#i rly dug this movie

[keeksandgigz]

a shot in the darkest dark

steve harrington x commitment issues! fem!reader

i fucking love writing angst and this is also my very first steve work! tiny little blurbie for now cause I've been obsessed w Steve and this song

cw: unrequited love, reader has committment issues, one instance of self deprecating language, no physical description of reader, just lots of rly sad stuff

word count: 1.5K

"Awww, Steve, look! It's such a nice desk" you'd said, pointing at an oakwood desk while absentmindedly looking at furniture at a big Indianapolis mall.

Steve seemed to be in his own world, as he paced around the aisles, looking at tables, chairs, patio decor. He'd taken you out of Hawkins for the day, a little date that didn't involve movies or aimlessly walking around the small downtown area.

You hadn't been dating for too long, and to your wishes, he was taking things slow with you. You'd been so lovely to him, though and him to you.

He'd take you out on dates and pay the bill, drive you around when you needed to clear your head and kiss you goodnight at your doorstep. It was too good to be true.

For the past six months, Steve Harrington had been at your beck and call at every hour of every day, eager to see you, be with you, literally do anything as long as it was with you.

His only flaw was falling in love too fast.

"Oh yeah, it's really nice. I can get it for our first apartment" he dug into your side, smiling. The future was all he worried about, his beautiful picket- fence dream that he'd always wanted.

It made you uncomfortable, how easily he was able to talk about moving in together, starting a family, getting married. Your mind didn't work like that. You took a step away from him, an awkward laugh escaping you.

"I need to get a scarf, it's starting to get cold in Hawkins, come with me?" you'd said, swallowing the guilt that came from dismissing his dreams.

You'd thought you could have made it work. Steve was a lovely guy, so devoted to you he'd damn year kiss and worship the ground you walked on. But everything was too good. It wasn't something you thought you deserved.

You'd paid close attention to him, for any flaw that could have given you an excuse to go, but he was too perfect.

"Yeah, uh- of course, honey. Maybe we should come here during Christmas, I heard they do some really nice markets. I could get you something nice" he'd suggested, putting his arm around you. You breathed through your nose.

"Yeah- yeah that sounds nice." You whispered, as you walked over to Sears.

The day went about the same after that. He'd come across a little baby onesie with stars on them.

"Look honey, isn't it so cute?" he smiled. You had to hold back a grimace at his implication.

He looked at the window of a real estate agency, taking account of what a four bedroom home in Idianapolis would cost. Planning to save his money from his shiny new accounting firm job.

"Ooh" he cooed "that house is real nice, don't you think baby?" he pointed at a white picket- fence light blue home with a big front yard.

"Yeah, it's really nice" you said "Steve, I'm kinda tired. Can we go home?" you'd protested, hoping he'd just drop you at your house and you could cry it out, wondering what was wrong with you for not wanting what many girls your age wanted. Stability. A family.

"For sure, honey. Want to stay over at mine's? We can grab a movie and get some pizza or something" he said, kissing your temple.

The fact that he was okay with you taking your time didn't mean that he took his. He was a speeding train running at full speed ahead, while you felt like you were biking behind him, feeling left out from this feeling of love and devotion that he continuously showed you.

"Uh, no, thank you, Steve. I have work in the morning" you lied. You didn't want to see him. The guilt would have only grown stronger, until you could not have taken it anymore.

The drive home was surprisingly quiet. Steve chalked it up to you being tired. He knew crowded places overwhelmed you.

After an hour and a half of complete silence, he pulled up in the street where you lived.

"Oh look, baby, a dog! I've always wanted one like that, maybe we can get one-"

"Steve just fucking stop it!" you'd interrupted him, banging on the dashboard. He braked hard in the middle of the empty street.

"Jesus, babe, what's wrong?" he said "Sorry for braking this hard" as he parked up the curb.

You breathed "Sorry, Steve. I-I can't do this." you whispered.

You breathed "Sorry, Steve. I can't do this. This is moving so incredibly fast” you exhaled, letting the boulder weighing on your chest slowly crumble, and you with it. 

“I’m sorry, I’m- I’m not sure I understand. Can’t do what?” he said, nearing his head towards yours. Wanting to be close to you, wanting to hear your thoughts. You retracted from him, now heaving.

The air in the car felt so incredibly stuffy as you unfastened your seatbelt and got out, heading towards your front porch. He followed you suit, cursing yourself for wanting to let him go.

You were leading him on with false hopes of a future you didn't want. You needed to free him before it was too late. The crisp November air turned your breaths into vapor, tinging your noses red. He'd forgotten his coat in the car.

"I just- I can't do this. I can't do us. This is... too much. The moving in and the house and the kids and the dog and the family stuff. I can't Steve I don't want this" you rambled. And that's when the waterworks started. Mascara running down your cheeks, loud sobs populating the otherwise quiet cul de sac.

He got closer to you, but you backed away once again. He didn't need to be that close, not when you were trying to let him go.

"Baby... what- I- I had no idea, I just- I" he was helplessly stuttering. Your chest was aching watching his eyes gloss over ever so slightly, you swore you could hear his heart break.

"I'm so sorry, Steve. I tried. I tried so incredibly hard to see what you saw and I fucking hate myself for not being able to. You're so great, you've been such a lovely boyfriend and I need you to know, because I don't wanna lead you on. I care so much about you but-"

"You don't love me" he interrupted you. A whisper. Barely audible, but loud enough that you could hear the hurt in his voice "It's been six months. You don't love me?" he continued. A breath caught in your throat as you tried to answer that you did try, you did care for him.

You just didn't love him how he did. You knew you were doomed since you'd started going out.

The world went quiet, but not in your ears, a loud whistle kept you on alert, wishing you could crawl inside and hide under your bed forever.

Steve's eyes became clouded with tears as the silence between you became the loudest response he could have ever gotten.

He didn't want to let you go, but being led on for six months had hurt more than he'd expected. He wanted you to tell him that this was just a silly joke, to come inside, cuddle and watch a movie.

Steve waited. He waited for a negation, for an I love you, Steve. An affirmation that never came as you looked at him. You felt embarrassed and he felt like you'd stabbed him.

He was the first to break the silence.

"So I guess it's over then" he croaked out, a burning ball lodged in his throat that didn't allow him to speak. Or breathe for that matter.

"I'm so sorry, Steve. I just- I didn't want to lie to you any longer. Even if I loved you, I'm not good for you. All I'm gonna do is pull you back from this great dream you have. You can't have a picket fence with me, I'll only tear it down. And you can't just put it back up, Steve" you said, taking as many steps back to get away from him. From the guilt of losing him.

"I'll put up as many picket fences as you need. I just want you" he pleaded, one last prayer. Don't go.

"I'm sorry, Steve. Please go home. You're gonna get sick" your voice a thin iron string settled in between your throat. You loved him, but didn't deserve it. Didn't deserve him.

And so Steve turned around, grabbing his broken heart off the floor. You watched him from your driveway, quiet, with his head hung low. A love like his should not have gone wasted on someone like you.

Steve reached his car door, looking at you for one last time, eyes watery and dark. Hoping, praying for your thin voice to speak up, to tell him to come back to your driveway. Tell him to stay.

Don't go.

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington blurb #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fan fiction #steve harrington x reader angst #Spotify

[collectivecloseness]

Obsessed with all your Kurt fics! Was wondering if maybe you could do something along the lines of watching a scary movie with him and rubbing against him accidentally in fear. Then it slowly turns into sex as he just moans and grinds against you? I hope that makes sense 😅 I see Kurt as a bottom but I think he could totally be a top rarely. Can this time be one of them?

Tysm cherub! I’m rly glad you like them haha!

Watching the horror film was already turning Kurt on a little. Not that he’d ever admit that to you. But you two lying on the couch like this to watch movies, with Kurt spooning you from behind as you both lay in the dark room, his arms around your body, and his crotch pressed up against your ass? Well this position usually caused a rise in Kurt down there. You, in general, always did.

You both usually enjoyed your horror film nights. But this movie you’d picked, was based around something you’d told Kurt you’d always been scared of. He thought you were so cool, for picking that one on purpose then. Kurt always thought you were cool.

Although it did give him an extra, unexpected, advantage. While Kurt sometimes would test rubbing himself against you in this position, this time, he didnt have to move first. Apparently you were finding this film that played on your personal fears scary, because every time you jumped, you launched yourself back straight into Kurt. And with no space at the back of the couch for him to go, you were bouncing against his already stiffening cock each and every time.

And then there were the moments you were waiting in anticipation for a jumpscare. Oh boy. Kurt felt you wriggling, writhing back into him, trying to push and squeeze and mould yourself as best you could into Kurt’s body, especially at this arched angle. Which meant the minute of you wriggling into him, preceded almost every thrust against his cock.

Not only was this immensely turning Kurt on. But it also made him feel protective of you, in a way. Or more so, like he should be your protector. It was really speaking to his dominant side.

“Baby, are you too scared?” Kurt asked in the quiet of the room, stroking your hair behind your head as he questioned you. Comforting you with his tucks, as he got to play with your hair, and see how scared you were in his arms right now. Just how much you needed him.

You thought his voice sounded flatter because he was tired, or unsure why you were scared, he could sometimes get like that when others were emotional in scenarios, he would seemingly be able to shove any emotions deep down for. Not that Kurt couldn’t get emotional in other ways. You didn’t quite catch the sultry hint in his voice, with the screaming in the forefront of your earshot. His touch did feel good though. You leant into Kurt more. “No. I’m enjoying it. Just hold me more Kurt please? I like that.” You rubbed your head into his hand, a bit like a cat, and you could feel his laughter bursting through his nose, as he rubbed your head. Seemingly finding it cute.

“Okay. I’m here. I’ll look after you.” Kurt responded, like something was funny. Still rubbing and petting your head. Giving you a kiss there though, humming against a vein in your skull, which was making your brain feel a bit weird, but you weren’t going to say anything in the hush.

That was until, you felt Kurt slamming his hips into you. His arms wrapped smoothly around your waist the second his hips dug in. No subtlety, and no grace or decorum. Just pounding his crotch straight into your flesh, looking down at it carnally.

“Kurt what’re you doing?!” You shriek a little, only because you’re caught off guard, you hardly notice your hand moving atop his, keeping his arm caged in around you.

You don’t realise how much your shriek helps your lover, especially with the bloody yelling from the tv screen. Kurt huffs against the back of your head, pushing you down a little as he focuses on his angle. Pressing your body into the sofa to rub himself extra hard against you, in just the right places. “You said you wanted me to look after you.” He replied simply, before flipping you over so you’re fully on your back.

And this time you can see his smirk, in between the way he licks at his lips, from your yelp at the sudden move. His hands managing to turn you over so easily. To move you about recklessly, at his will. And his eyes so amused, so hungry, at your surprised expression.

That greed soon took over his eyes though, and it was if as the tv screen flickered to a brighter colour in the room, you could tell Kurt’s eyes had somehow gotten darker.

Kurt’s hand lurched out to your clothed core. Cupping his palm around your heat and pressing there, as if to not let you go. You couldn’t help but buck up into his hand. Straight into the warmth of his palm, a small high pitched moan escaping you at the sudden touch.

“I can feel how needy you are for me here.” Kurt purred, rubbing over your cunt not like he does when he wants to serve and please you, but like he’s lewdly groping the piece of you he wants so bad. His whole aura was overpowering. And you couldn’t help but quieten down as Kurt glared above you. Your lips puckered ready for a kiss, even as your throat stopped with no words even wanting to come out. They weren’t necessary. Kurt’s dominant look persevered. “I said I was going to look after you.”

