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luxeberries · 2 years

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dustin is genuinely such a good, sweet person and i feel like its often overshadowed by his bitchy nature (which i love sm) and i just...i think about him and dart so much because of what he says to mike in defense of himself: 'we have a bond because he trusts me' and he even goes as far as to say 'just because hes from the upside down doesn't mean hes evil' which is like. the only time anyone has ever voiced that thought in 4 seasons - that the upside down and the creatures that live there might not be innately evil. (and i could make an entire other post about how dart proves that the upside down isnt inherently evil but thats for another time- ) and its because dart is his friend, which the show established in s3--

dustin has certain issues with his own friends drifting from him and theres that bike scene with mike in season 1 where he's just okay with the fact that lucas and mike are best friends and dustin is, like, lesser because he was the last to join and lives further away (which, as mike says, he isnt lesser). but hes just okay with that. until s3 where they all blow him off after hes been away for months and he feels neglected! hes upset! he complains about it to steve!

so dart is, like, this little helpless, harmless, mysterious critter he found eating junk in his trash. and i might be going off base but id argue that not only does dustin consider dart a friend, but also he sees himself in dart. they both like nougat, for one, and dustin is established to be a food-lover (which i fucking adore), and dart is toothless, like him.

not only does being toothless make dart (appear) harmless (and so very cute, so adorable), but it makes him like dustin. in s1 dustin was missing his front teeth (i dont actually know the deal with gaten's teeth in s2+3 but anyway) and was mocked for it, even named 'toothless' by his bullies.

i think its definitely arguable that dustin defended dart even when the evidence pointed towards something sinister because he was a kid and he thought dart was his friend and he felt betrayed and was in denial that he was wrong about his new friend, but i also think dustin just. sees the best in people. he saw the good in dart and even when dart is full demodog, dustin still trusts dart enough that he allows his friends to walk past him while he distracts dart with nougat. he knows that bond is still there, he knows that dart still trusts him.

dustin sees the best in people, he sees the best in dart, he sees the best in eddie and yeah im gonna compare his bond with dart to his bond with eddie now. both were said to be evil, both were cared for deeply by dustin, who hid them away from those who said they were evil. dustin is adamant to both max and steve that eddie isnt bad, eddie is a good person, his first reaction to 'eddie is suspect number one' is 'thats crazy. there is no way' and his first reaction to 'dart is from the upside down' is 'that doesnt mean he's bad', i jsut. fuck.

he saw the good in steve too. like yeah sure at first he just needs steve's protection, but he is the first of the kids to cheer steve on and call him awesome and when he needs help in s3 he goes to steve again over his own friends, and in s4 he 'insisted' that steve was a badass to eddie, who has only ever known steve as king of hawkins high, because he wanted eddie to know how cool and good steve is now and was probably even offended when eddie inevitably laughed in his face about it.

dustin wears his heart on his sleeve and just. in general is such a good kid. all he wants is for his friends to be safe and happy, he doesn't like to argue with his friends - when lucas and him get in a spat about dart and max, dustin tries to stop the argument by saying 'we both broke the rule of law, we're even' - hes the first to apologise to max when mike excludes her from the party meeting, he's so gentle with eddie in the boathouse, realising eddie cant handle touch and keeping his voice calm and quiet as he delicately explained the truth of hawkins.

UGH i just. i fucking love dustin so much.

bonus s1 dustin (and lucas, mostly lucas what a sweet kid) being sweet with el.

#stranger things #dustin henderson #IVE BEEN TRYING TO PUT THIS INTO WORDS FOR AN HOUR I HOPE MY POINT COMES ACROSS #steve harrington #eddie munson #< sorry im trying to get this post to see the light of day

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pareido1ias-7 · 1 year

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TW: mentions of SA and death

i dont think people understand how fucked up henry actually is. like i see SO many posts like "oh i can fix him" "he was just in a goofy mood" and yes i understand most are just joking and i might be a little too upset about this but when people try to twist the actual canon of the show to defend henry? like what the fuck. the amount of symbolism hinting at SA and real pervy shit is insane.

even in s1, henry targetting will and then stuffing a vine down his throat and impregnating him with a demodog? look me in the eye and tell me that isnt creepy as fuck.

him only targetting teens and pre-teens? like some of the max being vecna'd scenes were shot in a way that feels like its designed to make you uncomfortable. like him groaning and rolling his eyes back when he puts his hand over their face? the cheek stroking? he did that to el too (who was like nine at the time) he like stroked her cheek while she was crying and told her not to worry as they stood in a room filled with childrens dead bodies.

the will getting possessed scene? will said it himself: he felt it everywhere. i know there was one quote that really had alarm bells ringing in my mind and i dont remember it exactly but when will was possessed he said that henry (the mindflayer) was making him do it (aka making him do things he did not want to do)

its all creepy.

and even if we arent talking about that kind of thing, he is just a literal psychopath and you cant change that. he murdered a room full of children. he murdered his mom and sister. he murdered chrissy, fred, patrick, and max (although el started her heart back up, she still died)

he tricked el into thinking she had an ally and then traumatized her so much that she blocked it out of her brain and had to relive it to get the memories back. he gave her an entire speech about how life was pointless, cruel, and repetitive when she was nine.

to add to this, the stuff that happenedI when billy gets possessed. the visuals of him kidnapping hannah (im pretty sure it was hannah, please correct me if im wrong) were definitely NOT subtle. he tied her up, gagged her, laid her down on the ground, and knelt over her while whispering "be quiet, it will all be over soon" which is also said by henry when he targets his victims, usually right before he kills them. but yeah, the whole thing with billy wasnt subtle at all, and that wasnt actually billy, it was henry using billy's body.

i also wanted to talk about brenner, because thinking about all the el shit has me thinking about him too.

there is so much that creeps me out about brenner. like not just creepy things but like things we have seen him do to el on the show. like he tried to make her kill a cat and when she refused he locked her in a small, dark room while she screamed for him to let her out because she was terrified, and it scared her so much that when mike got her into the closet she had flashbacks. and then the scene after she kills the guards (which also severely traumatized her) brenner carried her away after saying "incredible."

like, he doesnt see her as human. at all. she is a lab experiment to him.

another thing that bothers me is the "papa" shit, for obvious reasons. i dont know if he is trying to get her to trust him more and see him as a father figure or if there is more to it, but it creeps me the fuck out. she was kidnapped as a newborn by this man who works at a lab, and he forces her to call him papa while he basically tells her that everything he is doing to her (abusing, experimenting, using her like a tool) is okay. he gives her the illusion that she can back out at any time ("is that okay with you, eleven?") but when she does back out she is punished severely and cruely. which is a very common tactic to make women feel like they are safe and they are okay while being raped or assaulted.

there is also the fact that one of the only women that isnt a number we see at the lab when el is with all of the other numbers (before henry kills them) is the nurse. and yes, women can be creepy too, but it gives me really bad vibes thinking about all of those children in the hands of men who didnt see them as human and didnt care about them at all, and the children thought that anything the men did to them was okay.

that is scary.

there are also a few shots that are just creepy, like a specific one i can think of is a shot in s1 ep8:

(sorry for the ass quality)

yeah. interesting shot. and its lingered on for a LONG time.

but yeah. brenner and henry give me terrible vibes, besides the whole psychopath thing. i just feel like not everyone is really thinking about how weird some of the situations these kids are being put in.

