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rcbf4 · 8 hours

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— BASICS.

▸ IS YOUR MUSE TALL / SHORT / AVERAGE ? : Tall- Average @ 5’11’

▸ ARE THEY OKAY WITH THEIR HEIGHT ? : Yes. He doesn’t think about it until he’s around someone(s) much taller than him.

▸ WHAT’S THEIR HAIR LIKE ? : Normally, short. Adam has mainly been rocking the same hairstyle since he was a little boy getting his hair clippered by his mom.

▸ DO THEY SPEND A LOT OF TIME ON THEIR HAIR / GROOMING ? : No. He doesn’t have the time, attention or want to deal with long hair. Adam bounces between different styles of short hair ranging from clippered all over, high and tight skin and straight up bald. (He sports a bald head mostly because a lot of guys were doing it in the Police Academy and it just made sense to follow along.) When he began wearing his head shaved, Adam began shaving the rest of his body because it, again, made sense to do so. He did it for a while until he became lazy and just let everything grow back except the hair on his chest. He still shaves that. There have been a few times he wore his hair in a longer fashion than usual, but it never lasts long cause he doesn't want to style it.

▸ DOES YOUR MUSE CARE ABOUT THEIR APPEARANCE / WHAT OTHERS THINK ? : Adam doesn’t care about what he looks like. He was partly ostracized for how ‘weird’ he looked by his peers when he was younger and Adam knows there’s no way to improve what can't be changed, so he lets himself be.

But as he personally doesn’t care, he kinda does cares what other people think. He’s sensitive to that. If he’s told “hey, you look good in blue” then he’ll take that into consideration and if he ever happens to be in the shopping mood, he might pick up a blue shirt.

— PREFERENCES.

INDOORS OR OUTDOORS ? ▸ Outdoors

RAIN OR SUNSHINE ? ▸ Sunshine

FOREST OR BEACH ? ▸ Forest

PRECIOUS METALS OR GEMS ? ▸ Neither

FLOWERS OR PERFUMES ? ▸ Flowers

PERSONALITY OR APPEARANCE ? ▸ Personality

BEING ALONE OR BEING IN A CROWD ? ▸ Being alone

ORDER OR ANARCHY ? ▸ Order

PAINFUL TRUTHS OR WHITE LIES ? ▸ White lies

SCIENCE OR MAGIC ? ▸ Magic…. ?

PEACE OR CONFLICT ? ▸ PEACE

NIGHT OR DAY ? ▸ Day

DUSK OR DAWN ? ▸ Dusk

WARMTH OR COLD ? ▸ Well, constant hot LA days makes him miss Midwest winters, but he doesn’t entirely mind LA weather, he sees the appeal; he's adaptable and can enjoy both.

MANY ACQUAINTANCES OR A FEW CLOSE FRIENDS ? ▸ A few close friends

READING OR PLAYING A GAME ? Reading

— QUESTIONNAIRE.

▸ WHAT ARE SOME OF YOUR MUSE’S BAD HABITS ? :

He often forgets to lock his front door, which stems from his childhood. He was that kid who was so caught up in his own world that he’d dash out the house and leave the front door wide open or simply forget to lock up after himself. As an adult, he’s woken up on the couch to a stranger who had drunkenly mistook his place for their own. It’s happened a few times. Once he was sure it was an addict looking for their dealer. Being startled awake with a stranger in his home is an absolutely jarring and scary experience and one would think he learns from it the first time, but alas, he doesn’t.

Adam has a hard time communicating with people he deems close to him. He believes communication will meltdown into an argument and he doesn’t want to fight with anyone so it’s extremely hard for him to say his peace on things.

Adam also has a bad habit of generally being very unsafe when he decides to have a party night. Party nights he usually leaves his phone at home just to make sure he doesn’t accidentally lose it while he’s bar hopping or whatever he gets up to. If he goes out with colleagues, guaranteed he disappears sometime during the night and no one knows where he is because Adam doesn’t have his phone on him so they cannot get a hold of him. During party nights it’s more than likely that Adam will get black out drunk or pretty close to it. Having lost or forgotten where he parked his car, he’s woken up in alleys, behind dumpsters and at someone’s house he has no recollection of meeting. It’s amazing he’s lived so long

▸ HAS YOUR MUSE LOST ANYONE CLOSE TO THEM ? HOW HAS IT AFFECTED THEM ? :

Yes. Adam had lost his mother during the hardest time of his life. Annie was what kept him tethered to the rest of the family and when she passed the reality that he had no one sunk in deep and it sent him spiraling. In his quiet, personal life, Adam was acting out by being more reckless than usual and it spilled over into his work life, which ended up in several hospital trips.

▸ WHAT ARE SOME FOND MEMORIES YOUR MUSE HAS ? :

Oddly enough, for someone who aches from being alone, some of his fondest memories are from when he was alone. Memories of being a boy undisturbed in his hobbies of frog hunting in the woods or setting off fireworks in the backyard or riding his bike all over town to eventually stop in his favorite thrift store to see what kind of treasures he could find. Adam might be extremely lonely when around other people, but he never realizes how un-alone he is when left to himself.

▸ IS IT EASY FOR YOUR MUSE TO KILL ? :

Yes and No. As one might consider in a ‘normal’ setting, Adam couldn’t kill, he doesn’t have the heart for it but he’s a cop. He’s trained to kill and if that time comes, he has a quiet arm and an unwavering trigger finger. He could do it.

▸ WHAT’S IT LIKE WHEN YOUR MUSE BREAKS DOWN ? :

Ugly. When Adam’s carefully crafted mask becomes split at the seams, anger, rage, sorrow and guilt can be found bubbling at the surface in a terrifying display of red eyes, shouting, words meant to self harm, broken furniture and a man on the edge with nothing to live for.

▸ IS YOUR MUSE CAPABLE OF TRUSTING SOMEONE WITH THEIR LIFE ? :

Absolutely. In his line of work you have to have the ability to trust your partner in having your back and trust that they’re looking out for you just like you are them. Plus he’s highly romanticized that part of the job. It’s like having a designated friend.

▸ WHAT’S YOUR MUSE LIKE WHEN THEY’RE IN LOVE ? :

Active. Adam bounces between being very shy and unsure about being in love (because there’s that little voice in the back of his head that tells him things won’t last and the other person might not be entirely serious) to wanting to shout from the mountain tops and share with everyone the good news that he’s in love. Adam wants to hold hands and he wants to do things with his lover that he hasn’t experienced doing with someone. Like going to a baseball game, having dinner and a movie date, riding rides together at the local carnival, attending a musical, and going shopping together. He wants the exciting and the mundane little things. He’s hungry for it all because he’s never known what it is like.

#chara ' headcanon #adam ' inspo

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galaxywhump · 4 years

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Silence Is Golden

Trope: Mouth Stitched Shut Fandom: Original Work

[Masterlist]

[blue for requested, red for completed]

Timeline: set after Scars + Collared

cw: stitching mouth shut (graphic, no anesthesia), needles, blood, slavery, creepy/intimate whumper, drugging, paralyzation, noncon/dubcon touching and kissing, briefly referenced noncon, brainwashing, hopelessness, swearing, referenced branding, whipping and broken bones/hand injury.

