#WAS HIS VOICE DIRECTOR. in 87.

[istherewifiinhell]

okay cc'ing all my bloggers. looping in. business words.

rise clip with the tf actors

(SOME TIME AGO...) Draxum: The human threat draws ever closers. If we do not take action: The Hidden City itself will be at risk.

Coucil head 1 (deep male voice): We're tired of arguing about this, Draxum! The prophcy does not say that humans are our enemies.

Draxum: It predicts the destruction of the yokai! The humans have already driven us underground. If I could only change them by-

Coucil head 2 (raspy male voice): NO! Your experiments are an offence against our very nature. You will cease your action immediately!

Coucil head 3 (raspy female voice): This is exactly what happens when you allow warriors to mess around in alchemy.

Draxum: FOOLS! (storming off noises)

Coucil head 1: I don't trust that one... Agent 64!

Mayhem: teleportation noises. animal noises.

Coucil head 1: Keep an eye on him, hes dangerous... (baby talking) Oh! Would you like a treat! Hoho Whooo's a good boy.

[dreamer1084]

Natsuyuu Anime S7EP8 VS Manga Vol22 Ch.87

Anime removed the line "What's your emergency..." and changed the tone of the dialogue to be more straightforward (there are a lot of dialogue changes in anime that just change the tone, so I won't repeat it)

Pseudo Natsume's facial expressions were different.

Pseudo Natsume's dialogue was simplified.

Anime added a scene on the first night that Nishimura was startled when he saw pseudo Natsume jumping from the second floor.

In manga, Natsume was simply passing by with some books, but in anime, he had obviously just finished using the washroom.

Anime included conversations among Natsume, Tanuma, Nishimura and Kitamoto who were worried about their test.

In anime, Nishimura was already sleep deprived at this time.

Added the background sound of Natsume and Tanuma talking and laughing, and Natsume had noticed something wrong with Nishimura.

Nishimura even bought snacks for pseudo Natsume.

A few more days of pseudo Natsume's visit, and Nishimura had lunch with friends.

Sasada, who only lived in the OP before, finally appeared in anime. (And the day was 20th May)

At this point in manga, Nishimura's lack of sleep made Natsume notice that something was wrong. Anime extended the test mentioned before and here Natsume was even more concerned about Nishimura's lack of sleep.

Nishimura in anime was obviously waiting for pseudo Natsume to visit during his studies, and he immediately ran to the window excitedly when he heard him.

What pseudo Natsume humed in manga should be a pure nasal song, and anime had lyrics. According to the director Omori-san, this song is "星めぐりの歌 (Lyrics: Kenji Miyazawa)". It was one of the songs when Omori-san asked Midorikawa-sensei what her impressions of this scene were. The BGM of anime was also adapted from this song.

In anime, Kitamoto was worried that Nishimura was studying too much, and Natsume said that he would go find out.

Deleted Nishimura's inner thought "You have become gentler, Natsume"

Converted some of Nishimura's internal dialogue into spoken dialogue, and added the action of pseudo Natsume unilaterally starting to walk.

Manga just depicted Nishimura looking at the moon and listening to pseudo Natsume's nasal voice. Anime added a lot of original scenes during their "walk" (the smell of the night, Nishimura saying that he was a little afraid of getting lost when going out at night, moon viewing in the park, flower viewing road)

In manga, pseudo Natsume had been leading Nishimura up to the second floor. In anime, as soon as they entered the house, pseudo Natsume disappeared. He led Nishimura by humming.

Deleted Nishimura's frightened shouting "T-the doll is moving...!?"

Anime added "after inserting that finger" in Nishimura's dialogue, so Natsume immediately knew that it was "the finger"

Anime deleted Nishimura suddenly remembering that he had never seen Natsume's left hand at night.

There were also subtle changes in Natsume's tone and sentence formation in anime.

Anime added how Natsume spied on Nishimura.

[covid-safer-hotties]

Also preserved in our archive

Robert F. Kennedy Jr. from fringe figure to the prospective head of U.S. health policy was fueled by skepticism and distrust of the medical establishment—views that went viral in the Covid-19 pandemic.

People once dismissed for their disbelief in conventional medicine are now celebrating a new champion in Washington. Scientists, meanwhile, are trying to figure how they could have managed the pandemic without setting off a populist movement they say threatens longstanding public-health measures.

Lingering resentment over pandemic restrictions helped Kennedy and his “Make America Healthy Again” campaign draw people from the left and the right, voters who worried about the contamination of food, water and medicine. Many of them shared doubts about vaccines and felt their concerns were ignored by experts or regarded as ignorant.

Kennedy merged a crowd of Covid-era skeptics with people who long distrusted mainstream medicine and food conglomerates. Together, they helped return Donald Trump to the White House. With the president-elect’s selection of Kennedy to head the Department of Health and Human Services, the medical establishment is bracing for an overhaul of U.S. health policy.

