), the original movie is still an important one to view for lovers of the horror genre. This is a sometimes ghastly - and occasionally absurd - shocker that really gets under one's skin. Though many critics initially despised the original outing, it has since been called one of the best horror movies of the 1970s. Scary-movie specialist Wes Craven made this viscerally-violent feature on a low budget, and some horror connoisseurs call it his best. Ultimately the "normal" people strike back with a ferocious blood-lust they didn't know they had, and the question is how much a "civilised" person can be pushed before one becomes a savage. Are the Carters really all that much "better" than Jupiter and his spawn? That is a question that you, as the audience member, are required to ponder.

12) The Dawn of the Dead (2004)

This remake of George A. Romero's 1978 sequel to Night of the Living Dead soups up the zombies, cranks up the gross factor to 11, and has a lot of cheeky in-jokes about its predecessor. In comparison with the original, out are the shrieking blondes and rampaging looters, in are smart, controlled Ana (Sarah Polley as a believable nurse not afraid to wield a fire poker) and Kenneth (Ving Rhames), who is exactly the kind of cop you want walking beside you if you are facing scores of the undead.

The zombies are a bit spryer in this film, and the pregnancy of one of the main characters is not the life-giving promise it was in the first movie. But the ending is what differs most from the original. If you're a fan of the horror genre, then this flick is a welcome, if derivative, fright-fest in the school of Romero's classics.

13) The Cabin in The Woods (2011)

What starts out as another five-band teen getaway to a cabin in the woods ends up becoming a fresh take on the trope, with puppeteers behind what is taking place, in a twisted game of Choose Your Adventure. The ending is fittingly grim, but you won’t be disappointed. Definitely worth one hour and thirty-five minutes of your time.

14) The Babadook (2014)

The feature debut of writer-director Jennifer Kent is not just genuinely, deeply scary, but also a beautifully told tale of a mother and son, enriched with layers of contradiction and ambiguity. It presents grief as a demon, questions reality, and creeps out the viewer by making psychopathology seem like something that could happen to anybody. The style of the film is not teasing exactly - it's too sad and lonely - but there is certainly a hair-pulling mixture of glum laughter and vast apprehension. Is the demon real? Does it matter? That’s for you to judge. Either way, if it’s in a word, or if it’s with a look, you can’t get rid of the Babadook.

15) Suspiria (Original and the Remake - 1977 and 2019 respectively)

Suspiria is a baroque piece of esoteric expressionism that you enter - and exit - without understanding so much as feeling. It's always fascinating to watch; the thrills and spills are so classy and fast that the movie becomes in effect what horror movies seemed like when you were too young to get in to see them. Director Dario Agento works so hard for his effects -- throwing around shock cuts, coloured lights, and peculiar camera angles -that it would be impolite not to be a little frightened. This entry stands out as it is a visually beautiful horror movie, a bright fantasy that lives off its aesthetic. If you are a horror fan and haven’t seen this movie yet, then you’re not living right. The remake is also worth a watch, something that is oftentimes unique in the horror genre.

16) A Quiet Place (2018)

This gripping, clever monster movie is one of those rare genre treats that seizes on a simple, unique idea and executes it so perfectly and concisely that it elicits satisfying squeals of delight. It's directed and co-written by Krasinski, who's best known for his work in comedy but translates his experience in that genre to the expert building and releasing of tension here. A Quiet Place is, in many ways, like an extended classic horror movie sequence, such as famous ones in The Birds or Aliens, wherein the heroes must try not to disturb packs of resting monsters.

At the same time, Krasinski uses his quiet moments like music, ranging from moments of restful beauty -- including a father-son trip to a waterfall, where it's noisy enough that they can talk and even shout -- to moments of pause. A loud noise can cause a jump, but it's immediately followed by tension and dread: Will the creatures come this time? The real beauty is the movie's primal quality, based on the most basic elements of life, such as survival and protection of the species. No explanation is given for the monsters' existence; they, like us, are just here. Images of water, sand, bare feet, crops, and plant life serve to underline the theme of life itself. A few overly familiar horror movie clichés keep it from being perfect, but otherwise A Quiet Place is so good that it will leave viewers speechless.

17) The Exorcist (1973)

Once famously dubbed ‘the most terrifying movie ever made,” this movie is steeped in urban legend, especially concerning the unfortunate happenings that occurred when it was being made.

If you think your teen is ready for this shocking film, keep in mind that some audience members in the '70s reportedly fainted after seeing Dick Smith's grisly makeup effects on Blair. In some extreme cases, viewers even required psychiatric care. Also, the moans, snarls, and profane utterances from Regan (most are actually the dubbed-in voice of a well-known older actress, Mercedes McCambridge) amount to some of the most chilling audio ever done for film.

Thanks in part to Linda Blair's wrenching, Oscar-nominated performance, The Exorcist was a huge hit, earning back 10 times its $10 million budget (a then-lavish sum, outrageous for a "mere" horror flick). Movie historians cite it (along with The Texas Chainsaw Massacre) as the conclusive end of old-school spook shows featuring Dracula and Frankenstein and bobbing rubber bats. If you haven’t watched it yet, you may have your horror movie fan card revoked.

18) The Final Destination Franchise (2000 - 2011)

If I had to list all of the movies in the Final Destination franchise in order of quality, I would say 5, 1, 2, 3, and 4. Fourth instalment withstanding, the series is a formidable addition to the horror genre, as the invisible killer, Death Itself, stalks its victims and kills them off in creatively gruesome ways after they initially cheat death. The fifth addition contains an awesome twist at the end which in hindsight you should have seen coming throughout the entire movie. Pay close attention. The only downside is (SPOILER ALERT) that none of the characters throughout the series really survive.

19) Let the Right One In (Lat den Ratte Komma In) (2008)

Please watch the Swedish version, and power through the subtitles. This is a horror movie that is tragic on multiple levels, as it deals with a lonely and bullied boy who so happens to live next door to a pubescent vampire. When her benefactor dies, we see how the main character’s life will also unfold, and what lies in his future. A must-see film that is more than just your average horror movie.

20) Terrifier (2017)

This movie definitely gets back to basics by paying homage to the original slasher classics. Art the Clown, who we are originally introduced to in the 2013 movie All Hallow’s Eve (also worth a watch), is a vicious horror movie villain who kills just for kicks. He also subverts the horror movie trope by using a weapon which was previously considered off-limits to horror movie villains, especially those with supernatural abilites (mostly, anyway). This movie also contains one of the bloodiest deaths in recent horror movie history. I like the use of practical effects over the often-overdone CGI. What is Art the Clown? Deranged killer? Demonic entity? Who cares? Its all good fun. Watch it now on Netflix.

I’ll probably be back again some time in the future with a further 20 horror movies that are worth a watch, because there are so many of them. To everyone, take care during these uncertain times.

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todaysbiggesthits · 4 years

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The Exam

Best Music Moment of 2019

BC: Three straight hours of this

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in my Chapman Ryder Cup match with Code -The Robert M. Chennault Playlist in my Ryder Cup match with Laser -Vampire Weekend's "M79" with Parks and Rec theme interlude in Pawnee Peytonville with my babe -Late night music game with JD and Chaps this Fall -My kids competing for best air guitar solo to Daft Punk's "Digital Love" -The Stones soundtracking Raceday morning with Counterfeit Kenny and the Kennel Boys

Codem: -Picking up the keys after closing on #our house and listening to Arden's dreams for the pad while listening to the songs that brought us together in the first place. -Perched in the balcony of Park West watching Chromatics live and in person. -The Chapman format playlist that Brendon and I put together. It was just one song on repeat. Xtal - Aphex Twin -Plugging in my klipsch's for the first time in the new house to listen to elliott smith on the day of his death. the sound of his discography wafting throughout the whole house was a true delight.

Bronco: My 6-year-old discovering Green Day. My 9-year-old discovering Metallica. Both discoveries have awakened something in them that is hilarious and awesome to behold. And seeing Tool was pretty flaming awesome.

JD: March: Realizing I’d never heard this Stones song, nodding along to the opening riff, and exploding into my biggest laugh of the year at the first line.

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June: The Joni Mitchell performance in the Rolling Thunder Review documentary on Netflix. June: Catching the Thom Yorke Anima short film at the IMAX theater on the Upper West Side. July: Code and I getting a perfect 99 score on the greatest rendition of “Emotional Rescue” karaoke you’ll ever see. October: Playing the music game WAY too deep into the night with BC and Chap (look for the next day’s hangover on my worst moments list).

Chap: Patrick Stickles singing "I'm sorry dad no I'm not making this up" to his dad in the audience.

Nasty: Listening to music at BOB. Nothing but jams that whole weekend. Driving in with Laser - GOOGLE MUSIC JAMS. Trip to the casino - JAMS. Hanging out on the deck - JAMS. Driving to the course with Blazer Black - Fuck Buttons - Sweet Love for Planet Earth aka JAMS. In the cart with Code - JAMS. Driving Chappy and Sfreddo to the rental car - JAMS (but quietly).

Larse: Greta Thunberg speech dubbed to metal

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Best Shows Seent in 2019

Nasty: The Killers @ Summerfest. Hot Fuss will always be an all-time favorite album and Mr. Brightside is the best pop song of our lifetime, IMO. Also, my wife loves them which is about the only band in middle of the venn diagram.

Larse: The Lonely Island at Summerfest

BC: Dead & Company

JD: 1. The Rapture at Music Hall of Williamsburg 2. Viagra Boys at Bowery Ballroom 3. The Strokes and Parkay Boys at the All Points East fest in London with drunk lads screaming along to the guitar parts 4. B Boys at Union Pool 5. Titus Andronicus at Bowery Ballroom 6. Avey Tare at Market Hotel 7. Tame Impala at MSG 8. Weeping Icon at Elsewhere 9. Priests at Elsewhere

Code: interpol - chicago theater illuminati hotties - hideout it looks sad - subT downstairs robyn - riviera steve malkmus - art institute eleventh dream day - hideout colleen green - sleeping village swearin' - lincoln hall surf curse - subT shura - the bottle

Chap: TA was the only show I saw. It was great!

Bronco: All of them. They were each great in their own way. Aside from Tool I was able to interact with the band members at each of the shows. One I didn't have a ticket for and scored one at the door. One was in the tiniest venue I've seen a show at. One had a surprisingly entertaining opening act. And Tool surprised me with how much I enjoyed an arena show despite being so far away I couldn't see the facial features of the band members. And there was SOOOOOOO much weed being smoked in the Garden that night. And I was with a few good buddies. And I was able to sell my fourth ticket for twice what I paid, simulatenously covering me and my fourth friend who had to bail because his life sucks because his wife sucks.

Confession of 2019

Nasty: I consume more music at my cushy, suburban OrangeTheory workout classes than in my own free time. S/O to Coach Vanessa for having some Girl Talk on her playlists.

Codem: i had more fun listening to stuff that i already knew about than stuff that was coming out.

BC: I saw a Yacht Rock cover band and didn't hate it -I succumbed to social pressure and saw DMB -I didn't realize until the last minute that my favorite album was released in 2018 (Wild Nothing). Removing it greatly reduced my loyalty to my list.

Bronco: I'm losing my edge. I enjoyed way more lady singer bands this year than in any other year.

Chap: Couldn't get my shit together on the tracks list so just posted a random playlist

Larse: Not really a confession but more of a TIL (today I learned), but Raphael Saadiq was an original member of Tony! Toni! Tone!

Biggest Disappointment of 2019

Bin: The National @ Summerfest. From the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel "the frontman was completely detached, even confessing at one point that he was excited to get back home to his family. The result was an incredibly depressing show — which, given the band's dour songs, is really saying something." ... Huge Bummer.

BC: Didn't see nearly enough shows with nearly enough of yous

Chap: Sturgill Simpson... unlistenable!