taglist: @faewhump @inky-whump @garbagewhump @whole-and-apart-and-between @slaintetowhump @moose-teeth @whatwasmyprevioususername @procrastinatingsab @insanitywishes @special-spicy-chicken @redstainedsocks @luminouswhump @untilthepainstarts @lonesome--hunter @spookyboywhump @ohmywhump @renkocchi @whump-only

~~~

The muzzle is broken - the clasp won’t stay closed, and Daniel’s tampering achieves nothing.

“Piece of shit”, he mutters, tossing it to the floor and turning on his communicator. “Hope someone can drop by with a new one soon.”

Wren shivers, his initial relief at the prospect of being free from the muzzle for some time now dimmed by that of Berkeley visiting again.

“Any color preferences, sweetheart?”, Daniel asks like it’s the most natural question in the world.

“You know what?”, Wren says, raising one eyebrow with a smirk. “I do. Hot pink. The most obnoxious hot pink in existence.”

Daniel laughs, shooting him a brief amused glance.

“I think I’ll stick to black.”

“Then why’d you ask me?”

“Because I knew you’d say something hilarious like that.”

Wren puhs indignantly. With a crook of a finger, not even looking at him, Daniel urges him to come closer, and he obeys, crawling across the couch until he’s sitting right next to him. He fixes his gaze on the floor as he rests his head on Daniel’s shoulder, doing his best to relax despite the tension that makes his body twitch. The tension only increases when Daniel turns his head to the side to press a brief kiss to Wren’s hair; he grits his teeth until his jaw hurts.

He used to be torn between acting obedient and lashing out; now the dilemma has moved to another dimension entirely, leaving him suspended between fighting back until he’s pinned to the wall, and actively participating in Daniel’s understanding of a relationship. Sometimes the latter seems better. Less exhausting.

Daniel knows he’s pretending, but doesn’t seem to mind; he doesn’t seem bothered by Wren’s disbelief for his theory of destiny.

We have all the time in the universe, sweetheart.

All the time in the universe to brainwash him until he starts to believe he’s in love with Daniel Rooney.

Fucking gross.

Fucking terrifying.

“Such a shame”, Daniel sighs, turning his communicator off and wrapping his arm around Wren. “I really felt like seeing you muzzled today.”

“Isn’t that a fucking tragedy”, Wren hisses, shifting in the embrace, Daniel’s touch like sandpaper against his skin.

“But it’s okay, you know I’m patient.”

Wren swallows and closes his eyes when Daniel’s warm breath curls against his hair; he lifts his head and tilts is to the side. Their lips meet and Wren doesn’t resist when he’s pulled in closer, guided gently until he’s sitting in Daniel’s lap, facing him.

Gross, gross, gross, fucking creep.

He deepens the kiss. He can do that, he can kiss, imagining he’s somewhere else, back on Earth, in the arms of someone as drunk as him, someone he can just forget the next day save for the closeness of their lips, their body, the pleasant touch.

Daniel’s fingers work their way into Wren’s hair, long again. Daniel likes it more that way, but that doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter what he likes; what matters is that Wren feels a bit better with his usual messy hairstyle.

It makes him feel more like himself, and he desperately holds on to this meager piece of what he used to be like.

“You’re so beautiful”, Daniel whispers, breaking the kiss and moving one hand to brush his knuckles over Wren’s face; he leans into the touch with a forced smile, not saying a word. He doesn’t have to. “I love you.”

No you don’t, asshole.

Daniel’s eyes narrow and he tilts his head to the side, gazing at Wren’s face, visibly lost in thought. Wren frowns, his heart skipping a bit as he recognizes the spark in Daniel’s eyes, the spark of a new idea, a new way to make his life hell.

“What?”, he mutters, and with a pang of disgust leans in closer again, hoping to distract Daniel from whatever it is he has thought of. He knows Daniel has already set his mind on his idea - the kiss is brief and he’s gently pushed away.

“I think I know how to replace the muzzle today”, he says, brushing Wren’s hair away from his face, his gestures and tone a jarring contrast to the implications that make Wren freeze in horror. Daniel takes his hand, pushing at his chest to get him to get up before guiding him to sit down on the couch again. “Wait here for a moment, sweetheart.”

“Wait, maybe- maybe it won’t be needed?”, Wren suggests with a nervous smile, reaching to grab Daniel’s hands, but he just chuckles and shakes his hand off, giving him one more quick kiss on the forehead before leaving the room, heading upstairs, leaving Wren alone with his racing thoughts.

He stays put on the couch, folding his hands together in his lap and cracking his knuckles anxiously, frozen in place. He has no choice but to wait, no choice but to face whatever Daniel has in mind for him this time.

Something to replace the muzzle - so a gag, most logically. Daniel keeps a couple different ones in a drawer upstairs - Wren shudders, remembering getting acquainted with each one of them - so he might have simply gone to retrieve one that hasn’t been used before.

But he wouldn’t be making such a big deal out of that, would he?

He hears cheerful whistling and creaking of the stairs; his head jerks up at the sound, and his heartbeat picks up the pace when Daniel enters the room.

Empty-handed.

Daniel approaches Wren and crouches down, resting his hands on Wren’s knees and looking up into his eyes with an overwhelmingly open expression.

“I have something for you, but you’ll have to promise you won’t panic.”

Already off to a terrifying start.

“I’m already panicking, asshole”, he croaks, shaking, and Daniel reaches for his hand, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles.

“Just try not to panic. Can you do it for me?”

He glares, and Daniel sighs, reaching into his pocket.

“We’ll try something new today, but I’ll need you to cooperate.”

With that, he takes something out, and a wave of icy horror washes over Wren.

He has never considered a nightmare like that - but now that he sees the curved surgical needle and heavy black thread, somehow he knows exactly what they’re going to be used for.

“N-no”, he chokes out, scuttling to the edge of the couch, a sad excuse for escaping.

“Calm down for me, sweetheart, alright?”, Daniel says, his voice low and soothing as he stands in front of Wren again, firmly grabbing him by the shoulders.

“No, no”, Wren repeats, shaking his head, staring up at him with wide eyes, his breath catching in his throat as he throws a glance at the thread and needle again, phantom pain already prickling under his skin. “You’re insane, this is insane, you can’t- I- I’ll be quiet”, he changes the approach, anything to avoid being silenced like this. “I won’t say a word, or- or you can gag me, right?”

“Shh, sweetheart.”

He sobs, frantically looking around.

“Surely you have something to gag me with, right? I can find something myself, just please, please don’t do this-”

He tries to get up, but Daniel pushes down on his shoulder to keep him in place; he’s breathing hard, but the air doesn’t seem to enter his lungs, doesn’t even seem to be involved in the process, there’s just desperate wheezing, panic, dark spots before his eyes.

“Hey, hey, calm down, Wren, just calm down. I have something here that can help you, alright?” Daniel sounds worried, genuinely worried, as if Wren’s panic was irrational, as if it wasn’t caused by the nightmare he has come up with. He reaches to his pocket again and takes something out, a clear capsule.

“N-no, I won’t let you, you-”, Wren mumbles desperately, but there is nothing he can do to stop Daniel as he seizes his chin.

The capsule is forced between his lips and dissolves in an instant.

The drug does calm him down, his breathing slowing down, his vision clearing up again, the fear having no physical reflection anymore; but it’s not its only effect, as his entire body feels heavy and his movements as he tries to struggle become sluggish, slow. He sobs, shaking his head - a barely noticeable movement.

“That’s better”, Daniel whispers, taking hold of his hands and giving them a reassuring squeeze. “It’ll be okay, It might hurt a bit, but I won’t put you through more pain than necessary, I promise.”

“Nuh-hm”, Wren whines and sobs harder when Daniel lets go of his hands to thread the needle.

“You just need to trust me, sweetheart. I promise I’ll remove the stitches in a few hours.”

He’s answered with more choked sobbing, and he flashes Wren a warm smile, smoothing out the thread in his fingers. He then pulls one of the chairs closer to sit down in front of Wren, and grabs his chin, lifting his head up a bit.

“Nuh-no-” He wants to beg, to bargain, but he can’t speak up, helpless as the needle is positioned above one corner of his mouth, ice-cold. He closes his eyes, readying himself for pain he knows he can never be truly ready for.

“I’ll start now, okay?”

It’s like electricity spreading through his body, erasing the memories of branding, of whipping, of having his fingers broken one by one; it all pales in comparison with the searing pain when the needle pierces his skin and flesh all the way through until there’s an unpleasant, chilling sensation of it emerging in his mouth, then being brought around and under his lower lip, Daniel’s hands steady as he works.

“See? Just like that. I know what I’m doing, don’t worry.”

The feeling of the thread slipping through his skin makes him sick to his stomach, and there’s more sharp pain which turns to burning with another stitch. Daniel strokes his chin with his thumb in a soothing motion, and doesn’t stop his work for a second - a small mercy in his eyes, getting over with the sewing as fast as possible while remaining cautious not to mess it up.

To him, it’s love.

“It’s a shame I won’t be able to kiss you for a while”, Daniel laughs softly. “But it will be worth it.”

He stops for just a moment when a violent sob makes Wren shake.

“Shh, shh. Stay still.”

There’s three stitches now, pulling at his skin and sending radiating pain to his entire face; he opens his eyes, a wave of dizziness washing over him as he sees the needle, slick with blood, in Daniel’s hand, the thread taut, leading to his face, his mouth, slowly turning him into a grotesque piece of embroidery.

“Eyes on me, sweetheart, it’ll be easier.”

Like he’s stitching a wound, like he’s a medic rather than torturer; his words make Wren’s stomach turn, but he follows his suggestion - order, it’s always an order - and looks into Daniel’s eyes, sober and focused. He can’t help but whine when the needle returns for another stitch, but he stays still.

Tears of pure pain trickle down his face, his vision clouded, and Daniel keeps going, humming to himself to break the suffocating silence which, along with the dimmed lights and the chilling absurdity of the situation, makes Wren feels like he’s in a horror movie.

Alone with his captor in a house straight from the past, listening to his soft humming as the needle pierces his skin again, and again, and again, until it reaches the other corner of his mouth and is plunged in for the final stitch.