#dr brenner #henry creel #st analysis #henry creel analysis #dr brenner analysis

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smallestclowninthecircus · 3 years

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Tma season 2 notes baybeee

I made myself take several breaks so I could give my frie d who is listening to it at the same time as me a chance to catch up. Honestly just posting them so I have them saved somewhere but whatever.

ep 41: real graham wrote keep watching before he was replaced. Jon feels like he's being watched. But they werent replaced by things related to the eye. It's the web that's on the box that replaces them. Endless hallways and doors to nowhere. I bet nicholas will have ideas what entity this relates to. If it even does. They're like the tunnels in the one with the builder guy. Tunnels closing in etc. Also like the cave diving one. He's assuming it's just one

ep 42: so 100 gecs? (IM SORRY I LIKE 100 GECS BUT LMAO) so there's some entity related to music right? There's the piper episode and the 27 w/ the calliope. Ah yes, this season is gonna be the season of Paranoid!Jon

ep 43: section 31? fucking books. god no. smashed lights? cult lady did that. covered the lights too. she mentioned a spooky clown doll. thats not random.

ep 44: is this that same circus that got mentioned before? it is! the pipe organ! pop off organ! pipe off! mouth on the stomach! yes! mouths in unusual places my beloved!

ep 45: antiques! like that one ep!

ep 46: every time books get mentioned i sigh. hhh sus smells. it got brighter. I get the vibes occasionally that the dark and the eye are sorta at odds with eachother. GRRR BARK BARK LEITNER. ayyy ex altiora. entity go brr. which entity do we thing it is? my guess is The Dark. The book buyer's name is Mike. He has scars? Electricity? The childhood friend of the guy who got it later on perhaps? The Vast? its formatted like an entity idk. This happened before the other one. He got trapped in the wood carving. a win for the web lol spiders go brr

ep 47: did i hear spiral? ITS THE NOT THING FROM THE EPISODE WITH NOT GRAHAM "it didnt move, it shifted" is like the exact same sentence as before. ay john's starting to remember. the laughing woah thats weird. is "michael" one of the entities? "you make it seem like theres a war" supports my theory that theres a struggle between a couple of the entities. I said i thought it was the eye and the dark i believe but im not sure. its whatever entity michael is vs the worms? what did nicholas say the worms were again? The Corruption? still dont know which one michael is tho.

Had to take a break after that episode. smth about the quality of michael's voice makes me feel like im gonna slip into one of those states where it feels like nothing is real, so i got a nice cold glass of water.

ep 48: jesus ok this one's kidna corny. you're telling me love made the crowd go away come on now. Ur losing it big J. also shouldnt it be more sus that "sasha" is so unaffected by the worm incident/ finding of gertrude's body

ep 49: haven't we heard hector's name before? oh is he the crime guy? fucking jared... so it's a throat? chompa chompa. (it's just a little bit hot) the good part about these episodes is that we know whoever's telling the story isn't gonna die. even if it's a close call, they're not dead. hotworth? ok not jared keay. it bothers me how theres so many repeated names, can they not come up with other names? "sasha"'s computer is breaking... sus. Elias our favorite weed man! jon ur so paranoid lmao

ep 50: robert smirk, at it again. this is like that one episode with the old dude who locked his door. who said idle beforehand? was it smirk? fingertips. thats so weird lmao. bahahah tim

ep 51: simon fairchild. im sure jon will mention the name at the end i cant remember where we've heard it. this is just like the cavediving episode. a hand? there was a hand in the last one right? the scalpel! and an eye thing. she's trying to throw them off.

ep 52: thats the guy from before! with the hearts! god i hate this guy writing the statement hh. lights blowing, and brackish water. we know how this ends but its still tense. rainer? reigner? rain man. we've seen him before

ep 53: pls not a leitner. oh boy mans scratched out his eyes. rip skelly. why would gertrude have had this statement off the books? jon stabbed himself?? bruh im? big man are you okay

ep 54: cockney boys! ayy its our favorite delivery men. she cut out their eyes. she knew that the eye was a thing?

ep 55: oily residue like the retirement home!

ep 56: worms? no. spiders?? bruhh. aaah yelling :(( aww martin anyways yeah i called it about paranoid!jon he needs to take a nap and drink some hot chocolate and calm down for once please

ep 57: just remembered, i think theres an entity called The Lonely?? This feels pretty lonely idk. fairchild, lukas/ lucas, some spooky place in norway idk. "sasha" knew he was recordinig hmm suspicious cmon jon figure it out. Sasha and tom. hm sus. for records sake i feel liek i should note here that I did have it spoiled to me simply that that's not sasha, but thats really all. i assumed it was like the thing that happened to graham in S1

ep 58: i feel like i recognize the name eustice (?) wick. someone please tell me im not just watching jon's descent into madness over the course of this podcast. im hoping it isnt so but, (and pardon the dsmp reference) im getting real wilbur vibes from this one.

ep 59: oh dear ok account from the fielding house. swirling designs? Spiral time? oh boyy. oh wait! 6 inch hole in the middle! is it not a spiderweb type design on the table? thats what i had assumed but that description sounds more like a spiral thing. cobwebs is a Web thing. ayy nicholas was right! the box goes in the table! the place that she kissed him was burning. Raymond is an avatar of The Web and agnes is the burning one. Lightless Flame! Why did she save him? i guess she was against this guy eating ppl or wtvr but why was she at the halfway house then? I think she's like michael.

ep 60: the eye go brr

ep 61: breacon and hope once again. tom. sasha's boyfriend. vampires sleep in coffins. the guy just walking in seems similar to the mind control of the vampires

ep 62: bones! its that one leitner. is this mother keay? the mom of gerard? this is what happened to her right? her skin was found on hooks? oh yeah thats what i thought the pages are made of skin. yeesh. The End!! sounds like an entity. phrased like one, and i think i remember it. are the people trapped in the pages? or... kept?

ep 63: eaten by the darkness! cavediving episode! (just like eaten by the sky) did my brain make up one called The Vast? it feels like it should be one, and all these episodes have some similar description about their feelings when they do whatever chosen hobby they have. ok now this one kinda feels like the dark. lights going out and all that. ok so not really a The Vast thing, its more of a Dark thing. feckin smirk gah.

ep 64: dice! the death guy! the death game thing! the person tricked somebody else into becoming death and then they were immortal? but if the egyptians wanted to kill him or punish him or whatever couldnt they just kill him? it worked in the end when he had the person giving the statement stab him, that did the job and actually killed him

ep 65: finally jon is actually acknowledging something is wrong.

So we know Mary Keay was revived most likely with the book by gerard.

Gertrude was way more aware of the entities than Jon. mary keay referenced The End openly and she cut the eyes out of her magazines and all that which makes me think she was aware of The Eye

ep 66: please not buried alive pleeaase not buried alive. lukas of the tundra? didnt we hear the name lukas before? she wanted it to be difficult to find important files because that way bad people couldnt find them?

ep 67: agnes... the girl in the hilltop house? agnes poppin off!! he's really not gonna question how she knew where he lived?? oh no D: the tree. were they the ones working on the house? aww they kissi- OH DEAR. why did she kiss him? it seemed like she cared about him? also she could kiss that other dude on the cheek and he was fine, but maybe it was cuz she was younger? lightless flame go brrrrr.

ep 68: oh god books. yup its bitchboy leitner. mans said "this seems supernatural, its a werd book!" bruuh.

ep 69: heh nice. aw cmon jon listen to martin. gahhh spiders. is that the class we heard about in the other doctor one with the teeth apple? some kind of psych class? oh dear. fucking spiders. aaaah. web do be goin brr. it's like the girl in the homeless shelter! who made the guy leave and she took his bed.

ep 70: is this gonna be the book that mary keay had? Most likely a leitner no matter what. Oh boy latin. Why did it start in latin then become old English? I'm guessing people put them in the book? He cant burn it. Phrophecies go brr. He says eh it's a decade in the future it's fine. Its gonna have changed. Ayy called it. Just accept it, it's a magic book. His death is getting closer. Leitner didnt make them but just collected them? Gertrude burned the book! She burned them down there so no one would know.