Bronco: Baroness.

Laser: Modest Mouse opening for The Black Keys

Code: i was really messed up by dave berman's passing. i had tickets to see him play at the end of august. it was going to be my first catching him live and in concert. i had waited for this moment since i picked up american water back in 2003. two weeks before he was supposed to come through town, he up and died. also, much less of a bummer, the chromatics show in miami that Arden and i were going to attend got canceled two days before the show.

Most Overrated of 2019

Nasty: Kanye's shoes

Chap: LEGACY! LEGACY! – Jamila Woods seems to have been highly regarded? Not my thing

BC: FKA Twigs

Bronco: Baroness.

JD: Big Thief

Code: cancel culture

Larse: Mayor Pete

Make it Stop 2019

Chap: In my house, the Nutcracker Suite. It's great, until the 300th time that day.

Nasty: Cage the Elephant (but children, instead of elephant, and in real life, not the band)

BC: Lizzo

Code: lizzo

JD: Memes

Larse: Trump

Bronco: News

Biggest TBH Regret of 2019

Chap: Can't seem to get to more than one show per year; Jessica Pratt in a church by my old place

JD: Missin’ dat Pratt yet Nick!

BC: Should've listened to the Kanye album. Should've spent more time with the Deerhunter record.

Rotty: Skipping CHVRCHES at Summerfest

Code: another year with no fog party

Nasty: Not going to Indy 500. lol jk.

Bronco: I didn't buy tickets to a few shows I would've liked to have seen. One of them I went to the venue and didn't get in. That bummed me out, but I crossed the street and had a few beers by myself for good measure, so it wasn't a total loss.

Detective Murtaugh of 2019

JD: Everything.

Bronco: Shows that don't start until 10pm. That Girl Band show nearly wrecked me.

Chap: How much I loved Bruce Springsteen's adult contemporary western-themed old-man album.

BC: The ten seconds I lasted with 1000 GECS

Nasty: For the life of me - I cannot figure out how to operate the "play next" queue on these apps.

Laser: Lizzo at Summerfest - lot of younglings running around; people were racist towards Lizzo's security guards, she vowed not to come back to MKE, one of the most segregated cities in America :(

Resolution for 2019 Status

Laser: — How It Went: Who can even remember this shit...I'm sure it was that I'd do better at keeping track or listen to more shit people suggest and I'm sure I failed.

BC: Listen to one new album a week; reboot the Classic Album Review Club How It Went: Noooot toooo gooooood

Code: catch ovlov, pictureplane, washer, chromatics, EMA and colleen green live this year. How It Went: i saw chromatics and colleen green. last i checked .400 gets you into cooperstown.

JD: Greater consciousness of how I’m using my attention - an ineffectual and meaningless protest of the ways the world is burning down in pursuit of it. How It Went: Not bad! I especially nailed the “ineffectual and meaningless” part.

Chap: Learn Piano; Guilt Joe Dons into finally inviting me to a concert. How It Went: Learned some piano but got to busy for it... Couldn't guilt JD to invite me anywhere but I DID invite him to a show! The same one I went to! With him!

Bronco: Read more 'classic’ books. I didn’t read many of them, even in school (especially in school? Never could read a book I was told to read). But I’m leaning in the sci-fi direction of 'classics’. I just read Dune this summer, and wrapped up Fahrenheit 451 the other day. I’m feeling an unexplained need to beef up my nerd credentials and this seems the way to accomplish it. How It Went: Nope. Fell back in to zombie-apocalypse genre series that I've been reading for a while. But I am currently reading arch-nerd Neal Stephenson's "Fall; or, Dodge in Hell". It's almost 900 pages, I feel like I've been reading for months now, and because I'm a stupidly slow reader, I read only before going to bed, and can only make it 10 minutes before falling asleep and hitting myself in the face with my phone, I'm only 25% of the way through. But man is it painting a creepy yet eerily plausible scene of the near future. Guy just knows how to write.

Nasty: Hope last year I was smart enough to leave this blank. (editor’s note: [removes shoes, pets cat, puts on slippers, retires to favorite easy chair, sips martini, slowly pulls reading glasses out of cardigan pocket, dusts them off, loads todaysbiggesthits.tumblr.com, scrolls to ‘Resolution for 2019’] “Nasty: I’m sticking with it - get to NY for a show with JD.”)

Resolution for 2020

BC: See Phish in 2020

Codem: i'm making it easier this year. catch ovlov, washer, EMA and colleen green live this year. bonus points: see dom's much anticipated return to the stage.

Bronco: Build a vinyl collection. I know I dumped on Brendon for suggesting he press copies of Carpet Affair, but my kid's getting way into music and listening to it on his own (via Alexa in my bedroom which is super fucking annoying), so we're getting him his own record player and I think it's going to be a cool activity to go record store diving for whatever classics we can scrounge up.

JD: Get to more shows. Take more aimless strolls spinning tunes.

Bin: Send an email about music on the TBH! thread.

Larse: None

Chap: Eh I'm cool

Most Anticipated of 2020

Code: my man dom said that he is coming back to the world this year. i have to believe that he'll keep his word. i'm thinking 2020 is going to be the year for chromatics' Tommy.

Chap: TWOD, Perfume Genius, Jason Isbell

BC: Huey Lewis and the News, Tame Impala, Run the Jewels

Bronco: Kvelertak and Mastodon, maybe some surprise extra Tool material?

JD: Working Men’s Club

Nasty: Spotify getting Jay-Z's catalog back.

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howwelldoyouknowyourmoon · 5 years

Text

Socialization techniques through which the UC / FFWPU members were able to influence

by Geri-Ann Galanti, Ph.D.

Abstract This article reports on the experiences and thoughts of an anthropologist who, under an assumed identity, participated in a 3-day Unification Church workshop. Although the author’s expectation that she would encounter “brainwashing” techniques was not met, she was, nevertheless, struck by the subtle, yet powerful, socialization techniques through which the UC members were able to influence her. She concludes that, to be effective, preventive education in this area must address the subtleties of the socialization processes that can bring about major personality changes.

__________________________________________

I recently had an encounter with what has been termed “brainwashing,” when I spent a weekend at Camp K, a Moonie training camp in Northern California [in circa 1981-83?]. As a result of my experience there, I would like to offer a few comments on the nature of brainwashing from the perspective of an anthropologist. I went to the camp to do research for a project on deprogramming. I thought it was important to see what the “programming” was all about. I pretended, however, to be a young woman who wandered into their church by chance, and who knew little about Rev. Moon or Moonies.

To begin with, I was allowed plenty of sleep and given a sufficient amount of protein. Both mornings, I got out of bed around 8:30 or 9:00 – when I was tired of laying around. No one made me get up early. We were given eggs, fish, tuna, something that looked like “chicken spam,” lasagna (meatless, but plenty of cheese) and other foods. We were constantly being fed – three meals and about two snacks per day. Most people looked a bit overweight. In any case, the two things I was looking for that might “brainwash” me were not present.

I was further disarmed by the fact that the group let me know right up front that they were the Unification Church, and followers of the Reverent Moon. The San Francisco Bay area center had earned a rather bad reputation for hiding that fact until a new recruit was already well entrenched in the group. Apparently, this is no longer true. I walked into the church on Bush Street in San Francisco on a Friday evening, and the first thing that was said to me was “You understand that this is the Unification Church and that we’re followers of the Reverent Moon?” They also had a permanent sign on the front of their building stating “Unification Church.” The first evening at Bush Street, after showing some interest in the Church, I was shown a videotape about the Church and Reverend Moon. In order to go to their camp for the weekend, I had to sign a release, which clearly stated that I was going with the Unification Church. However, the fact that they were now being honest about who they were, in contrast to their past deceptiveness, served to weaken my defense.

The first night, I heard the word “brainwashing” used four or five time, always in a joking context. I finally asked John, my “spiritual father,” why that word kept cropping up so often. He said it was because people often accuse them of being brainwashed. The explanation I heard several times that weekend in this regard is that “people are so cynical and they can’t believe that we can be happy and want to help other people and love God and each other. So they think that we must be brainwashed to feel this way. Ha! Ha!” I was also told by two different Moonies about a recent psychological study comparing Moonies with young adults from other mainstream religious groups. They told me that Moonies came out much better in terms of independence, aggressiveness, assertiveness, and other positive characteristics. The group is apparently meeting the criticism leveled at them head on. Their explanations seemed so reasonable. They would ask, “We don’t look brainwashed, do we?” And they didn’t.

I somehow expected to see glassy-eyed zombies. I didn’t. There was one new member – he’d been in the group only a month and a half – who seemed to fit that stereotype. When I talked to him, his gaze wandered, his eyes not fixed on anything. But everyone else seemed perfectly normal. They were able to laugh and joke (about everything except themselves, which I’ll discuss later) and talk seriously about things. The only thing that really struck me as strange was a kind of false over-enthusiasm. Any time anyone performed, which was often, everyone would clap and cheer wildly. They were good, but not that good. During lectures, they would underscore points with a hearty “yeah!” I must admit, however, that by the end of the weekend, much of the enthusiasm seemed more charming than odd.

Since the issue was brainwashing, I was constantly monitoring my mental state. During lectures (three per day, each lasting about an hour to an hour and a half), I would sit there and smugly critique the lecture (to myself) as it was presented. My intellectual faculties were as sharp as ever. I was able to note the kinds of techniques they were using as well. Immediately before each lecture, we would sing songs from their songbook, to the accompaniment of a guitar. Their songs are very beautiful, and the lyrics always upbeat. As a result, you start off the lecture feeling good from the singing. The lectures are always ended by singing a few more songs. This puts a whole aura of “goodness” around the lectures.

The lectures were carefully orchestrated so as to create a feeling in the listener that they must be “learned,” rather than analyzed. I could discuss this in greater detail, but for now, I will return to the issue of brainwashing. Despite the use of questionable and manipulative educational techniques, I was constantly aware of the functioning of my intellect and of my beliefs, and at no time did I feel that they were being influenced. This may not be the case with an individual who has not spent 13 years in college, but, as will become clear, it only underscores the power of brainwashing. As an anthropologist, I found their beliefs interesting; as an individual, I found them ridiculous. Nor did I experience any altered states of consciousness to indicate that I was being hypnotized in any way. So I thought I was safe.

What I didn’t realize is that the “brainwashing” – or to use a better term, “mind control” – doesn’t come until later. And what is really being talked about is a process of socialization, one which goes on in every household around the world. Human beings are not born with ideas. Ideas are learned. Anthropologists, more than any other group, perhaps, are aware of the variety of beliefs that are held by people around the world. We acquire these beliefs through a process that involves observation, imitation, and testing. Beliefs that are acquired in childhood are generally the strongest, although they may be changed through experience as one grows older. When we have experiences that conflict with our world view, we either rationalize the experience (e.g., I couldn’t find my necklace in the jewelry box yesterday, but today it’s there – I must have overlooked it, or someone must have taken it and put it back), leaving our beliefs intact (e.g., objects don’t magically disappear and reappear), or, if it happens too often and we are presented with an alternative world view which accounts for it, we may change our beliefs. (This is the stuff that Kuhn writes about in his classic book, The Structure of Scientific Revolutions.) it is possible to explain the same event in many ways. What cults do is to offer an alternative way of looking at things. When everyone holds the same belief but you, their view starts to make sense. Society, especially the smaller scale societies we had throughout most of human evolution, could not operate smoothly if everyone were to hold a different belief about the nature of reality. Millions of years of evolution have selected for a human tendency to be influenced by the beliefs of others. If this were not the case, how could any child be socialized to be a member of the group? There are, of course, rebels and visionaries, people who do not accept the beliefs of the group. But they are much fewer in number. Furthermore, adolescence seems to be a major time for group conformity. Teenagers appear to have a strong need to belong, to look and act like one of the group. And it is these adolescents and post-adolescents who are most strongly attracted to cults.