“There we go.” Daniel secures the thread, making sure it’s not too loose and will stay in place just like he left it. “It might swell a little, but shouldn’t scar.”

Somehow, Wren manages to glare at him. Daniel sighs, his usual exasperated but amused sigh of having to put up with Wren’s minuscule acts of defiance, and leans in closer to kiss his tear-stained cheek.

“I knew you’d look beautiful like this”, he purrs. “And I don’t mean to brag, but I’ve done a pretty awesome job.” He grins, and Wren grits his teeth, only half focused on his words, fixated on the pulling of the stitches, the way his lips twitch in pain.

Daniel sits down next to him and Wren finds himself being pulled closer until he’s lying down with his head in Daniel’s lap, looking up at him, occasional tears rolling down his temples. He still tries to scowl, and Daniel chuckles softly, his fingers ghosting over Wren’s face, one fingernail hooking under the stitches and giving the lightest of pulls that makes Wren tense up and whimper at the sensation.

“I love you, you know?”, Daniel whispers with a soft smile, letting go; Wren shudders, a wave of nausea washing over him when the stitches shift again.

No, you don’t.

“You’re just…” Daniel traces his finger over Wren’s temple, cheekbone, jawline, his gaze warm, yet encasing Wren’s heart in ice. “You’re so perfect.”

He closes his eyes, more tears escaping from under his eyelids.

He doesn’t want to be perfect for Daniel, he doesn’t want to be loved by him, he doesn’t want to be his lover, he doesn’t want, he doesn’t want, he doesn’t.

“I love you.”

You don’t.

“I know you’re still trying to deny it, Wren, but I do.”

You don’t. You don’t.

Daniel leans in and kisses Wren on the forehead; it’s delicate, lingering, so different from the desperate, drunken kisses from strangers.

He used to dream of being kissed like this.

He used to dream of those three words.

“I love you.”

You don’t.

“And one day”, Daniel whispers in a dreamy manner of a lover planning a future together, “you will love me too. And then it will all be so much easier for you.”

Wren trembles with a choked sob, enough for the stitches to rekindle the embers of pain.

“Just give it time, sweetheart, and then we’ll be happy. You’ll be happy here, I promise. I love you.”

You don’t, Wren repeats his internal mantra just to silence the screaming awareness that one day, when he loses his desperate fight to hold on to himself, Daniel’s promise will be fulfilled.

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rankdisasster · 5 years

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sixteen

Billy Hargrove x fem reader

“A fic where you and billy are exes, you've not seen him for a while bc you go to different schools. Billy sees you with a guy all over each other in town and goes to a party that night to blow off steam but you're there with your new bf. You and the boyfriend break up at the party because he was being a dick. You go off with billy and spend the night with him” requested by anonymous.

word count: 4,147

warning(s): swearing

a/n: was gonna split this into two chapters bc of how long it is, but I figured why not. this turned out lighter and funnier than I originally thought. oh and I made the reader and Billy nineteen going on twenty. love the idea anon, thank you! tell me in my asks if you guys like longer fics cause I can stretch all mine out. I personally love long ones. let me know! also left the reader’s asshole bf nameless on purpose, you can put in any douchey name you want.

—

If anybody were to tell Billy what he would’ve seen when he went on an innocent trip to the supermarket to pick up his favorite frozen burritos, he would’ve ditched the frozen food and just order in a pizza for himself instead. Nothing could’ve prepared him for the shock, then the disappointment, and not to mention the utter fucking disgust of seeing you play Happy Housewife picking up groceries with a boy holding onto you by your hip. You were laughing with the tall handsome stranger, pointing at the sprinkled donuts as if there was something hilarious or entertaining about them.

Billy had originally been strolling through the aisles at ease, happy to get out of the house and go do something besides work, class, or going to the gym. Becoming a young adult for Billy meant chores like grocery shopping, and attending community college as a fresh start, also working at the car place down the street from town. He’d been doing good for a change, and it was a different feeling for him. Usually something (or in this case someone) would have him kicking and screaming his way back to his old self. Back when he was never anything but angry, sat around and blamed the world and refused to properly deal with his feelings, or think over his actions. However, college started and he met new people, strived to better himself not just physically but mentally. He even ditched his regular tough guy workout diet, replacing the protein shakes once in awhile and grabbing a case of colorful mouth-watering mini cupcakes for himself instead. He was hoping to treat himself because he deserved it, but this is what the world would rather graciously gift him: his ex girlfriend pawing at some douchey delinquent right in front of his face.

Billy reacted quick, almost embarrassingly quick, hiding himself behind the nearest corner with his back to the wall, his treats still sitting in the grocery basket as he cautiously peeked around to see if you were coming closer in his direction. Seeing as though you weren’t there anymore, he thanked his lucky stars and at last minute grabbed a bucket of vanilla ice cream from the nearest freezer section, because he fucking can, thank you very much. That’s what seeing “the one that got away” sucking face with somebody else at the store had done to the poor boy. The blonde anxiously tiptoed around the perimeter of the store, looking for your hair or that guy’s ugly face. After his target seemed to have vanished in thin air, thankfully, Billy sighed in deep relief and ran a hand over his suddenly warm face, coming down from the mini panic attack that you just unknowingly put him through. He thought you’d ditch Hawkins like you always said you would, find a better home to break more boys’ hearts and get a degree somewhere fancy. But then again, Billy remembers that there’s a lot of things you said you would do and ended up not doing.

“Hi, thank you for shopping with us. Would this be all for you today?” The kind middle aged woman behind the cash register asked. Billy scratched his head before forgetting if Max asked for anything or not, then decided whatever munchies she wanted could wait for next time. But first Billy needed to find another fucking store to shop at now, feeling like this place made Hell look like a playground with you and lover boy waltzing around, having a jolly time.

“Um, d’you think we could get this over with? ‘M kinda in a hurry here,” Billy laughs out of his anxiety, seeing the cashier woman take her time ringing him up. He squeamishly reached into his back pocket for his wallet and pulled out a few bucks then handed them over. She took the bills and slided them into the register one by one after scanning all of his items.

“Of course, sir. Would you like your receipt in the bag, or —?” Billy nodded his head and rushed to grab his bagged goodies before his name got called by a voice he never wanted to hear again.

“Billy?”

Holy mother of God.

Billy slowly turned around as if he were a kid getting caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and there you were. He didn’t want to make it obvious that he was checking you out, seeing if you’ve changed a lot or just a little since three and a half years ago. And you did. You matured quite a bit, got a new hairstyle that suits you, and you have a cute outfit on with your usual style that hasn’t changed drastically since you were sixteen. Billy remembers all your adorable band tees you’d wear, and he also remembers yanking them off of you when he took you to his room. But he probably shouldn’t think about that right now, not with you and your new boyfriend right in front of him.

“Uh... hey,” he breathes out, clearing his throat and straightening out his jacket, even smoothing out his hair like an idiot as if it wasn’t too late to already. As if he still cared what you think of him and his appearance. You raised your brows at him and grinned like it was fucking amusing to see him get so worked up and uncomfortable, still a bitch, then grabbed a hold of the man’s coat and gave it a tug to signal him for his attention. The tall, dark handsome man looks over at Billy as you greet him.

“Hey there, stranger. It’s been a few,” you greet him as if he were an old colleague or some bullshit, not at all like an ex who’s heart you smashed to pieces. It’s unsettling to Billy, and he knows something is up, like you’re not completely being real, not acting like yourself. Even if it’s been a few years, there’s no way in hell you could have tossed your whole personality out the window. “Babe, this is Billy. He’s an old family friend of mine,” you introduce the two boys and they shake hands, your boyfriend’s grip much tighter and Billy’s more hesitant. What the fuck is happening?

“What’re you up to these days?” You inquire, probably faking interest in how he turned out after high school. Billy knows he doesn’t have it in him to stand another second of this conversation, and when shit hits the fan, he bolts.

“You know, sorry but I really gotta go. This was great, uh. Nice seeing you Y/N, and nice meeting you Amigo, ” he snatches his groceries before all but running out of the store, nearly knocking his head into the automatic opening door on the way out, recovering quickly. Leaving your boyfriend confused and you feeling somewhat lonely, suddenly wishing to be sixteen and by his side again.

—

“Family friend? What the fuck was that!” Billy punched the steering wheel before he strapped on his seatbelt and threw his comfort food in the backseat. He can’t believe you, that you’d call him a family friend after all you two had been through. You were the first girl he ever actually found himself liking, and after you transferred to another school and dropped him like trash, you had since been the last girl he ever trusted, too. It was early 1983 when Billy was finally getting the attention from girls he wanted and having the time of his life in his second year of high school. You came around and made the first move asking him out, even calling the shots on what to do when you first started messing around, like the drunk on sex and hormones teenagers you were. You stood out amongst the other girls, he noticed it immediately and thought it would be fun to have a partner he could try out all the stuff he’d wanted to do. Practice was what he had called it, for when the time comes that his performance in bed actually mattered, since he was just a kid that went no further than second base before in his short life.