Health authorities who beat the pandemic worry about losing more trust from the people they worked to save. Doctors, scientists and public-health officials are asking themselves how they can win it back. Among their postelection revelations: Don’t underestimate or talk down to those without a medical degree.

Officials fear that Kennedy will promote unproven remedies, appoint vaccine skeptics to immunization-advisory committees and hamper the government’s infectious-disease detectives in a future pandemic.

Kennedy has said he opposes food coloring and additives, the widely used pesticide glyphosate, seed oils and foods with added sugars, among many other issues. Medical authorities say some of his views, such as suspicion of ultra-processed foods, have scientific merit, while others are unfounded. The food and pharmaceutical industries are planning to win him over where they can and do battle where they can’t.

Much of Kennedy’s popularity reflects residual pandemic anger—over being told to stay at home or to wear masks; the extended closure of schools and businesses; and vaccine requirements to attend classes, board a plane or eat at a restaurant.

“We weren’t really considering the consequences in communities that were not New York City,” the places where the virus wasn’t hitting as hard, former National Institutes of Health Director Francis Collins said at event last year.

Authorities focused on ways to stop the disease and failed to consider “this actually, totally disrupts peoples’ lives, ruins the economy and has many kids kept out of school,” Collins said. The U.S. overall took the right approach, he said, but overlooking long-term consequences was “really unfortunate. That’s another mistake we made.”

Public-health officials wonder if they have sufficient clout for the next national emergency. “Science is losing its place as a source of truth,” said Dr. Paul Offit, an infectious-disease physician at Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia. “It’s becoming just another voice in the room.”

Pandemic restrictions wore on Joel Grey, a 62-year-old retired car salesman in Belfair, Wash., who voted for Trump. He got vaccinated only because diabetes put him at higher risk of complications from Covid-19. He said he watched acquaintances lose jobs because they wouldn’t get the shot and blamed his mother’s death at 87 partly on the isolation of lockdowns.

Grey became frustrated with scientists telling Americans how to live, he said: “I just don’t think they have a place in our lives.” His view resonated broadly.

In October 2023, 27% of Americans who responded to a Pew Research Center poll said they had little to no trust in scientists to act in the public’s best interests, up from 13% in January 2019.

‘Latest Nonsense’ Children’s Health Defense, a nonprofit group founded by Kennedy, got a boost during the lockdown era, a time of surging interest in alternative medical and nutrition information and advice. The nonprofit raised more than $46 million from 2020 to 2022, nearly 10 times more than it collected in the three years before the pandemic, tax filings show.

The group published articles saying Covid-19 vaccines sabotaged the immune system and enriched shareholders of drugmakers. “Ignore the Latest Nonsense About ‘Variants.’ Stay Focused on Dangers of COVID Shots,” read the headline of one 2021 article. Others took aim at Dr. Anthony Fauci, head of the federal government’s infectious-disease research center, and groups that supported vaccines, including the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation.

To counter such views, Jessica Malaty Rivera, an epidemiologist with hundreds of thousands of Instagram followers, shared information on the importance of vaccines and face masks. She dismissed unsupported claims as misinformation and described some of their purveyors as grifters.

Looking back, Rivera said her sometimes scolding messages weren’t helpful. “Everybody has been tempted by the slam dunk,” he said. “It’s not an effective way to communicate science. It’s just not.” She and others say they are dialing back the use of the word misinformation, saying it makes people feel they are being called liars or dumb.

During the pandemic, Palmira Gerlach had questions about the Covid-19 vaccines, but doctors “were very dismissive,” the 44-year-old recalled.

Gerlach, a stay-at-home mother outside Pittsburgh, said she falsely told her child’s pediatrician that she got the shot, seeking to avoid judgment. The doctor told her, “Good girl.” Gerlach turned to podcasts featuring Kennedy, drawn to his willingness to question pandemic measures.

One challenge for health authorities was learning how to combat Covid-19 while hundreds of people died each day. Researchers needed months just to clarify how the virus spread. That meant answers to common questions kept shifting: Was it OK to gather outside? When was it safe to visit grandparents? Do I have to wear a face mask everywhere?

Health authorities sometimes got it wrong. At first, officials said Covid-19 vaccines would prevent transmission or infection. Later, they learned that the shots instead cut the risk for hospitalization or death.

Shelli Hopsecger, a small-business owner in Olympia, Wash., who described herself as an independent, said she listened closely to health officials when the pandemic hit. But as school closures and lockdowns dragged on, she began questioning what they said.

Hopsecger, 56, said the pandemic made her realize how powerful a role federal health agencies played in her life. “We all are aware now that there are these agencies that look at these things on our behalf,” she said. “As citizens, it’s time for us to start telling them what we want them to look at.”