How does mind control work? Let me rephrase that. Even “mind control” is too strong a term – for it, too, conjures up visions of men reaching invisible fingers into your brain, controlling your thoughts and actions like a puppeteer. I think of it more as a socialization process in which one is led to think like the rest of the group. Robert Lifton, in his seminal book entitled: Thought Reform and the Psychology of Totalism: A Study of Brainwashing in China, outlines the eight conditions that result in ideological totalism: milieu control, mystical manipulation, need for purity, personal confession, acceptance of basic group dogma as sacred, loading the language, subordination of person to doctrine, and dispensing of existence. As I see it, all of these features conspire to do two things: (1) isolate the person within a particular cultural context so that that context becomes the only reality, and (2) make the individual feel that if he becomes a member of the group, he will be special. These features are an inherent part of any culture, and not necessarily purposefully contrived to achieve particular aims. Let me give an example.

Several years ago, I spent a summer doing fieldwork in Guatemala. After a month in the field, I couldn’t remember a lot of things about home, e.g., my husband’s voice. He was back in the U.S. Reality was where I was, in Guatemala. One regret I have is not buying more of the beautiful Indian weavings. The reason I didn’t was that they were “too expensive.” The finest cost approximately $30. To buy something similar here would cost well over $100. But I had internalized the Guatemalan standard of money. That summer, no one was purposely trying to control my environment. It was controlled by virtue of the fact that I was spending most of my time in a small rural village. Though I retained most of my American ways and beliefs, my sense of reality was slowly changing, and Guatemala became the standard by which I tested reality.

Regarding the notion that ideological totalism functions to make an individual feel that if he joins the group, he will somehow be better than everyone who is not a member – this is not a new concept. All cultures promote this idea about themselves. The attitude is called “ethnocentrism.” Everything we do is right and natural; everything outsiders do is unnatural, barbaric, etc. The names that most small scale societies use to refer to themselves generally translate into something meaning “the people” or “human beings,” implying that everyone who is not a member of the group is somehow less than human. Perhaps I am overstating the case, but what I saw the Moonies do was to do on a smaller scale what all cultures do with their members.

The techniques they use are for the most part, not very sinister. They are things we encounter in everyday life. They are how we become socialized. The cult becomes a total subculture.

Which brings me to what I think is the most important part. In the beginning, they don’t influence you by changing your beliefs. As I said earlier, they did not affect mine in the least in that short weekend. (although I should point out that my beliefs are very clear and strong. Most people who join the church are self-described “searchers”: they’re looking for answers.) the way they get to you is emotionally. If you stay with an isolated group of people long enough, you will eventually begin to think like they do, act like they do, see the world as they do. It’s part of human nature. It’s what we anthropologists mean when we talk about enculturation. The degree of enculturation (taking on the culture of another group) will depend upon the relative amount of time you associate with people from your own culture and from the new culture, among other factors. If you associate only with members of the new culture, acculturation will generally be much more rapid.

So how do they get you to stay? By giving you a good time, by being likeable, by being happy. Of all the things I expected to happen that weekend, the last thing I expected was to have a good time. Except for the lectures, which I found rather boring and insulting (I thought they were aimed at about a third grade level), I really had fun. We sang a lot, people performed songs and poems, we put on a group talent show, we played volleyball. We became children again, with no responsibilities. It was like being at camp; in fact, it was called camp: Camp K. the setting was beautiful – in the mountains, along a creek, with lots of trees.

They also make you feel really good about yourself. One of the famous Moonie techniques is “love bombing,” which basically consists of giving someone a lot of positive attention. For example, one morning, Jane said to me, “You know, you’re really one of the most open people I’ve ever met. You don’t put up any defenses. You’re really open. I think that’s so great.” When she said this, part of my mind went “flash. Love-bombing, love bombing.” But the other part of me went, “Yeah, but it’s really true. (Don’t we all like to believe the best about ourselves?) She probably really means it.” In any case, it made me feel good. Despite my intellectual recognition of what she was doing, emotionally, I bought it.

Another technique they use is to make you feel part of the group. New recruits were constantly encouraged to take part in the many performances that were put on. During one of the initial group sessions, when we were introducing ourselves, I mentioned that I like to dance. That night, when we were making up our presentation for the “talent show,” everyone kept urging me to choreograph our musical number. I felt a bit shy about it, but then figured, why not? I had never seen a more supportive group in my life. There was no way to fail – except not to take part. I had about 5 minutes to make up and teach a number to a group of 15. needless to say, my “dance” was simple and rather silly. But it was all in fun and didn’t matter. It made me feel a part of the group. It also gave them ample opportunity for more love-bombing. After the show and all the next day, at least a dozen people came up to tell me what a “great” dance it was. Despite the fact that I knew it wasn’t, it still felt good to have people compliment me on something that is important to me. I was made to feel good by being part of the group.

They also made me feel that I was a lot like individual members of the group. Part of my “cover” was that I was a third grade school teacher. (I did teach 3rd grade for 10 weeks once.) when I told this to my “spiritual father” he replied, “I used to be a school teacher too.” He kept emphasizing how much alike we are. (We’re not.) He also told me how much I remind him of a close friend of his. Someone else told me how much I reminded her of her sister-in-law. Other people told me that I look “so familiar.” It was rather transparent to me that this was merely a technique to make me feel that we were not so different and I could be a part of them. (Actually, this technique was too obvious and not effective on me.)

Socialization also works through subtle peer pressure. At the end of Saturday evening, we once again got in our groups to discuss “what we liked best about the day.” As we went around the circle, people mentioned things like the lecture we had on Rev. Moon, or the movie about the Unification Church, or something that was said in the lecture. As it was coming around to me, I was thinking, “My honest answer would be the volleyball game. I really had a great time playing volleyball. But if I say that, I’m going to sound really shallow compared to everybody else. And I know I’m not shallow.” So I chose something that was also true, thought less so, but which sounded much better. When my turn came, I said, “I really enjoyed meeting a lot of really nice people.” Because of a general human tendency to try to create a positive image of ourselves, I was slowly becoming socialized into the ways of the group. If this were a group that valued physical activity, my true response would have been appropriate. But this was a group that valued God, love, ideals, and so I found myself shaping myself in a way that emphasized the aspects of my being that were most acceptable to the values and standards of the group. We are all multi-faceted. It is a common experience to find that different people or groups of friends being out different aspects of our personality. Generally, we change subtly as we interact with each group, thus emphasizing all aspects of our personality. In a totalist group like the Moonies, however, the group values are so strong and so consistent that only one side of ourselves is elicited and reinforced. We thus shape our personality as we become socialized into the group.

The most powerful aspect of the whole experience was the personal relationships. At the beginning of the weekend, I remember thinking that there really wasn’t anyone there that I would want to be friends with. But by the end of 2 ½ very intense days, I had developed a few attachments, especially to two of the women, Susan and Jane. I also felt very guilty about deceiving them regarding who I was and why I was there. Yet I couldn’t tell them the truth because then I couldn’t be sure that they weren’t treating me differently from others – non-researchers. Even though I knew they were deceiving me in subtle ways and that the ultimate goal that was shaping their behavior toward me was the desire to get me to join the group, I still felt guilty. I honestly liked them. They seemed so open and honest with me, although I still don’t know how open and honest that really was. They seemed to like me. My ego wants to believe they did. The whole cult issue is very clouded in my mind. It is exceedingly complex. If their main motive was to get me to join the group, it was because they believed that by doing so, they were helping to save the world and my soul. Is that so dishonest? Yet how honest is it to consciously use those very effective techniques? I see them as both victims and victimizers. Simultaneously.

They presented a lifestyle alternative that was very appealing. Community, love, idealism. They presented a picture of true happiness. Yet we learn from ex-members (who admittedly have their own biases) that this picture is false. Or at least, only part of the picture. What is left out is the fear and guilt and the loss of self.

What the “brainwashing” is all about, in my view, is grabbing you emotionally. Giving you a good time, showing you others, like yourself, who are fulfilled. People who, like you, were searching for answers to life’s basic questions and found them. Why not stay a little longer, and learn a little more about them? You don’t have to believe in the doctrine right away. You can still think critically at the end of the weekend, when you make the decision to stay on for the 7-day seminar. But you’ve begun to develop emotional ties that will keep you there. To learn a little more. Until they have finally socialized you into their way of life. They grab you emotionally until they can keep you long enough to completely socialize you.

I am writing this article because I think it is important to understand what is going on. I know that I didn’t understand, despite having done a lot of reading and talking to people about it. I think it is because most of us have too many strong associations with the words “brainwashing” and “mind control.” They seem so overt. They’re not. The process can be extremely subtle. But because we have such strong associations, we do not recognize the process in its other manifestations. I think that in part it is because it is so familiar. It is something that happens everyday to every child that is born on this planet. Society is possible only because socialization techniques are effective. Socialization isn’t sinister. The problem I see with the cults is the context. As an anthropologist, I am aware of the existence of what we would term cults in other societies. I think that cults have a greater and more damaging impact in our culture because we value the individual so highly. From discussions with ex-members, it appears that one of the most negative effects of cult involvement is a loss of self. Many other societies value the group over the individual. Although I am not a psychiatrist, I would guess that it is not so damaging to the psyche to give up your individual identity to the group (the cult), if you have always been raised to value the group over the self. But in our culture, where the opposite is true, this can be devastating to many individuals.

I think it was the contrast between my expectations and my experience that allowed the weekend to have such a strong emotional affect on me. I was looking for something big and evil and what I found was very subtle and friendly, so I didn’t recognize its power. I was also mistaken in believing that the socialization process (or the influence process) was intellectual. It’s not. It’s emotional, and thus touches a deeper and more central part of one’s brain. When I left at the end of the weekend, a friend who had been in the Moonies and worked for a while as a deprogrammer picked me up. One of the first things I said to him was, “I had a great time. Remind me again what’s so bad about the Moonies.”

The next day I was interviewing a former deprogrammer. About half-way through the interview I asked her to describe exactly what she did during the deprogramming. She looked me directly in the eye and said, “Exactly what I’ve been doing with you.” This shocked me, because I didn’t think I needed any deprogramming. I didn’t buy their doctrine. They didn’t brainwash me. But they did get to me. I had forgotten all of the organization’s abuses of church members: the long hours of fund-raising, sometimes in dangerous areas, late at night; the lack of proper nutrition; the suicide training; the fear and guilt; the relative poverty the members live in, while the leaders live in splendor; the munitions factory owned by a church which is supposedly striving for world peace; the divisions created between family members; the deception; all of the horrors. Part of me remembered them, because I remember asking questions about what exactly the church does to make the world better, knowing that most members spend them time selling flowers. But that knowledge didn’t seem important. The people seemed good, so by association, the group did too. I had been influenced. The emotional truth was so much stronger than the intellectual one that it was the only one that seemed important.

I have mixed feelings about the use of the term “brainwashing” with regard to cult indoctrination. Because of the general effectiveness of the techniques in influencing a person’s thoughts and actions, I can understand the persistence of its use. If someone like Patty Hearst is going to be defended on such a basis, it needs to be recognized as a powerful and legitimate technique (although degree of susceptibility will vary). However, if the goal is to keep people out of cults, I am afraid the contrast between the stereotypic notion of brainwashing (which I don’t think we can escape) and the experience a new recruit has is to sharp, that people are disarmed and no longer aware of the techniques being used on them. Instead, I would advocate seeing the brainwashing process in the context of socialization. This is something with which we are all familiar and about which we hold few, if any, negative connotations. At the same time, it is something that we are aware of the power of. I would contend that the process of “brainwashing” can best be understood as an intensified socialization experience. I may be quibbling over semantics, but given the fact that the words in question are so loaded, I feel that semantics are important here. The Moonies take the raw material of our human needs – to be loved and to be accepted – and use the same techniques that for centuries cultures have used to shape individuals into members of the culture: peer pressure, reward and punishment, and the experience of being surrounded by individuals who all view the world in the same way.