Things took a turn, and looking back now Billy should’ve seen it coming. Catching feelings and spending an awful lot of time together made him weak, made him more vulnerable than he’d ever been before. You fell for him too, or maybe you just said that to appease him, Billy doesn’t know anymore and gets a headache when he tries putting the puzzle together. Always missing what the point of it all was. Meeting him, smiling at him and making the boy feel special, feel like a real man even at the tender age of sixteen. Teaching him how to fuck, how to make love, how to give head that could make a girl scream and beg for more, more, more. More importantly teaching him that it’s healthy to talk to people about how he feels, listening to others in return. Then out of nowhere, dropping Billy like a fly when you moved and never calling him back after you promised him you would. Like it meant nothing to you.

He had so much he wanted to say to you but you were untouchable. He didn’t know your new address to write you, couldn’t for the life of him look your family up in the phone book either. He’d never felt so hopeless, so alone. And it was a stab in the back that you never lived up to your word, promising you’d keep in contact with him and never forget about him. The then sixteen-year-old cried hard in his pillow every night for weeks wondering what went wrong to have you not even try to keep in contact. And to do that, to shove him away in a drawer labeled nothing by calling him a family friend... fuck.

Billy snaps out of the painful flashback and refuses to let any tears out. If he didn’t deserve an explanation or some type of closure, then you didn’t deserve any of his tears. He rubbed his eyes as he sped home, then almost forgets the bags of frozen food in the back with how distracted he had gotten. When he made it into the house, he heated up two of his favorite frozen burritos in the microwave and ate all his sorrow away.

As Billy finished up his greasy deliciousness, he wiped his hands off on his already dirty jeans and answered the telephone attached to the wall that obnoxiously rang. It was Tommy on the line, saying something about some banger being thrown tonight. Just like that, a lightbulb lit up in Billy’s head.

Hell yeah.

Getting drunk, dancing drunk, burying all his feelings in some college girl’s pussy and chugging vodka sounded heavenly. Anything to forget the feelings and thoughts he had that slowly but surely started coming back up to the surface about Y/N.

—

Pretending to have a good time when you’d rather be home asleep is exhausting. The day dragged on with your boyfriend taking you place after place, spending penny after penny on you in hopes to buy your love, your affection, and your time. You sighed and ran your fingers through your hair in distress as lover boy decided to take you to another party you weren’t too keen on attending. Drinking sucked and made you sick, your boyfriend hated when you got stoned, so that ruled out all the fun of these get togethers. You tried to protest but he was insistent on going, it was no use; he had to have everything he wanted, and damn anything or anyone that got in his way.

“I’m serious. Give me the keys. You’ve had your fun, now I can drive you back to yours and you get your car from mine in the morning, alright?” you tried to ask nicely twice already, but he either ignored or refused you. He was passed tipsy already, slurring as he called you names and kept whining about how you never want to have any fun. When you try to take the keys from his back pocket he shoved you away then poured the remainder of his beer in your face. Absolutely humiliated with all eyes on you, you grabbed the nearest full drink not giving a shit who it belonged to and did the same, drenching his face in whatever sticky contents were in the solo cup and gave him the finger, running upstairs. Knowing lover boy he probably won’t even remember what happened tonight, beg for forgiveness, try to buy you back to him. Not happening this time.

Finding the nearest empty room upstairs to cry by yourself then clean off the stench of beer from your face and your clothes, you weren’t quite expecting your ex from three and a half years ago to come stumbling out of the restroom, the toilet flushing behind him as he still struggled to zip himself. He had a cigarette dangling from his mouth too, looking about as “put together” as he did at the store. You laughed at the sight, classic Billy, and he snapped his head over to the sound and his cigarette nearly fell out of his mouth.

“You following me or something?” He asks, giving up on his belt and leaving it undone.

“Oh, actually I am. You caught me,” you replied, sarcasm blatant in your tone. You pulled the knobs to turn the sink on and cupped you’re hands to gather up a pool of water to wash your face that was still drenched in beer. Billy saw how disheveled you looked and wondered if it was because you were having a great time or a horrible time. Based on your attitude, he had to guess it wasn’t the ladder. “Is there anywhere you don’t smoke?” you ask, seeing as though he still smoked like a chimney even while taking a piss.

Billy chooses to ignore that, knowing you already had the answer to that question. Instead, he chooses to comment on your wet hair and beer stinking up your clothes. “Trouble in paradise?” He asks conversationally. You looked up at him and scoffed, giving him a glimpse of your ruined mascara now running down your cheeks.

“I’m not in paradise,” you answer vaguely, not wanting to bother him with the details. You just knew he wanted an I Told You So, but you were stubborn enough not give it to him.

“Sure seems like it,” he responds. You want to roll your eyes at the signature attitude he’s giving, but can’t help feeling odd by the fact that you two were alone in a room together and he still hadn’t put his belt on properly.

“You look like an idiot. Come here,” you beckon him with your finger and he doesn’t move a muscle, just staring at you with his sultry blue eyes. “Alright, have it your way. I’ll come to you, prick,” after taking four steps to meet him you yank his belt then strap it on the tightest hole possible, finishing up by lacing the strap through the belt loops. While pulling away, Billy meets your eyes and holds your stare, not even blinking before he snaps out of it and goes back to brat mode.

“Thanks, but I’m not a goddamn child anymore. And you stink like PBR.”

“Oooh, sick burn, dude. It was a Budlight, by the way. That all you have left in you?”

“No, I have more. You got time to hear ‘em?”

“Got all night.”

—

You and Billy stayed upstairs and got to catching up, also throwing immature insults like “you peaked at sixteen” and “at least I don’t smoke on the toilet.” When you both finally let up and started laughing at your past mistakes and not holding grudges because of them, that’s when the energy in the room took a turn and you now remember that this is the Billy you knew. The doofus in the supermarket that ran into the door. Now you both lay on the bed, the blonde boy propped up by the headboard still chainsmoking, and you on the other end of the bed with your feet in his lap. Billy’s heart sings with how much he missed this, missed talking and just fucking around with eachother. Not taking anything serious. It was one of the many favorite qualities he had about you.

“Shit, I can’t even believe you’re really here. Never thought I’d see you again,” he murmurs while looking down at you, playfully tickling your feet that were in front of him. You reacted by almost kicking him in the face with laughter, then demanded he knock it off to which he surrendered.

“Well, same goes for me I guess. I can’t believe you don’t even try buttoning your shirts,” you say as he laughs and hides his face in his hands, adorably self conscious. “It’s hot though, don’t get me wrong. I can forgive you for that,” you sit up and reach to tug on the collar of his red button up, before you suddenly remember how you got here in the first place. “Can you ever forgive me?”

Billy snaps his head up at the change in conversation, seeing as though you’re both getting to that point of the night. When you really start to talk about everything.

“Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

You keep your eyes trained on him and scoot further up the bed right next to him before taking his cigarette from his mouth and giving it a drag yourself.

“Can you take me home?”

Billy turns his body towards yours and wraps one arm over your shoulder, as if protecting you. “I don’t know where you live anymore,” he rubs your back and let’s you lean your head in his exposed chest.

“That’s not what I’m talking about.” you whisper as he nods in understanding, taking his keys from his pocket and opening the bedroom door and opening it for you.

—

Billy drove you to his apartment and led you up to his room, which he kept much neater than he did back in the day. He even had a bookcase that was filled with the classics as well as a variety of horror novels. Posters of naked playboy women were removed and instead he now had his class schedule hung up along with metal bands and movie posters decorating the walls. His bed was unmade, but what made you laugh out loud was seeing three rolls of tissue that were crumbled up on his bedside table.

“What? I’m getting over a cold, you asshole.” He defended himself as he took off his shirt, not caring to tell you to leave as he changed. You had to double take when you saw the ink on his upper arm, where a cheesy old fashioned skull tattoo lay.

“You can’t be serious — this isn’t real. That cannot be real,” your eyes wide with disbelief and not asking for permission before trying to rub it off, expecting it to smudge.

“Nope. It’s totally real,” he goes on to tell you his experience going in and getting it on his eighteenth birthday after feeling extra rebellious. After his story was finished he realizes he forgot to ask if you’d even eaten dinner yet. “You hungry at all? Got these kickass frozen burritos, plenty to share,” he wiggles his eyebrows at you, and you agree that they sound fantastic right about now. Billy leads you back downstairs to the kitchen and plopping a couple of them on a plate and heating them up in the microwave.

“Billy, can I tell you something?”

“Uh, sure. If you wanna ruin our meal then go for it,” Billy answers, burning his fingers on the hot plate when he tries taking it out. The boy hissed and cursed, holding his sensitive hand as if it were a wounded animal. Still sitting at the kitchen table, you roll your eyes at his stupidity and impatience then grab the oven mittens from a drawer and grab the plate for you two.

“It’s hot,” you say obviously, stopping him from taking a bite of the sizzling meal.

“Yeah, thanks for the heads up.”

“I’m serious. We’ve been avoiding it all night, but I know I hurt you when I didn’t keep in touch like I said—“

“Y/N, stop.”

“No. You need to understand-“

“I said stop.” he snaps, quickly transitioning to defense mode, vastly uncomfortable with the change in subject. It was silent for too long, and Billy didn’t want to wait any longer for the food to cool, taking a bite and spilling beans down his shirt. “Goddammit,” he grumbled before you took the lead and grabbed a napkin to clean his tank top.

“You need a bib,” you advise.

“You’re not my fucking mom, alright! You ask me to to take you back here, make me feel like a child. You’re the child. You are! Go back to your snobby little boy toy, why don’t you? Christ.” he rubs his eyes after finishing his tangent, talking more under his breath about how “unbelievable” you are, and taking another sloppy bite from the burrito but nevertheless passing the plate to you and offering you some.