Last year, Hopsecger said she started listening to Kennedy’s podcast interviews on the recommendation of her 26-year-old son. She recalled Kennedy pointing out how millions of Americans suffer from chronic diseases, despite vast sums spent on healthcare.

“Mr. Kennedy is definitely on to something,” Hopsecger said. “Our current policies and systems are not doing the job of preventing or even reversing chronic diseases.”

Us and them Kennedy’s polling as an independent presidential candidate had fallen to the single digits when he threw his support to Trump in August and embraced the slogan “Make America Healthy Again.”

The career of Kennedy—an environmental lawyer, former heroin addict and the nephew of the late President John F. Kennedy—took a turn in 2005 when he began questioning the use of vaccines. He says he exercises, meditates and attends 12-step meetings every day.

While campaigning for Trump, Kennedy talked about how more Americans were obese and more young people were getting diagnosed with cancer. He decried the quality of foods and warned that water and medicines were polluted by toxins and chemicals. He criticized the medical establishment for pushing pills and shots, rather than addressing the root causes of disease.

“We were all told in Covid: ‘Trust the experts.’ But that’s not a thing,” Kennedy said in an episode of the “What is Money?” podcast in April. “Trusting the experts is not a feature of science. It’s the opposite of science. It’s not a feature of democracy.”

Many doctors, scientists and health officials with traditional credentials share Kennedy’s view that ultraprocessed foods contribute to obesity, yet they also say more study is needed. Likewise, many establishment health figures agree that scientists need to do more to understand the role of microplastics and so-called forever chemicals in food and water.

Yet many scientists and food-industry officials say some of the food colorings and chemicals Kennedy pinpoints as dangerous don’t affect human health in such small quantities. Nearly all are alarmed by Kennedy’s unproven or disproved claims—that vaccines cause autism, AIDS might not be caused by HIV and antidepressant drugs might be linked to mass shootings.

Ashley Taylor, a 33-year-old entrepreneur in New York City, sides with Kennedy’s views on food safety and the role of experts. She became critical of traditional medicine after scoliosis surgery as a teenager left her reeling in pain and reliant on Tylenol. She said she rejected her doctors’ recommendations and found relief from her back problems with acupuncture, a nutritious diet, yoga and positive thinking.

Taylor said that health authorities during the pandemic ignored studies on natural immunity and didn’t acknowledge that people who had been infected with Covid-19 might not need to be vaccinated. “What I just don’t approve of is purposefully presenting information in a way that is not allowing the American public to arrive at their own opinion,” she said.

Taylor listened to part of Kennedy’s book, “The Real Anthony Fauci; Bill Gates, Big Pharma, and the Global War on Democracy and Public Health.” She was attracted to his ideas even more after watching a September roundtable on nutrition featuring Kennedy and his allies, hosted by Sen. Ron Johnson (R, Wisc.) in the Senate.

After previously voting for Democrats, Taylor said she cast her ballot for Trump.

Mainstream doctors, researchers and health officials are bracing for a Kennedy-led federal health department. They are considering how best to communicate with the public if they need to counter decisions that stray from established public-health measures.

Some Food and Drug Administration staffers have already stopped saying that vaccines are safe and effective, instead advising that the benefits outweigh the risks, a person familiar with the matter said. The change is intended to make clear that all medical interventions have risks, the person said, and to spike the argument that rare side effects mean vaccines aren’t safe.

Virologist Dr. Greg Poland said he advises scientists to communicate with humility and empathy, to speak as a compassionate physician would with a patient. “We’re not dogmatic. We’re not about forcing people,” he said. “We’re about imparting information.”

To build trust in vaccines, Poland, who is also a Presbyterian minister, speaks to conservative churches and civic groups. He tells them he will be truthful and transparent and then explains how vaccines work and how scientists arrive at a consensus.

Poland said he stays until he has answered every last question.

[silvercap]

HHNGG there's so many good ones for the whump drabble challenge!! Hmm okay, what about 87. Overworked! <3

<33

Also this isn't going to be 100 words gahhshds I'm only partly doing the challenge 😭

Overworked

Leon's head is pounding, the overhead lights blaring painfully into the back of his eyes as he sips at his coffee and tries to force himself to focus on the mission report he's typing up. It's been a long day--the report is due 48 hours after extraction, no exceptions--and an even longer month, a slew of punishing missions leaving him sore and exhausted. The only reason he's not still out in the field are the cracks in his ribs, but it's far from the only injury he's sustained in the past week. Advil can't take away the ache of his recently-dislocated shoulder, tied up in a sling because he can't even move it without getting nauseous, nor can it dull the throbbing lines of stitches holding claw marks closed on his back.