My weekend with the Moonies was intended to answer some questions I had. Instead, it raised many more. The most solid thing I came away with, however, and my reason for writing this, is a new understanding of brainwashing. If we are to avoid it, we must first learn to recognize it.

__________________________________________

Geri-Ann Galanti is a medical anthropologist, and lecturer at the UCLA School of Medicine. Dr. Galanti was formerly on the faculty of California State University’s Department of Anthropology and California State University’s School of Nursing, where she developed the curriculum for the BSN program’s Cultural Diversity in Healthcare course. Dr. Galanti is a consultant to Civility Mutual.

Geri-Ann Galanti

This article is an electronic version of an article originally published in Cultic Studies Journal, 1984, Volume 1, Number 1, pages 27-36.

__________________________________________

Moon’s ultimate truth is … absolute obedience – Allen Tate Wood

Video: Paul Morantz on Cults, Confession and Mind Control

#Geri-Ann Galanti #Socialization techniques #influence #FFWPU

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scarecrowandmrking · 5 years

Text

The Greatest Show

October 12 was always the hardest day of the year for me. There was a time when I couldn’t and wouldn’t get out of bed on that day. Instead, I would lounge around beneath the covers, cursing heaven and earth and every deity I could think of. It just wasn’t fair that other people have been given wonderful, loving fathers. Fathers who played catch with them out on the lawn and coached little league games and helped them make breakfast for Mom on Mother’s day. Meanwhile, my Dad had died just after deciding he wanted to be a part of my life.

Too little. Too late.

There was a knock on the door.

I pulled the robe tighter around my body, aware that I wasn’t exactly presentable. A part of me didn’t really care anymore. The person coming to visit me tonight already knew I wouldn’t look like a supermodel. We had long since gotten past that stage anyway. He knew he was going to be spending the night watching movies with a chubby, messy haired blond with a sour expression and a sarcastic attitude that did little to hide the pain beneath.

“Hi,” I replied in a rough, croaky voice, the effort to talk after so many hours of crying clearly evident in my discomfort.

My godfather, Mark Pellegrino, stood on the other side of the door, dressed in a zombie shirt and jeans. He had been close friends with my father back in high school, the two men continuing to see one another on off throughout the years. It was Mark who had encouraged my Dad to seek me out. So I guess I had him to both thank and curse for what was happening to me now.

“How you been doing, kid?” Mark knows I hate to be called kid, especially since I wasn’t the little girl in pigtails and rainbow sneakers he had known years ago. I had grown up into a confident, emotionally unstable woman who stayed in every Friday night with her cat and Netflix. And I demanded to be treated with the respect that was due me.

“Nice of you to finally show up.” I let the words hang in the air as I sauntered over to flop on the plush couch. Mark was supposed to have been here five hours previously.

I take note of how he evades answering, choosing instead to give me a smirk as he makes his way around me to sit on the couch opposite. For just a moment, I take in how sexy he looks taking up most of my couch. He’s a big guy, all lean legs and broad shoulders and shaggy blond head. Did he even own a comb?

“What’s it gonna be tonight?”

I take control over the remote, snatching it away from his eager fingers. “Stranger Things 3,” I tell him.

Mark groans. “You know I’m not caught up on that yet.”

I shrug. “The holder of the remote picks the show. The other guy shuts his cake hole.”

A second later and I’m leaning up against him, enjoying the scent of him. The comforting feeling of him against me. We have done this so many times before, he and I. Sitting on the couching, watching movies and shows until the crack of dawn. Sometimes, we would get into a fierce debate on politics, me being a firm socialist and him a devout capitalist, and he would storm out in a huff. And we wouldn’t speak to one another for days afterwards. But, usually, things were pretty good between us. Much better in fact than any romantic relationship I had ever been in. My love life, as always, was a total disaster area on pat with Jurassic Park any day of the week.

About three episodes into Stranger Things, I began to notice something had changed between Mark and I. Maybe it was the fact that his arm was slung loosely over my shoulders, which had never happened before. Or maybe it was because I was for some reason more aware of just how close we were. Not just on a physical level, but and emotional and spiritual one. Nobody had ever made me feel as safe or as loved. Nobody had ever gotten through to me like he did.

I nuzzled him, eager to explore these new feelings, but not wanting to freak him out.

A second later, I reached up and kissed him on the cheek. Just a gentle, light peck. But I was rewarded by a small sigh on his part. I took that as the green light and placed another kiss on the side of his throat.

“What’s this about,” he asked, but the question came out as a pleasant and not agitated one, as he turned his head to nuzzle my forehead, his lips barely grazing the skin a second later. “What’s gotten into you?”

I pull away from him, searching his face. This was a man who meant so much to me, a part of me didn’t want to risk ruining that. But another, deeper part of me wanted everything that would come from knowing once and for all where I stood with him. What we were to each other.

“I love you.” Simple. To the point. Had to be gotten out of the way.

Mark grinned back at me, a confused look on his face. “I love you, too, kid. Always have.”

I took his face in my hands and just planted one on him, eagerly pressing my lips to his. I felt Mark stiffen immediately, as if I had cast some kind of spell on him that had frozen him in place. I pushed on, letting my fingers stroke through his blond hair, lightly scratching the scalp beneath.

A second later I heard him murmuring my name softly beneath his breath, his lips and body suddenly moving against me. In a second, he had reached out and pulled me tightly against him, his hands wandering all over my robe.

I tossed the robe, now unwanted, onto the floor.

Mark took in my body with a look of such love and devotion that I found it hard to look him in the eyes. Suddenly, I wanted nothing more than to put my robe back on and run for my bedroom. I feared that I could never live up to that kind of adoration. I reached for my robe, but Mark batted my hand away.

“You’re perfect just the way you are,” he tells me, getting down onto his knees before me.

I throw my head back as he kisses me, from my head, down to the tips of my heavy breasts, all the way down to my knees, which he plants kisses on and nibbles. I lean back and close my eyes.

“Yes, Daddy,” I moan.

A second later, he spreads me open with his hands, letting his tongue delve into my hot slick. I arch back, twinging my hands in his head, all thought pushed out of my head as he expertly works me over. Nothing has ever felt this good. Nothing. My whole body shudders as he licks and sucks my engorged clit, large fingers plunging in and out of my throbbing pussy. I rock back and forth, trying and failing to keep from screaming out my pleasure and need.

“Come for me. Come for Daddy,” he tells me, gazing up at me in a way that made me totally lose all control.

I bite my lip, eyes closed as I am pulled down into the throes of a powerful climax. There isn’t even enough thought left to hold back my fluids, as I might have done with another partner, and so I let loose a hot jet of fluid that dribbled down Mark’s chin and onto the floor.

“Good girl,” Mark tells me, standing up and pushing me back onto the couch.

He undoes his belt,and I have a mere second to admire his length and girth before he lays down on top of me, his mouth devouring mine. I can feel his hand moving under me, lining the head of his cock up to my dripping opening.

“I love you,” he tells me, his eyes staring deeply into mine as me makes one deep, hard push.

I grab tightly onto his shoulders, loving the feel of him stretching me open. God, of all the times I had stroked myself, imagining this moment, it had never felt this good. I leaned forward, open mouth licking and sucking on his neck as he started fucking me at a fast and hectic pace. I could feel how much he was holding himself back, his body quivering against me with each thrust. I cried out his name, begging him to go faster, harder. I needed more of him. I wanted all of him.

Mark grabbed onto my breasts, sucking first one rose colored tip, then the other, losing himself in my breasts and mouth and cunt. I came another time, wrapping my legs tightly around him and riding out the waves, loving every second I got to be with him like this. He looked so sexy and powerful and aroused. His scent and taste intoxicating to me.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his head tilting back, his back going rigid as he was overtaken by his own climax.

A second later, I felt the warm spurts filling up my pussy. He came and came, until the pressure of the fullness almost pushed him out of me. I clenched my legs to keep him in. I loved how warm his seed was inside of me. His body’s gift to mine.

Mark collapsed down on top of me, the side of his face pressed against my chest. His breathing shallow at first, then becoming almost normal after a while.

“Fuck, you’ll do anything to get out of watching Stranger Things 3,” I told him.

Mark laughed. “You have no idea.”

I looked down at him, “Anything?”

He laughed. “Care to find out?”

#mark pellegrino #MarkPellegrino #fanfiction

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jaauroo · 6 years

Text

Our Adventure - Sean Diaz x Reader [Part 2]

Gif found here

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |

A click of the lock echoed out through the empty house. I set my bag that was hanging on my shoulder down on the couch that was near the door. Finally getting the chance to look at my home, the kitchen and living room was littered with empty beer bottles and dirty dishes.

"Are you kidding me? I just cleaned yesterday." I mumbled to myself as I picked up as much bottles as I could carry and threw them into the recycling bin in the kitchen. Honestly how can someone make this much of a mess in less than twenty-four hours? Now to cleaning up the dishes.

While picking up the dirty plates and placing them into the sink so I could get ready to clean them, my phone buzzed in my back pocket of my pants. Gently placing the last dish into the sink I pulled out my phone and turned it on to check the notification. On the lock screen it read "Lyla". Geez what did she want now.

"U know he likes u" is what read in the screen when I unlocked and opened my phone. I bit my lip in trying to think of a reply to that. I know that she means Sean. But getting my hopes up is the last thing I need right now. Plus he likes Jenn right? He can't like both Jenn and I. I kept bouncing my leg in anticipation as I finally came up with a reply. I typed on my keyboard and sent the message.

The message was simple and only consisted of one word, "who?" is what I said in reply.

Of course Lyla immediately read it and started to reply back. The three animated dots at the bottom of the screen just made me bounce my leg even more. Along with that, I started to bite my bottom lip, which caused it to turn slightly red from the pressure. A few seconds went by and my phone vibrated showing that a new message was received.

It read, "wow k you're more stupider than I thought. skype me in 5" I rolled my eyes at her message as I didn't respond back to her. I just locked my phone and stuffed it back into my pocket where it usually remains at. "The dishes can wait." I muttered, exiting the kitchen and entering the living room again. I approach the couch where I left my backpack at and pick it up to bring it to my room with me.

When I entered my room I slammed my door shut, following after that I threw my bag onto the bed which resulted in a slight thud noise. I sighed and walked over to my decent size desk where I mainly complete all of my wonderful homework on. Flipping open my MacBook I saw it flashed a low battery sign. Walking over to my bed I went to the nearest plug and unplugged my charger that was abandon there throughout the day.

In just a few steps, I went back over to my desk and plugged the charger in the nearest outlet there was. Finally plugging in the charger to the laptop, I proceed to unlock it by entering my password. When it showed the home screen the first thing I did was open the application Skype.

The moment it finished loading I clicked on Lyla's contact which was in my recent, considering she is one of very little of my friends. I clicked on the video call button, which in an instant she once again quickly answered. "You called?" I half joked as I propped my elbow on the desk and used my hand to support my head.

"Okay I wanted to call you before we get in a group call with Sean." Lyla informed me as I slowly nodded, her watching my every move. She inhaled some air before continuing, "Anyway, since you're so dense to even realize that Sean likes you." My friend emphasis the 'sean' part. "And sorry for hooking Jenn up with Sean. I didn't expect it to go so well!" I side eyed Lyla before I moved from my currently position to rub my face with my hands.

I can already feel the stress acne.