“I’m not hungry anymore, and I dumped my ‘boy toy’ right when he dumped his Budlight on me.” you quote Billy’s nickname for your new ex, then your stomach interrupts you by rumbling. He looks at you and then the plate knowingly. With a sigh, you grab the burrito and take a few nibbles before wiping your hands. Billy starts to stomp back up to his room before calling your name, pausing at the top of the stairs.

“I’m going to the gym tomorrow, Max is sleeping over at her friend El’s. You don’t have to stay.”

—

Billy doesn’t know what made him clam up so fast. Maybe it was how you still treated him like he was stupid, or that you wouldn’t drop it and bring up the breakup when he thought he was actually having a nice night. As soon as he enters his room he throws a pillow across the room and pouts before laying on his bed staring up at the ceiling. He surges for his back up pack of smokes and lights one up, the nicotine relieving him of his anxiety. Eventually he had to get up again to take a piss and when he exited the bathroom, there you were, waiting for him.

“Can’t get rid of me, William.”

“Who got rid of who last time, huh?” He blows smoke in your face with a smirk, happy about the cleverness of his comeback. “I already forgave you. Don’t bother.” He told you, strolling back to his room with his smoke trailing behind him.

“I’m sorry for referring to you as a family friend. Honestly, if he were to hear anything different he would’ve hurt me and then he would’ve killed you.” Billy stopped and turned around to where you stand, seeing your eyes brimmed with tears as you held your chest, trying your hardest not to fall apart.

Tugging on his heart strings since he was sixteen, Billy can’t help but give in.

“Come here.”

You fall into his warm embrace, with “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry” I’m repeat and he shushes you while petting your hair, holding you tight.

“Y/N, baby, don’t cry. Please don’t cry,” he pleads, not standing it when you’re sad and especially when he was the cause of it.

“I left you and I didn’t talk to you ever again because I’m replaceable. You could’ve found any other girl or... or anybody to keep you company the rest of high school. But you spent it moping about losing me like the fucking idiot you are!” you laugh out loud, and it wasn’t humorous. Billy leads you in his room and ashes his cigarette without taking his hands off you.

“Listen. No, listen to me. Shut the fuck up. I didn’t mope about just any girl, and I don’t ever cry and bitch about her leaving me unless she meant the fucking world to me,” he takes your head in his hands, wanting to make you understand.

“I still love you. Even if you smoke on the toilet and do all the other weird shit you do,” you smile as you sniffle, embaressed about getting his shirt wet. Billy assured you that it didn’t matter then pulls you close to his lips.

“And I love you, even if you still reek like PBR.”

“It was a Budlight that was thrown at me, actually.”

“Shut up.”

And now Billy can say he’s never been more grateful he went to the supermarket for his favorite frozen burritos that morning.

—

sorry this sooo long but the idea was just too cute for it to be a small basic one shot!!

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #stranger things #stranger things imagine #billy hargrove imagine

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adamwatchesmovies · 4 years

Text

Adam Watches the 92nd Academy Awards

The 92nd Academy Awards have come and gone. As always, there’s plenty to be happy about and plenty that’ll make you wonder what the heck the voters were thinking. I watched the ceremony and while I may say that I don’t care… I do. Those awards are a big deal. Legions of people who would’ve otherwise dismissed Parasite as some movie that requires them to read subtitles saw it because it was nominated. One of those golden statues can make a career and let’s face it, you like to hear your love for something validated by people who have even the semblance of authority on the subject.

But here’s what you may not know: most of the voters really don’t know what they’re doing. While cinematographers NOMINATE what films are up for that Best Cinematography Award, EVERYONE in the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences gets to vote for the winner and there’s no guarantee they’ve actually seen every nominee, know what the technical terms mean or are voting because what they saw is what they actually believe was “the best”. Once you take into account the dollars required to produce a nomination campaign, the stigma many genre films face, the prejudices against certain types of roles and/or actors, and how popularity influences votes, a win hardly means more than a bunch of people you don’t know saying they liked a movie.

If you want a better idea of which of 2019’s films were “the best”, you’re better off asking someone you know and trust, someone who can prove they’ve done their homework and aren’t just voting for their friends, the one they’ve heard is good from their kid, or got a special gift basket from. I may not be a paid professional, but I have put in the time and effort to see EVERYTHING nominated (with a few exceptions I’ll detail below). Reviews for some of these (The Irishman, Judy) are coming to the blog in a couple of days. If it were up to me the list of nominees would be different but we’ll get to that later. Without further ado, here’s who SHOULD’VE won.

Best Visual Effects

1917 – Guillaume Rocheron, Greg Butler, and Dominic Tuohy The best special effects are the kind you don’t even notice. I couldn’t tell you where the explosions, sets, and actors in 1917 begin, and where the computer-generated imagery takes over. It’s seamless.

Best Film Editing

Parasite – Yang Jin-mo Got to hand it to Parasite for its amazing use of montage and the way it stitched its footage together. Some shots I initially thought initially were one take I realized under carefully scrutiny - and by that I mean frame-by-frame examination - were actually two melded together. The scenes showing how the Kim family infiltrate the Park’s household should be shown in film class to demonstrate how the art of montage is at its best should be done to maximum effect.

Best Costume Design

Little Women – Jacqueline Durran Funny how every single film nominated at the 92nd Academy Awards was a period piece. My vote goes to Little Women not because it was necessarily the most accurate (I couldn’t tell you what people wore in 1868) but because of the way the costumes were used. You can tell a lot about the characters from the multiple outfits they wear throughout the film - check out that purple bonnet adorned by Aunt Marsh (Meryl Streep).

Best Makeup and Hairstyling

Bombshell – Kazu Hiro, Anne Morgan, and Vivian Baker I called it when I reviewed the film. The makeup used to transform John Lithgow was nothing short of incredible. It was an easy pick.

Best Cinematography

1917 – Roger Deakins I’m glad to see The Lighthouse on this list but I have to hand it to 1917. The one-shot motif adds so much to the story. Then, there are the individual shots I remember so vividly. The quiet meadow just outside of No Man’s Land, the raging inferno Schofield sees when he wakes up, the trench he must run in front of to reach the Colonel are all shots that permanently imprint themselves into your memory.

Best Production Design

1917 – Production Design: Dennis Gassner; Set Decoration: Lee Sandales Tempted to hand it to Parasite for the house they constructed for the movie but I’m give it to 1917. The trenches, the blasted landscape of No Man’s Land still haunt me. When you see the craters, it’s jarring. Then, as your eyes become adjusted, you notice the rats. Then, the chunks of bone and charred meat that have now become part of the landscape. It’s horrific.

Best Sound Mixing

Ford v Ferrari – Paul Massey, David Giammarco, and Steven A. Morrow What you remember most from Ford v Ferrari is that big race at the end. The climax wouldn’t have been the same without the sounds we heard. The roar of the engines, the clacking and grinding as the pedals are pushed and gears are switched… the air rushing by. Out of the nominees, it’s the one whose sounds I most remember.

Best Sound Editing

Ford v Ferrari – Donald Sylvester This year, the Best Sound Editing award goes hand-in-hand with the sound mixing. Obviously, the actors were never moving at the kind of speeds depicted in Ford v Ferrari but you wouldn’t be able to tell because of the foley and sound design.

Best Original Song

Stand Up from Harriet – Music and Lyrics by Joshuah Brian Campbell and Cynthia Erivo Stand Up plays during the end credits of Harriet and it perfectly caps the film. Whenever I hear its lyrics, I’m transported back to that moment. It’s the most memorable and emotional song on this list.

Best Original Score

Joker – Hildur Guðnadóttir I chose the best song for its ability to stand out. In this category, Joker wins because its music doesn’t stand out… at least not at first. While you’re watching, those notes don’t draw attention to themselves. They subconsciously build the mood, augmenting the performance by Joaquin Phoenix, the visuals, and the story. You don’t notice how much of an effect it has on you until you see isolated clips. When you do, it’s shocking.

Best Animated Short Film

Abstaining (I’ve only seen Hair Love)

Best Live Action Short Film

Abstaining

Best Documentary Short Subject

Abstaining

Best Documentary Feature

Abstaining

Best International Feature Film

Abstaining, as I’ve only seen 2 films (Pain and Glory and Parasite)

Best Animated Feature Film

I Lost My Body – Jérémy Clapin and Marc du Pontavice I Lost My Body is the most audacious and inspired of the animated films nominated. The only movie among these to be aimed at adults, it often tells its story through visuals alone but when you get to the end, you realize it’s about more than just what was on-screen.

Best Adapted Screenplay

Little Women – Greta Gerwig based on the novel by Louisa May Alcott Greta Gerwig does more than merely adapt the classic novel, she breathes new life into it, makes it her own, makes it feel wholly new and modern. This version of the film surpasses all others we’ve seen before because of the changes she’s made to the story’s structure.

Best Original Screenplay

Knives Out – Rian Johnson What a ride Knives Out was. It’s got so many twists and turns, so many delightful characters you want to re-watch it the second it’s over so that you are no longer distracted by its central mystery and can simply step back and admire the handiwork by Rian Johnson. A sequel’s been announced and I can’t wait to see it.

Best Supporting Actress

Laura Dern – Marriage Story as Nora Fanshaw Laura Dern was also in Little Women and her two roles couldn’t be more different. Here, she’s loathsome and captivating. As soon as I saw Nora take off her shoes before she kneeled down on the couch to console Nicole, I knew there was a whole lot more to her character than what we were told. The more you see her, the more you want.

Best Supporting Actor