It takes him a long time to finish and hit the print button, frustration and a yawning emptiness making it difficult to care whether or not it even makes sense. His head throbs as Leon rises to his feet, stepping out into the office to pick up from the printer--only for Hunnigan to step into his space the moment he's outside, looking just as tired as he is.

"Can you sign these project forms for R&D? They need them for Monday, but it would be best if you could get them done ASAP. Did you finish your report?" She hands him a new stack of papers, all tiny print and official jargon that will no doubt strain his already blurry eyesight until he can barely see straight. That's how it always goes.

"Yes." Leon tries not to get irritated, and fails. His head throbs sharply. He grits his teeth when she continues.

"Good. I also need you to look over updated SOP before my supervisor gets after me for it, and I've emailed you an old report from last year that was apparently missing a few details." She sighs. "You forgot to date it properly, again. Director wants a rewrite."

"What?" Leon frowns, struggling to control his tone. There's something filling the back of his throat with acid, headache jamming fresh spikes into his skull. "That's--I still have to go over that report from Wisconsin. I won't have time today."

"I know, but they want this done yesterday, and there's only so much that I can put off. There's a new online training module, too, on the updated office software--"

"Hunnigan, I don't fucking care!"

Leon regrets it the moment it's out, eyes widening as he realizes that his hands have curled into fists, chest heaving and heart thundering under his ribs. Hunnigan just looks stunned, the concern that's already bleeding into her expression putting something desperate and sharp in Leon's throat. The inexplicable urge to cry itches behind his eyes, but he forces it down, aware that his entire body is trembling. Around them, other DSO workers stare.

"I--sorry," Leon stammers, running an anxious hand through his hair. "Just...let me--"

He turns on his heel to dart back into his office, not bothering to close the door since he knows Hunnigan is on his tail anyways. He plants his hands on his desk as she follows him inside and closes the window blinds, glancing up as she shifts closer and wordlessly puts a hand on his back. The wound beneath pangs lightly, and Leon can't hide his flinch.

"I'm sorry," he says raggedly, voice cracking.

"It's okay. Why don't you sit down? You're shaking, Leon." Hunnigan doesn't wait for an answer, nudging him towards his chair until Leon sinks into it gratefully, clutching his skull against the ache. He can't stifle a groan. He feels Hunnigan drape something over his shoulders, and it takes him a moment to crack open his eyes and recognize it as her blazer. She's looking at him, worried.

"I'm fine," he croaks, to which Hunnigan shakes her head.

"No. How bad is it? I haven't had time to coerce medical into giving me your file."

"I'm just tired."

"You're not." Hunnigan shoots him a softer look. "Let me get you some water and I'll call you a taxi. If you're done the report, the rest can wait. I'd rather have you recovering than working yourself to the bone."

"Hunnigan--"

"I won't let you do this to yourself, Leon. They're working you hard for a reason--don't let them win."

[feminist-space]

"And then when she was in escrow earlier this month, her broker called her late at night on May 17, a Friday, with some bad news.

The seller wanted to pull out of the deal.

Why? “You could hear the fear and disbelief in his voice,” Dr. Baxter said, recalling what her broker told her next. “He said, ‘I don’t know how to tell you this, but she doesn’t want to sell the home to you, and it’s because you’re Black.’”

The seller, Jane Walker, 84, is white.

...

Two federal laws — the Fair Housing Act of 1968 and the much older Civil Rights Act of 1866 — make it illegal for both home sellers and their real estate agents to discriminate during a home sale. But more than 50 years after redlining was outlawed, racial discrimination remains an issue, housing advocates say. A multiyear undercover investigation by the National Fair Housing Alliance, a Washington-based nonprofit coalition of housing organizations, found that 87 percent of real estate agents participated in racial steering, opting to show their clients homes only in neighborhoods where most of the neighbors were of their same race. Agents also refused to work with Black buyers and showed Black and Latino buyers fewer homes than white buyers.

...

... with the home sale in escrow and on the same day of a home inspection, Dr. Baxter and Dr. Gamble made the three-hour drive to Virginia Beach to see the house in person for the first time. Ms. Walker arrived as the couple was leaving, and Ms. Walker’s agent, Susan Pender of Berkshire Hathaway RW Towne Realty, introduced the seller to the buyer.

Shortly after Dr. Baxter and Dr. Gamble drove away from the home, Ms. Walker informed her agent that she was not willing to sell her home to a person who is Black and she wished to cancel the sale, according to a chronology of events compiled by Mr. Miller and shared with The New York Times by Dr. Baxter. Mr. Miller declined to comment, and Ms. Pender did not respond to multiple requests for comment.

But what followed, according to Dr. Baxter and Dr. Gamble and supported by Mr. Miller’s recounted, written timeline, was a series of frantic actions by real estate agents on both sides focused on salvaging the home deal.

...