"Look Lyla, I don't really care if they're going well or not. As long as he's happy and good, then great! I'll still be there for him. I honestly don't even want a relationship right now." My response had a bit of clear annoyance in my voice, which I didn't mean to do. I know Lyla means well. But whenever the topic about me liking Sean comes into play, she won't drop it. After what I said there was an awkward pause between us. She was most likely just trying to come up with a response.

"I'm sorry for pressuring this onto you. I just want the best for you." She apologized, her tone much softer than it usually is in her playful attitude. Lyla really comes off as a handful and that's what a lot of people misinterpret about her. The reason I came to love her so much was her loving, caring, and very affectionate side. When we first met (thank you Sean), I honestly had the same idea and view point. I didn't like her at all and always tried to ignore her, but she kept persisting to be my friend, and even calling me one when I didn't see her as one.

The moment I finally accepted Lyla as a friend was when I was having a mental break down at school, she basically dropped her playful persona to make sure I was okay. Really, I thought she was just all happy, rainbow and sunshine, but her showing that side made me feel at peace. At a young age I learned not everything is all good and dandy. Hence why I didn't really accept my current best friend back then.

Hell, even to this day is still get annoyed by that part of her. But what she shows on the inside is what really matters to me.

"I know you're looking out for me... But we gotta look out for Sean too, you know? It isn't just us in our inner circle." I explained to Lyla kind of frantically doing hand motions as I do so. My voice being in a much, much softer tune I continued, "When I say I'm okay, I mean it. Now we got to do what's best for him. Alright?"

She nodded once I finished what I was saying. Quietly saying 'alright' afterward but it seemed more as of she mouthed it. "Okay," Lyla started positioning her self out of the slouch position to change her mood, "before we bring Sean into the call I want to know if you want to spend a night at my house after the party."

I took a moment and weighed the ups and downs before giving her an answer. "Sure why not. Don't have anything else to do afterward." I shrugged my shoulders as I sunk into my chair.

"Great! Now let me finish getting ready before we bring Sean into the call." Lyla cheered as she got up and looked around her room for the needed materials. "Yeah about that I'm going to go and get ready..." I trailed off, my mouse hovering over the red end call button. Lyla rushed over to her desk saying, "Wait, Y/n wa-"

I cut her off by waving and having an innocent smile on my face as I said bye, proceeding to end the call.

Slowly I leaned lower into my seat as I contemplated things. Sighing, I got up and grabbed an empty backpack off a hook that was up on the wall. I tend to have spare bags so I can use them for sleepovers, traveling, and anything else. So I don't have to deal with taking all of my school supplies out of my current backpack I use.

I held the colored backpack in my non-dominate hand as I went over to my closet to pick out some clothing to just stuff into the bag.

This somewhat continued on for a few minutes of just me gathering anything important that I may need to spend a night at Lyla's house. Now as for the money situation, my father and I typically have a wad of cash kept hidden. The money comes from part of when my dad gets paid and the same with me. Yes I surprisingly have a job when most of the weight on my shoulder's involve school. Anyway, the money is just in case of an emergency pops up, or for situations like this when I need to borrow it when I'm out of cash. Obviously I'm not taking all of it, but enough so I have something to keep myself alive.

Taking the money out of the secret stash, I continue onward back into my room where I pull my wallet out of my school bag and just stuff the money into there. I threw the money holder into my 'sleepover' bag. A good amount of thirty dollars should last me for a few snacks I may possibly buy. I zipped up the bag, finally finished with my task. I flopped down onto my bed with my back laying against the cushion and one leg dangling off the bed. I swung my leg back and forth while I took my phone out of my pocket to check any social media or messages I may have received.

A knock on the front door killed the silence that was throughout the whole house. The loud and erupt noise startled me which caused a reaction of me jumping in my bed. My bed was positioned next to the window, so I crawled over to the other side of the bed to look out the front yard. Which also conveniently allowed me to see who was at the door.

With the blinds in the way it was hard to see who it actually was. But with the small frame and messy brown hair, it made it pretty easy to tell. The knocking continued, obviously the small boy being impatient. I rushed out of my bedroom to the living room and opened the front door.

"Hi Daniel. What are you doing here?" I looked around the small boy trying to look for any sign that Sean might've been with him or even Esteban. I've also noticed he had a zombie like outfit on, though I didn't bother to question it since he did tell me his 'secret' project he was working on. Daniel had a slight sway in his posture, "Sean kicked me out of his room and I wanted to know if you want to play with me." He avoided eye contact with me when he explained to me what happened. I pinched the bridge of my nose and mumbled out, "Of course he would do that." I sighed and put a slight smile on my face as I crouched down to his level.

"Yeah! I'll totally play with you. Just go back across the street and wait for me there okay? I'll keep an eye on you so make sure you're safe." I instructed the youngest Diaz. He nodded his head and said a quiet 'okay'.

I stood up properly, watching him make his way back over to his house safely. The smile stayed on my face as I closed my door to prevent any warm air leaving the home. 'He's so adorable.' I thought, walking out of the main area of the house.

'Something very bad is about to happen.' A deep and what seemed like a disoriented voice echoed throughout what felt like the house. I stopped in my tracks and put my hand up to forehead, closing my eyes. 'Why now?' I got no response in return as I took a deep breath and just tried to ignore what happened and continue back to what I was doing.

I skipped my way over to room for what seemed like the thousandth time and grabbed my bag, putting it on. Also picking up my phone that I abandoned on the bed and put it back in its usual spot.

Walking out the house, I made sure I locked the doors to prevent any intruders as any normal person should do. I quickly dashed across the street not looking both ways, which I might add is very dangerous thing to do. But it's not like anyone really drives down these streets often.

Slowing down my pace once I was in view of the lovely Diaz house. I glanced over the area to find Daniel, instead I see the moment when he accidentally spills his fake blood onto the asshole of a neighbor. Once again I pick up my pace and grabbed Daniel to quickly shove him behind me. "What the hell do you think your doing?!" I yelled at Brett, taking notice of the fact that he got to close to Daniel for my liking.

You can clearly see the fact that the taller boy was fuming in anger, "What I'm doing?! That little asshole spilt fake blood all over my shirt!" He stepped closer to try and grab a hold of Daniel but I took a few steps back to make sure I nor Daniel was within reach of him. "He's a kid you dumb fuck! Of course he would accidentally spilt something!" I countered back.

Brett didn't have any words and just stormed past me, pushing me in the process, to grab onto Daniel's arm. I fell onto the ground which was covered in dirt with a few grass patches here and there. I guess you could say I was stunned. For sure Brett was a douche bag, but it absolutely shocked me that he would even lay a hand on me.

When I got up off the ground, Sean came to both of our rescues. He pushed the white skinned male off of Daniel. I latched my hand onto the younger boys' wrist to put him behind me once again.

"Don't ever touch my brother! Or Y/N! You hear me Brett?" Sean said threateningly, but Brett only replied back with a weak "fuck you".

Brett gestured to his shirt, "He got his fake blood shit all over my shirt... Look!" He angrily pointed at his article of clothing trying to make his statement clear. Daniel walked out from behind Sean and I. "I told you it was an accident." Daniel tried to defend himself, which of course Sean and I obviously believed, "You better leave us alone!"

For the second time Brett tried to grab at him, but Sean stepped in the way while Daniel also hid behind me. "C'mon Daniel let's go inside." I whispered to the boy that was hiding behind me. "Yeah go hide in your dad's garage!" Brett tried to sound scary which really had no affect on both my best friend and I, but with Daniel I'm not to sure.

I grabbed onto Daniel's wrist to try and lead him inside, as the two teens were insulting each other, but he wouldn't budge. "Daniel. Come on." I tried to tug once again but he wouldn't move. I really didn't want this young kid to see a fight go down. But him not moving a single inch really isn't helping.

Sean threw a punch which made Daniel speak up about it. The eldest kid looked at me while Brett was recovering from the punch he gave him. He then looked at Daniel and pointed in the direction of the house, "Get inside! Now." Sean attempted to help which really did nothing. While he was distracted Brett tried to tackle him.

"Okay, we're going now." I demanded, as I tried to pick up Daniel but he just struggled in my grasp. "Daniel we're going inside."

"But what about Sean?"

"He'll be fine Daniel." I finally successfully picked him up after him twisting around in my grasp to try and escape. Sure I felt horrible for taking him against his own will, but as I said, I didn't want him to witness a fight that he shouldn't even be seeing.

Sean seems to have manage to push Brett down, but he didn't get back up or seem responsive. "Shit." I whispered, a police siren coming closer. Though that wasn't my main concern right now.

I dropped Daniel on the ground and instructed him to go inside. "Y/N, get over here!" Sean called out for help as I rushed over to the other side of Brett and kneeled down next to him. The younger brother popped up next to me, who obviously didn't listen to my instructions. "Sean is he hurt?" Daniel asked obliviously.

"Well he's breathing... somewhat. That's a good sign." I thought aloud. I had no idea what to do. What would any person do in this situation exactly?

"Okay... okay, step away!" The officer commanded, "Now!" He continued.

I followed his instructions, slowly backing up from the neighbor. "Calm down officer." Sean told him. I snapped my head towards him, "Sean you need to listen to him. You too Daniel." I got up raising my hands in the air to hopefully show that I'm possessing no threat.

The officer continued to tell us to be quiet. Though I noticed his hand was behind his back.

Sean and Daniel got up with me, walking away from the gasping boy on the ground. This is really a horrible situation to be in. When the adult went to inspect Brett he pulled out his gun and instructed us to get on the ground.

"H-hey man don't be waving that gun around." My body started to shake. I'm not even going to lie, I am terrified right now. The officer simply didn't listen to what I said, Sean and Daniel tried to reason which wasn't really the best thing to do. All three of us went down on the ground, although a bit hesitant and shaky.

This man was pointing a gun at three kids, let alone he has his finger on the trigger. Really you could tell this was his first encounter of something like this.

I couldn't calm my nerves. My eyes just kept looking everywhere except the scene in front of me. My mind is just thinking of how this could actually be happening right now. It went from defending a little brother to having an officer point a gun at us.

Looking over I see Esteban coming around the corner, and instantly sprinting towards us. The officer reacted fast and directed the armed weapon towards him instead of us. Once Sean and Daniel saw their father they tried to explain to him what happened, which then led to Esteban explaining to the cop they meant no harm. I stayed quiet scared out of my mind. I glanced up to see the officer looking extremely overwhelmed.

The gun was just pointing back and forth between us. I noticed Esteban took a step forward, that then caused a reaction out of the officer. A sound of the gun went off. A heavy thud of the Diaz's boys dad fell to the ground. Not even a second after, the sound of Daniel screaming erupted throughout the whole block.

#life is strange #life is strange 2 #sean diaz #daniel diaz #sean diaz x reader #lis fanfic

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nomadmilk · 5 years

Text

Big Break (Peter Parker x F!Reader) - PART 3

Summary: It’s difficult working as CEO of Stark Industries, even if it was temporary. Stress has gotten the better of you, and so has Parker’s. Together, somehow, you guys find a way to escape your busy work lives.

Total Word Count: 10838 (Split into parts).

RATING: T+

Warnings: Erm... Tad bit of SpiderSon and IronDad in this one. Fluffy, awkward, Parker 😁

Author’s Note: Had fun writing this one 😁 I love Tony and Peter’s dynamic. Hope you enjoy, and thank you for reading!!

The next day at work really made you conscious about how close you and Peter physically were. Schedules proceeded as soon as the sun arose. Peter had slept in the compound again, and you had just arrived, pristine in your suit, just in time for his bed hair.

“Peter, do you want to put your shirt on?”

You thought it best to keep things calm… When was Peter Parker ripped? That should have occurred to you when he goes on missions to protect the entire population. It’s definitely reassuring.

Focus still fuzzy, Peter gave a groan, sauntering back to his bedroom. “I had a goodnight’s sleep, thanks to you.”