He spoke clearly, confidently, domineering. Kurt wasn’t saying this as a promise to you like one you’d asked him to keep. Kurt was saying it as a rule he had created, and would kill before letting anyone alter it, or stop him from following. Kurt would not be misunderstood, or made out to be any less powerful. This Kurt would not be called bossy, and stop tantrumming for what he wants by getting a hint of attention. You knew your Kurt. This was his time to shine, and really show off his dominant side in front of you.

Kurt shoved his hands behind your head. Accidentally getting his long digits tangled in your hair, but he moved them around until they were set locking you in from behind. He threw his leg over your body and you gasped as his weight came down, a sudden move that left you caught weak, and slightly stunned. That’s when Kurt started grinding into you. Dry humping you, even with both your clothes on, but being so close, so insanely covetous. And he was really pressing into you.

You were moaning quickly, body moving under him with each powerful thrust, as he pushed his clothed member into your mount. You could feel how rock hard Kurt was, even with all the layers. And he was resolute to shove that inside you. Masterfully unflinching. When he was like this, you always thought he’d be able to fuck you even with your clothes on. Rip a hole through both your goddamn pants with how hard he thrusts into you. Piercing the clothes from friction and stubbornness and his determination to fuck you so bad. Of course you knew it was impossible. But when he was in charge like this, you just knew to stay under him, let him work you both through it, and you simply moaned with the possibilities, of him being so good in control.

“Look at you. You’re getting all needy.” Kurt pants above you. And you know he’s talking about the fact you’re still fully dressed, but you’re digging your hands into his arms to even attempt at quietening down your whines. The fact he can probably feel how wet you are, even through those layers. Kurt was usually needy, but Kurt loved when you got needy back.

A scream filled the room, that wasn’t yours. And for just two seconds, escaping Kurt’s glowering gaze, you turned your head to the side, to see the tv. The rest of the room black, except for the glow illuminating you two in this salacious position, on the goddamn couch. Your eyes on the screen as a girl screamed at her killer.

“Don’t look at that.” Kurt snapped your attention back, hand going to your cheek after he spoke, just locking it there to cage you in even more. “Just look at me.”

You nodded, Kurt starting to move against you more again, quicker now. His hair bouncing over you as his head tilted back. A small “Fuck” leaving his lips breathlessly.

“Mmhm. Promise. I’ll look at you Kurt.” You said quietly, getting him to look back at you with a satisfied gaze in his eyes.

As Kurt’s head shot forward, you thought he was going to kiss you. But instead, he pressed his forehead against yours. Still sweet, in a way, even as you two were bouncing, and he was panting still, against your face. Kurt hummed, and you could feel his hips slowing down, thinking he was about ready to cum. But instead, Kurt pressed onto you one tiny kiss, poorly aimed to the side of your nose, before he dragged your thighs down, and started pulling your pants off you. You should’ve known Kurt in this mindset wouldn’t be done so quickly.

You helped him out, taking off your own shirt, while Kurt did his, although Kurt’s hands slapped onto your chest before you could remove your bra. You winced a little, he’d clearly been eager, but Kurt hummed as he rubbed over your breasts. Rolling them in his hands, as he kept rutting at you, this time into the back of your thigh, where he could more easily reach, instead of your cunt. Although he didn’t seem to mind either way.

Then Kurt’s mouth darted forward, and it was on your chest in an instant. He mouthed over your breasts noisily, humming in either content, or an earthly thirst for more. Kissing over them in wide open kisses, sucking the top of them into his mouth, scraping his teeth over them, biting them, flatly jamming his tongue against them. Whatever he could do, before he was ripping your bra off you.

Before you could complain with an actual shout, Kurt cut you off hastily by promising “I’ll buy you it again.” In fact, as his mouth moved down to sloppily kissing, and scraping his teeth over your bellybutton, in a feasting way simply hungry for more of your flesh, he promised to buy you five more.

Kurt managed to relieve your nipple of his mouth quickly enough, his hands aiming for his pants, and the zipper sound made a spark soar even greater between your legs. When your hands reached over to help him out his confines, he pushed them away however. Freeing himself, before moving back to press your hands together, into your chest. Kurt looked you up and down for a few seconds. Considering you, almost, as you gazed at him too. Until he finally spoke up, with a sharp “Mine.”

“Mmhm. All yours Kurt.” You promised him.

That seemed to slow down his movements a little. Soften him. And as you raised a hand to cup his cheek, you watched as his eyes shut closed, and he leaned into your touch. God he was so warm. But you didn’t get long to think, because his eyes were open again and, while slightly less steely, still very much in charge.

You watched his hand reach downwards, and you knew what he was doing. Relaxing into the couch, while Kurt started pushing himself inside you.

You could tell he was being still gentler as he did this. His hand went to your arm, supporting you, as he grazed just the tip inside. You extended your neck, tilting your chin upwards, hoping Kurt would get the message. And oh was he such a good boyfriend. He knew what you liked. Kurt immediately went in on your neck. Pressing kisses to your favourite spot of all time. Covering your neck and jaw in sloppy, nipping, deep bruising kisses. Nuzzling his mouth back and forth wildly into the crook of your neck, that made you whine right into his ear, as he pushed himself inside you. Enough so he could start fucking you, only pulling back from your neck when the wet slapping sounds of him fucking your hole began to become audible.

Kurt pressed down his bare chest on top of you, and you could feel how even, and how rugged, his breaths were, as his eyes focused in on you, fucking you like his life depended on it, on this couch. He only seemed to get this controlled when he’s dominant, and it was doing a lot for you. Raising your hand up to cup his cheek, while he just stares down at you, you feel him rocking hard against your walls, almost filling you to the point he can fuck that sensitive part deep inside, already. Kurt bites at your palm, and you only moan in response. Something that gets you bitten everywhere else.

He presses not just his chest, but his whole body weight on top of you. With you unable to tell if his eyes are lighting up or darkening, at the way your hands scratch marks into his back whenever he does so. Locking you in place with his thighs, hands creating shaped bruises into your flesh that are from passion alone. And you’re sure he’s going to be excitedly kissing all over later.

His cheek presses to the side of your head at one point. And maybe it’s just so you can feel his drool from his lips, and hear his rough breath in your ears, and stick to his sweat, all while he can so dirtily inhale at your neck, and make you feel like a piece of meat. Only increasing that feeling as his thumb presses jabs into your clit. Forceful, but not in an awkward painful way. Soon Kurt’s abusing your poor, swollen button. Swearing you off from cumming until he’s finshed fucking you. Until he says he’s filled you full with his cum, until he’s bred you properly. Stuffed so full it’ll be leaking out of you, and he won’t let anyone else touch you, since they’ll see how full of his cum you are. Kurt’s breeding kink always seemed to come more head on, when he was feeling dominant with you.

And as a woman screams, and red light fills the room from the blood splatter on screen, Kurt can feel himself unravelling as your moans turn into your own screams in unison. Your nails dig into his back as you start groaning into his shoulder, while you finally cum, with his grunted permission of “Go ahead. Fucking cum for me.”

Kurt smashes his lips into yours, and finally feels that release. Cumming so deep inside you, while he keeps thrusting his hips. Needing it all. Needing to feel your walls clench around him and keep him in tight, while you scream his name, and he gets to make you his even more by shooting his load inside you. His own pleased moans being swallowed by your lips, as he ravages yours back. Being able to fuck you through your orgasm as he keeps cumming deep inside your pussy, finally shaking on his arms a little, as he holds you, still. Finally feeling all of himself draining, and wanting nothing more than to just collapse on top of you, still inside, and finish the movie. Kurt can’t help but kiss you when he cums, even when he’s very dominant, a lot of the time. It’s just in Kurt’s nature now. Something his brain, and his heart, are just created to do.

But don’t worry. Kurt always gives such good aftercare to his baby. Once they’ve been shown how dominant he can be. He’ll make sure you know you’re his, you’re with him, for good reason! And he wants to make sure you’re feeling just as loved, actually more, than when you began. Anything you need, is yours, okay? Are you okay? He’s still so thankful for having you in his life, and so happy, in this instance, that he got to fuck you so good you nearly cried as a horror film played the score for your grand love scene :)

#I didn’t feel as good abt this one but maybe it’s bc I don’t write super dom men as much?? #idm writing dom men at all but I usually do softer dom types (maybe it’s bc I dislike overpowering men irl 🤭 LMFAO) #i do still write dom men tho loads so idk maybe I just felt off today haha #also bc I’ve written a lot of Kurt smut recently sometimes I feel like if I try to change it up it’s not as good and gets worse the more #stuff I try to do/dif ways I try to describe it ig? #but I think that just comes with writing a lot of dif pieces with the same genre in a small time period bwaha #so shouldn’t be a long lasting thing #hope y’all still enjoy anyway!! #hope this was alright! :) #citrussy #kurt kunkle #spree 2020 #anon #ask #kurt kunkle/reader #kurt kunkle x reader #kurt kunkle drabble

[rollercoasterwords]

i always find the discourse about wlw rep in the fandom sk interesting. like. i’m not gonna lie and say that it isn’t something i haven’t agreed with and gone “yeahh i do want wlw” “yeah omg why is there an attention on mlm”. it’s frustrating sometimes. esp when i was younger i distinctly remember being freshly new out of the closet (and by that time i was alr reading mlm ff) and then going to look for wlw and being kind of. disappointed. being older now, and interacting with a lot of other ppl, and understanding things more i wholeheartedly agree with ur points abt this. it’s true. it makes sense. but i can see why it’s so hard for ppl to grasp. and i understand why ppl are always always bringing up this discourse. before i had someone point it out to me in that sense like “look ff is different than the main media we consume” i hadn’t rly made that connection, bc to me, it was just media. it was entertainment, it was a silly little story just like so many id read before. and like. obviouslyyy now i see how while it may feel like it’s all the same to me, it’s not and it warrants a different type of behavior and attitude almost. but it can be hard to get to that point, even after someone points it out. and it can hard to let go to that way of thinking even after you know it’s “wrong” (i say this in quotes bc i don’t rly think it’s wrong per so but like. uninformed. or ignorant almost). there is a very fine line between the mainstream media we consume and ff but that line is hidden under layers and layers of ideas and concepts we alr have (and it’s hole only dug deeper with things like tik tok, where you see multiple multiple videos telling you every day that “we should demand more wlw rep” etc and considering it’s an app that doesn’t encourage ppl to think critically at allll) so yeah idk where i was rly going with this, but it’s just always smth i think abt when i see this discrouse.

and like side note, that’s not to say that there isn’t wlw there are so so so many great fics out there, and like you said, if you want it so desperately just simply do it yourself etc etc, but in the context of this, i think ppl cling to the idea of wanting a mega popular everyone’s read it this is the fic™️ fic for wlw abd they want the same kind of discourse and tik tok popularity and attention that mlm fics get yk? that’s why a lot of the times, the need snd incessant screaming for that drowns out the voices alr there.