Dr. Baxter’s home sale remains set to close later this summer. But even if the deal goes through, her rights under the Fair Housing Act have still been potentially violated, said Brenda Castañeda, deputy director of advocacy for HOME of VA, a nonprofit that assists Virginians who believe they have experienced housing discrimination. Real estate agents are required by law to not discriminate, which means they must inform sellers who insist on acting with prejudice that they will not represent them, and extricate themselves from a sale if the seller will not acquiesce. But there are other ways discrimination can play out.

“I don’t know that you can cure discrimination just by changing your mind and going through with the deal,” Ms. Castañeda said, adding that the actions of the real estate agents on both sides could also be a violation. “There may be damages experienced by that person because they’ve experienced a loss of their civil rights and the distress of having a discriminatory statement said to them.”

She added, “Dr. Baxter has experienced harm whether the transaction goes through or not. We just want this to be a wake-up call to people.”"

https://www.nytimes.com/2024/05/31/realestate/race-home-buying-raven-baxter.html

[nerds-yearbook]

Appendix: Some of the Fantasy/Sci Fi/etc roles of John Stephenson

Dr Brewster/Phil Coulson/Police Inspector Mark Davis - Science Fiction Theatre (1955 - 56)

Dr Benton Quest - Johnny Quest (1964 - 1965)

Varner - Man From U.N.C.L.E. (1965)

Narrator - The Atom Ant Show (1965)

Get Smart - Parkerson (1965)

Colonel Fusby - The Peter Potamus Show (1964 - 66)

Chief Winchley - The Secret Squirrel Show (1965 - 66)

Professor Conroy - Frankenstein Jr and the Impossibles (1966 - 67)

Native - Galaxy Trio (1967)

Chief Winchley - Atom Ant/Secret Squirrel Show (1967)

Pondo - Mighty Dick and the Mighty Mightor (1967)

John Niven - The Invaders (1967)

Various voices - Birdman (1967 - 68)

Luke - Wacky Races (1968 - 69)

Farlik - Arabian Knights (1968 - 69)

Captain Leech - The Adventures of Gulliver (1968 - 69)

Captain Nemo - Josie and the Pussycats (1970)

Cat - Adventures of Pinocchio (1971)

Parafiend - The Funky Phantom (1971 - 72)

Director - Mission Impossible (1972)

Moton - Josie and the Pussy Cats in Outer Space (1972)

Captain Mike Murphy - Sealab 2020 (1972)

Mr Arable - Charlotte's Web (1973)

Voices - Goober and the Ghost Chasers (1973)

Voices - The New Scooby Doo Movies (1972 - 73)

Mr Finkerton - Inch High Private Eye (1973)

King Plasto - The Super Friends (1973)

Hadji - Jeanie (1973)

Voices - Speed Buggy (1973)

Cousin Itt - The Addams Family cartoon (1973)

Second Team Lawyer - Herbie Rides Again (1974)

Major General - Six Million Dollar Man (1974)

Trash Collector - Patridge Family 2200 AD (1974)

Voices - Dynomutt Dog Wonder (1976)

Voices - 5 Weeks in a Balloon (1977)

Dori - The Hobbit (1977)

Voices - Marvel Action Universe (1977)

Voices - The Scooby Doo Show (1978)

Voices - Fangface (1978)

Captain Snerdley & General Blowhard - Yogi's Space Race (1978)

Captain Snerdly - Galaxy Goof-Ups (1978)

Voices - Scooby Doo Where Are You (1969 - 78)

Doctor Doom - Fantastic Four (1978)

Voices - Scooby Doo/Dynomutt Hour (1976 - 78)

Count Rockula - The Flintstones Meet Rockula and Frankenstone (1979)

Hairy Scary - Casper the Friendly Ghost: Heavy Ain't Scary He's Our Brother (1979)

King Brobdingnag - Gulliver's Travels (1979)

Professor Harkness - Fred and Barney Meet the Thing (1979)

Harry Scary - Casper and the Angels (1979)

Hairy Scary - Casper's First Christmas (1979)

Gondorian Guard - Return of the King (1980)

Voices - Captain Caveman and the Teen Angels (1977 - 1980)

Frank Frankenstein - The Flintstones' New Neighbors (1980)

Voices - Plastic Man (1979 - 1980)

Narrator - The Drak Pack (1980)

Frank Frankenstein - Flintstones: Wind-Up Wilma (1981)

Frank Frankenstein - Flintstones: Jogging Fever (1981)

Frank Frankenstein - Flintstones: Fred's Final Fling (1981)

Voices - Richie Rich/Scooby Doo Show (1980 - 81)

Voices - Space Stars (1981)

Voices - Trollkins (1981)

Dr Norton - Spider-Man (1981 - 82)

Voices - Scooby and Scrappy-Doo Puppy Hour (1982)

Ski Announcer - Inspector Gadget (1983)