Even his morning voice sounded lower, and a little more scruffy.

“Are you okay, Y/N?”

“Yes.” You nod. “Your, erm, your plane to Wakanda.”

He rubs his eyes. “Right. When’s it going?”

“In two hours.”

With that, he left the room, disappearing around the corner to get ready for his day.

Peter had taken a couple of suits from his lab to take with him to Wakanda. Shuri had some daring ideas with the possibility of a malfunctioning suit, but Peter thought it best not to mention the latter to his superiors when they asked.

Whilst Peter went to do some experimental engineering, you carried on with your day. Happy had his regular appearance of the morning, and gave you the daily scope of the employees, and any happenings and updates that were new with the company. You went to a meeting scheduled after lunch, but was pushed back earlier to side with the board’s own itinerary. It left the afternoon with a little bit of space to catch up on contract reading, and filing.

In Wakanda, Peter was watching Shuri etch the design of his suit on a floating screen, idly approving her suggestions and notions.

“… I’m sure if we add the right components, it might form your own kinetic redistribution system in the suit, without having to re-name your hero alias.”

“Yeah.” Peter was looking at the ground. “Sounds great.”

Shuri swivelled in her chair to him. “Does it, really?”

“Yeah, really, sounds fun. Thanks, Shuri. Can’t wait to-“

“Okay.” She raised her hands, disassociating herself from the plans. “What’s her name?”

His voice went high-pitch. “What?”

She couldn’t help but mock him. “‘What’?”

“What ‘what’?”

“Did you guys go on a date?”

“No. We went to, uh, an arcade-“

“That’s basically a date.”

“No, she was just trying to help me relax-“

Shuri smirked. “She was helping you relax?”

“Shuri, no- I don’t-“

“M-hm. And, you haven’t thought about that ever?”

“It was just a few hours with Y/N, playing Tetris, shooting zombies-“

“Did you try to win her a claw machine stuffed toy?”

Peter frowned, and cracked internally.

It was a date. He should have tried harder for the damn frog.

Shuri’s lungs got caught in her laughter briefly. “Get out of my lab, and come back when you can actually pay attention.”

How could he be so stupid in not knowing it was a date? It’s not like he’s been on one for a while given the circumstances. On the other hand, it was your suggestion to take a break, and a break is a break, and not a date… You guys both hugged it out at the end. It was past midnight, and the owner of the diner had to kick you out. However, he did it quite politely as you were a regular, and having pancakes with Spider-Man. He hadn’t walked you home, but you reassured him that you were safe and sound when you reached your apartment.

He should have walked you back to your apartment. It would have given him more time with you, more time to talk, another opportunity to get to know each other better more than people behind desks. The first time you heard him use Spanish, was when you both met; you had bumped into a pillar hearing him read a file in the language. He knew you were more than just impressed with his linguistic skills, and it wasn’t just to throw you off, but he loved seeing your face react. Obviously, before your face hit the pillar… He realised he wanted to really know you, like what makes you smile, what makes you react in certain ways…

He didn’t know you were even the slightest bit interested about Lego, or that you had experience with Mortal Kombat and miniature golf… He was distracted, curious, and apprehensive about last night. When he thought about it, there were so many things he wanted to speak to you about.

His foot hadn’t stopped moving until the plane had landed back to the compound. He was expecting you to be the one to greet him a welcome.

“Mr Parker!” Tony called out as Peter stepped down the metal stairs. “How’s my little webslinger?”

“Hey, Mr Stark.” He greeted, passively. Frowning in confusion at the word ‘little’. “Where’s, uh, Y/N?”

Tony was taken aback. He removed his sunglasses swiftly, squinting from the glare of the sun on the runway. “Excuse me? Not seeing the appreciation here.”

Peter shook his head. “Sorry, Mr Stark. What are you doing back?”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y alerted me about one of my suits that I built for you leaving the country.”

Peter made a mental note to check a ‘Training Wheels Protocol’, or equivalent, on all the suits.

“And, she also told me that you and Y/N were out of the compound between 3:30pm, and didn’t get back until 1am.” Peter was familiar with his mentor’s tone, not liking where the conversation was going. Tony put a hand on his shoulder, guiding him out of the runway and into the Avenger’s building. “Would you mind telling me what happened?”

Tony saw Peter gulp.

“Y’know, it’s okay to give yourself a little breather sometimes.” Tony began, stepping into an elevator. “I’m glad you weren’t stuck with that soldering iron for another night.”

“Yeah.” Peter tried to avoid a second gulp. “It, uh, was really fun.”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y told me that you went to an arcade? Did you make a move?”

“What? No? Why would I-“

“You kinda’ stare at her sometimes-“

Peter scowled. “Sir-“

“You’re right, my bad. Keeping it professional.”

The elevator hummed as it ascended. In the silence, Tony pursed his lips, and kissed his teeth.

Tony felt bad. The reason he brought the kid along was cause’ of the Sokovia Accords, and the extra man power for the fight at the Berlin Airport. Peter Parker is a gifted person, and it didn’t take long for Tony to figure that out. However, through his own selfish means, he pulled him into the superhero gig, and doesn’t know how to push him out, even for a little bit.

So seeing him crush on the temporary CEO was refreshing.

The elevator announced the floor, and once again Tony’s hand was back onto the unsettled adolescent’s shoulder, stepping them out of the confined space. “I’m glad Pepper hired her. Y/N. She did you a favour. I can’t even get you to call me by my forename, and she managed to get you out of that lab of yours. Must be a special person to you.”

Tony was aware about the height growth, almost jealous by it, but throughout the years Peter’s eyes never really changed. He felt Peter’s puppy irises turn to him, and he resisted the urge to give him an innuendo quip to diminish it. Tony sighed; despite the kid being in his twenties, it didn’t look like he had the talk yet.

“Mr Stark.” Peter finally spoke. “Y/N has been Pepper’s assistant for a long while. Yeah, I like her. But I don’t wanna’, y’know, mess with that.”

“You guys got another date? How about next week?”

“Mr Stark, is this a test?”

“No!” Tony stops in front of him, his hands almost massaging his temples. “Look. I just want you to know, that dating anyone in the workplace is a dangerous idea. But this is coming from me – a guy who clearly didn’t care about that, and still doesn’t.”

Well, the man did marry a woman who used to be his assistant, and now ran his company.

Happy had been waiting on a couch, reading the newest issue of People magazine. Once Tony called out his name, he made a brisk stand and was pacing towards him, greeted him as his boss – even though he technically wasn’t at the moment – handing a recognisable toy frog, of which was tossed from Tony, to Peter’s chest.

Peter wasn’t quite sure how to feel as he felt the claw machine toy in his palms. Should he be surprised? Still unsettled? “This- How’d you-“

“I was able to get Y/N’s plan for the day, and guess what?” Tony pointed to you in Pepper’s office. “She’s available.”

Peter felt Tony’s palm on his back; more of a shove than an encouragement. “Get in there, bud. Ask her what’s she’s doing, or maybe if she likes fresh avocado… Still don’t get why you and that Ned kid laugh about that…”

Happy held the transparent door. You look up from your desk noticing Peter stumbling in, Happy saluting you, and Tony grinning ear-to-ear.

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viampythonissam · 5 years

Text

Intro, continued...

It was then I became obsessed with death and the occult, desperately trying to make contact with my grandfather through anything possible. Being clairaudient, I was expecting to hear a message from my grandfather all throughtout the whole funeral and mourning period, but to no avail. So in my desparation, I went into research, and stumbled upon things such as the ouija, seances, and many more. I even considered dabbling into necromancy, just in order to hear from him again. His death broke me so much that I was for the most time wishing I were dead too. I had suicidal thoughts but somehow something has prevented me from attempting. It could be I'm too chicken to hurt myself (getting hurt by other things besides self-infliction doesn't scare me though) or the thought of my mother crying over my dead body is another thing that would crush my heart.

I started questioning my religious beliefs then. We were Roman Catholics, and we go to church, but not too often. I am very religious though when I was a child, having been schooled in a private Catholic school, and I know all the prayers by heart; but it all changed. I felt resentment for praying so hard but never getting answered. That everything happens for a reason. A reason still so vague to me to this day, which I continue to believe was the same reason of the breaking apart of this family and eventual downfall. The family is in ruins, and the family home is crumbling apart. My father's only brother, my uncle Aldrin, died a little over two years after my grandfather; and his widow and only child, my cousin, was estranged ever since then, because of inheritance issues. My father decided to sell the house, my childhood home because of this; splitting the family fortune already so that we can all go off our separate ways and stop the bickering. The only thing that's keeping him from doing so is my grandmother who is still so attached to the house built by my grandfather.

At 16, I eventually traversed my way into the craft, dabbling on it. There was a kind of pull into these mystics that appealed to someone like me. Was it power? Was it danger? Mystery, perhaps? Or maybe I just got all too familiar with the unknown for me to be comfortable chasing after it? This craft, shunned by my faith since the dawn of time and even killed tons of people because of it, felt like home to me; learning it felt like retracing my steps back from where I came from. There was a sense of calm, relief, and freedom learning the ways of the earth, elements, and spirits and those who came before. Its unrestrictive nature was a stark contrast to the repressive and dominating teachings of the Catholic scriptures. Wherein Christianity demands a million things to do and not to do to save your soul, the craft only ever wanted you to do anything you want, just as long you harm none, even yourself. I have a lot of arguments to make against my old faith, that's why I consider myself an agnostic in all fairness. That's a topic for another day.

When I got to college at 17, I applied for nursing school under my father's wishes. It was in my misfortune to be enrolled in a school with a toxic environment of sorts: unhealthy clinic hours, unreasonable school workload, toxic Christian classmates who bombarded me everyday with bible verses and inviting me to join Sunday worship thingies. I am very respectful of other's beliefs and opinions but I really have a bone to pick with the Born Agains because upon knowing I am interested in dark movies and occult, they've started telling me that the Devil has a grip on my soul and that I should stop it so that my soul can be saved. They're even worse than the Mormons and Witnesses who knock on your door at certain days. I'd just ignore it and they'll go but BAs will stop at nothing to guiltify me of being possessed and that I need deliverance. It was also the time my parents went to Australia for work because of the failing finances due to to my late grandfather's hospital expenses, my uncle meeting his untimely demise, and my uncle's greedy widow who already demanded their inheritance even though my grandmother was still alive. My best friends of highschool also attended different schools and pursued different career pathways which left me feeling more isolated and unsure of myself. These issues fed my undiagnosed depression and relapse of suicidal thoughts all throughout my 4 years in nursing school. It was a mix of emotions, a rollercoaster ride of disappointments, achievements, first-time experiences, full independence. All without a proper support system. Nevertheless, I grew wiser while treading the craft, and for the first time since I lost my grandfather, I felt safe and sound and complete.

Then I met my elementary school sweetheart again in my final year and we became a couple. He was a sweet guy, smart and responsible. We had our similarities, our quirks, but we also had differences. I was already quite a learned witch, studying tarot and palmistry as my supposed-to-be expertise, when he told me how he wanted to be baptised as a Born Again (he and his family are Roman Catholics as well). He told me how he was deeply affected by the one time he went to a worship service of his friend's church. This struck a chord in me, a subtle reference to my beliefs. At the time, I have fully believed he is the man I'm gonna settle for, the one I'm gonna marry. He's everything I have hoped for then: he's finished school, on his way to a very decent career on a ship as a marine engineer. He's from a good family as well. Well-mannered, and not to mention that we've got a pretty long history way back when we we're 10 or so. He even made a subtle proposal of a civil marriage before he hops on board the ship. I know it was betrayal of myself, but I love this man so much so, I am ready to submit myself to him.