yeah i mean i understand where it's coming from when people say they wish there was more "wlw rep" in the fandom and i do think that the people who act as if they need to Crusade for more wlw fic are mostly coming from a place of ignorance re: the way fanfic functions as an inherently different form of media from books, movies, etc. and i'm sure that part of it is coming from a place of wanting to feel like u can make some Real Change in the media u consume. however i do think a large part of it is also coming from wanting to virtue signal for brownie points and also knowing that stirring up controversy and acting as if u are Crusading on behalf of a Good Cause will get u more likes and views. and at the end of the day regardless of where it's coming from it is all equally annoying and equally harmful in the way that it seeks to drag fanfiction into some sort of internet profit economy. so! it's like...do i think that many of these people are just misinformed? yes, absolutely. but i will be honest and say that personally i am running out of sympathy for people who are just soooooo sad because they want more wlw fics simply because. well me myself and i when we looked around the marauders fandom and thought "hmm this could use some more lesbians" we simply wrote fanfiction about lesbians. and it's like well yes i understand that me myself and i are an immortal being with godlike power who is better than everyone but these people could still at least TRY to get on my level like c'mon now....this is perhaps one of the only forms of media where u actually have direct control over what "representation" u can find. and complaining that "there's no good wlw fic" is insulting to everyong who writes good wlw fics. not very #feminist methinks!!!

also to ur sidenote--i think this is so true! in my little foray into the tiktok comments on all these discourse videos over the last like week or so i have seen over and over and over again people going "we need an atyd but for the girls!!!" and it's like....why. PAUSE for one second. rewind. think about why u feel that it is necessary for there to be One Big Viral Fic in order for a ship to Officially Have Representation. what does that say about the way you engage with fandom. what does that say about your definition of "representation." what does that say about the metrics u are using to like....assign value to fanfics. because personally to me it signals that u have been so sucked into this weird tiktokification of fanfiction that u only think fic is worth engaging with if it's reached a certain level of virality on tiktok, which is half of what's giving way to this whole "representation" issue in the first place, because the problem isn't that people aren't writing wlw fics, it's that you aren't seeing them because they aren't one of TikTok's Top 5 Most Popular Fanfictions and you refuse to venture outside that corner of the fandom. and the snake eats its own tail once again </3

#believe it or not i actually wanted to be a little ruder in this answer lmao #not to u anon i have no problems w u i totally understood where u were coming from #i am just. annoyed by all the discourse and running out of patience for it lmao #ranting and raving #ask

[blueiight]

https://twitter.com/theleanov3r/status/1652537623930601473?t=jdx72sZyOyHuCTeyq_Jx8w&s=19

I'm happy that some Korean are standing up for amc Louis but lot of them apparently hate the casting for amc iwtv

im happy theyre out there! ive seen some of their fanfics & it seems like they have rly good content. im happy there’s an audience of fans anywhere and i hope amc is mindful of the global reach this series has. but i hate that they have to deal with the same old issue of antiblack fans tho. if the twitter translate button is correct, one of the users observes how the majority of the antiblackness toward amc louis& jacob in the korean fanbase was while season 1 aired which is something very similar that happened in the western / english speaking fanbase.. someone dug up the old casting announcement of jacob as louis back in august 2021 and the tweets was just so hateful and just confirms what another one of the users said in that tweet thread u sent me & something ive been saying for a long time. people thought making louis black was some “political correctness” or “woke” or whatever code word they use decision, when the showrunners went out of their way to preserve the fundamentals of louis’s dark human past by making a now black louis a brothel owner+ a pimp. i really do think this is just motivated by pure racism, bc brad pitt himself even said he hated playing ‘the bitch role’ & didnt even read the script when he took the job much less read iwtv or any of the books to try to get in character.. whereas jacob anderson poured his heart and soul into his character louis , read the scripts , the book iwtv & took a deep dive into the whole vc. and u can see the difference in the effort each actor gave in their respective movie / show.

#yn. #yn answers

[compacflt]

I hope you didn't think I was pointing out flaws with my question! I think your analysis and self reflection are commendable! I would not really have known much about security clearances except for the fact that I went through the process and only on a surface level.

As for the "fatal flaw" i understood it was necessary for the main conflict of the story. In much the same way that the original Top Gun uses the Top Gun trophy when none exists in real life and it would be a major problem if it did. If that was really how they were training the pilots then the cause of Goose's death would have prompted them to review the whole framework of how they teach. Even the second movie has a "fatal flaw" in the pulling of Rooster's paper's by Maverick which makes no sense (for starters, he'd have to ask someone higher up than him to do something unethical) but they needed a conflict. I agree Maverick seems OOC in TG:M

But, I'm reminded of a line in How to Make an American Quilt where one of the characters who is talking about breaking the rules in art says something like "sometimes you have to break the rules for the piece to come alive"

no anon you are so good!!! i just felt like it would be disingenuous of me to answer your question without acknowledging the elephant in the room which is the story’s incompatibility with nosy govt officials lol. And also i think I am just…idk, very disappointed with some aspects of the story that i know could be better, so i wanted to talk about it. because this fic is the first 50k+ thing ive ever finished i think it means disproportionately much to me and i am disproportionately disappointed that it’s not perfect, even though that was inevitable. it is insanely disappointing to be a “young writer” or whatever and know that your work is not capable of reaching your adult ambitions specifically because you lack the life experience to convincingly portray those adult ambitions, because that’s not something you can fix by reading more or taking a writing class etc. that gap between what I want to write (adults dealing with big adult problems) and what I’m actually capable of writing (not that because I’ve never been an adult with big adult problems) is still so disappointingly wide. like with “the house,” for instance, i literally had to ask my mom how “two friends” would go about buying a house, which should’ve been my first indication that I was about to Post Cringe On Main, but I just wasn’t thinking about what that commitment means because I didn’t have the experience to know that I SHOULD be thinking about it, if that makes sense. but by then it was too late, that was the last chapter i wrote & had already written 60k+ words where ice and mav had… “a house…” because they needed to be in the same place. It’s just disappointing to know that these are holes I dug for myself early early on because of a lack of care, a lack of forethought, a lack of maturity… etc.

But whatever, im learning from it, I’ll take these lessons & apply them to the next big project i work on & that’s how things get better. still disappointing tho. But thank you & sorry it took so long for me to answer ur first ask but it rly made me think & i love making story graphs

#as for breaking the rules #I do think i have an issue (this post too) with over-justifying myself & overexplaining #which I think again comes from an immature impulse to make sure no one sees me as a dumb little kid #like with the airplane one-shot in debriefing #i really hesitated posting it bc of 4 inaccuracies i knew were there #1. planes are made of aluminum & dont rust #2. no way ice & mav could just ‘fix up’ a wwii recon plane #in what amounts to their garage #3. you steer a plane with the yoke not the throttle #4. ice would get them both killed if he just flew like that with no training #& i was like should i mention these in my author’s note so ppl know that i know this & don’t think im dumb? #bc I had reasons 1. for the metaphor 2. for the metaphor 3. yoke is a hilariously unsexy word 4. for the metaphor #see what I mean #when adult top gun script writers have a fatal flaw it’s fine #when i do it it feels like im committing a war crime 😭 #edts notes #thank you for the ask ✈️ #asks

[dastardlydandelion]

my thoughts on fear street 1666 now that i finished scrubbing all the toilets, got to go home and watch it

holy shit. that movie. wow. 

it wasn’t as fun as the other two. didn’t employ the same campy tropes. didn’t present itself in a flourish of period typical style. while i enjoyed the first two films paying homage to classic horror tropes and making the most of the stylish side of their respective environments, i am v grateful and relieved that 1666 *wasn’t* as fun as the other two and actually presented the horror of puritan fanaticism and witch accusations more srsly. imo it portrayed that grave, twisting dread that the subject matter calls for. i appreciate that bc i think i would’ve been uncomfortable if they attempted to do smth more campy with the time period given what we already knew abt the circumstances of sarah’s death even before the film. 

more of me blathering on and on abt fear street 1666 under the cut: 

the twist actually worked on me this time. they actually got me on this one, u guys. i rly watched this franchise believing sarah fier was possessing ppl and wreaking her vengeance on the town, but this whole time it was the fuckin’ goodes. nick, i never liked u, i think ur more interesting than i did before before when u were a generic as generic gets asshole, so now ur somewhat more interesting but even bigger of an asshole than i gave u credit for. ur literally the worst asshole of assholes, ur a walking infected hemorrhoidal rectum of a human being. 

don’t get me wrong, i always thought sarah was going to be portrayed sympathetically. i never doubted that. my theory was that sarah was going to be a sympathetic villain. i thought 1666 would’ve revealed why she cursed shadyside. i figured she would’ve cursed her townsfolk for turning their backs on her, maybe, or hurting/killing hannah, or using her for her witchcraft and then getting angry if it backfired on them, or smth like that. i thought we were going to watch a story abt sarah’s descent into darkness and while she’d defo be a tragic villain, she rly would be the person behind the possessions...but it wasn’t even her. she and hannah were just vulnerable to the town’s suspicion and persecution bc they were queer women who didn’t behave the way society wanted them to behave. and they were blamed for evil actually wrought by heterosexual men in power, and when sarah realized there was no way out of it, she took the blame upon herself so hannah was spared and she cursed only the goode family?? 

THAT IS SO MUCH BETTER. FUCK. THAT IS SUCH A BETTER STORY. kudos to this trilogy for being more intelligent than it ever had to be, when it could’ve just skated on the notoriety of the fear street series, the style, and billing notable cast members. 

so yeh, i defo 100% appreciated the goode men from wealthy sunnyvale being revealed as the true villains. i actually got my wish of nick getting killed in the face. i love that sarah possessed deena to do it herself!!! and deena!! oh man, i love deena so much. she was wearing a homebrew vest to protect herself made of fear street novels + duct tape, u gotta love it. ig she wanted to prepare herself since sam stabbed her at the end of 1994. on that note, she’s v active in this film for someone who has a fresh abdominal stab wound and i mean, the situation defo calls for it, but i hope she remembered to properly dress it and take a couple ibuprofen or smth. shit, i’m gettin distracted again. okay!! 

i loved errything that went down in the mall. i adore that josh and adult ziggy got more time to shine. i was so! so! happy at martin’s inclusion on the action. he deserved that after the way nick treated him in 1994. our occupations are also p similar so i defo relate to martin on that front. i loved it all the neon and blacklight stuff at the mall. that part was v stylish, that was p cool. spraying the killers with the blood so they kill each other!! yes! that was perfect!! it was incredibly practical and enjoyable for me, as a gore fan, to watch. 

i liked the sticky note on the wall at the end from deena and josh’s dad, that he had a job interview. i wonder if this is bc the curse of shadyside has been lifted with the end of the goodes?? 

yk, i feel like now knowing what we know abt the actual evil, i gotta wonder how much re-watch value there is to be gleaned from this trilogy. for example, in 1978, nick liked ziggy and didn’t want her to die. he performed cpr on her even tho she’d been stabbed a fuck ton of times and tbvh, the chances of success of resuscitation depending on what exactly it is was ziggy succumbed to seem v slim. at first i attributed this to a suspension of disbelief bc this is fiction (and to be fair crazy do happen sometimes irl, ykw, sometimes reality can surprise u) BUT now i’m sittin here like...was the cpr successful bc nick’s deal with the devil gave him the power to do that?? did his bargaining of others’ souls and offering them up for possession grant him the ability to have some control in that situation somehow? at least more than a normal human being should?? idk. it’s a thought. 

what else, what else? 

i feel like outta the three, 1666 had the most tension overall. i was p gosh darn emo abt the relationships. deena and sam’s relationship i’ve cared abt since the beginning but the contrast of them getting the opportunity to have it and be together, in parallel to the way sarah and hannah’s ended just moves u. or, it moved me at least. sarah tells hannah they’ll go somewhere and kiss in broad daylight before kissing her in almost total darkness, and then the film ends on deena and sam kissing in the sun. i was also glad deena and josh’s sibling relationship got touched on a lil bit more. thought it was cute that she tried to cook for him and produced smth that just dead ass looks inedible. i also thought it was sweet that ziggy reunited with nurse lane. she can do that now, she can leave her house without fearing the return of the curse, and she deserves it. <3

i’m impressed with the trilogy overall. each movie easily could’ve been an r-rated goosebumps episode and imo all were certainly better than that. i feel like each film was better than the previous, but personally enjoyed each one. some things were p predictable but i think much of that is intentional. 1994 and 1978 were clearly paying homage to classic slashers and familiar horror tropes. i personally didn’t find the predictability off-putting bc i recognized what they were trying to do, and felt the quality in the other elements made up for it. i was genuinely shocked by the actual villain reveal, i personally didn’t predict that. again, i always thought sarah was going to be sympathetic and i never liked nick at all, but i didn’t suspect sarah was just. dead ass *not* going to be a villain or that he was going to be the big bad. 

really dug the style of these films. loved that we got an interracial lesbian couple who made it thru the trilogy without either the predatory lesbian trope or the byg trope happening. i liked most of the characters we got to know and the only character who *rly* grated on my nerves was the villain who got stabbed in the eye. 

gosh, i want more fear street movies!! if i had to pick one outta any of the slashers featured, i’d want to see ruby lane’s story. i would like to see this production team milking the most outta the environment in the 50s, the style of the 50s, music, and whatnot. i enjoyed nurse lane even tho she was super bad at murder, so it’d be cool to see her again and who she was before her daughter got possessed and killed 7 ppl. also, ruby sings when she kills?? 

that’s weird and creepy and neat. totally down for it. 