ep 71: oh boy tunnels. Our favorite thing /s. is The Buried a thing? Idk this seems pretty buried. Oh dear he's trapped here isnt he. "Not enough space to move, never enough to breathe" is that from the computer episode? With the guy who uploaded his consciousness? Somebody living down there. Hmmmm. Guesses: tom, sasha's boyfriend. Gertrude herself? (Though I doubt it)

ep 72: sweeney todd moment. Meat. The slaughter? Idk we'll see what the supernatural part is. Meat is meat. Similar to the slaughterhouse episode. Is it fucking Jared I swear to God it better not be. Hooligan teenagers, you know how it is. Meat is me lmao. Is the kid gonna be in the freezer. Ok that's good. OWW. Oddly textured candles. Made from people? Human fat or smth? Tom from the meat processing plant!

ep 73: outer bay shipping. Bet it's a subset of breacon and hope delivery. The Dark go brrr. Uh oh mans is gonna die. Leo or whatever. Cult ppl go brr. The people's church of the divine host. Who is the divine host? Is it reigner or whatever his name is? I dont think Jon can quit tbh. Probably an anonymous tip but from who?? One of the entities?

ep 74: fucking teeth hhh. I dont know which entity is related to teeth. Spiral. Isnt the spiral an entity. It feels like it could be related to many things idk. Yeah this sounds like the spiral. Heart attack at 29? Jesus... michael! That's kinda what I was thinking. Sasha goin in the tunnels. Hmm sus. They move the floor. Wack. Bet its tom.

ep 75: Man with a lightning scar. Has one of the leitner books. The childhood friend of the one who first introduced us to leitner. Oh my god that sounds terrifying. Michael crew.

ep 76: scalpel? Hmm spooky. NotSasha... think jon think.

ep 77: another double! NotThem, The Stranger. Not related to the table?

ep 78: what was that at the beginning? Question mark?? Oh boy more NotThem. Decker... what is the deal with the table. Does it contain the creature? Fucking Michael. Bitchboi himself.

ep 79: yes pop off martin. Ugh fucking Michael just leave man. I hate that dude. New person. Hmm. No idea who it is.

ep 80: shitener himself! Ok sir tell us the entities. Ayy The Spiral. Ok we know what that one is. The Eye is the beholding! Oooh. The Stranger. Did elias just kill leitner? Popping off honestly.

#Neptune tma notes

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calumcest · 4 years

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‘cause all of the stars are fading away (just try not to worry you’ll see them someday)

so i wrote this a while ago while looping stop crying your heart out with meg and sat on it for a bit bc i wasn’t sure whether i wanted to post it or not but y’know what. absolutely fuck it also i think? this is my first ever cashton fic that isnt a drabble like my first ever proper fic? isnt that exciting

@kaleidoscopeminds i think you know everything about this fic that you need to know already and i can’t be in sappy hours in the a/ns so all i’m going to say is in case you were under any illusions this is for you in every which way

Growing up isn’t easy.

Nobody ever told him it would be. You’ll get hurt, his mum would say, eyes big and sad, and he’d shrug and say that’s life, not really understanding what she meant because he was yet to spend three nights in a row staring up at his ceiling, drunk and high and so miserable it somehow felt like everything and nothing at the same time. It’ll be difficult, his manager had warned, when they got their first tour with One Direction, and Ashton had shrugged and said isn’t everything?, not realising that what ‘difficult’ meant was sacrifice; his sleep, his home, his self, everything torn out at the roots and tossed aside for him to gather back into his arms again.

The hardest part of growing up, though, isn’t when things happen to him, when someone breaks up with him or wakes him up two hours after he’s gone to bed or puts him on another plane six hours after he’s just got off one. The hardest part of growing up is when he looks around him and realises I’m not happy.

It doesn’t hit him like a train, full-force to the face and leaving him no room for doubt. It comes piecemeal, comes in late-night conversations with Luke where he exhausts himself just to make sure Luke’s going to be okay until the morning, comes in brief flickers of clarity when he looks at himself in the mirror and thinks I don’t know who you are, comes in a moment where he walks past someone who smells like home and his heart, which he’d almost forgotten was still nestled somewhere in his chest, clenches and constricts. I’m overthinking it, he’ll tell himself, forcing down the panic that rises in his chest, or sometimes it’s just because I’m tired, or high, or on a comedown. It’ll pass. And it does, passes from his heart to his veins, from his veins to his lungs, but never strays any further from his core than that.

So he just tries not to think about it, and most of the time, it works. Most of the time, he’s too drunk or high or tired to really think about it, for it to do anything more than thrum dully in his veins, buzzing below the surface. He tries to dampen it - never says no to a party, always says yes to a drink - but even when he’s laughing and dancing and grinning up at the ceiling of some dark, grimy nightclub in fuck knows where, it’s there with him, prickling at his skin like it’s trying to find a way to build a home under it.

Being the oldest doesn’t help, either. It’s Ashton Luke turns to on a dark night, three lines deep and somehow still somewhere between a high and a comedown, and it’s Ashton Michael turns to after three nights with no sleep, exhausted and delirious and muttering I’m not worth it, I don’t deserve it nonsensically under his breath. Ashton has to shelve it, then, has to sit Luke down and let him use Ashton to counterbalance the coke, has to open his arms for Michael to crawl into and let him use Ashton to counterbalance the lack of sleep. He wonders whether Luke and Michael hear the deep breaths he takes to steady himself before he does, whether they know he��s using the air in his lungs to quell his own feelings, push himself down until he barely even remembers who he is besides their counterbalance. He wonders, if they know, whether they even care, whether what he needs matters to them at all.

Calum’s the only one who seems to get it, sort of. He never says anything, never offers any advice or commiseration or consolation, just sits next to Ashton wordlessly as he gets another line up his nose, or stands outside on the balcony at four in the morning while Ashton smokes all of Calum’s cigarettes, or lies next to him in bed while Ashton’s staring at the ceiling, fingers brushing against Ashton’s just to let him know he’s there. It’s something, Ashton thinks, as he’s relishing the bitter drip of the cocaine down his throat, or staring out at a city that isn’t home, or willing himself to cry while it’s still dark in the hotel room but unable to patch enough emotions together to form a single tear. It’s something, but it’s not quite enough to make Ashton feel like the pieces of himself will ever slot together in a way that fits.

And realistically, Ashton knows he can’t carry on like that indefinitely, can’t carry on catching brief glimpses of himself in shop windows and car doors and in Luke’s eyes and thinking I don’t know who that is, but what else is he supposed to do? Luke needs him, Michael needs him, and neither of them particularly seem to care what they’re doing to him. When Luke’s talking quietly, miserably, about missing home and his family and the fucking servo they used to hang out at when they had no money, and Ashton strokes his hair soothingly and says I know, and I’m sorry, he thinks what about me? D’you not think I miss home, my family, the fucking servo we used to hang out at when we had no money? When Michael’s mumbling incoherently into Ashton’s chest, something about not good enough and worthless, and Ashton presses a kiss to the top of his head and says you’re enough, Mike, you’re enough, he thinks what about me? Am I enough? They’ll smile at him brightly the next morning, throw him a quick sorry about last night, restored by all the energy Ashton’s given them, bleeding himself dry for just a few hours of their happiness, but they’ll never do anything more than that. It’s easy for them, easy to drain Ashton and hang around on the sidelines, bored, while he struggles to replenish himself only for them to get impatient and siphon off whatever he’s managed to get back again. But what else is Ashton supposed to do, leave them parched and gasping?

What Luke and Michael don’t - or maybe won’t - see, Calum does. He sees the way Ashton zones out of conversations, the way he slumps on the sofa, the way he’ll close his eyes for a moment before plastering a smile on his face and cracking a joke. He always sighs, and usually gets that little crease between his eyes, but he says nothing.

He’d tried, once. You’re exhausting yourself, he’d said, passing his half-smoked cigarette to Ashton. Ashton had taken it, looked out at the light-polluted sky in front of them, and shrugged. Yeah, he’d thought, edged with bitterness. Who else is going to?