Worst decision of my life. I started to try and mingle with Christians so I may understand just why I needed to be saved. I joined worship services and sang with them against my own beliefs. I taught myself to be like them just so I could fit in, so that I may have friends. In return, they've burned all my books and tarot decks. Even my Slipknot t-shirt that my grandmother bought me was not spared from the Christian pyre. Said that it's to release me from the grip of the Devil. They even did deliverance to me. For a while I thought I was given a new lease on life and that this is the only right thing to do. I was easily convinced since it was the most trying time of my life so far: I was killing myself reviewing for the nursing licensure exams, my parents are already coming to get us and live away in Australia for good, my bf and I hit rock bottom and broke up (the girl who is the 3rd party confessed to me that they're having an affair, and that she was so guilty she can't sleep at night knowing we are good friends and they're doing this behind my back, also I've noticed red flags about him that made me doubt him a bit. I factored everything and the dots connected like a damn constellation so I've called it quits), and I was caught in an identity crisis because of inner turmoil. Maybe it was a time of personal upheaval and the mix of situations was too much for me to handle. Maybe it was a good thing though that I never got baptised because my life just got much more complicated after that.

So I did pass the licensures, ex and I never got together again, I went to live to Australia, but I never recovered from the inner turmoil thing; which made me spiral down again the depression lane, this time in its dangerous, ugliest and darkest recesses. I was fighting with my parents which I never did before, I was angry all the time. I started drinking then and I was exhausted all the time I just want to sleep. All the activities I've enjoyed before like sketching, playing the piano, afternoon strolls, and cooking for the family, I've totally lost interest in. My health deteriorated and I cut off and isolated myself from my friends overseas, ignoring their messages and emails. I tried to cope up by immersing myself in Christian songs and scriptures but it was not enough. I was still empty and numb. I was like a zombie, waking up just enough not to get late for work, then go home after, eat unhealthily, play video games, chug a bottle or two of beer, surf the net for worthless and trivial things, and sleep very late, like around 3 to 5 am, only to wake up again a few hours later for work. This was a vicious daily cycle that went on for 4 years. The only reprieve I had was my video games, and my sombre playlist, just enough to block the deafening screams of suicidal thoughts and ideations before I go to sleep. There was also a time I was going home from my internship waiting for the train home, that I thought of just jumping on the train tracks to end the struggle and pain. I was more than ready to attempt as I felt braver now. That was the time I lost all fear for death. Hell, I was ready to buy a rope at Bunnings too as well. But at the back of my head, the same sad picture of my mother crying over my dead body stops me from doing such thing. They said the deliverance was supposed to stop these things, but guess what? It was it that brought it back. It was supposed to keep the demons away, but it did the opposite, and felt so trapped in a cage of deceit and lies. I was supposed to be saved, but why did it felt like I was dying?

It was then I pondered over everything that's happened in my life so far. Where did I fall, where did I stand tall, where did I pick myself up? I thought long and hard enough and decided to start off where it began to crumble: back home. Retracing my steps back to Manila, now 25, I found my old stuff in my old room, before things happened. It reminded me of my simple life and my freedom and innocence. Back when I had complete control of my life. Back when I was the master of my fate. I let the people around me convince me that the man from the sky take the wheel, and it damn well crashed. A head-on collision with a destructive force. I decided to go back to my roots, the one where I felt best. And embracing it tighter than ever and promising to never betray it anymore for any reason.

My ex is now preparing to marry his girlfriend of 3 years. We met accidentally and forgave him already. I'm happy for him and that hopefully his happiness continue on. My old friends are still my friends, but there's already a notable gap between which I do not intend to close at all anymore. I do have new friends now and I keep a healthy distance from them whilst making a worthwhile connection. I am now preparing to enter med school in August and become a surgeon someday. The old house is in shambles, and I realized that a house is not a home, but the family that lives in it. I miss my parents and that my family will always come first, but I am happy to be more independent now and live by myself while studying medicine. Things are well between me and my cousin (my late uncle's child) and that I have forgiven his mother already for the hurt and trouble that they caused us. We see each other as he visits me and grandmother here at the old house every 2 months. When BAs, Mormons, and other religions try to do bible study to me, I am now assertive to tell them that I am agnostic and that I am firm in my beliefs. I am now recovering from my self-destructive ways and more optimistic and living healthier. Love is around, but it felt to me that I have lots to undertake first before I commit myself to someone again. I have backlogged so much that my time has to be devoted to the craft, my family and myself first before anything else. I am trying hard to pick up all the pieces and it seems things are finally going back in its right place. And the craft, after all these years, welcomed me back with open arms without any questions, like a mother does to her child. The sun, moon and the stars never shone brighter before, the day I returned home and answered its longing call.

Now. I have to let this off my chest now once and for all. Pleasure. Why is it a sin to pursue whatever makes you happy? Why must you endure pain just so you can be saved? Isn't that a crooked logic? Why must you be averse to your own will just so you get into a good place in the afterlife? I am only human, I am flawed, but it isn't my fault because I was born and created this way. Why must I be punished for something that is natural for me? If being free and happy costs me a one-way ticket to Hell, then I'd best be off. If my witchcraft, which teaches the opposite of your tyrannic religion, is a surefire way to deliver me there, then I'll make sure I will be a remarkable witch and enjoy my lifetime, and be very ecstatic to march down the fiery highway to Hell after I am gone. But I will never again submit myself to a narcissistic, psychopathic religion who has to kill millions of innocent people, and shun and humiliate people who think in contrast, just to justify and preach the existence of their god and its scriptures. My argument does not end with this and I will not back down anymore in defending my faith.

The craft is my world, and nature is my home. I am a daughter of those who came before, of those who are truly enlightened, of those you can never ever kill. I am a witch, and you can never take that away from me again.

*** Sorry for the long post. Thanks for reading, if you did. I hope you had something to take from my story and may it help you with whatever is botheringvor troubling you right now.

May the journey of life be kind to us all. Blessed be! ❤

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trashytacosan · 7 years

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Title: I always got my (Ion) you

This is my gift to @the-trash-writer-blurbs for the @kurotsukiexchange I added the fluffy morning with domestic fluff, and Kuroo being a dork because why not? This is also my first time writing in the Canon timeline. I hope you enjoy <3

Rated: T

There were so many things that Tsukishima hated about mornings that the list seemed without end. He'd never been a morning person. Ever since he was a kid, he threw a mini-tantrum whenever his mother came into his room to wake him up or when his alarm clock went off. While he agreed that the world had a certain charm to it in the early strokes of daybreak, he'd figured he could go without witnessing it. Tsukishima didn't understand people who could get up at the crack of dawn, ready to tackle life within only a few minutes of being awake.

Meanwhile, it took him hours to feel awake. He'd go through his morning routine in a zombie-like state, silently cursing any and everyone for his current predicament. Anyone who attempted a conversation with him in the morning was in for a very rude awakening.

It got so bad that even his teachers knew not to bother him at least until noon. Tsukishima's hatred for mornings stuck with him until a very recent discovery.

The first time it happened had been a mistake; he didn't try to wake up five minutes before his alarm clock went off. Tsukishima had been pissed because nothing irks him more than waking up before his alarm clock goes off, but his anger quickly vanished at the sight of his sleeping boyfriend.

To this day, Tsukishima had no idea how it happened. How Kuroo Tetsurou went from the third-year who harassed him every night at training camp to the single most constant in his life. Things just kind of happened that way; not that he was complaining. After dating throughout Tsukishima's high school career, it only seemed right for them to get an apartment together once Tsukishima moved to Tokyo for university. Although their friends and family had their doubts, they did whatever the hell they wanted.

And thanks to that awesome decision, Tsukishima got a front row seat to the best show in town.

Kuroo was adorable while he slept. That wasn't really surprising, though. Everyone knew that Kuroo was handsome. He had the whole bad boy vibe going on because of his stature, his spiky hair, and sly grins. There was a time when Tsukishihma had even believed the rumors he'd heard about Kuroo. None of them had been good, either. But, as corny as it sounded, Tsukishima followed his heart.

Underneath that exterior, Kuroo had a kind, loving heart that shone through during vulnerable moments like these. From experience, Tsukishima knew that he only had a couple of minutes to admire his boyfriend before both of their alarms went off and ruined the moment. They had to get up an hour and a half early to commute to their university. Kuroo didn't even have a class for another hour, he just got up every morning to make the trip with Tsukishima. Although he'd tried to assure Kuroo that he could commute on his own, Kuroo wouldn't budge.

Tsukishima was secretly grateful, too. Having Kuroo by his side always started his day off right.

"Mornin' gorgeous," Kuroo murmured, eyes still closed, a ghost of a smile dancing on the corners of his mouth.

Shit, he'd been discovered. Tsukishima feigned annoyance; he had to keep up his hatred for mornings. Of course, Kuroo could see right through him. Kuroo's smile widened. He put his arm around Tsukishima's shoulders, pulling him against his chest.

"How'd you sleep?" Kuroo asked.

"I slept okay."

"Have any dreams?"

"Not this time."

"I had one. It was amazing."

"What was it about?"

Tsukishima listened to Kuroo talk about his dream that wasn't all that amazing but he listened intently anyway. Midway through Kuroo's story about being locked in a supermarket overnight, their alarm clocks blared to life. Tsukishima took the liberty of snoozing both alarms. He wasn't ready to get up and lose Kuroo's warmth.

Kuroo continued with his dream. "Then, Bo' airlifted us out and we went to the Bahamas together. Akaashi was there, too."

"The Bahamas?"

"Yeah," Kuroo chuckled, taking Tsukishima's hand into his own he kissed his knuckles.

Due to playing with an injury, Tsukishima's finger was slightly crooked. No one could notice it unless he pointed it out but it still bothered him. "Do you think you'll be in practice long today?" he asked.

Groaning, Kuroo shook his head from side to side. "I hope not. Last night was brutal." He stopped to peek out of one eye. "We'll be having try-outs again soon. It's not too late for you to join..."

"We've been through this before. You're going to go Pro and I'm going to sit in a dusty museum and clean bones." Well, that wasn't his exact career plans but it was how they playfully joked about it often. "Volleyball was great in high school but I'm over it."

"I know you miss it."

"Just because you miss something doesn't mean it's for you."

"You're right." Kuroo kissed Tsukishima on the shoulder. "Sorry, I just wanted to be like that couple that plays for Meiji."

"Oikawa and Iwaizumi have been attached at the hip since childhood. I don't even think they can wipe their own asses without one another being there."

Covering his mouth, Kuroo laughed. Tsukishima laughed as well. Once again, their alarm clocks go off. This time, they reluctantly get out of bed to start the morning routine that they've perfected. For obvious reasons, they couldn't take showers together in the morning. So, while Tsukishima showered, Kuroo searched his closet for something to wear since he never set his clothes out the night before like Tsukishima always did.

"Leave any hot water for me this time?" Kuroo asked making his way to the shower.

Tsukishima watched him undress. "I decided to be considerate this morning."

"How thoughtful of you."

"Don't take too long in there," Tsukishima said, "I want to get coffee before class."

"Why don't we have a coffee maker again?"

"Because a certain someone bought a waffle maker instead."

"They had it on sale!" Kuroo poked his head out of the shower, his neck covered in suds. "I got it 'cause you love waffles."

"We don't even use it."

Kuroo opened his mouth to protest and then immediately snapped it shut. He retreated back to the shower. Mentally, Tsukishima awarded himself one point for their ongoing competition of being right. While Kuroo was in the shower, Tsukishima refreshed himself and got dressed. By the time he was dressed, Kuroo was stepping out of the shower. Although they stayed in bed a little longer, they were ahead of schedule. Yesterday had been a nightmare. They'd made the mistake of showering together.