#fear street spoilers #fear street 1666 #fear street #sarah fier #deena johnson #nick goode #sam fraser #josh johnson #ziggy berman #ruby lane #nurse lane #martin p franklin #gosh u guys #i rly dug this movie #i rly dug the trilogy as a whole #i was hype to begin with but it exceeded by expectations #i want more

[caroloftheshells]

the twist in his house had me jumping up and down and yelling, figuratively

#carol overreacts to life #carol overreacts to movies #suuuuch a cool movie. wumni mosaku Rocks #idg the peele comparisons though. like you start out thinking it may be that variety of movie (clever & pretty upfront social horror) #but then it takes a hard left into this other thing entirely yk; which is more dreamy & personal psych horror / relationship horror #and really revolves around These protagonists at This time #& how their reliance on each other in this hostile environment is tested by their sorta opposing trauma responses #i keep rotating the title in my brain & thinking about its pertinence for both bol & [redacted] but returning to rial #and how she is the one to have to [redacted] and upend both of their possessiveness & control #both of which become part of the horror ​as she & bol turn on each other. ughhhhhh good movie good movie #also rly dug that set piece the poster is based on where it zooms out from bol at the table to the sea flashback in weird reds & oranges

[casualavocados]

i'm thinking about rereading lotr....

#its been years #come to think of it its been years since i watched them too #.....wack #//kinda rant maybe #i think i read them at a time where they rly spoke to me but i didnt know why #they dug their way into my heart and made me sob without me really getting it #and the movies were so good too i loved them #but now i know why they affected me so much? #and i saw a post that explained this in more depth #but its bc theyre about love #in the face of terrible danger and fear and evil and struggle #not about defeating the big bad #but about the little things that makes life worth living #and yknow #i think rereading them is gonna hurt #a lot #bc its a sad story #but i think im more ready for that now #k bye idk if that made any sense or whatever but i am just feeling an emotion

[poptod]

Hi you beautiful person! If you’re still taking requests then I would like to request for Ahkmenrah! Sorry if this is too long but how about y/n is a cat burglar and breaks into the museum to steal sum shit (they notice the lights on beforehand but thought that it was just the night guard). But then they notice that there’s, like, A LOT of “people” still present at the museum. They already took a few things so they go to hide in the Egypt exhibit till the coast is clear but then when they notice that the sarcophagus is wide open and the mummy isn’t there they get rly freaked out and about to leave the exhibit but run into Ahk and he’s rly confused and notices that they’re a thief and even tho he was raised to be cruel to thieves he felt rly drawn and hypnotized by y/n (it was love at first sight for him). He simps so hard that he lets them go only if they leave the stuff they tried to steal but they refuse to leave empty handed so Ahk simps again and gives them one of his pieces of jewelry to have. They’re confused but go with it then dip through the window and Ahk watches them escape into the night from the window with a dreamy look on his face. And Larry’s behind him like “wtf just happened?” Sorry again if that was too long! Please take as much time as you need if you decide to do this <3

notes: anon. ANON. i love you and i love this idea, idk why i never thought of this but i fucking adore it thank you WC: 1.6k

+

Grappling hooks––the fevered dream of a madman that worked only partway in theory, and not at all in practice. Still, you liked the look of them, and kept one seated on your belt while you used a more practical means of breaking and entering.

Very rarely did you ever break into buildings who still had their lights on. For this you would have to make an exception; the museum, which you had scouted out every day for two weeks, always had its' lights on. That would not deter you. American and British museums were essentially always corrupt in some way, unwilling to return the stolen artifacts of foreign countries. You kept that at the forefront of your mind, a little smidgen of motivation, as you jammed the window lock open.

The wind brushing against your dark coat vanished as you entered, sudden air conditioning bringing the temperature to a more pleasant 70 degrees. Hanging off the side of a building with no leverage but a small, outer windowsill had left your fingers numb, joints aching with built up pressure. You shook them out, clicking your pocket knife shut and stuffing it in one of your pockets.

For a minute you remained in the shadowed hallway, listening closely to the sound of footsteps, and watching carefully the shadows casted on the wall to your right. Your brow furrowed––that couldn't be right. The only person who was supposed to be in the museum was the night guard, which last you checked there was only one of them, and maybe the director. You could hear the footsteps of a whole crowd, the murmuring hum of distant conversation, and the vibrating beats of music coming through stereo speakers.

Taking a tentative step forward, you kept your hand poised over your knife just in case. As many times as you've done this, you can't recall any time that you've robbed a place while the owners were still inside.

You came to find out about two minutes later that while the owners are in fact inside, it wasn't them making the noise. Peering out behind the wall, you could see far off the balcony, into the entrance of the museum where a congregation had gathered. It's not... normal, though. None of them are wearing normal clothes. Actually, it looked more like they stole all the exhibits clothes, which would partly explain why all the exhibits were empty.

"This is not normal," you mumbled beneath your breath to yourself, mimicking Harry Potter's voice. Third movie.

You quickly retraced your steps, returning to the window you crawled into. Once more you went through the hallway, double checking everything, and picking up what valuables you could find in the vacant rooms. The Greek section payed off, as did the Chinese, but before you could move to the next era the night guard came walking down the hallway with a group of people in tow. He doesn't seem all that bothered by the fact that none of the exhibits are there, and that all of his friends are wearing the clothes of the exhibits.

And then you saw it.

A monster of entirely bone, whose teeth bared constantly in sharp, jagged lines. The backbones creaked and cracked against each other when its' neck moved, pulling its' heavy skull to watch the people with empty eye sockets.

Nope. Nope, nope, nope.

Where was the exit? You'd gone down two flights of stairs, up one, and down one, but you couldn't remember the order. There had to be an exit on this floor. When the group passed by you, you darted in the opposite direction, paying no attention to the artifacts as the walls blurred around you.

Your breath began to catch up with you soon, heaving your chest up and down as your legs burned. Before your body could give out on you, you slid into the next hallway, ducking behind one of the massive pillars and finally collapsing. Three minutes passed before you could breathe normally. Only then, with most of your wits back about you, did you notice the hieroglyphs your nails dug desperately into on the pillar.

More footsteps outside the long, Egyptian hallway sent you padding deeper in, till you found yourself bumping against the open glass case around a golden casket. The face, which you would've expected to be on the head, was instead cast aside as the top was open. Inside––nothing. Scraps of linen and spells written in an incomprehensible language.

"What the fuuuuck," you whispered to yourself. "What the fuuuuck..."

What the hell is going on h-

Something bumped against your back, sending you stumbling forward before you could just barely stabilize yourself. You whipped around, eyes wide as you came face to face with a man bearing an outrageously golden crown, and donned entirely in Egyptian cloth.

Entirely dumbstruck, your mouth hung open, and you said nothing as the man stared at you in the same bewilderment.

"Why do you have that?" He suddenly asked, eyes falling to the gold and lapis necklace dangling out of your bag.

You stuffed it back inside and said, "mother's."

"Yes," he chuckled, "my mother's. I was buried with that and I'd rather appreciate it if you gave it back."

The narrowing of your eyes gave away what you tried your best to keep hidden––the numerous treasures concealed in your duffel bag.

"You're robbing us, aren't you?"

You said nothing.

"Why are you stealing our belongings?"

"Why are you acting like they belong to you?" You finally replied. "They belonged to people long dead. Just because you're wearing the robes doesn't make you the Pharaoh, and – and why the fuck are you dressed in Egyptian clothes?"

"Well I was, again, buried in this. It's this or the linen and the linen reveals a little more than people would probably like. My name is Ahkmenrah," he bowed slightly, taking your gloved hand and kissing the back of it, "the Pharaoh from the sarcophagus."

"You really expect me to believe that?"

"Doesn't matter what you believe. What matters is that you return what you've stolen," he said, straightening himself out and outstretching his hand. As if you'd return what you've taken.

He waited for a good minute, and when you didn't relent, his expression grew weary.

"Do you want me to get the night guard?"

"No," you said quickly, eyes darting up in panic.

"I will let you go, free of punishment, if you return what you've taken and leave. Come back when you're not looking to steal."

"I am not leaving here empty-handed," you hissed, stepping closer to get up in his face. To your surprise (though you didn't dare show your surprise on your face) a blush began to fill his cheeks.

"I... uh.. y - oh Gods," he grumbled, shaky eyes darting all across your face but never meeting your gaze. "Fine. Fine, you – take this. If you return the other things you can take this."

He stayed rooted to the spot, but bent to pull at his skirt. At first you almost stopped him, already convinced he was about to strip down, but when he ripped at the silk your mouth hung open in silence.

"Ever learn about the history of textiles?" He asked you as he handed you the long strip of golden fabric.

You shook your head no. The cloth barely weighed anything, softer than anything you'd touched, and nearly thin enough to see through it.

"Much Egyptian and Arabic fabric is revered for the talents your people have lost to time. It's a special recipe you cannot replicate with any modern tool. This'll bring you a fortune if you find the right person," he said, cocking his head to the side as he watched you carefully. "It's gold sewn into silk."

Only a moment of thought passed before you dropped your bag, kneeling in front of the Pharaoh and pulling at the zipper. His sandals slid away from you as he gave you space, and soon you were pulling out different necklaces and combs, setting them on the floor in front of him in silence.

"I don't know where the exit is," you mumbled as you carefully pocketed the silk, moving back to your feet.

"How did you get in?"

"Through the window."

"... ah. I'll show you to one of them, then."

He snuck you around the museum, showed you how to avoid the crowds, and at each turn you memorized the path. If you ever wanted to come back for anything else, you would need to know such tactics. Soon enough he was showing you to a window a story off the ground, and though he was hesitant to allow you to leave out it, you informed him you quite adept at climbing walls.

Clambering out the window, you paused with your foot notched into a dip in the outer wall.

"Why are you helping me like this? You didn't have to do that," you asked, and though it wasn't a question you had been thinking of, there was a very sudden urge within you to have it answered. "Aren't you a Pharaoh? They hate thieves, right?"