General Flagg - G.I. Joe RAH: The MASS Device (1983)

Voices - The Incredible Hulk (1982 - 83)

Voices - The New Scooby and Scrappy-Doo Show (1983)

Colossus - Spider-Man and His Amazing Friends (1981 - 83)

Voices - The Littles (1983)

Voices - Scooby-Doo and Scrappy Doo (1979 - 83)

Voices - Rubik, The Amazing Cube (1983)

Doctor Doolittle - The Voyages of Doctor Doolittle (1984)

Voices - The New Scooby-Doo Mysteries (1984)

Doctor Fury - Robo Force: The Revenge of Nasgar (1984)

Boris Kreepoff - The 13 Ghosts of Scooby-Doo (1985)

Voices - Scooby's Mystery Funhouse (1985 - 86)

Kup - Transformers: Five Faces of Darkness (1986)

Dr Lucifer, Gen Flagg, Gen Franks, Gen Hawk, MacIntosh - G.I. Joe (1985 - 86)

Beef Bonk - Galaxy High School (1986)

Voices - Centurions (1986)

Granok - InHumanoids (1986)

Granok - InHumanoids: The Movie (1986)

Voices - The Smurfs (1981 - 87)

Commissioner - The Jetsons (1985 - 87)

Thundercracker - The Transformers (1984 - 1987)

Bionic 1 - Bionic Six (1987)

Mr Slate - The Jetsons Meet the Flintstones (1987)

Doc - Fraggle Rock cartoon (1987)

Voices - Superman (1988)

Oompo - Little Nemo: Adventures in Slumberland (1989)

Professor Charles Xavier - Pryde of the X-Men (1989)

Voices - Fantastic Max (1988 - 89)

Jeffers Marston - The Real Ghostbusters (1990)

Voices - A Pup Named Scooby-Doo (1988 - 91)

Major Synapse - Darkwing Duck (1991)

Voices - Spacecats (1991)

Voices - Aahh!!! Real Monsters (1995)

Luke - Wacky Races (2000)

Voices - Scooby-Doo Winter Wonderdog (2002)

Ganthet - Duck Dodgers (2003)

Zelig - What's New Scooby-Doo (2003 - 04)

Sheriff - Scooby-Doo! Abracadabra-Doo (2009)

Voices - Scooby-Doo and the Robots (2011)

Voices - Scooby-Doo Laff-A-Lympics Scary Games (2012)

Voices - Scooby-Doo 13 Spooky Tales Holiday Chills and Thrills (2012)

Roger - Scooby-Doo Frankencreepy (2014)

This is just a glimpse as he had an incredibly large body of film, tv, and voice work, including providing the voice of Mr. Slate in numerous versions of the Flintstones. He worked into almost his 90's.

[geekgroovy]

Movie Review: Fantastic Mr. Fox Directed by: Wes Anderson Runtime: 1 hour and 27 minutes

Wes Anderson’s Fantastic Mr. Fox is a delightful and visually stunning adaptation of Roald Dahl’s classic story that perfectly blends the director’s signature style with a unique stop-motion animation technique. The result is a film that is as charming as it is inventive, appealing to audiences of all ages with its wit, heart, and dazzling craftsmanship.

The film follows Mr. Fox (voiced by George Clooney), an urbane and charismatic protagonist whose insatiable need for adventure leads him back to raiding farms, despite having promised his wife (voiced by Meryl Streep) to settle down. When his exploits provoke the ire of three vengeful farmers, Mr. Fox must rally his quirky community to survive their retaliation.

Clooney’s performance as Mr. Fox is pitch-perfect. His smooth, confident delivery imbues the character with charm and charisma, making him an endearing and relatable anti-hero. The supporting cast, including Meryl Streep, Jason Schwartzman, and Bill Murray, adds depth and humor, bringing Anderson’s eccentric characters to life in delightful ways.

The film’s animation style is a standout feature, combining handcrafted stop-motion techniques with Anderson’s meticulously designed visual tableau. Every frame is brimming with detail, from the textured fur of the characters to the vibrant, autumnal palette that enhances the whimsical yet grounded world of the story. This painstaking attention to detail elevates the film, making it a visual feast and a true work of art.

At just 87 minutes, Fantastic Mr. Fox is tightly paced, balancing clever humor with moments of genuine emotion. Its themes of family, community, and embracing individuality resonate universally, ensuring it’s a treat for both children and adults. Anderson’s offbeat storytelling and sharp dialogue keep the film fresh and engaging, while the quirky aesthetic ensures it stands out among animated features.

Fantastic Mr. Fox is a masterclass in blending style with substance, offering a unique cinematic experience that feels timeless. With its incredible animation, exceptional voice performances, and Anderson’s unmistakable touch, it’s a must-watch for fans of animation, storytelling, and cinema alike.