See, that’s the thing about growing up. Ashton doesn’t have his mum seeing him exhausted and upset anymore, doesn’t have her around to march to his friends’ houses and tell their parents exactly what she thinks about how their kid is treating her son. He doesn’t have anyone to cradle him at night while he cries, no more home-cooked dinners brought to him in bed, no more trips to the supermarket for three tubs of ice cream. Nobody’s there to pick him up or to put him back together again, or to tell him when enough is enough. Nobody pulls the strings anymore; they were cut long ago, and Ashton’s only just starting to see the fraying threads.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Ashton blurts to Calum one night, chain-smoking Calum’s cigarettes on the balcony of their hotel room. Calum doesn’t say anything at first, just hands him his next cigarette. “I can’t.” He doesn’t know whether Calum’s going to know what he means, doesn’t even know whether he wants to be saying it, but the words claw their way up his throat and out of his mouth before he has a chance to force them back down, a well-worn little dance between his head and what’s left of his heart.

“You don’t have to,” Calum says, after a minute. He doesn’t, it’s true. It’s in Ashton’s hands, the decision to step away, to hold his hands up and say I’m not strong enough for this. But that would mean taking his life into his own hands, and Ashton’s not strong enough for that either.

“Yeah, I do,” Ashton says, and Calum just sighs, and hands him the lighter.

It’s not until Ashton’s almost finished the next cigarette that Calum speaks again.

“What do you need?”

It’s such a simple question, but it stops Ashton in his tracks. He spends all his time thinking I don’t want this, I need something else, there’s something missing, there’s something wrong, but when Calum picks up the other end of that thread of thoughts and asks what do you need? What can I give you? Ashton realises he doesn’t know.

He doesn’t know what he needs, he just knows that he needs something, something that isn’t this. And he doesn’t know what he wants, either, just knows that he wants something, something that isn’t this. He doesn’t fucking know anything, because he barely even knows who he is anymore, doesn’t know the hazel eyes that blink back at him in the mirror every morning, doesn’t know the curly hair he catches in the window of a passing bus. How is he supposed to know what will stitch the disparate parts of himself that he still has a hold of back together into something resembling Ashton Irwin when he doesn’t even know who Ashton Irwin is?

“I don’t know,” he says eventually, and Calum hums, like he’s mulling the answer over in his mind.

“Alright,” he says after a moment, like it’s okay that Ashton’s falling apart in front of him into too many shards to ever fit back together again, and hands Ashton another cigarette - there are only two more left, now - passing him the lighter along with it. Michael would probably frown at him if he knew, Ashton thinks, as he puts the cigarette between his lips, and Luke would whine and bitch and try and steal one of them off him, but Calum gets it. He gets that Ashton’s relishing the way his lungs are hot and burning from it, the way he’s choking from the inside out, revelling in the feeling of choking on something that isn’t himself, for once. He doesn’t like it - Ashton can see that in the way his lips are slightly down-turned, the glances he keeps sending Ashton out of the corner of his eyes - but he gets it. He always gets it, always knows when Ashton needs to be alone and when he needs to be with someone and when he needs to be high and when he needs to be sober, and Ashton’s never really thought too hard about it, but now he can’t help but wonder whether Calum gets it because he understands.

“Do you ever feel it?” Ashton asks. Calum looks at him for a moment, a little calculating, like he’s trying to work out just what Ashton means by that and how honest of an answer he should give, then looks out at whatever fucking city they’re in today, and shrugs.

“Yeah, sometimes,” he says.

“What do you do?” Calum shrugs again.

“Let myself feel it,” he says. Ashton takes another drag of his cigarette, lets the words sink in with the nicotine.

“Why?” Calum throws Ashton a look.

“There’s nothing else I can do.” Ashton exhales heavily, watches the cloud of smoke as it turns from a plume into a mist between the two of them. He knows what Calum’s doing. He’s telling Ashton, as gently as he can, that it’s okay. And, Ashton thinks, he’s testing Ashton, challenging him to say you could repress it like me, seeing whether in the darkness and a few pints down he’ll admit to it.

(But the city’s still lit up in front of them, and Ashton’s barely even tipsy.)

“D’you think it’ll always be like this?” Ashton’s not even entirely sure what he’s asking. Will life always be this crazy, maybe, or will I always feel this way?

“No,” Calum says, reaching for the pack of cigarettes again as Ashton stubs out the one he’s been smoking, and holds his hand out for another. He sounds so sure, so certain that things are going to get better somehow, and it makes the scraps of Ashton’s heart ache.

“Are you just saying that to try and make me feel better?” Calum huffs out a laugh.

“No,” he says again, a smile playing at his lips. “I’m saying it because it’s what you need to hear.”

“What’s the difference?”

“It’s not going to make you feel any better.”

He’s right. It sort of makes Ashton’s stomach clench, the thought that things aren’t always going to be this way, because it means something’s got to change, and nothing will change until Ashton changes it. It’s comforting, in a way, knowing that he’s not always going to feel like this, but it’s equally as frightening as it is reassuring, because it means Ashton’s going to have to take a deep breath and step off the precipice he’s been hovering on for years, eyes wide open and still no idea where he’s going.

But, Ashton realises, although his stomach is constricting and his heart has skipped a beat or two, he doesn’t feel any different. He doesn’t feel any more afraid, any more overwhelmed, doesn’t feel unsettled or like the weight pressing down on his chest has got any heavier. He doesn’t feel better, but he doesn’t feel worse, and that’s more than he’s ever had when allowing himself a peek into this abyss.

It doesn’t quite hit him so much as it nudges at him, knocking politely and waiting for him to answer the door. Ashton hadn’t known what he needed - still doesn’t know what he needs, doesn’t even know what he wants or where he wants to end up - but Calum had. Calum had found the right words, known exactly how to balance comfort and honesty, known where to draw the line and where to step over it.

Ashton takes another long drag of the cigarette in his hands, watches it as it burns almost all the way down to the filter, and then stubs it out, lays the butt in the middle of his frankly impressive collection, and moves to the edge of the balcony, letting his forearms rest on the railing and his hands hang in the cool night air. Calum seems to sense that it’s a silent invitation, and steps forward to join him, arm pressing against Ashton’s when he leans forward over the balcony.

Calum holds out the last cigarette, digs around in his pocket for the lighter Ashton had handed back to him after his last cigarette, that silent this might be my last after lighting every one that neither of them believed anyway, and holds it out in the palm of his hand for Ashton to take. Ashton puts the cigarette between his lips, but hesitates with his hand halfway to Calum’s. His lungs feel full, now, smoke and tar and something else, something Ashton can’t quite place but knows he doesn’t mind.

Instead of pulling the lighter out of Calum’s hand, Ashton brings his fingers up and links them with Calum’s, squeezing their hands together. It’s a little uncomfortable, the lighter hard and still warm between the two of them, but Ashton doesn’t mind. It’s sort of grounding, in a way.

What do you need? Calum had asked.

You, Ashton’s saying, hand tightening around Calum’s. When Calum’s fingers curl around his own, warm and soft, thumb stroking gently over Ashton’s, Ashton knows what he’s saying.