"I.. um, well, there's... I suppose – you caught me in a good mood," he very obviously lied. You raised a single brow questioningly, but made no further attempt to pull the truth out of him.

Instead, you ducked out the window, falling quickly into the snow and rushing off into the dark of night. A moment later he heard the revving of a car, and then the squealing of tires sliding against the pavement roads. Ahk sighed softly, the tension in his chest giving way as he rested his elbow on the window's sill, his palm pushing against his blushing cheek.

"What the fuck was that about?" Larry asked from behind him. His dreamy expression immediately gave way to embarrassment.

"Nothing," he quickly insisted. "Just... being a little softhearted."

#ahkmenrah x reader #Ahkmenrah #Night at the Museum #rami malek

[faketree]

i had fettuccine alfredo for dinner and it was really good But im lactose intolerant and had extra cheese on mine im in Pain can u tell me abt ur blorbos

AW MAN. so sry :( BUT EMMM ok ill tell u Abt sum of my NEW blorbos. ERM.ok this is my friend EliSunday:)

He crazy.He rly gay AF!!!!!!! he’s a self proclaimed prophet in like Early 19th Century so he sort of Brings faith n shit To his small little town little Boston.EMMM He’s rly Odd.Crazy. Even. He dies by being plunged by a Bowling pin. The movie sort of Confused me but He wanted to Fund his little church and basically Dug himself into a littttle bit of trouble and so . The economy gets effed up and he gets So upset and that’s when The other guy beat him over the head with A bowling pin.

And OF COURSE. The riddler ^_^

You seen the movie ^ but I want him in my Hosue. Soo bad. Sry that’s all that all I wanted to mention. And he so autistic + schizo phrenic Btw.it’s ok i can say that I’m Schizophhrenic and autistic. ERM.he awesome and my Gf foreverrrr. Except he Should be in jail and never released cuz he been Super bad.Bad bad riddler. bad

This is My friend Pierre bezukhov From bbc show War and peace.Adapted from the novel war and peace. Also stars in the Musical Natasha, Pierre and the great comet of 1812 EMM he sweet ^_^ he cute in theeeee face. He’s super Lgbt. And also he straps a Police Man to a bear and throws Him into the river.He crazay. He also a littttleeee chubby And well…….Sry it makes him Look kind in the face. He’s Rich + a Count.and Russian I think. ? He’s super Weird and the people Of everywhere hate him Because he acts Odd all the time.But he so sweet forever.

#Sry these are all Paul dano characters.Been crazy abt him as of Late. #these r some of his SUPER cool roles.others well. suck. and aged badly.

[with-the-same-tattoos]

Folktale and cupboard! (I love people's stories)

folktale: what stories remind you of your childhood?

I assume this means like, comparative / nostalgic ??? It's naturally all and everything moomins related, you simply couldn't escape it here !!!! I have a particular fondness for the flooded theatre book. I have not read it since I was a kid (I should!!!) but we used to have it on casette and I feel like. It just went well with my brain as a kid. Odd small events from an odd place in an odd situation, tangled up, all confusing and so lovely because of it. I've always been extremely strong on visualization in my head, and I can still see clear as day the ways I imagined the settings, etc.

Similiarly a lot of other moomin clips.... the sorcerers diamond story is pretty stuck in my head....

cupboard: a good childhood memory

I have reeeally spotty memory? I mostly remember moments when I realized / learned smth amd those r usually attached to anxiety ; w ; i dug around and the ooone thing I remember rly fondly is following my mom around sets as a kid (she used to do theatre & movie sets) and watching her work on miniatures. She's why i'm an artsy person in general but like, she was my first major inspiration & motivation to create too. I jsut remember watching from the side when she would be focused on getting some texture right or smth and thinking like, that is the most wonderful thing in the world, I wanna experience that intense love for creation too. Not in those words, but yk. My memories of that stuff is a lot of vivid blue colors and intense lights and dark corners, stone walls and dressing room mirrors and listening to my mom joke around w other staff? And seeing people in costume. That was WILD.

Anyways I spent Most of my childhood imagining things instead of havinh real experiences i was..... just thinking a lot

#these came out very theatre themed i havent realized it was such a big thing for me as a kid but sure #OH ALSO RUSSIAN ANIMATION MASTERS VHS #A LOT OF GOOD ANIMATION CLIPS #ask #thank u !!!!!!

[lov3nerdstuff]

How long is forever?

*Tom Hiddleston x reader*

Parts: Oneshot

Words: 4.2k

Genre: flufffff

Imagine: You catch Tom's interest at Comic Con

Request: by @my-mind-was-lostintranslation I rly hope this is something you will enjoy 💗 I just never end up writing requests the obvious way 😂

______________________________

You had been reluctant about agreeing to come along. Reluctant about the entire idea of going to Comic Con, about buying tickets for way too much money, about your somewhat-friends wanting to randomly crash with some people they would surely meet instead of getting an overpriced hotel, about your one friend making you wear this skimpy green Loki dress because she thought it would go along nicely with your tattoos and skin color. And still, some demon had planted the seed of hope in your brain and thus you found yourself coming along, hoping to meet the only person at this convention you actually found any interest in. Tom Hiddleston.

You were dressed as one of his characters after all, even if not entirely by choice. Sure, you had seen his movies and shows and enjoyed his acting quite the deal, but what truly fascinated you about him was his own person. His character and opinions, smart thoughts and deep questions. He just seemed like a person you would love to get to know, for surely he was more interesting than any of your other acquaintances (maybe even than the friends you were here with… it was more of a community of purpose than a real friendship after all). And listening to Tom's panel was probably the closest you would get to spending time with a kindred mind.

Unfortunately your friends were more the anime and manga kind of people, definitely more than you were at least, and thus you found yourself going to Tom's panel alone. You weren't one of those girls who would sell their soul to sit in the front, or to ask questions… no, you were content sitting in the middle of the room and just letting life happen around you.

As an artist yourself, you had originally been fairly interested in the artwork you would get to see here, but all too soon you had been severely disappointed by the few artists who had even bothered to come to a rather small con like this at all. That someone like Tom was present for the day bordered on a miracle, really, considering the size of the convention. Maybe he had been in the region for shooting whatever film he was currently working on?

As you sat in the middle of the audience room, waiting for the panel to start, you found yourself mesmerized by the lightning situation on stage. It hit the objects in such a way that they just begged you to be turned into art… and you didn't have anything else to do anyway. So, thinking that you maybe just should've gone to the museum instead of this convention, you dug a black pen out of your bag, along with a small blank paper notebook and started sketching with a content sigh.

Once the panel started, having someone else talk first before Tom would come on, you went on to also sketch the portrait of the panel's host and the first guest, for listening was just easier while drawing. And when finally the time had come, and Tom was greeted on stage with thundering applause, you found yourself smiling to yourself as you flipped the page of your notebook to start on a portrait finally worth drawing.

_______________

Tom was tired. Very tired indeed, as he had been urged to come to the convention impossibly early despite having spent most of the night traveling and doing interviews. And now he was to go out onto the stage and smile and chat with people while pretending not to fall asleep any minute. It had been easy enough to smile and say hi and bye in a sinus curve of repetition while signing pretty much whatever people had brought, but now he actually was supposed to talk some sense, and avoid spoilers, and preferably also do some subtle and appealing PR for his newest movie. However all he really wanted to do was to have a nice cup of tea and get some sleep. But this was work, and this wasn't even half as bad as his tired brain made it out to be. He liked talking to people, to fans and interviewers and host, after all and this surely would be fun.

So he really only had to fake a smile for the first three seconds as he walked onto stage, for he had to smile for real from then on. It was a smaller convention, but the room was packed nonetheless. He enjoyed the fact that he could actually see the audience for once, and not only a black pit of murmurs and occasional flashing lights. It made the whole thing way more pleasant, and as he shook hands with everyone and sat down, he actually felt comfortable and ready to have a nice chat.

He answered some questions about the movie he was working on, had a couple laughs with the host, and then some time to let his eyes wander through the audience while the other guest was being interviewed. It wasn't a habit, really, but he liked to count the number of character he recognized from people's costumes. It was a good way to check if his pop culture knowledge was severely lacking or only minorly lacking currently.

His eyes flew over the audience members quickly but intently, and he found himself smiling in excitement a couple times whenever he spotted someone dressed as Loki. But otherwise, the crowd wasn't unusual in any way, to his eyes… Until they fell upon a young woman in a green sleeveless dress, scribbling something into a journal. Her eyes moved from the stage to the book, back and forth, again and again, as her hand moved quicker than Tom could begin to follow. She had drawings, tattoos, on her shoulders and arms, but Tom couldn't really tell what they depicted nor if they were real or part of the costume. But he could tell that, as his eyes moved on over the audience, they were drawn back to her within seconds, again and again. He tried ignoring her, scanning the rest of the audience part by part, but it was of no use… his eyes would always revert back to the girl.

She was still drawing, or writing maybe… Tom couldn't tell. But the tiredness in his brain was washed away more and more the longer he watched her, inspecting both her actions and her appearance.

The dress probably was supposed to be a costume of some kind, but not a particularly good or detailed one… more of a jersey dress than a costume created with effort. Nothing that would cause his mind to cling onto her so much.

Suddenly every thought was stilled in the depth of his mind, as her eyes moved back to the stage and found his own. It had been merely accidental on both ends, he could tell by her surprised look, but now that their eyes had locked, Tom found himself unable to tear his gaze away. So did she, and they remained entirely focused on each other in complete stillness.

"Tom? You still with us, buddy?" The host's amused voice came crashing into Tom's muted mind and he almost jumped a little as his eyes left hers to look at his fellows on the stage. Gosh, he had completely forgotten that he was still very much on public display… no sleep wasn't too kind on his brain.

"I'm so sorry." Tom replied with an apologetic, breathless laugh. "What did you say again?"

For the next fifteen minutes, Tom answered the fans' questions. Ever so often, his eyes would flick back to the girl in the green dress for a mere second before coming back to the person he was actually speaking to. It wasn't very polite, he knew that, but he just couldn't stop himself, couldn't stop his mind from returning to her whenever chance allowed him. Unfortunately he didn't meet her eyes again, and the intriguing, time stopping experience from before remained a singularity.

Why couldn't she be asking him a question? Tom would've loved to speak to her, for whatever reason. Maybe just to hear her voice. Maybe to find out why he couldn't stop looking at her, wondering about her…

The questions that were asked, as usual, ranged from the boring things people could just have googled to the slightly more interesting things such as his favorite book quotes. But yet again, there was nothing all too interesting, nothing Tom really had to focus on too much. It was rare that people asked him things he actually needed to think about, but maybe that was due to the brief nature of the convention. Question, answer, next. In under a minute. Yes, maybe it was Tom himself who was too demanding in the things that would interest him. Still, he was grateful for everyone who bothered to come to his panel and to ask him a question, no matter how boring the question itself was. Just seeing the joy in people's faces when he answered them would be enough on most days to make him happy indeed.

But today, it wasn't enough. He found that while it did fill him with joy to see people being happy about his answers, he couldn't quite be content as long as he still hadn't spoken to the girl. At least hear her ask a question… since real conversation was so rare at con.

"I'm afraid we're running out of time." The host declared sadly, drawing Tom out of his thoughts. "That was the last question."

A loud round of disappointed 'ooh's from the audience made Tom smile ever so slightly, until his eyes met the girl's once more, causing his features to relax into neutral curiosity.