Rating: B

[terrestrialnoob]

Yeah, so, personally, I don't see Fast Forward or Back to the Sewers as a part of the original TMNT 2003 series. I see them as Sequel Series, kinda like how Avatar: The Legend of Korra is the sequel series to Avatar: The Last Aribender.

Not only do FF and BTTS have different titles, literally everything else was changed too. The writers, directors, primary and secondary animation companies were all changed at some point, with only the production company the same and most of the same voice actors, but that was it. That's less than what Legend of Korra had in common with the Last Airbender. And FF and BTTS were intended to be soft reboots to make the 03 series more profitable and palatable. They weren't making enough new marketable designs for toy sales and the dark tone was making the production company nervous (despite the success of the previous seasons).

(That's the important bit, there's only criticism of FF and BTTS after this.)

The FF and BTTS seasons were extremely fundamentally different: literally having different foundations in style, characterization, and storytelling. Though, the FF designs were really good for the adaptions to more computer animation, unfortunately the characters started their descent into "technically still in character", and there were parts that were actually pretty good, if it had been written by slightly more capable writers. BTTS was when everything really went to shit.

The main series was formatted so that there would be three to five episode arcs with zero-to-two standalone episodes in between. But FF started with two vague overarching story-lines that loosely held the season together with decent pacing towards the resolution of those overarching story-lines with one-off character stories breaking them up and giving us about 60/40 "Oh, that was actually a good character interaction" / "He would not fucking say that". It was really always on the edge of being good, but never actually getting to it. And I might actually put TMNT Fast Forward as a standalone series on par with the quality of the 2012 series.

FF had some pretty interesting ideas the writers just didn't do anything with or were forced to drop. Sho'kanabo was basically the Rise Kraang, just with the major weakness of sunlight disinfecting his victims. He was proper terrifying, infecting, taking over, and controlling his victims. He also made evil clones of the turtles who were like, amazing characters and had so much potential! They were so cool! And Zix was an interesting character concept, a smuggler with grey morality who helped just as much as he harmed? If only he was actually well written, and actually was grey and did just as much good as he did bad instead of just being a bad guy who said "sorry :(" sometimes.

Back To The Sewers on the other hand, was fully bad. Every part individually was bad, there is no evidence anyone working on BTTS had any passion for it whatsoever, which means management unequivocally failed at every turn. The designs were actually bad, the animation was stilted and unnatural, the plot was nonsense, most of the dialog was also nonsense to match, the writing was some of the laziest I've ever seen in the entire franchise, one (or more) character was out of character at least once in every episode, and the villains weren't serious threats (The Shredder got taken out by Mikey on his own. Speaking of... Mikey got a ton more screen time, but he also like, absorbed everyone else's character traits depending on what the plot needed? Like, I think they discovered that Mikey was the audience favorite and just made him the center of the episode no matter if it made sense or not). And on top of that, just like the 87 series, they just had to introduce a new toy or accessory design into every episode, which can be fine - unless there's nothing there to distract from it, no good writing, or animation, or characters draw your attention away from the commercial inside the show. It's so bad.

[chaos-potat]

9, 16, 17, 18 :)

Oh boy, this one's long and I'm so sorry

9. If you could change anything about TMNT, what would it be?

Oooh, that's a good one, I have several answers, if we mean per show

A lot of 2012, less focus on romance, make the women not just love interest (almost all of them did not need that). Also Timothy, so much about that was just wrong.

For Rise, maybe a bit of a longer arc for Splinter's redemption, I get what they were going for, but something like that needs more time.

If we mean about TMNT itself, more Bebop and Rocksteady, more Mona Lisa. I also like going into mystic things more, I love the space stuff they have, but I like the mystic and spiritual stuff, like in IDW

16. What is your favorite theme song?

OOOH, that's a tough one, I love Rise, but I'm also biased since it's my favorite, I love 2012 because of the line "Get rocked with the shell shocked pizza kings", I dream of being a pizza king one day. But I also love 2003 because of the beat, there is also 87 that just brings me joy for some reason.

My answer is I think Rottmnt, but all the others are a close 2nd lol

17. favorite pizza topping(s)?

....... safe answer, peperoni

18. Did any of the voice actors really stand out to you?

To be honest, I love Ben Schwartz (Rise Leo). I loved him in Ducktales and Sonic. He's genuinely funny to me, I watched Middleditch and Schwartz and I loved it (I've heard some things about Middleditch that disappoint me, I am not on his side).

I also really admire Rob Paulsen (87 Raphael, 2012 Donnie, Foot lieutenant), he's got a recognizable voice and a range. He was also the voice director of Rise??? That's cool, they had a good cast

I also really like Josh Brenner's voice, I don't know a lot about him though. I have to say, he looks so sad all the time for some reason and I constantly want to know if he's okay.