Okay.

taglist: @callmeboatboy @sadistmichael @clumsyclifford @angel-cal @tirednotflirting @cthofficial @tigerteeff @haikucal @queer-5sos @i-am-wierd-always @stupidfuckimgspam @bloodyoathcal @pixiegrl @pxrxmoore @clumthood @another-lonely-heart @calumscalm

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#cashton #5sos fic #5sos fanfiction #5sos slash #god...how much of a bop is stop crying your heart out though #like on a real that song SLAPS #ok maybe slaps is the wrong word but its like...positive depression. uplifting depression #i vibe with it so hard #and any excuse to write loosely based on an oasis song #god idk why i'm so nervous to post this #anyway...heres stop crying your heart out #alcohol tw #drugs tw

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billdenbrough · 4 years

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i'm going through some rough stuff atm and i've been feeling pretty bad for a while, but the shark puppy au made me smile for the first time in days. thank you so much, to you and to all of the people contributing to it. you made someone's day a lot more bearable

first off, i’m so sorry you’ve been having a hard time recently! i feel that a lil deeply, rip, but i’m sending you all the vibes and care i can, and i really hope things shift for you, because that’s an awful way to feel, but i am so, so happy that anything we did or said today/last night made anything a little easier for you 💕it’s nearly 3am and i have work again in the morning (fucking rip) but i thought i’d put some more shark puppy stuff out there in the hopes it might make tomorrow a little easier for you too!

so this morning before work i answered an ask abt shark puppy and was talking in the tags abt patstanlon (essentially just. thinking abt how to execute it)

and so tonight once i was finally home from work i was talking to a few of the others abt it and @benverlesbians brought up patty’s BA and also how in the book she says bill isn’t a real writer bc he’s a novelist (tangent but i just went back to read the start of that chapter and a, ouch, but b, “Stanley drove a Mercedes diesel—teasing him, she called it Sedanley” this will never not make my heart yell) and that led jem to the conclusion that patty thinks real writing is either non-fiction or non-prose, i.e., journalist or poet

we settled on journalist for her career, but she has a background in poetry from college

@benverlesbians: “patty and mike are like “we both got BAs in english and we are both perfect human beings” and they are correct”

anyway this interview takes place after the Scathing Review from the Conservative Magazine (after richie’s bi ass jeans)

jem posited that bev’s rly protective of the band (and herself, ofc herself, and why wouldn’t she be) and tends to like, vet the interviewers pretty hard, bc she has to be sure she can trust them with their words and their image

and then we were thinking abt how that’s interesting bc like. patty probably isn’t super overt on social media (certainly not just showing her whole self on there, miss ‘wouldn’t admit to thinking richard dawson’s watch chain was sexy if wild horses tried to drag it out of her’), which is like. frustrating for bev’s purposes, but also… kinda relatable? and bev can respect it, on an intellectual and empathetic level, even if it’s annoying that it runs counter to her purposes (but there’s also—-part of bev thinks maybe, someone who can be private with themselves can have some integrity with others, but then there’s another part of her, those self-preservation instincts honed from years of not being able to trust… men specifically, but it’s made all trust harder now, and that part is wary, hard-pressed to give people the benefit of the doubt, not when it comes to her and her friends)

jemma: “bev is like “why don’t you have instagram” and patty’s like “this isnt you interviewing me, this is me interviewing you. please pass the maple syrup, my pancakes are dry as fuck"”

(it starts at a kitschy diner (jem’s idea) bc like, well, there are seven of them. like. that’s too many. but they’re probs not all at the diner, maybe just bev, stan, mike & eddie (deliberate choices from bev, given how she couldn’t find too much on patty—-some good testimonials that convinced her to give the interview anyway, even if patty works for a buzzfeet analogue, bev has less personal hang-ups with them than stan does, even though she loyally disavows them with him—-and she trusts stan and mike to hold their own, and while eddie can be a wild card (it’s not wild, she thinks, not really, because it doesn’t come out of nowhere. it’s just that he’s brave and good and loyal and principled, like he’d have her back, have all of their backs, and wouldn’t let anything slide he wasn’t okay with), she’d rather have that inability to back down at her side when their words and image are on the line than some of the impulsive nonsense richie and bill pull, and ben has a tendency to be too earnest, too quick, and if bev wants to be careful, be sure, before exposing ben’s heart and sentiment and big fucking eyes to that, well, sue her) but then patty is interviewing them, and she’s thoughtful, questioning without being probing, framing things in interesting ways that keeps them talking, keeps them interested, and bev’s already halfway to inviting patty back to the clubhouse (their studio) where the others are when stan, like, references some swedish poet whose translated works he was reading when he and mike wrote one of their songs, and patty, like, gets it? and works tomas tranströmer into her next question, and stan’s expression is just. and he glances at mike, and mike grins (bev doesn’t even know why stan bothered. mike’s clearly thought well of patty the entire time), and stan cocks an eyebrow at bev, and she almost can’t believe it, bc since when does stan ever want to allow interviewers more access? but it’s stan, and he never asks, and so of course she turns to patty, and asks: “got a couple more hours?”)

@chaoticbisexualalien: “pre-meeting stan journalist!pat on twitter giving their album a four-star review but singling him out as exceptional and then a bitter fan is like "oh did he eat you out for that review” and she’s like “I would have given them five stars for that"”

@striffyisme: “omg,,,, the fans start calling her Petty Patty for her excellent clap backs”

britt: “stan sees it and doesn’t get involved directly because he doesn’t want to fan the flames but he admires her from afar and then later on he finds out that she’s interviewing the band and he’s like ”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!“ inside”

alex: “stan, instantly in love and adoring from afar, patty falling for him as she gets to know him, everyone outside the band thinking it was the other way around lmao”

which, yeah, bc when the others catch on, they realise… patty working for a b/zzfeet analogue isn’t a speed bump for patstanlon to overcome, but rather just something stan was holding onto as like, a reminder to himself that ‘objectively she’s not perfect, and the only perfect person in this world is probably mike hanlon, be quiet rich’ but he’s wrong! she’s perfect too! he knows two perfect people! and by the time she’s gotten a job offer for her frankly thoroughly fucking excellent article abt shark puppy and has quit her job at the buzzfeet analogue, he’s pretty much forgotten about that hang-up until she’s like, “god i’m glad i have an actual adult workplace now” and mike laughs and stan feels his heart grow three sizes in his chest

@dykeeddie: “Okay I’m just gonna say it if she’s working at a b*zzfeed analogue for any period of timeShark Puppy Styles Me For A Week… there are 7 of them it’s the only way”

anyway the article is fucking bomb, everyone stan patty blum, and it blows the conservative scathing review sky high into a void of irrelevance

(at the clubhouse, patty makes such an expression at one of bill’s lyrics that richie actually chokes on his coke from laughter)

#shark puppy #patricia blum #beverly marsh #stanley uris #god i've been typing this for hrs i suck at answering asks it's fucking 5am #also the b/zzfeet analogue idea came totally from that ten long yrs of trying to make armie hammer happen article lmao #answered #Anonymous #long post //

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punkscowardschampions · 5 years