"Any last words, Tom?" The host asked dramatically, laughing at his own exaggeration.

"Actually…" Tom started, thinking that at least this once he would actually make use of him being a celebrity and thus having the ability to do a great deal of things that weren't planned and that would thereby cause chaos for other people. But he couldn't help it. "Actually, I would like to ask a question too."

"A question? To… to someone in the audience?" The host rose his eyebrows and Tom nodded, upon which the former continued. "Uhm, well, go ahead then. A question from Tom Hiddleston, everybody!"

People clapped and cheered for a moment and Tom turned in his chair to face the audience, to face the girl he was so keen on getting to know. Her eyes were back on the journal, jumping back back forth between the item in her lap and Tom on the stage.

"My question…" Tom started, heart picking up speed rapidly. What was he doing here…? Causing Luke problems, most likely. "My question is for the girl in the green dress who has been scribbling in her notebook for the entire duration of this panel. Twelfth row from the back, right in the middle."

The spotlight that had previously been fixed on the audience microphone moved over the crowd, until it halted right on the mysterious girl Tom meant to talk to. She looked up from her notebook immediately, looking around herself in mild panic first and then staring right back at Tom like a deer in the headlights.

Tom's stomach dropped, twisting in nervousness… he hadn't meant to make her uncomfortable, hadn't thought about putting her on display like that. Gosh, he really should've put more thought into this, he usually put way too much thought into everything… but now he had to follow through with it either way. What did he want to ask again…? Her eyes fixed on his had his heart skipping multiple beats and his mind fall silent for a moment… until he remembered that everyone was staring at him expectantly. He still hadn't come up with a question.

"Alright, my question for you is…" He paused very briefly, wondering how he could find out who she was with only one single question. But then again… maybe he only had to find out if getting to know her would be worth the trouble. "How long is forever?"

_______________

Murmuring erupted in the audience room around you, and your heart beat so fast that it almost jumped out of your ribcage. Was this really happening? Everyone was looking at you… some people were even filming the whole thing. And everyone was waiting for your answer. Great… How long was forever indeed? Right now, every moment that passed with Tom looking at you felt like an own eternity. That's when it clicked in your mind.

"Sometimes, just one second." You replied loud enough to be heard all the way to the front, actually pushing yourself to get over your nervousness. Easier said than done… you felt like fainting. Luckily you were sitting already, otherwise your knees just might have given in. And when Tom started smiling at you widely a second later, your insides turned into a mushy goo of nerves and excitement and tingles.

"Thank you." He said with the most adorable expression, and you bit your bottom lip to keep from grinning. Surely, you had noticed how he'd looked at you a couple times throughout the panel, but you had thought you'd imagined it. That he had looked at everyone that way.

But when your eyes had met, it had sent a bolt of liquid lightning through your veins, flooding your body with a new kind of excitement. Then he had gone on to say he meant to ask one single question to someone in the audience, and you had been sure it wouldn't be to you. Obviously you'd been wrong about that.

Almost in a haze, you observed how the host thanked Tom and the other guest for coming, before ushering both out of sight. The lights on stage went out, the ones in the audience room brightened, and people around you started to leave as if your heart hadn't just almost exploded.

Well, that certainly had been something. Didn't happen to you every day that people wanted to quote Alice in Wonderland with you, and even less that someone actually talked to you willingly, and still even less that this someone was a person you actually wanted to talk to as well. And yet even less that the person happened to be Tom Hiddleston. You closed your eyes for a moment to calm down.

Now that the adrenaline was slowly letting you breathe normally again, you flipped your notebook shut and stuffed it into your bag together with the pen, wondering why exactly he had asked YOU, out of all people, THIS question, out of all the things he could've asked. Your friends would never believe this.

Once you felt like you could actually walk again, you rose to your feet and made your way to the exit, only to be stopped by a hand on your shoulder.

With a frown you turned around, believing you might have lost something maybe, only to find a man in a suit standing in front of you. Your frown deepened.

"Excuse me, but you're the girl Tom asked that odd question, right?" He asked politely, withdrawing his hand from your shoulder the second you turned around.

"It wasn't an odd question, it was Alice's question to the white rabbit. But yeah, that was me." You replied before you could stop yourself from being a smartass, looking at the man curiously. He wore one of those badges that gave him access to the VIP and backstage areas… obviously he belonged to the staff. The suit alone was a poor indicator of that, after all… someone in a suit at Comic Con could also just be a man in black, or whatever incarnation of the doctor or anything really. His suit looked too expensive to be a costume though.

"Would you mind coming to the VIP area with me? Tom, that nut, begged me to do whatever it takes to get you over there and I really don't want to have him running around out here himself. Who knows what mischief he may cause..." The man sighed with a small smile and you felt your cheeks heating up. Tom wanted to talk to you. For real. What?!

"Uhm… Of course, I mean… sure?" You replied insecurely, and the man in the suit sighed in relief before walking ahead and motioning for you to follow. Three minutes later you had passed on into a different hall and ventured past a couple security guards, finally coming to an area that was completely closed off to the public. You felt only minorly nervous now, and mostly curious. Without a thousand people staring at you, it was way easier to think.

The man in the suit led you towards a group of people standing in a loose circle, talking and laughing. You actually recognized most of them from movies or TV shows as you quickly went over their faces, looking around until your eyes fell upon Tom. As he saw you approaching, his eyes lit up and he smiled in your direction.

"You owe me." The man in the suit said to Tom as you came to stand in front of him at last. "Don't do anything stupid."

"I would never!" Tom replied to him with a grin, upon which he rolled his eyes.

"I'm keeping an eye on you, Hiddleston." The man grinned back as he turned to leave again.

"That's what I'm paying you for!" Tom called after him, laughing and shaking his head to himself before finally looking at you with a small smile. "Hi."

"Hey." You replied, unable to keep from smiling yourself. "Did I answer correctly?"

"Oh, you did for sure. Don't worry."

"Good." You chuckled, looking to your feet for a second and then back at the man in front of you. Gosh, he really was too handsome for his own good.

"Am I making you nervous?" He asked reluctantly, giving you an almost concerned look.

"I'm not starstruck, if that's what you mean." You replied easily, actually not feeling nervous at all for once. "I'm just wondering why I'm here."

"Because I'm curious about you." Tom smiled, and you could swear that he was blushing a little bit. It looked rather adorable and your heart skipped a beat. "What's your name?"

"I'm Y/n." You replied lightly, taking in all the small details about him that you hadn't been able to see from the distance before.

"Y/n… that's a lovely name. I'm Tom."

"Yeah, I know." You laughed, biting your lip to keep from grinning too widely. Whether he was trying to make you relaxing by humor or if he really was just a dork, you found yourself to be comfortable with him.

"Of course you do…" He laughed too, looking down to the ground and shaking his head to himself. Oh, he was definitely blushing now, and it was freaking adorable.

"You observed me during the panel, didn't you?" You asked calmly, trying to ease his embarrassment a bit by changing the topic.

"I did indeed." He gave you an apologetic smile as he motioned for you to take a seat on the couch, before sitting down across from you. "I just couldn't help it."

"And here I was, thinking I'm making things up." You chuckled.

"What were you scribbling in that notebook the entire time? If you don't mind me asking..." He inquired curiously, eyes searching and finding yours. Somehow they held the power to stop time for you and leave you feeling completely mesmerized. Tom seemed to experience a similar thing, for he only kept looking at you while you looked back at him for a second bearing your own forever. Until someone dropped something on the concrete floor very loudly, making both of you jump.

"I… I was just sketching some random objects, some people…" You finally replied as you found your words again. "Nothing special."

"So you're an artist? Here at the convention?"

"Yes, and no. I am an artist, but not in a million years famous enough to be invited to con." You laughed, taking in the sincere interest in Tom's expression. It'd been such a long time since anybody had looked at you like that...

"May I take a look at today's work?" He asked with so much hope that there was no way you could've said no to him. Whatever it was he would ask of you.

So you handed him your journal, and he flipped the pages open at your bookmark. That would be the portrait you sketched of him.

"Wow, this is amazing…" He remarked, frowning as he focused entirely on the drawing for a moment. "You did this in, what, fifteen minutes?"

"Yup." You shrugged, feeling your cheeks heat up yet again. "I mean, you're too tempting not to draw."

Tom's eyes shot up from the page to meet yours as he pulled up one eyebrow and grinned at you, while you only now registered what you had said, closing your eyes and biting your lip in embarrassment.

"I just meant that with you as a sitter, every portrait would look good." You tried to make it sound right, only to find Tom still grinning at you in amusement.

"Every portrait that is painted with feeling is a portrait of the artist, not of the sitter. The sitter is merely the accident, the occasion. It is not he who is revealed by the painter; it is rather the painter who, on the coloured canvas, reveals himself." Tom spoke softly, and your skin tingled pleasantly at the warm depth of his voice.

"Oscar Wilde, nice." You smirked at him, causing his eyes to light up yet again.

"You enjoy literature?"

"Probably just as much as art."

"Literature is art though, wouldn't you say?"

"It is indeed." You replied softly, smiling. "Maybe that's why I enjoy it so much."

For the next hour, or maybe rather hours –who could tell how much time passed when so lost in each other's captivating presence?– you and Tom stayed sitting on that couch, ignoring everything and everyone outside of your conversation. Talking to him was so much more than you had ever imagined, so utterly intriguing and captivating… You had completely fallen for him before you knew.

"Y/n…" Tom started, velvety voice wrapping around your senses like liquid sin. "I…"

He was interrupted by an assistant stepping up to the couch hastily, letting Tom know that he needed to get to his signing table ASAP, being twenty minutes late already. Your heart fell upon those words, more than you would've assumed, as it meant that you would have to leave too. That the little time you had with Tom had come to an end. But you wouldn't be so foolish as to assume that any of this would lead to anything more than a nice memory.

With a sad smile you couldn't really brighten up, you rose to your feet, urging Tom to do the same.

"It was truly lovely meeting you, Tom. A dream." You said gently as you stood right in front of him, the assistant having left to be of use elsewhere.

"It is your dream. You decide where it goes from here." He replied in the same soft quiet, looking down at you in both affection and reluctance. "I'm afraid I find it rather impossible to part from you. What are we to do about that?"

"You will go your way and I will go mine… And by tonight you won't remember my name, my face or my words anyway. I'm one in a million, a passing star in an entire universe of equals." You smiled at him with a heavy heart, meaning your words to be encouraging rather than saddening. "While you, Tom, you contain multitudes all by yourself."

"I'm your equal, Y/n…" He protested lightly, frowning with an almost shy smile. "I want to be."

"You do?" Your eyes widened as gentle a shiver ran down your spine.

"Of course." His smile widened for a moment, and his eyes flicked down to the small gap between you very briefly before he looked back to your eyes and let his fingers brush gently against yours. The minimal touch left your skin ablaze in an instant, scorching liquid heat running wildly through your veins. Your breath hitched, and his smile widened even more. "I have to go to my signing now, or Luke will have my head. But I'm refusing to let you go, and I would be the luckiest man in all those multitudes if you would wait for me here. I'm gonna be all yours once I return."

With your stomach in pleasant coils, and your heart in his hands already, you didn't even need to think before nodding with the happiest smile. "I will be here. How long does the signing take?"

"Sometimes, just a second, my dear." He grinned at you, giving your hand a light squeeze before jogging off to where the man in the suit was waiting for him with a roll of his eyes and a smirk. And as you watched Tom leaving, winking at you once more before he was out of sight, you already couldn't wait for his return.