Al Pacino – The Irishman as Jimmy Hoffa Al Pacino has the advantage of getting A LOT of screen time as Jimmy Hoffa. The Irishman clocks in at over 3,5 hours and he isn’t in the whole movie but when he is, the seasoned performer gives us so much. At different periods of the story, you’ll feel differently about him. There’s no point comparing him to the real-life person. He takes the meaty role and makes it his own. His voice, his mannerisms, I can’t think of anyone who could’ve done it better.

Best Actress

Renée Zellweger – Judy as Judy Garland Judy was the very last movie on my list to watch, having missed it when it came to theatres. When I think back to Zellweger’s performance, I don’t see her. All I see is her character, a rich, complex person you sometimes hate, sometimes love and feel sorry for. The movie is not going to be on my “Best of” list but she is.

Best Actor

Joaquin Phoenix – Joker as Arthur Fleck / Joker To me, there was no question Joaquin Phoenix would take this one. I saw Joker three times and each time, I found something new in his performance.

Best Director

Sam Mendes – 1917 With this award, I’m awarding Sam Mendes for the craft he displayed in 1917. It’s such a visceral experience that when people asked me how it compared to Dunkirk, it felt weird to lump both together. This is coming from someone who gave both pictures a 5-star review, who put both on their respective “best of the year” lists. It’s a movie I’m going to go back to and wondering “how did they do that?!

Best Picture

Little Women – Amy Pascal It’s a tough call for me this year, partially because I loved Parasite, 1917, Joker, and others so much. I’m planning on adding those three films to my collection so I can pop them into my Blu-ray player any times I feel like it. That said, I would’ve given the Best Picture Award to Little Women. You’re so emotionally invested in this little story that telling you why with merely words is impossible. You fall in love over and over. It made me cry and every time I think back to that scene at Christmas, I tear up again. I’m choosing it because of all the things it does differently from the other films. At the end of the day, it isn’t a big story. It isn’t about people with guns, corruption, war, a turning point in history or even necessarily the biggest event in the lives of the characters but it feels like it is. That’s exactly why it’s so good.

Disagree with my choices? I don’t blame you. What kind of idiot finds a way to leave out Marriage Story from their list? You let me know where it should’ve gone. Hopefully, commenting keep you warm until MY Best of 2019 list gets posted in the next few days.

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abundantchewtoys · 4 years

Text

Homestuck^2 re: Chapter 3 “How Are Your Feelings” p96-118

So, the next chapter appears to be about an attempted feelings jam.

I think it might be too early yet for the pursuing crew, so maybe we'll have a look at Karkat and Meenah?

Though if there's ever a way for the pursuing crew or Dirk's crew to meet up with the new teens, I'm fully expecting Vrissy to have a "mom?" moment re: Kanaya or Rosebot.

---

Page 96

OOoooh!! Okay, so I was wrong.

Hah, that does look like something Jake would do - build a fleet of wildy different space ships.

Plus, it's an emerald pirate ship... In pursuit of a great white whale- I mean shark. Hah!

So yeah... It's been three years since Rose and Kanaya were together. :/

I suspect the crew is made up out of Dave, Karkat, Jade (perhaps possessed) and Roxy. But that'd mean Jane had the run of Earth C for all this time, and Calliope is back there in a worsening political climate.

Hmmm... Maybe Roxy would have chosen to bring their partner along though. Even though Callie is upset by the presence of her other self. In any case, I wonder what they look like! Whether they're still a deadringer for Dave.

---

Page 97

Pfff, what an exhaust pipe. I love the visual pun.

---

Page 98

Woooww, this reminds me of Problem Sleuth / Midnight Crew visuals! So purple though. Whose room is this, Roxy's? (It might be closer to violet than purple.)

Ooh boy, Calliope's about to take over the narrative. So she hasn't let poor Jade out of her grasp, or at least not definitely.

---

Page 99

D'aaaaahh, she's a frickin devil now. PFfffffffff, this is Dave and Karkat's room! Glad to see Davekat's still canon.

I bet this might be a recurring occurence, Jade/Calliope coming in at the most impossible hours bearing ominous tidings.

Hihih, so she's taken over the command box only for now. I suppose it's a clever way to show she could still take over the narrative is she was so inclined.

---

Page 100

Dave is more upset with Karkat than Jade, pffff.

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Page 101

Ooooh, new outfits! Wait, Calliope made herself a new outfit. :/ She's getting comfortable in that new body.

Karkat has a Time shirt for a pyjama, hahah. I'm pretty sure he fell on his sweater, which probably still bears the Cancer sign.

Cool to have a squinting version of Dave's sprite. Now all we still need is one with his eyes wide open, but this is a start.

I'd start wondering if Calliope's starting to be a bit lonely, reaching out to Karkat and Dave like this with her message. And yup, she does it all the time. Dave's blasé about it.

---

Page 102

Welp! Jade's doing the Possesion 180-degree turn of the head now.

Return of the gross, oil-slick coffee machine from the meteor, maybe? :P

---

Page 103

Oh cool, at first glance Roxy's appearance is that jarring. Maybe her coup is a little shorter than before, but not as short as she wore it during the Meat epilogues, near the end. Guess she might be working through some of the same things as Candy Roxy and understanding she doesn't have to go all non-binary if that isn't where her heart is up at in.

Also, cool shades! Though, of course, a Heart is a bit of a faux pas perhaps, giving who they're chasing. :P

So Jade at least spent the first part of the voyage more silent. But as her powers grow, she has more control over Jade's body. :/

Cool, Dave has Karkat's shirt as part of his jammies. Roxy just went with a full on hoodie. At least I think it's her jammies, she's reading at the kitchen table but it's probably still night.

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Page 104

Pfff. Welp. Yes Roxy, mirroring what you think your ancestors were doing ends up looking dumber when you actually meet them in person.

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Page 105

ooooh, okay, so her hair is back to mirroring Dave's coupe. Roxy's hair is a bird pass it on. I love the sprite art, also of the kitchen itself.

Cool to have a comparison is size between meteor and this ship. Though with even less to explore, I can see how things might have grown dull around here. Also confirmation of Roxy's pronoun change, still a thing.

And I have a feeling Dave and Kanaya are in for a feelings jam.

Blaperile has a point, maybe Calliope commands the attention of the narrative, but she commands the narrative itself, so she can make the story follow Dave instead, as he goes to find Kanaya.

---

Page 106

Cool, even the inside looks like a pirate ship. Jake's quite taken with matters of appearances, practicalities be damned! :P

I suppose alchemizing a spaceship and a sailing boat would result in still a viable means to cross the void, the physics behind alchemization would ensure it.

---

Page 107

That appears to be a different hairstyle or hood. ... Is she wearing a grieving gown?

Maybe she's contemplating how she's ended up here, having to deal with another clown coming between her and her loved ones. I wonder how much harm she's wishing to heap onto Dirk, I mean.

---

Page 108

Aww, that rose in her hood.

And yup, Dave has it pinned down: they keep finding themselves either literally or figuratively chasing through the void, with no idea what's coming. You know, remembering how Dave saw the meteor as his first real home, I get the idea he might be the most in his element here. But he knows it's not a healthy pastime.

---

Page 109

She's wearing a ribbon much like Rose used to wear.

What story could Rose have reserved for reading to grubs, and what are the odds Vrissy knows the story as well, having been raised by Rose?

---

Page 110

It is on point for both Kanaya to read too much into Rose's story, as well as Rose putting all that symbolism in it on purpose.

... Aww, she's really hurting. But through the hurt she's started to wonder, perhaps in an attempt to limit her pain, whether she isn't being manipulated into feeling like this. At this point, it could really be either.

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Page 111

Wow. Okay, Dave's really opening up here to Kanaya. It was actually a relationship I didn't really see evolving due to both of their inherent awkwardness.

But that's Dave for you. If you find a place in his heart, he'll die before he lets you go into harm's way alone.

---

Page 113

Turntable gesture! And okay, yes, via Dave it's shown Roxy's back to identifying male after the past few years.

Yes, his and Karkat shit has definitely changed, for one, Karkat almost unabashedly acknowledges they're matesprits back there in the kitchen.

And it's Kanaya who does the title drop after all, not Dave like I was starting to think.

---

Page 114

Awww, yeah, Dave is really the only one left of the old B1 crew in a normal state of mind. Here's to hoping his brush with Davebot doesn't leave him in a state like Callie.

And yes, Dirk has shown his true colours, and Dave is feeling like a runt for ever thinking he could be different from his Bro. :/ Poor guy, I feel for him.

Meanwhile, he innocently hopes that Dirk's influence was the only thing causing Jane and Jake not being good leaders for Earth. Too bad we know the alternative is far from good.

Though he's also oversimplifying, since he himself said that Earth C society wasn't sustainable in the long run, they just sped things up.

Aww, he admits to feeling more in his element out here. Yeah, I very much understand that. It's easier to deal with fewer people in your social circles, a lot of the time.

---

Page 116

Ah, the other side of the coin. Dave and Kanaya are bonding over Rose. Karkat and Roxy are kind of related as well through Dave.

Oooooh, so Calliope DID come along. Brave of her, with how "Jade" unnerves her so.

Karkat's right, the people that left weren't really so close to him as to others, he mostly here to support Dave! But of course we know he really would be good at leading at least a rebellion. Though it wouldn't really feel fulfilling either.

I wonder what's in store for Karkat, in fact, if it isn't to be a leader.

"KARKAT: I LITERALLY FOUGHT PEOPLE FOR CONTROL OF THE TEAM, AND WHAT ENDED UP HAPPENING WAS LITERALLY EVERY SINGLE ONE OF MY FRIENDS BESIDES KANAYA DIED. KARKAT: ACTUALLY, SHE DID DIE! KARKAT: FUCK! KARKAT: I’M ZERO FOR ZERO! ROXY: ur kinda an intense dude anybody ever tell u that KARKAT: NO."

Best interaction. Is Roxy really going to help Karkat deal with something here? :P

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Page 117

Hah! Yes, well, I guess Karkat already has his win state the way he wants it! Though he's still feeling conflicted about it on some level, but that's just the type of person he is.

Roxy's REALLY gunning to make pancakes, hahah. Guess a part of her really is good at the whole caring thing.

---