Text

Ali & Carly

Ali: Ich glaub ich spinne Carly: wtf Carly: do you want a drink babe? Ali: ze german, baby Ali: i'll say no but get why you're saying yes so early Carly: k more for me Carly: nobodys in a sharing mood today Ali: yeah? Carly: yea Carly: no fun Ali: Leben ist kein Ponyhof Carly: give drew a slap for me k Ali: it would be my pleasure Ali: can i ask how he's pissed on your parade from over here tho Carly: the boy played me Carly: he wanted me to beg for what id just given him the prick Carly: shouldnt have drunk this much this soon my bad Ali: he's a fuckboy Ali: you knew that Ali: my sister on the other hand remains frustratingly oblivious Carly: dont be mad at me Carly: ive been trying to get him to dump her this whole coach ride Ali: I'm not mad at you, babe Ali: no room with how much ugh I have for him Ali: well, hopefully she will him Carly: he thinks shes gonna fuck him in berlin Ali: prick Ali: won't when she finds out Carly: you cant say anything cuz i wasnt meant to Ali: Let himself fuck it up then Ali: he's not being subtle Carly: he cant do subtle Carly: me and him have that in common like Ali: Carly Ali: do you like him? Carly: why Ali: because I think you do Carly: it doesn't matter what you think Carly: he thinks she's girlfriend material & im a slag Carly: hes not wrong either Ali: If you like him, then you should say Ali: regardless, shouldn't let him be a cunt to you, and Ro in the process Ali: who the fuck is he Carly: ha Carly: i dont like anyone baby Carly: I'm just bored Carly: berlins a whole new party Ali: well, good Ali: one less worry Ali: I wish you the perfect holiday fling Carly: aw Carly: youre still the sweetest Carly: sure you dont want a drink while theres some left? Ali: need it now so fuck it Ali: chuck it over Carly: come over Carly: you kno youre the sporty one Carly: i cant be throwing things round the coach Ali: alright, you calling baby spice, I assume? Carly: or scary Carly: depends whos asking Carly: cant be posh tho Ali: yeah you can Ali: she weren't even and you can rock that pout just as well Carly: aw Carly: you should be baby tho youre the cutest Ali: little school all over again, we can't all be baby, lads! 😂 Ali: i'll be ginger, if you wore that iconic dress on your site, you'd get lynched Carly: yea Carly: & if anyone would cause drama by going solo its you Carly: Marlene been knew Ali: Ouch 💔 Ali: but fair Ali: Already thinking about her due to namesake birthplace but you really went there Ali: please tell me I haven't tanked as hard, not got Drew's fragile ego like but 😥 Carly: you kno im just mad youre not thinking about me Carly: dont listen to a word i say Carly: goldies got a fragile heart now too, so sad you broke up w me & stole his bf on top Carly: someone think of the golden god Ali: baby Ali: yeah, that's TOTALLY what the weird vibe is all about Ali: moody twat, soz a threesome is outta the question now Carly: he likes you too Carly: thats a thing Carly: playing like im the one hung up but he is Ali: Nah Ali: that boy don't know what he wants Ali: not down for him using my bestie and sister to find out though, fuck off and soul search like the rest Carly: he wants you Carly: but you got your boy & he shouldnt be trying to mess w Carly: meant to be his boy too Ali: so he reckons but give him 5 minutes before he weren't arsed Ali: don't trust him as far as I can throw him so ain't taking his word on that either like Ali: exactly Ali: 🐍 Carly: id leave him alone if he was happy being w her but i kno he isnt Carly: not letting him lie to me Ali: it doesn't have to be your problem Ali: or your job to make him happy Ali: knew it though Carly: ha Carly: it isn't my problem Carly: & i cant keep a job you kno Carly: couldnt do that one if i was paid like Ali: no one can babe Ali: not to be that hippie cliche about it Ali: but forreal, gotta do that shit himself Carly: its Carly: how he makes me feel sometimes Carly: not happy im not living that lie but Carly: its not nothing & sometimes its good you kno Ali: yeah Ali: i know Ali: but you can have more, if you want Ali: that is possible Ali: you don't have to settle for sometimes good Carly: youre sweet but youre a dreamer babe Carly: ive got nothing going on not in my head & not around me Carly: theres no more than settling down on the site or settling for being off whenever i can Ali: s'not true Carly: yea it is Carly: you dont want it to be but that dont mean its not Carly: me and that boy have more in common than not being subtle like Ali: it ain't Ali: doesn't have to be Ali: nothing is set in stone unless you pour the fucking cement yourself, like Carly: it doesnt have to be doing it but it can still get poured Carly: forget it tho Carly: im drinking on empty & feeling sorry for myself Carly: no fun in that Ali: ain't that fast drying Ali: dust yourself off and run Carly: where to babe Carly: nowhere to go but the coach bathroom Carly: been there done that Ali: well hang on a bit and we'll be in a whole new country, babe Ali: promise is a promise and we can start in Berlin Carly: but 3s a crowd when its not a party Carly: im not trying to mess you & your boy up Carly: cant tell drew off if i do Ali: nah Ali: it ain't like that Ali: not got the blinkers on and knowing each other's passwords and schedules Ali: got trust Carly: yea? Carly: got food too or Carly: cuz im gonna vom if you say no Ali: Yes Ali: Lemme food parcel Carly: if you havent lost the knack Carly: been awhile Ali: 😔 Ali: i'm soz Carly: dont be Carly: you kno i love you Carly: no drama Ali: i love you too Ali: and you would tell me if you needed something wouldn't you Ali: 'cos that ain't changed, i'm still here Ali: unlucky bitch Carly: unlucky for you Carly: shouldnt be on site unless theres something in it for you babe Carly: all i need is to remember breakfast before i get on a sess Carly: & to dilute my spirits sometimes too Ali: there is, you nutter Ali: there you go, who said school trips weren't educational? only on the bus and you're whacking out the wisdom already Carly: not as thick as i look Carly: ms woodfield was thinking it too i reckon Carly: she might kno but im still gonna blame the shit driver if i vom Carly: try and stop me bitch Ali: you look nothing but amazing hush Ali: she's down with the kids, she'll hold your hair back Carly: you hush Carly: trying to make me emotional in front of the front of the coach Ali: it's alright, join Millie Rooney and say you're homesick 😉 Carly: idk whats sadder everyone thinking im crying over an empty caravan or that prick thinking its about him Ali: 😬 i know what i reckon Ali: better dry those tears, babygirl Carly: get his phone for me tho yea Carly: i am mad he gets me & i get nothing back Carly: use the magic Ali: use my mad hacking skillz gotcha Ali: but should I use them for good and accidentally forward some incriminating shit to Ro? 🤔 Ali: this is why we're not meant to play God Carly: do what you must Carly: i trust you Ali: don't worry, sure you're not the only girl he's been chatting too Ali: no offense meant obvs but you know Ali: don't have to drop you in it, as if its your fault but idk, Ro isn't always willing to be entirely rational when it comes to him Carly: idc she never liked me much anyways Carly: better that than dropping some naive random in it Carly: everyones seen me naked if it blows up Carly: old news Carly: & the vid was good too i look hot Ali: hmm, good point on the random Ali: and I don't doubt that you did Ali: I'll have to think on this a bit harder Carly: k Carly: if everyone gets in my inbox ill kno Ali: god Ali: people are gross Carly: can be fun sometimes Carly: cant all be angels like you babe Ali: 🖕 Ali: you know i ain't Carly: i kno you are Carly: too sweet Ali: pot kettle baby Ali: but your secret's safe with me 😘 Carly: ha Carly: its no secret im only sweet to you so youre the only one who needs to kno Ali: 'cos people suck Ali: that's no secret Ali: not gonna waste your time, are you, like Carly: not as good at picking out the deserving ones as you Carly: no secret i fuck up more than i dont Carly: how many bad decisions can i make before berlin tho Ali: nah, you're just too nice for your own good Ali: you know he don't deserve it but people have made the same (wrong) judgment on you so you can't do it back Ali: to anyone Ali: even genuinely shitty people, or people who'd be better off for the nudge of nah Carly: now whos dropping the wisdom Carly: ill just screenshot those few sentences for my ma when she's on at me Carly: im a nice person bitch Ali: 💅☕ though Ali: i'll translate it into spanish for her if she's not getting the memo in plain english Carly: ha Carly: she got well excited cuz she thought berlin had a red light district Carly: thought she was gonna get in my bags Carly: one way to stop me fucking drew in the front row but Ali: pretending i didn't hear that last bit ew Ali: moving on Ali: she wanna get in the windows or like? Carly: she did get the sack so probs Carly: or she thinks itll be like magic mike the german dub idk Ali: oh honey Ali: every nights a hen night Ali: 🙄 Carly: imagine if theyd let mas and das on this trip Carly: i couldnt have come Ali: me either Ali: no one needs that Carly: your ma is so scary Carly: but shed put goldie in his place Carly: probs shouldve brought her Carly: keep me behaving Ali: she literally wants to murder him Ali: need a restraining order and more than mr murray and mr latimer to keep her back Carly: ha Carly: love it Carly: cant she break up the happy couple Carly: my da did me & this beautiful traveller lad that took my v Ali: 💔 Ali: is he married now Ali: if we're doing matchmaking Ali: but in answer, she learnt that forbidding something makes it 1000x more likely to happen and in more secretive, intense ways so Ali: I'm soz Ro, really fucked you over on that one Carly: idk my da literally moved them on Carly: threat of getting the law Carly: k but he still wouldnt be into it Carly: i feel bad for her Ali: ugh Ali: so romeo and juliet, baby you must've been so about it 'til he fucked it up that hard Ali: yeah, i know Ali: i'll figure out something Carly: i was only 12 so i did have the mindset Carly: worth it tho Carly: prettiest boy ive ever seen Ali: swizzle on that, goldilocks Carly: everyone wanted to fuck him Carly: the whole site was feeling the love Carly: fun times Ali: like a beatle was living in your back garden Ali: love that Carly: i peaked Carly: all there is now is a golden god who behaves like a idiot boy Ali: i mean, won't take offense 😒 sat right here and all but no 😉 Ali: there's a whole world of dick out there i promise you Ali: some attached to boys who don't behave like one Carly: ha Carly: you know you're my fave Carly: but youre sat next to him so I cant tell it Ali: 💚 Ali: won't even tell you who i lost my v to Ali: too shaming Carly: now you have to Ali: 😬😫 Ali: okay but then i'm going for a piss so i don't have to feel the pity Carly: baby id never feel sorry for you Carly: w my life come on Ali: you might sympathize though 'cos it was ronan Ali: why he got all weird, probs Ali: eurgh repressed memories flooding back in with the shame 😂 Carly: shit Carly: i told drew all first times are bad but wouldnt wish him on you like that Carly: oh ronan Carly: he better not have treated you like he did me Carly: ill fucking kill him like Ali: aw babe Ali: my hero 💪 Ali: you know what he's like but that shit is long in the past with us so meh Carly: im gonna cry Carly: babe thats sad Carly: & now ms woodfield is staring at me k Ali: don't cry silly Ali: is what it is Carly: im crying and planning murder Ali: you went there too, and other various dickheads, so where's my invite to this party? Carly: but youre perfect Carly: and it was your first time Carly: actual tears in the front row Ali: oh babe Ali: i'm coming over Ali: bog roll in hand Carly: youre too good Carly: im so sad Ali: 😇 that's you Carly: all you tho Ali: nu-uh Ali: you you you Carly: i cant argue cuz im blinded by my tears Ali: not the greatest victory I've ever then Ali: but I'll take it if you smile again Carly: waiting for ms woodfield to tell me i need jesus Carly: ill laugh then Ali: okay, i'll try and lead the convo and her like Ali: we got this, woody Carly: nah if you try and lead her anywhere itll only go one way Carly: teachers pet Ali: 😂 Ali: do you reckon she loves that everyone lowkey drools over her 'cos she's the right side of 40 Ali: or is she desperately job hunting like these fucking kids Carly: i can see in her eyes she loves it Carly: she hates me cuz i dont Carly: facts Ali: not 'cos you never do your work, nah 😏 Carly: & im drunk as fuck rn on her watch Ali: i mean Ali: if YOU were doing your job properly darling Ali: mad you beat her to it, they always get plastered on trips Carly: yea Carly: bet shed take nudes in the bathroom if she had someone to send them to Ali: ooh what teacher could she homewreck Ali: school trip always a perfect place to start an affair Carly: Mr O'Brien could get it if you were old Ali: good shout Ali: getting out my bow as we speak Carly: Mr Cork is alright too but he looks like he'd shower after holding hands Carly: weird Ali: I mean Ali: cleanliness is next to godliness Ali: dirty hoe Carly: ha Carly: you kno it Ali: might be a serial killer Ali: but you wouldn't catch nowt off him Carly: dont have to go home if he murders me Carly: scatter me in berlin lad Ali: 😨😭 noooooo Ali: even if i could go neeson and avenge you Carly: dont go neeson off set tho Carly: your boy wouldnt love the racism Ali: don't wanna be that bitch Ali: problematique Carly: enough bitches on this coach Carly: for once not looking at you ms woodfield Carly: we ever getting there? i thought getting wasted would make me less bored not more Ali: and lowkey racists Ali: all comes out the woodworks when you outed, that gay bashing all afresh like Ali: seriously, why couldn't we go on a plane Carly: & overt racists Carly: that cash tho Carly: how would the teachers afford to get wrecked if they blew the budget Carly: gotta blow each other first Ali: ☕ Ali: dickheads Carly: when goldilocks isnt the biggest twat on the coach tho Carly: idk what to do w that Carly: universe trying to make me like him Ali: give him time Ali: sure he'll reclaim his title 💪 Carly: he'd love a crown Carly: or a medal Carly: get crafting Ali: only if I can get biblical Ali: crown of thorns, you mean barbed wire, okay Carly: ha Carly: im tired come & nap w me Ali: okay boo Ali: as far as pillows go 😏 Carly: serious Carly: i dont wanna sleep on my own Carly: hate it Ali: i remember Ali: coming Ali: promise