______________________________

General Tag List:

@its-remy-not-ratatouille @wegingerangelica @thidls12333 @tomstoobeautiful @dreary-skies-stuff @averyhill4445 @wiczer @lotus-eyedindiangoddess @theweirdlunatic @caretheunicorn @kthemarsian @lady-of-lies @sadly-falling-through-wonderland @strawberrysandcream @noplacelikehome77 @theoneanna @mishaandthebrits @mygodisloki @i-am-a-mes @nonsensicalobsessions @exygon @hiddles-lobotomy @rjohnson1280 @annwhojumps @spookycatqueen @salempoe @headoverhiddleston @fanfiction-and-stress @createdfromblue @halszka-potter @thecreatiivecorner @themusingsofmany @inthemarvelvoid @from-hel-i-with-love @kinghiddlestonanddixon @scorpionchild81 @foodthatsgoodforyoursoul @crystal-28 @adefectivedetective @lokis-girl-in-mischief

If you would like to be added to my general tag list, tell me in the comments 💗✨ also, I would greatly appreciate some feedback! Hugs to all you lovely people 💚

#tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction #Loki #loki of asgard #loki (marvel) #loki fanfic #loki odinson #loki #loki smut #tom hiddleston x you

[homefryboy]

Lemme hear your dragon ball takes

Here’s some of my hottest takes on DB (warning, HOT):

-Goku and chichi should rlly get a divorce. like, right now lol

-characters a lot of ppl like but I don’t rlly care for: Raditz, 18, hit, tien, launch

-characters I like but no one else gives a shit abt: King Kai, giru, paragus, Dr. Gero, King cold, fat Buu, i guess kefla

-I care way more abt a character’s, well, character than their power level/potential to be powerful (hence why I love Gohan but don’t rly care abt Goten, Trunks or Uub)

-if only for their brevity, none of the arcs in GT were below mediocre (or upper-tier bad w’ever) AS A WHOLE

-I like Frieza and all, but I wish he would die already and stay out of this franchise...he had his time

-as a matter of fact I wish this franchise would end and maybe only do movies/OVAs from now on bc they have dug a deep ass hole

-some of the dub voices fit better than the sub voices...I said SOME

-Super should’ve been a slice of life anime (hence my king of the hill AU)

-“canon” doesn’t matter/mean anything in this series and everyone needs to chill out

:)

#ask #long post #holy crap what have i done

[rockettransman]

MANY THOUGHTS ABOUT ROCKETMAN

I HAVE SO MANY! HERE WE GO!

prelude: i went into this movie pretty jaded and not thinking i was gonna like it. in my head, i got john lennon and elton john confused. i was thinking it was about john lennon. “oh god, they made a movie about that prick?” further, i was already dreading it because they play EJ’s hits on the radio at work all the time, and frankly i was fucking sick of tiny dancer and im still standing. when i watched the trailer i was like “aw geez, elton john sings these? damn, i was hoping i could tolerate him at all.” so. not many high hopes for this movie.

that was until i was on a six hour flight from boston to portland, oregon, and i was delirious with pain and boredom. i was sat in the middle of a father and daughter, and so i really didn’t wanna pull out my laptop and get in their space. reading the subtitles from the office off the airplane tv made me sick. the lights were off and it was 2 am, so no reading. i. was. BORED. and then, i saw someone watching something in the row in front of me. where i was sitting i got a whole view of their screen. oh, they were watching that elton john movie. they didn’t have subtitles on, so i could only take from visual and context clues what was happening. it looked flashy, and oh-- that man just stared lovingly, tenderly into another man’s eyes. oh shit. oh yeah. elton is gay. 

now i’m hooked. if i’m anything, i’m a trans man in a desperate search for a complex queer romance movie. i wanted something that would pull on my heartstrings, that would wreck me emotionally with a high reward. suddenly elton is staring at himself in full garb, putting on and taking off his glasses. smiling then frowning. glasses on. smile. glasses off. scowl. oh he’s in distress. oh, is he snorting coke? okay, cool, tight.

from here on out, i watch the movie with (no audio) the predisposition that elton is in severe distress, dealing with drugs and self-sabotage all because his feelings and attraction towards men are confusing and frustrating and he doesn’t know how to cope with them. is he in denial? does he hate himself for it? does he try to make himself attracted to women? obviously, i was incorrect. elton was pretty secure in the fact that he was gay in his personal life. 

i think about rocketman for days until my flight back to sarasota. i decide to watch rocketman on the plane back instead of renting it. but for some reason, my goblin brain told me to rent it, and i did. but i ended up just watching it on the plane anyway.

i was disappointed. really, kinda bummed about it. every article and review said it was R for a reason. there was plenty sexual content and drugs to do elton’s real life comparison justice. in the movie i watched, i saw none of it. there was some drinking of alcohol, he took pills, it was implied he snorted coke. i saw no kissing, no intimacy, not even a tender hand on a cheek or embrace between elton and another man. this movie was praised for being so groundbreaking! for representing so much of what elton’s life was really like, with drugs and sex and all that. and now that i thought about it, i heard not one curse word. “bloody” was tossed around a lot, but that is used as an inflection. and during the pool scene before he throws himself in, when he meets john at the deck, he spits something about “his secretary shagging him in front of the pool boys.” that had me in utter confusion. there... was no one there with john? he was just sitting there? must’ve been something i missed.

SO IT TURNS OUT THE AIRPLANE’S VERSION OF THE MOVIE WAS HEAVILY CENSORED. i watched the real thing when i got home yesterday and was FLOORED by the differences in the same movie i had just watched. in the scene where elton remarks he’d like to change his name, they completely edited out the character behind him peeing into a glass bottle. they also cut out the scene where elton is staring at the performer, being yelled at to close the door, and the kiss where he’s pinned against the wall. holy fuck. i realized when i saw that, i had missed something MAJOR. this meant i was missing some MORE major explicit, probably important-to-the-plot-and-character-development stuff. oh, now i was excited. 

(we could talk all day about the fact that a single kiss between two men was cut because it was deemed “too explicit”, and in a movie about elton john being the ultimate irony)

the sex scene AND take me to the pilot were completely missing in the airplane version. i had no idea this song existed! oh my god, it was a banger! i cried tears of happiness during the song. holy shit. the tense energy between he and john, standing there silhouetted by the window, and then all of a sudden they’re all over each other, fingers tangled in hair, moaning into each other’s mouths, squirming, trying to get as close to each other as possible. this is what i wanted. this is what i was looking for. not because i was looking for something “hot” or “dirty.”’ i wanted an intense sex scene because then i knew it was real. i wanted the desperation, the nerves, the tender way they cradled each other, and how they went to town on each other. it was elton’s first time being intimate with a man, and it was such a nerve-wracking, intense, lustful, desperate moment. taron and richard absolutely nailed it. The swaying and the leaning into each other, the grabbing and nuzzling and all of a sudden they’re all over each other... it honest to god moved me. not to sound too “grew-up-baptist”, but sex, especially the first time you have it is so special and intimate and personal and important (imo). i know all the times i’ve had sex, it was a very, very special moment to me, and i wholly and completely trusted my partner then. i was so happy elton could find security and love and a heckin good time in bed with another man. it must’ve felt so freeing.

This was between two men! In the smack dab of the AIDS crisis in like 1975 or some shit! If being queer is this fucking tough in 2019, imagine what it was like in 1975!! MILLIONS of people were left to die by eat-shit Raegan who say by and said “aw that’s cute.” MILLIONS of people died for loving who they love!! That’s fucked man!! Seeing a triumphant moment like this in the middle of what was happening and what it could mean for Elton and his career just rly got me ya know

my entire perspective of the movie changed from then on. i was excited to see what else i had missed. in fact, some of the songs weren’t bad. maybe i’d like some of elton’s stuff after all?

i missed the scene in the closet. on the airplane, he followed john into the closet and shut the door. the scene cut. but in the real version, suddenly john pinned him against the wall, mirroring the scene of the first kiss i missed, and elton lamely stutters he wants dinner with him, not a sexual act john was certainly looking for, and in the next moment he was hungrily snapping at his finger. i missed exactly how much coke elton snorted. i missed entire scenes and nuances that provided so much to the story. man, i was angry i missed all this. i was cheated.

when i finished the real version, my perspective on the movie, and elton, and his music, had spun an entire 180. i dug it. i listened to rocket man on repeat during the entirety of my forty minute run. i fell asleep listening to the soundtrack. i woke up today listening to it, and have been through the whole day. i have not been able to get this movie off my mind. im watching it for the third time right now.

WELCOME TO THE THIRD POINT OF THIS POST!

if you made it this far, thank you. what i wrote feels so important to me. someone needed to hear it. I WANNA TALK ABOUT THE ENTIRE ROCKETMAN SCENE. I have PTSD with psychotic features. This means that under the right triggers, i hallucinate, visually or auditorily (is that a word), things that aren’t there. sometimes they’re scary, connected to my past trauma, but sometimes, they’re hazy outlines of good people who i think i know. i also deal with all the lovely things that come along with ptsd, including dissociation. pretty much any and everything can trigger me in a specific way. the pool scene was incredibly difficult to watch. seeing a little boy playing piano underwater, him sinking and hovering and singing along, and people slowly descending, dancing in the water until they retrieve him. the vision snaps apart and holy fuck elton is in trouble. (as an aside, that’s one of my favorite affects of film: the protag is under the influence of something, whether it be a hallucination, drugs, in a deep fantasy, or just otherwise a storytelling device, and he is in imminent danger. the audience is aware he is in imminent danger. the protag, however, is cool and chillin and hanging out, not aware or bothered, and maybe this is where a major character arc beat hits. in an instant, they’re pulled out of it, and we--the audience and the characters--are hit with how dire the circumstances really are.)

Suicide is a super sensitive subject to me. when he mumbled “i’m going to fucking kill myself” and plunged into the depths, my throat constricted. it was a difficult few minutes, but i held my breath, gritted my teeth, and paced myself through it. despite the sheer terror and panic that was racing through my brain, the entirety of it was so beautiful. the bright blues, whites, and blacks of the pool lighting and bubbles decorating him, the flow of his--forgive him, i don’t know if there’s a cultural name--outer garment, how curious and confused he looked as he watched his younger self do something he did now, and the people twirling through the water, reaching out, and eventually snatching him up until we’re suddenly in the present--dude, the cinematography of the entire first verse is so, so breathtaking. the scene in the ambulance and getting his stomach pumped was a bit too graphic for me (i could feel a flashback/hallucination creeping on; sometimes i can’t tell them apart.) but it was all done so smoothly. when they lifted him up, spun him around, undressed and dressed him all in one fluid motion, i lost my fuckin mind. i rewound it several times to just watch that sequence. the pain, reluctance, and exhaustion in his face right before he was handed his bat and exuberantly entered the stage was so intense it was palpable. my heart ached for him deeply. it’s allll about putting on a mask of being truly happy and well, when just before that, he had tried to fucking kill himself. how fucking heavy is that shit?

the downward spiral kept me on the edge of my seat. honky cat was funky as hell, and i loved the little tiny moments and gestures towards each other. maybe john and elton truly cared for each other for mere heartbeats before it all went south. he was hurting so bad and ruining everything and in such denial i wanted to throttle him by the shoulders to scream “LOOK WHAT YOU’RE DOING! YOU BIG FUCKING IDIOT!” he was constantly suffering, doing more coke and drugs than i thought a person could keep in his system. the suicide attempt, the fantastic Dodgers show, the night and day between his outward appearance and his actions, all of it was so gripping. the group therapy medium through which the story was told was insanely cool, too. i thought at first it was a bit cheesy, but it worked. i loved that he confronted everyone who had hurt him, and who he had hurt, and reconciled. i loved that as the major plot beats went on, his clothes eventually toned down in loudness, mirroring how the story was going along in real time. he went from having an explosive outburst, to levelly confronting his parents, and firmly insisting they not treat him like that anymore. they didn’t have the right. we could see how he’d grown through several different literary elements. the fact that it was laid out so plainly really helped me, someone who is dumb as fuck and constantly misses nuances like that.

it’s so disheartening to see elton’s first love was someone who was aggressive, non-interested, and who refused to listen to him.