I definitely like the pacing of the chapters so far. Good combo of visuals and conversation.

#homestuck #homestuck^2 #reaction #homestuck^2 chapter 3 #roxy lalonde #dave strider #kanaya maryam #karkat vantas #alternate calliope #liveblogging homestuck

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micjohnsonn59-blog · 5 years

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The Number One Question You Must Ask for Roxys Prices

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annieoftheshitposts · 7 years

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this post used to be a link to the old canons page but i’m turning it into a text dump of the revised one for people on mobile [or who have bad wifi/computers that the fancy schmancy script on the canons page wouldn’t play well with.] theres a lot sorry not sorry. here we go.

Canon Info

Much more is said about Annie in external sources than the game itself, here's copypastes of all I know of and go by.

From the 3rd DLC Character Voting page:

As popular figures in nationwide folktales, a children’s television adaptation of Annie and Sagan’s adventures was inevitable. The show’s success lies in its pair of live action hosts, who are as convincing as their cartoon counterparts. Though what the public learns about the real Annie might surprise them. Annie is a seasoned fighter who has been around for a long time, acquiring many skills and powers along the way. Her sword is forged from a meteorite and can channel the power of the stars in its sweeping cleaves. Her right eye bonds her to her Remote Parasite and partner, Sagan, who grants her powers of a galactic motif. While some of her abilities carry more of a sparkly magical girl motif, Annie tries to execute them with the same sternness.

From "The canon info thread" on Skullheart Encore forums:

-Annie is several-century-old. Her immortality was gained when her parents wished on the Skull Heart so that Annie would never have to experience the hardship of adulthood, thereby making her forever a child. -She has had many different weapons and abilities throughout her life. - Sagan, her remote parasite. keeps her right eye in his mouth. - She’s physically not able to swear due to her condition - She is familiar with Double due to her experience fighting Skullgirls - Annie has encountered a lot of Skullgirls and has killed a lot, but not the same a lot. She’s seen the cycle multiple times and seen how they become stronger each time and is looking for the underlying source now. - The Annie of the Stars show is very similar to the Super Mario Bros. Super Show with live action segments with cartoons and PSAs and commercials in between. - Sagan can talk. Somehow. - Annie hides her immortality by getting a new hairstyle every few years. The show tells the audience that they have simply changed the actress. Eliza also pulls a similar trick

and finally some other misc. scraps that weren't covered above:

-annie has some kind of "super" or "powered up" form, in which she seems to fuse with sagan. it can be seen on her

move concept sheet, in the end of robo-fortune's story mode, and as a very tiny feature on one of robo-fortune's merch posters, but to my knowlege it's never really been talked about.

-she's been depicted with an "incognito outfit", presumably for going out in public and not being recognized by fans.

-sagan is named after renowned astrophysicist carl sagan. this isnt really relevant to anything but it's not on the wiki so i figured i'd share :b

-and this random pic of annie in the past with a different look, plus gun and minus eyepatch, apparently official art from the "digital art compendium". i haven't seen the source for this one myself though, and count this one more as speculative canon since that ingame image up there with her eye uncovered doesn't show a scar or any kind of damage from this.

-another canon fact about annie is she is strong and brave and i love her.

Headcanon (Annie)

this is pretty disorganized bc i come up with and revise random shit on a fairly regular basis, but the very least it should be all here and up-to-date. [though on this text post version i may forget to keep it updated oops.

she can still only normally see from the one eye in her head [and likewise probably has terrible depth perception lmao], but she can “project” her vision into the one sagan has if need be, during which time both he and her main eye are blind.

even though sagan’s vision is his own and she doesn’t actively “see” through that eye most of the time, the stuff he sees still becomes part of her memory and she can recall it if need be, though it’s far less tangible and kind of a surreal experience trying to do so.

the space where her other eye was is now just...space. like empty starry void stuff. yes, TECHNICALLY, you could put stuff in it but why would you. sagan can feel when something interacts with it and it’s really just weird and uncomfortable for both of them.as sagan is the source of their powers, the strength of her abilities is slightly dependent on her distance from him. something like long sustained flight is really only capable if they’re touching, but she still has ample firepower and ability to zip around for a pretty good range otherwise.

Not interested in anime

absolutely hates being called her full name; hasn't gone by anything other than "Annie" for longer than anyone that should be alive today should know.

part of her curse of eternal youth is remembering everything up until the point it kicked in and she stopped aging [i.e. when she was Actually a kid] exactly as well as if she hadn’t aged.

from that point however, a lot of it is hazy as shit aside from more recent times [as you’d expect from someone who’s been around hundreds of years]. this one's gonna be angsty as shit when i address it and you can thank @sandstriker for that. fucker.

also hates being restrained. by the concept sheet and beo's story, her fighting style is very kinetic and relies heavily on mobility; take that away and you get one very uncomfortable and very angry starchild. [this one's 'cause of y'all with the handcuffs asks. this is part of why she's so agitated rn.]

what's in the pouch? whatever is alternatively convenient. is it snacks? is it a quick incognito disguise? is it her whole entire sword? who knows. i think it might be infinite hammerspace in there.

i haven't put much though into this side of her story yet, but i've decided part of the mythos of the "annie of the stars" character as a figure of legend is that she literally lives, among the stars.

if there's enough folktales about her to base an entire show off of, i'm willing to bet she used to be less elusive when she was just about fighting skullgirls before dedicating herself to the whole "looking for the underlying source" thing.

Headcanon (Sagan)

tl;dr: as far as things go here, he's essentially a cat and/or younger sibling.

Sagan's canon information and characterization is basically nonexistant, so i got to do pretty much whatever i wanted with him lmao.

simply put, he's a little gremlin of a partner, but he is genuinely good-natured and a happy-go-luckly little dude. mischevious, loves to get up to Shenanigans, go off and hide/disappear to fuck knows where for several hours, climb and sit on tall things[or failing that, annie's head], etc. @sawkinator has described him, regrettably accurately, as "the Token Disney Animal Sidekick". he has a lot of mannerisms like an animal, but is still very much a being of at least average human intelligence. he's also surprisingly indestructible. far from invincible of course, but in canon he's been shown to be quite stretchy and...possibly have minor shapeshifting capabilities?? he's pretty much immune to being squashed and feels very little [if any] pain from most things. really, as far as i can tell he's pretty much a weird sentient plushie. like, if it's not going to damage a plushie, it's not going to hurt him; examples being: getting knocked back really hard or falling a long way? not a problem. fire? problem.

Sagan tends to be somewhat nonverbal and generally only uses a few words or short phrase at a time when he does speak, which sounds something like the voice clip below. that being how it is, he can be kind of inscrutable and more than a bit jarring to most people--though at this point annie's been with him more than long enough to be completely desensitized to it and doesnt quite get why anyone would be perturbed. fortunately, with that familiarity also comes understanding, and she can easily "translate" and articulate more from his expressions. this understanding is a two-way street, and on its other side is sagan's sensitivity to her moods. annie's not particularly...communicative of her emotions, but sagan can always tell when she's having an off day or something's bothering her, and is far better than anyone at helping her feel better. all things said and quirky antics aside, he and annie are exceptionally close and fiercely protective of eachother the moment it comes to it. they don't make a big deal of showing it outwardly, but they know they've always got eachother's backs.

he's taken quite a liking to beowulf as well, and beo defintiely shamelessly enables sagan's shenanigans.

as i see it, annie may be the passion and power of their operation, but sagan is the heart and soul. beowulf is like....comic releif and emotional support. not entirely necessary, but certainly welcomed to have around. yeah. listen im a big sap i just want them all to be good friends ok. i love them.

also sagan does like and watch a lot of anime.

Blog Canon

miscellaneous happenings that either have continued relevance/significance, or y'all just won't let die. there's not a overarching plot to this thing at all, but geez we’ve kinda gathered some history here huh?

taught sagan to say fuck [and other swears, in her stead]. he used to have to do it on command but he's gotten really good at filling in for her.has a

stoat fursona that beo helped her make. she thinks it's neat/cute but has no real attachment to it.

attempted to sue the crystal gems for ripping off her entire shtick [it didn't go well]

beowulf also taught her how to dab.

@sparkeletran is a nuisance and must be stopped

the 70$ pile of high school musical merch. sagan and beo both wear the t-shirts sometimes. she hates it. don't let her attitude fool you though this is actually the best and most important ongoing joke in this whole damn thing.

the first handcuffs stint. they’re gone now but they had a good ~30-post run, and she did take to learning lockpicking because of it.

this.

hey. guess fucking what lads. handcuffs ROUND TWO 'cause y'all just don't fuckin' quit. the first mini story arc sorta thing, in which she visits the cirque des cartes and has an aggravting encounter with taliesin. [currently ongoing][hopefully soon ending]

[[redacted for ""spoilers""]] due to said encounter with taliesin

sparkeletran is a nuisance,

"the official annie of the stars instagram is just cat memes but with sagan" it's canon but i haven't decided whether it's something she would have had already or a recent thing. [either way, hasn't been touched on yet due to the arc taking so long]