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adambstingus · 6 years

Text

Every Halloween, I Have A Story I Like To Tell

I liked Ben, I really did. I mean, he was a nice guy. We had some fun times together in college, messing around the dorm, going to parties, all the dumb shit that college guys do. He was cool and all, but he was a little pretentious. Well, I guess the word he used was artistic. He thought he was real smart, spent a lot of time trying to prove it to everyone. He had his own blog developed to film critiques not the big ones, though. Just little indie productions because nothing else was worth his time. When he got like that, he could be pretty insufferable.

Perhaps the most annoying thing that he did was performance art.

Now, I dont wanna be the guy who says that all performance art is dumb. But yeah, no, all performance art is dumb. Oh, look, youre on display painting a picture of Jesus from your own urine, how original and edgy! Maybe Im a little jaded, but it always seemed so contrived to me. Unfortunately, Ben really loved it. He thought there was something beautiful in art that was physically living and he devoted an embarrassing amount of time to it.

Anyway, I hung out with Ben a few times after college, but we mostly just met up to do some heavy drinking and maybe hit a strip club or two. He considered THAT performance art as well, which was just fine with me, it gave me an excuse to waste some ones. Since we didnt hang out very often, I had a bad feeling when he contacted me about a month before last Halloween.

He called me up at about seven in the morning on a Saturday, which is too early to even consider waking up, in my opinion. I answered in a daze and he started running his mouth like crazy, as though afraid that, if he didnt get it all out at once, he never would.

Mike, hey, Mikey, listen, buddy, I need your help, okay? Okay, okay, Ive got this idea for a performance and, well, its going to be , you know? So good! Its going down on Halloween. Can you come help? Look, Ill even pay you, man. Fifty dollars. So how bout it?

Now, Ive never cared much about Halloween one way or the other, and Im a pretty easy guy. Fifty dollars to probably just sit there and run a fog machine or some bullshit? For the right price, I could even pretend that I wanted to be there. Besides, what else are friends for?

A few days later, he gave me the details. To be honest, I was a little shocked when he sent the email. I know that performance art is intended to be edgy and can sometimes get a little dangerous, but this seemed downright negligent.

Mike:

Thanks for agreeing to do this for me! Ive talked to a few other people, but they werent really comfortable with it, for reasons youll probably be able to figure out. Of course, I understand if you want to back out, but I think you are probably the most reliable person I know. Its really not that big of a deal, Im sure youll agree.

As Im sure youve noticed, vampires have become very prominent in the media as of late. I say vampires because they are beginning to deviate so wildly from the traditional myths that they resemble forest fairies more than anything else. Altruistic? Sparkly? Whiny? Give me a break. We need more Dracula! We need more Carmilla! We need more death, destruction, and blood!

My performance will center on the theme of rebirthing the vampire. For the vampire to be reborn, he must first be buried. To turn peoples attentions back to the myths of old, I will be doing just that: I will be burying the vampire.

I have a group of viewers signed up already to participate in the performance, so you dont need to worry about that. Im going to plant a series of vampire-themed clues around town for them to follow. The clues should be pretty simple, and it will probably take no more than an hour to an hour-and-a-half for them to find me.

Here comes the somewhat controversial part. Essentially, for this performance to have any semblance of meaning, I need to be buried alive. Dont worry, its perfectly safe: I have a buddy from back home who is building me a coffin with a hole in the top. Ill be fixing it with a pipe that will stick an inch or two above the ground. That way, I wont run out of air. Ill also have a few necessities in the coffin in case something happens: food, water, and a flashlight.