Neither of them could keep their hands to themselves. One thing led to another and they ended up missing their first lectures; Kuroo also missed morning practice. So, they decided to just resist the urge from now on. There was no telling how long that would last. They were still in the sex-crazed phase in their relationship. Prior to moving in together, they'd been long distance, only see one another twice a month, if that. It made sense for them to be all over each other now.

"Got your key?"

Tsukishima patted his pocket. "Yeah. Did you remember to pack your knee pads this time?"

Kuroo cursed. "Let me go grab those!" He jogged to the bedroom.

Once they were all set they left the apartment together. The bus stop was across the street from their complex so there was no need to rush. While they waited for the bus, Kuroo took out his textbook to do his readings that were meant for last night. Tsukishima was a freshman meaning he was far more serious about his studies than Kuroo was. He did all of his assignments on time. Sometimes he even turned them in earlier. Kuroo was the total opposite. He did everything the last minute but somehow managed to make good grades.

"It's called being a genius," Kuroo said smugly, "Some people are just born with it, babe. Don't worry."

"My IQ is higher than yours."

"That test was rigged! Bo' scored higher than Akaashi."

"Are you calling your friend an idiot."

"Of course not!"

Tsukishima smirked. "Shame on you, Kuroo."

Kuroo gave Tsukishima a look. "I was meaning to ask you about that." He held his spot in the textbook with his thumb. Looking over to his boyfriend, "When are you going to start calling me Tetsurou?"

"When will you start calling me Kei?"

"I've called you that before."

"Yeah, when you're about to come."

"That's not true."

"When else have you said it?"

"You really don't remember?"

Tsukishima saw the bus approaching. Standing to his feet he shrugged his shoulders. "You always call me Tsukki or babe. You only call me Kei during sex."

Kuroo stood up as well. "I called you Kei when I first said I love you." He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Kinda fucked up that you don't remember..."

"Sorry if I was too caught up in the moment to notice."

"I forgive you." Kuroo smiled. "Kei."

"Bite me, Kuroo."

Kuroo frowned. They got on the bus and took their usual seat in the back. Since they were one of the first stops they always got the best seat. Tsukishima faced the window, thinking that the whole "say my name" conversation was over but Kuroo had no intentions of letting it go that easily.

"Did you finish that paper you were worried about, Kei?"

"Yeah."

"How'd you think you did, Kei?"

Tsukishima frowned. "I think I did well."

Kuroo smiled. "That's great, Kei." He kissed his boyfriend on the cheek. "You're so smart, Kei."

Taking his headphones out of his book sack, Tsukishima gave his boyfriend a pointed look. "You're an asshole," he said, turning his music up on full blast.

Somehow he could still hear the sound of Kuroo laughing.

At the train station, Tsukishima figured it was time to stop ignoring his boyfriend. He took his headphones off and things were back to normal for the most part. Then, Kuroo started using his given name after every single statement. Tsukishima knew what Kuroo was up to. He refused to fall into the man's trap. He didn't have anything against using Kuroo's given name. Well, a part of him did. Wasn't it too soon for that?

Yeah, they were living together, had sex on the regular, and acted like an old married couple. But that was the thing; they weren't married. Tsukishima knew that he was just being weird. He was in one of his moods. The main reason why he refused to call Kuroo Tetsurou because he knew how much the man wanted him to. That was all it was.

Tsukishima was petty.

"I hear it's supposed to rain today, Kei," Kuroo said, they were stepping inside the cafe near their university.

"I brought my umbrella. Did you?"

"No, Kei. I guess I'll just have to hope for the best, Kei. A little rain won't hurt, Kei."

How in the hell did he manage to fall in love with someone this annoying? Tsukishima decided that it'd be easier if he didn't say anything at all. If he ignored Kuroo, he would stop, right? Hell no. Tsukishima should have known better. This was Kuroo Tetsurou he was talking about. They left the coffee shop and headed to campus. During the entire walk, Kuroo talked about random things. He addressed Tsukishima at the end of every sentence; it was a nightmare. But it got worst when Kuroo started making cheesy Chemistry jokes.

"What do you do with a sick chemist, Kei?"

Tsukishima took a sip of his coffee.

"If you can't helium, and you can't curium, then you might as well barium, Kei."

Tsukishima checked his phone.

"What do you call a clown who's in jail, Kei?" He smiled. "A silicon, Kei? You call him a silicon, Kei? Get it, Kei? A silicon, Kei?"

"Oh my fucking god!" Tsukishima finally reached his breaking point. "Shut the fuck up, Tetsurou!" he shouted loudly. "It's too early for this shit!"

Kuroo grinned. "You called me Tetsurou," he sing-songed, leaning in for a kiss.

Tsukishima swatted him away. "You're immature."

"You love me, though, Kei."

As much as he hated to admit it... "Unfortunately, I do, Tetsurou."

#KuroTsuki #kuroo tetsurou #tsukishima kei #gift exchange #chemistry jokes #bad chemistry jokes lol #domestic fluff #morning fluff #canon compliant #university au

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amplesalty · 4 years

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Christmas 2019: Day 5 - A Christmas Story Live! (2017)

On the fifth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me...

Five golden (chocolate) coins!

Look, I know it doesn’t fit but the closest I could get to rings would involve being massively racist so...

There’s just something about this year and musicals apparently. Maybe that’s a good thing though, I mean, I have been listening to the soundtrack of Anna and the Apocalypse pretty much on repeat since I watched it. Whilst we’re on the subject, let me just say I didn’t show nearly enough (or any really) appreciation for ‘Give Them a Show’ during the Anna/Mr Savage showdown. It’s arguably Anna’s best vocal performance in the movie, has a campiness in Savage’s performance to match the on screen performance that’s playing out during the song and evokes this feeling of a grand crescendo, not just to the movie but perhaps even to life itself. The lyrical material is perhaps a little lacking, bettered in tracks like Break Away and suffers from repetition but as a total package, I just love the song.

But even the zombies in Anna couldn’t match the horror that this special has...

Matthew Broderick. There’s just something really annoying about him, maybe it’s his voice or his face...I can’t quite put my finger on it but God I want to punch him.

This is an adaption of a musical which was an adaptation of the original movie so of course Broderick is in familiar territory here. He serves as the narrator who actually has a physical presence here, mooching around in the background of most scenes. He’ll even step in along the way to hold doors, take pots and pans, that kinda thing.

I wonder if the other characters noticed his footsteps in the soot left by the Old Man’s battle with the furnace? I’m not sure either if his stumbling over his lines amongst the sound of the Old Man’s cursing is intentional or a flub but if it’s the latter, it lends some charm to the occasion. There’s a moment later on as well when the Old Man is trying to sneak some turkey and Mr’s Parker has a bit of a spoonerism that causes her and her co-star to crack up.

The production in general took a little bit of getting used to early on, this one camera approach sweeping through the Parker house, almost had me a little a little motion sick? I don’t know what you’d call it, I think people get that sometimes from TV or games. It’s good otherwise though, all these costume and set changes. There’s one moment where they spin the camera around from this fantasy game show sequence and move back to the Parker house, only to keep the camera spinning round so we get a full shot of the room and the game show set is no longer there. They have to deal with losing the light on the exterior shots and the story is paced so a lot of the night scenes are taking place later on so it’s not really a factor, like going out to dinner or to the Christmas tree lot. It gets a little strange to see the street lights still on on what is meant to be Christmas morning but otherwise it wasn’t really noticeable.

The aforementioned game show scene is one of the Old Man’s flights of fancy in which he imagines himself winning the show thanks to his amazing general knowledge that is going to help him win the crossword puzzle contest and that $50,000 grand prize. Of course, we all know that’s not exactly what he gets. This whole Broadway production feel really lends itself to those fantasy sequences which were obviously so prevalent in the original movie. There’s others like the Parker house turning into some sort of nightmarish horror movie after Ralphie drops the F bomb (not fudge) or Miss Shields being the star of some sort of nightclub filled with pinstripe wearing gangster kids like Bugsy Malone or The Bluetones ‘After Hours’.

The best though is the Old Man imagining his receipt of the major award being a lavish, red carpeted awards ceremony with it’s own little leg lamp statuette prizes and a stage surrounded by inverted leg lamps forming the set.

He’s even joined by a cabaret troupe decked out in lampshades for dresses!

Some of these musical numbers though, boy do they drag on. Some will last a while and then break off for a dance sequence before going back to the song, which will then transition into another song like it’s a medley and then the original song is brought back again. Songs like ‘It All Comes Down to Christmas’ and ‘Red Ryder Carbine Action BB Gun’ are reprised numerous times throughout the whole show. It feels like it’s hard to tell sometimes where one song ends and another begins. It’s hard as well to appreciate some of the songs as there’s no time for things to just settle and appreciate because they’ll just move right into the next song straight away. Talk about songs dragging on, really the whole thing drags on, 2 hrs 11 minutes but if you were watching it live with commercials then it went a whole 3 hours.

Including a whole live broadcast of a song and dance number from The Greatest Showman which whoever captured this broadcast chose to keep in. Seems like an odd choice to advertise a much better musical during your own but whatever. I say that based on general critical reception, I haven’t seen Greatest Showman but I probably should at some point if I’m on a musical kick. A lot of that soundtrack did seep out into general culture and some of those I really enjoy like ‘This is Me’ and ‘Rewrite the Stars’. Oddly though, I think I prefer Anne-Marie’s vocals from that Reimagined album over Zendaya’s. Put Anne-Marie’s vocals with Zac Efron’s and that’s my ideal version.

There’s a few interesting choices throughout that the troll in me wants to paint as some sort of pro SJW agenda. Mr’s Parker has a quick line at the start whilst she’s trying to get the boys ready to go Higbee’s Christmas display. Ralphie says he’s too busy reading Boy’s World, to which Randy asks his mother if there’s a girl’s world. She replies that there isn’t and we have to put up with boy’s world.

Then there’s Flick suddenly being recast with a black actor and a whole song dedicated to the act of being Jewish, led by the previously unseen Mrs Schwartz. At least she’s not just a disconnected series of screams on the other end of a telephone this time, give it a few more remakes and we might even see Schwartz’s old man.

At least they redeem the waiters at the Chinese waiters by not making them into caricatures this time with their ‘fahrahrahrahrahrah’ singing. Ken Jeong’s character wears many hats in this town though, he sells cars, Christmas trees and he operates a restaurant. Lousy immigrants, coming over here and taking our jobs. Not just one job either, he took three of them! What does he think this is, the land of opportunity?

The original Christmas Story is something that I probably only saw for the first time at some point in the last 10 years or so and to be honest, I kinda got a little burnt out rewatching it year after year following that. I can’t remember when I last saw it and, at first, I thought this might add to that. It can feel a little rushed at times, possibly that’s because it’s live and there’s a bit nerves amongst the actors. For all the singing that Ralphie does, he’s unfortunately not that great at it. It just comes across as shouting and is a bit obnoxious. The kids as an ensemble though do provide some of the better songs in the movie like ‘When You’re a Wimp’ and ‘Somewhere Hovering Over Indiana’. Plus there’s something amusing about Flick trying to join in all the singing in ‘Sticky Situation’ whilst his tongue is stuck to the flag pole. The Old Man’s songs are good to but on the whole it’s a fairly mixed bag. Just the sheer number of them, they don’t really sink in so I’m not sure if I’ll be binging on this soundtrack in the coming days.

I was a little sceptical at first but I think this grew on me as it played out. If they’d trimmed it down a bit I would have liked it more but for the first hour or so I was experiencing time dilation not felt since that dreadful animated Mariah Carey special last Christmas. Apparently a lot of people didn’t like this because of the way it took this simple, family story and made it into this grand, theatrical show but I kinda like it because of it. If you’re going to re-do something then do something different with it, why not make it this big, over the top affair with dancing lampshades?!

#Christmas 2019 #A Christmas Story #A Christmas Story Live!

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