badart annie is sorta like her own thing at this point but nothing that happens with her is canon; she p much just shows up for exceptionally dumb posts. we did give her noclip though which is terrifying. on that note i may as well include the things that are Not canon but y'all won't let me forget

beo's animated belt thing. look. it doesnt talk.

spray-on boots.

the lawnmower weapon

uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh homestuck

#not annieposting

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pelikinesis · 5 years

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warning: this was a casual review of the movie Outcast, until it wasn’t (and then it kept going)

i just watched Outcast, because it was free on Tubitv and because it had Nicolas Cage and Hayden Christensen on top billing. the fact that it was supposed to be set in 12th century China was even more baffling, and probably racist. it has a 5% on Rotten Tomatoes. but...

but i had to know. i had to see this for myself. so i did.

and now that i have, i’m puzzled as to what exactly they were going for.

amongst other things, they literally forget about one character. there’s a random peasant girl, and i say that because that’s how she was first introduced, and given that she has virtually no other scenes and does literally nothing of significance, she’s still just a random peasant girl by the end of the movie.

the only thing she contributes is that, by rescuing her, Hayden Christensen’s PTSD Crusade veteran can be reminded he’s redeemable. she interacts maybe once with each main character afterwards in short, terse scenes. tomorrow i’ll wake up, remember watching Outcast, and struggle with my own memory on if there was a fourth character in that movie and call bullshit on myself. that might even be the main point of writing this, to prove it wasn’t a completely mundane embellishment on my part.

and i start off mentioning that, because it’s the only way to explain how Nicolas Cage is in a movie where he’s missing an eye, sports the most improbable and jarring hairstyle yet, and at one point wears live snakes on his arms while yelling in incomprehensible angrish at Hayden Christensen who is in a fever dream, and yet i have to remind myself of those details because his character is somehow forgettable.

and i may be biased, but i imagine it has to do with how little he is in the movie. I’d be surprised if he were in more than 30 minutes of the entire movie. he’s there in the prologue, appears in a handful of flashbacks, then shows up at the end to have a dramatic Boromir-esque final stand shortly after telling his whole “here’s what i was up to between the beginning of the movie and now, it’s very tragic, let me tell you, in words, in expository dialogue, in this incredibly visual medium, what happened to me and why you should care”

another thing i’m going to remember tomorrow is Nic Cage’s shockingly mediocre rousing speech to his troops ala King Theoden at Helm’s Deep (the LotR references are apt in the worst way, trust me), because no such thing happened, and yet it needed to, for the climactic battle of traitorous Blackguard vs. Nic Cage’s wacky mountain bandits. because otherwise, the mountain bandits have no incentive to risk their lives for the falsely-framed prince--it’s been established multiple times that no other group, not the palace guards, nor town inhabitants, nor merchant caravans from the Middle East, were willing to fight on behalf of the true heir to the throne against the patricidal tyrant prince.

but no such speech happened. there’s an incredibly bitter reunion between the two white Crusade veterans where they clear up a minor misunderstanding, become friends, and then suddenly not only Nic Cage but his entire mountain bandit gang are down to fight against impossible odds against the best soldiers of the empire. at the very least they needed a scene where they somehow agreed they were going to do this thing, but they didn’t even go through the motions.

i was actually confused when i saw them starting to collectively mess with jars and powder and stuff. i thought they might be deciding to flee or something, and then i was wondering if i must have misheard or misinterpreted the past several minutes of dialogue. What was their plan, exactly? I understand why it had to be a last, desperate stand with no possible escape routes (hence the Helm’s Deep reference)--because the prologue of the movie had to have a call-back at the end, with the turntables bieng turned. very poetic, yes.

but there’s no indication that this battle has to happen. They’re deep in the mountains. They’re being harried by a force of fully armed and heavily armored infantry. They had to cross a large river and were only seen getting across in a series of thin, canoe-like boats. there’s every indication that the main characters, aside from Anakin, had time to come up with a plan beside “last stand against hopeless odds” because while i can buy some of the Blackguard catching up to their general area, it couldn’t be the entire overwhelming force presented in the climactic battle.

on the other hand, if in fact several days or even weeks had passed and Anakin was unconscious for the whole time, as opposed to at most a day as all clues indicate, then Nic Cage would have asked the royal siblings and maybe even Random Peasant Girl what the hell was going on, and could have made preparations for escape well before the Blackguard could have arrived in force.

come to think of it, they basically started off a set of character arcs and only like one or two got resolved, namely between Anakin and Chinese Padme. i mean, the character is literally a princess so this analogy actually works. also, the actress clearly was doing the best she could with the script, much like Natalie Portman. it was the most okay thing about the movie. she even gets a feminist speech in on Anakin, though unfortunately his reaction scene is very rushed.

so i’ll always be in favor of gratuitous feminist speeches, as opposed to gratuitous sexist speeches, when it comes to both fiction and real life, and even though it seems rather bold for a 12th century Chinese princess to tell off a white Christian crusader about how the horrors of war also affect women, interrupting his guilt-ridden man-pain pity party at a perfect moment. and he pauses and then says ‘u rite’ which would be fine if the camera didn’t end the scene with a very short shot of his face turned away from the camera. should have been right on him shoving his foot knee-deep into his own mouth. for symbolism.

and when i say it’s gratuitous, i do believe that’s mostly a function of that scene ending so quickly. if that scene continued, it could have gone somewhere interesting, even flowed into their obvious romantic arc.

finally, the whole concept of a movie about white European crusaders finding themselves caught up in a royal coup in Song Dynasty-era China (unless i’m doing history wrong, which is very possible) after being disillusioned and traumatized by their war experiences in Jerusalem--that’s not a bad concept.

the prospect of following a character who started off galvanized by genuine religious fervor, to struggling with the reality that the Crusades, like the majority of other wars, is about greed and power, then ended up complicit in war crimes and massacres just by doing their job as soldiers and holy duty as Christians--as they go from that to becoming embroiled in the bloodshed of royal succession, that’s a jarring-ass thing. they’re completely difference worlds in every meaningful sense.

but the fact is, the writing isn’t very good, at least not in the state it was clearly cut into, and furthermore, the above concept would only be sufficiently meaningful if the film was done with a Chinese language, where Hayden Christensen and Nicolas Cage do their dialogue in the language of the setting the film is set in. there’s absolutely no way that subtext could be earned when it’s the presence of the two top-billed white males as part of the rationale for a film that was filmed in, set in, and made most of its money in China to have English be the spoken language.

and that’s super annoying because i hate the fact that I have to read the synopsis of a movie like Outcast and be correct in assuming there’s something racist about--because there didn’t have to be. this could have been--no, there COULD BE films featuring multicultural casts of characters set in the distant past that aren’t racist, or pandering, or whatever. i wish i didn’t need the skepticism that i have to that idea.

the whole prospect of different people from different places in the world suddenly cross paths, at a time when the world was so comparatively disconnected it was effectively much larger, and living in different empires were essentially living in different worlds, is always interesting to me, precisely because i’m so bad at history. Just looking at the wikipedia page for my birth year to see what events occurred at the same time i debuted my life, it’s overwhelming.

in 1989 the Showa era gave way to the Heisei era in Japan, a distinction i really only understand in the context of Kamen Rider; Ted Bundy was executed in Florida; the nation of Iran placed a $3 million bounty on Salman Rushdie for authoring The Satanic Verses; Exxon spilled 240,000 barrels of oil into the waters around Alaska; there were the Tiananmen Square protests; the Game Boy was released; The Berlin Wall is torn down; The Velvet Revolution begins in Prague; Salvadore Dali and Lucille Ball both died that year.

one thing that struck me is how simultaneously few and many names there are in the births and deaths lists. the pattern that emerges from these lists is on the one hand, unsurprising, but on the other, infuriating in a way. performers and politicians populate these lists. everyone else becomes relegated to memory. just like Random Peasant Girl. i could imagine a writer gave her a couple more scenes that would have made her a meaningful character in the movie. and those scenes got deleted, and her story doesn’t make it into the film that people saw.

i just realized how far this has gone from what was originally a review or rant of Outcast. I’ve been watching a lot of video essays recently, most of which are about video game franchises. they’re really well done, at least the one’s I’ve seen. Off of the top of my head I remember the name Noah Caldwell-Gervais, or something like that. Cadwell, maybe. I’d check, but then I’d probably keep writing, at least until the weed wears off completely.

it’s weird how listening and watching essays makes me miss writing/composing essays, giving speeches, and all that. or maybe it’s just weird how i like doing that sort of thing. or how i’m really impressionable. or maybe Outcast was weird.

Outcast *is* weird. I also hope that we’re reaching the tail end of the ongoing film industry convention of giving movies really bland, generic names. Outcast. Jumper. Shooter. mmm, no, i should take back that last point. i’d have to look at more lists of movies to see whether this is just confirmation bias or actually a thing. Jumper and SHooter are way older movies too i think. anyways, i hope that we’re reaching the tail end of a lot of things that are currently ongoing. like white supremacy and continuing to permit systems of governance that permit and entrench white supremacy and other bullshit.

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