Once they arrive at my grave which will be completely vampirized they will be provided with an array of shovels and will bring me back to life, a reincarnation of the true mythological history of vampires.

Here is where you come in. I need you to bury me. In addition, I need you to be my safety net: if they cant find me, if something goes wrong, if I become sick, I need you to be the one to get me out or call the police, if necessary. Ill also need you to decorate my grave, make it really creepy dont worry, Ill send you some blueprints.

I know this is a little stressful and it may take some time for you to decide, but, rest assured, this is a completely safe project. Theres no danger of suffocation and the coffin is sturdy, so its very unlikely that it will collapse. I really just need you there for support and the actual hard work of burying me.

What do you say? Id even be willing to up your pay to a hundred dollars, if thats what you need.

Let me know!

RIP,

Ben

I stared at my screen for a few minutes, completely dumbfounded.

Once I cut through all the bullshit about art and vampires and rebirth, what it came down to was death.

This guy actually wanted me to almost kill him.

I mean, sure, it probably WAS safe. But my mind went over the plan slowly. What if I couldnt get him out in time? One shovel and a pit of dirt wouldnt be a fast job. Furthermore, what if something happened to me?

Before making a decision, I sent him another email asking if he was really sure he was up for this. Of course he knew, he said. And then he said something that would always stick with me.

Art must be a little dangerous, my friend, for it to be real.

A month later, I found myself standing at the foot of a grave. It was six feet deep and perfectly rectangular. Sitting at the bottom was a tapered coffin covered with black lacquer, a white skull painted on the top. In the eye of the skull was a hole just big enough for the PVC pipe. Stenciled underneath was a line from Dracula: Denn die Todten reiten schnell.

I stood there like an idiot, waiting for Ben to show up.

In the end, Id decided to go along with his stupid gig. Ben was a stubborn bastard, and if I didnt help him, someone else would. At least, thats the justification I gave myself. But the real reason was that, deep inside my heart, his words were still echoing.

Id ended up doing a little more work than I had intended. For one, I had to place his stupid clues around the city. It wasnt hard work, but it took some time to get them all in the proper places. Luckily for Ben, they were pretty obvious clues. There was no need to worry that his participants would be unable to find him.

Ben had set up the grave and the coffin a few days prior to Halloween. It was out in the woods just on the outskirts of town, no chance of it being disturbed. Id tried to talk him out of burying it the whole six feet down.

If something happens and I need to get you out fast, what will I do? Cant you put it closer to the surface?

Ben had just shaken his head in exasperation. You just dont get it, do you? It has to be done right. Remember what I told you.

So I shrugged and let him mess around with whatever dumbassery would get him off.

I was just beginning to wonder if I should have brought more beer this promised to be a long night when Ben showed up.

I had to restrain my laughter when I saw his getup. A cheap Dracula costume from Wal-mart had never looked so pathetic, especially when topped off with those cheap plastic fangs. Hed greased his hair back and painted on a widows peak.

I couldnt resist. Wow, seriously, dude?

He gave me a stern look. Its a comment on the commercialization of vampires and horror as we know it today. He fished around in his pocket and pulled out a walkie talkie. Here, take one. The range isnt very far, but my cell phone wont work that far underground. Youll have to stay nearby. Let me know if youre going out of range.

I shrugged and took it. Okay, but you brought your cell just in case, right?

Nah, what good will it do if it doesnt work?

This guys batshit insane, I thought. But he handed me the hundred dollars and, suddenly, it didnt seem to matter anymore.

I helped him into the coffin and shut the lid. He seemed pretty calm if it were me, I knew Id be having a panic attack. I fit the PVC pipe into the hole. It slid in perfectly snug. I climbed out of the coffin and grabbed my shovel, taking one last look at the shiny black peeking out from the dirt.

With a resigned shrug, I started to shovel in the dirt. Okay, well, he asked for this, I thought.

It took almost a full hour to get all the dirt piled in. The PVC pipe was just barely visible over the grave. I piled the earth around it to hide it as well as I could. Then, I set up the rest of the grave: a hideously gothic headstone made of Styrofoam, and cheap Wal-mart flowers. Once it was finally finished, I sat back against a tree and waited.

There was an awful lot of waiting to be done.

Three hours later, his participants still hadnt come.

Hed buzzed in on the walkie talkie a few times, asking if theyd shown up. I continually answered in the negative, wondering how long hed be willing to keep up this charade. He must be getting worried, I thought, staring at my watch. It was already 10 pm and not a soul to be seen.

Hey, Mike? Something must have happened, I dont think theyre coming. Can you get me out of here? Bens voice crackled and faded in and out of the static fuzz. I took another swig of my beer and heaved a sigh.

Of course they werent coming. They were frantically searching for the last clue. My hand crept into my pocket as I felt it folded there, the creases poking at the soft flesh of my palm.

Mike? Are you there? Did you go out of range?

I turned the walkie talkie off. I didnt need it anymore, anyway. Carefully, I picked up a handful of disturbed earth from the top of the makeshift grave. I poured it down the pipe and listened.

I heard the muffled exclamation, the series of expletives. I thought I could hear a thumping sound he must be hitting the top of the coffin. I smiled a little to myself as I poured some more dirt in through the pipe.

Bens struggles got louder and I felt a certain heat rising up in me. Oh, I knew it could be good, but I didnt know it could be good. This was incredible. This was perfect. This was .

Eventually, I grew bored of shoving the earth down into the coffin. I could hear Bens screaming and sobbing reverberating up the pipe. I yanked a handkerchief out of my back pocket and stuffed it inside. I made sure to plug it up good and tight.

It would only be a matter of time, now. Assuming he could regulate his breathing, he could possibly have a few hours. But I knew he was panicking. And that would simply serve to shorten his time.

The pounding grew weaker as I finished my beer. Once I was certain there was no saving him, I went to finish my work.

Ben was right everything really did go off without a hitch. I dont know what I was so worried about.

Id gone to find his lost sheep, the wayward participants who were scrambling in frustration for the last clue. I scolded them for making us wait so long, acted the part of the reluctant friend indulging his lunatic companion. I took them out to the grave. It was now past midnight.

They sat hushed as I gave the stupid speech that Ben had prepared for me. Everything seemed normal Id made sure to stow the rag before anyone could see it.

Friends, foes, and everyone in between. Tonight we gather to resurrect the ancient horror that has plagued mankind for centuries. Its tale, once a gruesome epic of blood and seduction, has become nothing more than commercialized fodder as society has aged. Now, the time has come for the phoenix to burn and rise again. So, too, shall the blood-soaked visage of the vampire! My voice resonated throughout the woods, and the morons in attendance clapped as they all reached for their shovels.

We dug him up in about half an hour. It was much faster work with his host of suckers. It was good that we reached the coffin quickly, because I could barely contain my excitement.

Two of the men opened the coffin and screamed. The women leaned in over the grave to peek as well, full of expectancy. There was something dreadful about the scene, to be sure.

Bens face had gone gray, sprayed over with a few specs of dirt. His hands were bloody, his fingernails pried off. Deep scratches decorated the top of the lid. The men who had opened his tomb dragged him out in a panic, unsure if this was part of the performance or not. A few moments of silent listening at his chest produced no heartbeat. The proclamation was definitive: he was dead.

They screamed. They called the police. They alternatively looked at his body and shielded themselves from its horror, enraptured yet struggling.

They ignored me.

But that was fine. It was fine because they were admiring my work, the work of the artist. Finally, I had been given this opportunity to prove my worth. Finally, I had found my sacrificial lamb. And it had been a rousing success. The heat raging in my body affirmed that much. I didnt even care if I was caught, so long as I could have this moment to hold for the rest of my life.

Ben was right. I should have known a man of principle never lies. And I owe him a debt of gratitude, for realizing the artist within me.

Art must be a little dangerous for it to be real.

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/every-halloween-i-have-a-story-i-like-to-tell/ from All of Beer https://allofbeercom.tumblr.com/post/172357360662

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samanthasroberts · 6 years