(im at the pinball wizard scene, and holy shit this tune fucks)

at the end of the day, when i had thought the movie fell through so many expectations, i watched the real, authentic version and was so, so happy with how it turned out. it was much more honest than what i had thought it was. when the credits rolled, and it said he and his husband David Furnish had been happily married for 25 years, the tears really started coming. Elton did it. He survived through all the shit he put his body through, all the heartache and loneliness and terrible isolation and suffering, and he won. He got what he always wanted. A man who loved him deeply, purely, passionately, and properly. 

i haven’t shut up about elton john for days. i’m kinda baffled how something gripped me so intensely, when i had written it off as stupid just a day before this. thank you for reading. i’m sure i forgot a lot of things i wanted to express, but hopefully i got something across. let me know if you read this, please. if you made it all the way down here, i owe you like $5. drop me your venmo.

thank you for reading. this movie touched me in a way i didn’t think was possible. thank god for elton john. thank god for his perseverance. thank god for his story, giving me and millions of others hope that happiness will come. recovery is possible. healing is possible. you just need to reach out first. thank you and goodnight.

#noah.txt #rocketman #whew this was a long one #thanks for reading so much #rocket man #11:01 pm #i started writing when the movie started #and now were at the rocketman scene lmfaoooo it been over an hour of writing #im queer and deep in my feelings #taron egerton #elton john #reggie dwight #david furnish #burnin out his fuse up here alone #what else do i tag #bernie taupin

[traumadumpling]

Ten fave movies

@batmatt0072 tagged me to share ten of my fave movies and I rly dug the way he used gifs for his so I'm gonna be a lil copycat and do that.

I'm all over the place and I know I'm forgetting some but these are the ten I thought of first 💕

@petty-davis @mad-again @jn-thoughtss @rafzombie @whiskey2theveins @notenright show me what you're into

[notribs]

hello hello ! it is may again and i... am still 20, using she/her, and in the eastern standard timezone. i can’t say that’s changed in the amount of time between intros. anyway, i do want to say that i like this gif because i feel like it.............. is an accurate representation of ribs at........... almost all times.

‹ TREVANTE RHODES, HE/HIM, CIS MAN, BISEXUAL. › DAVID “RIBS” SHAFFER is the TWENTY-EIGHT year old from EMERYVILLE, CA. when a friend asked them what they thought of the manor they said, ❝ IT LOOKS LIKE SOMEWHERE JAMIE LEE WOULD BE LURED INTO. ❞ they claim ANY HORROR MOVIE WITH JAMIE LEE CURTIS IN IT is their favorite scary movie, and if they were to die in a horror film they would EXPLAIN TO THE KILLER THAT THERE WAS NO WAY HE MET THE CRITERIA FOR THE ‘FINAL GIRL’… JUST TO BE KILLED IN THE MIDDLE OF HIS SPEECH. their fears include HALLUCINATING, PARALYZATION and FIREWORKS, and they don’t know we know, but… HE MADE MONEY AS A DEALER WHILE HE WAS STILL WAITING FOR THE BAND TO TAKE OFF. hope they enjoy their stay. ‹ MUSE B from STRESSED OUT. ›

QUICK FACTS:

full name: david “ribs” isaiah shaffer

date of birth: december 1, 1992

*does not perfectly reflect the below Big Three zodiac chart because that’s so much math

zodiac big three: sagittarius sun, capricorn moon, pisces rising

gender & pronouns: cis man & he/him

sexual orientation: bisexual

occupation: drummer + backup songwriter + history of drug dealing

the song i listen to on repeat while i write the intro: “make or break” - bugzy malone

BACKGROUND INFO:

triggers: violence, mentions of drug dealing, very very very brief mention of self-harm (not the product of a mental illness which is why i forgot to include this until i looked at it again this morning - the product of wanting to keep a lie), very very brief mention of guns and fire in the ‘fears’ section

born to a very loving family bc i need a sunnier background hasfkljwas 

david was never EVER academically inclined. he’ll tell you it’s because he just wasn’t interested and was too involved in music and boxing, both of which will be gone over soon, but that wasn’t entirely true. he was also very busy working odd jobs days and nights as a kid and days and nights at successful businesses when he was 16+ (see: papa john’s)

his parents did own a music shop! they were clearly doing their part! but, in the digital era and the era of guitar center, they were only getting so much traction. they were also much too calm about it, at least outwardly, so david felt as though he needed to help.

but it is true that he spent a lot of time practicing music and boxing! as just mentioned, his parents owned a music store and were both very musically inclined. they taught him how to be, at the very least, INTERMEDIATE at as many instruments as possible. he can now confidently say that, if the band ever needed it, he could play the guitar, piano, bass, or saxophone. 

that being said, his instrument of choice was the drums. he began using jazz drummers, as well as various hip-hop beats, as his inspiration. his original inspirations were buddy rich, gene krupa, chico hamilton, art blakey, and the beats of grime and 90s rap.

it shows.

when he ventured into other genres, however, he began taking inspiration from nick mason, john bonham, neil peart, keith moon, ginger baker, karen carpenter, and ringo starr 

(i have a music theory + history lesson for you if you think ringo is a bad drummer ok - he was a “songwriter’s drummer,” which is much more important to being a drummer in a band than being technically skilled or being able to show off with complex patterns and, thus, overshadowing the song. that’s why the beatles continued asking ringo to play the drums on their songs, even after they broke up. john lennon never said “he’s not even the best drummer in the beatles” - a radio dj made that joke and people started taking it literally. love that.)

(also the same goes for nick mason but his drumming is rly only brought up when he’s brought up since pink floyd isn’t as talked about as the beatles)

ALSO!!! i have decided to be passionate about karen carpenter because girl won a 1975 poll that pit her against john bonham for best drummer and he got so mad and said she couldn’t last ten minutes with led zeppelin. the following is just alleged, but oh my god i hope it’s true: then she proceeded to compliment his drumming, say that she thinks it’s all very subjective, then got behind her set and played “babe i’m gonna leave you” while singing and not missing a single note. we have decided to stan forever.

he also took up boxing. as a kid, he was just practicing and taking any excess frustration out. when he turned 14, however, he found an opportunity in an underground circuit. he started fighting against other people, for real, and would be paid if he won the fight.

so: school from 8a-3p, drum practice from 3:30p-7:30p (i know), family from 8p-10p, boxing from 11p-2a.

his parents knew he boxed, but didn’t know it was as dangerous as it was. they assumed there were more safeguards in place..... but boy was bringing in a LOT of money for there to be a lot of safeguards in place. because of this, david NEVER let them see his matches.

when he was 16, he’d broken his ribs during one of the fights and refused to see a doctor over it. what did he say happened when his parents could TELL something was wrong? he said that he’d been mugged and beaten up. to support this theory, before he ‘showed’ it to them, he dug into himself with a knife to make it look like the muggers had a switchblade.

from there on out, he made everyone call him “ribs”

did his parents ever wonder where his excess income was coming from? DEFINITELY. he told them that, yes, his MINIATURE matches did bring in some money, but the rest of the money came from tips!! because people are clearly that generous!!

he also never showed them the full amount. he’d only give what was necessary, not out of selfishness, rather to keep his secret and save them from worrying about him. he put it in a savings account.

it should also be addressed that, during this time, he became friends with who would become the guitarist in his future band, joakim. he witnessed joakim fight a homophobic teenager and desperately wanted to join in... but his ribs were broken ahflskd

he continued boxing, even after being introduced to joakim’s college friend, gabe - the future singer of their band. that being said, they began jamming with each other and played in a few local circuits.

his parents were very encouraging of this and told him that he should go for this as a career opportunity. 

can you tell they were idealists?

he wanted to... but it was very impractical. by now, however, he was out of school (and he never went to college). his parents let him continue living with them since they were under the belief they were short on cash and it’d be difficult for him to find an affordable apartment under the papa john’s salary.

he decided to take his parents up on this... but, while he was waiting for his band to find success, their music store was closed down. as they both began looking desperately for new jobs, he realized that papa john’s and the fighting payment wasn’t quite enough anymore... so he started selling drugs.

he doesn’t keep his fighting a secret anymore, but he does keep his drug dealing a secret. he fears that it’ll perpetuate stereotypes.

during one of his band’s gigs, he and the others met their future bassist - the missing piece - rory. she was marginally younger than they were, but she was an extremely talented bassist and songwriter, so the lineup was finally complete and devil’s wine was formed.

when they began skyrocketing, he quit drug dealing. he also stopped the dangerous boxing, although he continues to... box safely. he began sending money back home after they really started succeeding. his mother got a teacher licensure in music and his father got the opportunity to own..... a guitar center.

if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.

VERY IMPORTANT: uses a pearl custom kit, istanbul cymbals, aquarian heads, and vic firth sticks.

that was very important.

PERSONALITY INFO:

literally obsessed with jamie lee curtis. watching her movies has also made him very genre-savvy. 

would genuinely die for her.

is the epitome of bob belcher’s “oh my god.” in his band. they get off topic during practice/recording just ONCE?? queue “oh my god.” and the gif above.

isn’t necessarily ashamed of his past dealings (literally) - like, joakim knows - but is genuinely afraid of perpetuating the stereotype of the dirty black boy. he’s open about the rest of his life, but he’s convinced that if people learn he used to sell drugs, he would be setting people back. having a black drummer in a rock band that’s on the radio? he needs to keep up appearances!!

never wears shirts during concerts. has to show off his ribs and also drumming, with a bunch of lights directly on him, is an extreme exercise and guaranteed sweat machine. dresses like bugzy malone otherwise.

ahflskjd again,,, like adrian,,, look @ his chart ig alhkfjd

FEARS:

hallucinating: he hates not only the idea of losing his mind, but also the idea of having a skewed view of reality after he really... saw reality, you know? his uncle had schizophrenia and, while he rarely saw him, the thought of going through what his uncle had/has to go through terrifies him.

paralyzation: this was a constant worry of his during his boxing matches - he was terrified someone would wind up taking out a firearm and would shoot him into a state of paralysis. not to mention, all limbs are required for both drumming and boxing.... so.

fireworks: less deep than the others. the house next door to his was set on fire due to a firework display being too close. while no one died and most of the house was salvaged, the idea of losing anything he has is terrifying to him. also the sounds they make remind him of guns so?

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

ok,,, so unlike adrian,,, he lived in california,,, a state many other characters lived in. while some cities in california can be like,,,, seven hours away,,, IT’S STILL AN IMPROVEMENT, so i’ll list a few past connection ideas too!

fans

people who hate his music

people who’ve seen one of his matches

old friends

someone who was constantly in his parents’ music store

exes

fwb

ons

???? im bad at connections!!!!!! but im down for brainstorming and/or working off of urs!!!!!!

#manor:talk #will be updated when more is figured out w his subplot ofc!!