I don't know a lot about Brandon Mychal Smith (Rise Mikey), but I like his vibe, he seems like fun.

Sorry about the ramble, I love talking and these were good questions ^^

[docrotten]

THE H-MAN (1958, BIJO TO EKITAI NINGEN) – Episode 173 – Decades Of Horror: The Classic Era

“What if by some bizarre phenomenon, his physical form just melted away? Would that fit your crime scene?” Hmm … bizarre phenomenon? Let’s run with it. Join this episode’s Grue-Crew – Daphne Monary-Ernsdorff, Doc Rotten, and Jeff Mohr along with guest host Chris Peters – as they discuss Toho’s The H-Man (1958), directed by the great Ishirô Honda.

Decades of Horror: The Classic Era Episode 173 – The H-Man (1958)

Join the Crew on the Gruesome Magazine YouTube channel! Subscribe today! And click the alert to get notified of new content! https://youtube.com/gruesomemagazine

ANNOUNCEMENT Decades of Horror The Classic Era is partnering with THE CLASSIC SCI-FI MOVIE CHANNEL, THE CLASSIC HORROR MOVIE CHANNEL, and WICKED HORROR TV CHANNEL Which all now include video episodes of The Classic Era! Available on Roku, AppleTV, Amazon FireTV, AndroidTV, Online Website. Across All OTT platforms, as well as mobile, tablet, and desktop. https://classicscifichannel.com/; https://classichorrorchannel.com/; https://wickedhorrortv.com/

When a narcotics dealer disappears, leaving only his clothes, Tokyo police are stumped. A scientist claims H-Bomb tests in the Pacific have created radioactive creatures – “H-Men” – who ooze like slime and liquify anyone they touch.

  Directed by: Ishirô Honda

Writing Credits: Takeshi Kimura (written by); Hideo Unagami (story)

Produced by: Tomoyuki Tanaka

Music by: Masaru Satô

Cinematography by: Hajime Koizumi

Editing by: Kazuji Taira

Production Design by: Takeo Kita

Special Effects by: Eiji Tsuburaya (director of special effects) 

Selected Cast:

Yumi Shirakawa as Chikako Arai, singer in the nightclub

Kenji Sahara as Dr. Masada

Akihiko Hirata as Inspector Tominaga

Eitarô Ozawa as Police Sgt. Miyashita (as Eitaro Ozawa)

Koreya Senda as Dr. Maki

Makoto Satô as Uchida, gangster

Yoshifumi Tajima as Detective Sakata

Yoshio Tsuchiya as Detective Taguchi

Ayumi Sonoda as Emi, lead exotic dancer

Hisaya Itô as Misaki, the dissolved gangster

Nadao Kirino as Shimazaki, the waiter-thug

Naomi Shiraishi as Mineko, Dr. Maki’s assistant

Tetsu Nakamura as Mr. Chin, gangster

Tadao Nakamaru as Detective Seki

Minosuke Yamada as Chief of Inspectors Kusuda

Akira Sera as Horita – Fisherman

Haruya Katô as Sochan – Fisherman

Yasuhiro Shigenobu as Yasukichi – Fisherman

Senkichi Ômura as Daichan, 1st dissolved fisherman (Let me try on the pants!)

Haruo Nakajima as Chosuke, 2nd dissolved fisherman & Liquid Human Being

Shigeo Katô as Matchan, 3rd dissolved fisherman

Paul Frees as Various Voices (American dubbing)

Are you ready to battle an invasion of liquified men? Watch out, The Blob (1958), The H-Man (1958) is here to make you rue the day. Toho Films and director Ishirô Honda (Godzilla, 1954) blend sci-fi, horror, film noir, and… cabaret… for all kinds of horrifying shenanigans. Yup, people liquify left and right throughout the short 87-minute runtime. That’s right, only gooey globs of clothes and hairpieces remain. Join the Grue-Crew along with special guest-host Chris Peters (aka, José) as they revisit and review this unusual yet highly entertaining entry from the film company that gave the world Akira Kurosawa, Ishirô Honda, Godzilla, Mothra, and so much more.

At the time of this writing, The H-Man is available for streaming from the Classic Horror Movie Channel, Classic Sci-Fi Movie Channel, and Tubi.

You may be interested in these other Decades of Horror episodes focused on Ishirô Honda-directed films:

GODZILLA (1954, GOJIRA) – Episode 58 – Decades of Horror: The Classic Era

HALF HUMAN (JÛ JIN YUKI OTOKO, 1955) – Episode 16 – Decades of Horror: The Classic Era

RODAN (1956) – Episode 101 – Decades of Horror: The Classic Era

MATANGO (1963, ATTACK OF THE MUSHROOM PEOPLE) – Episode 135 – Decades of Horror: The Classic Era

THE WAR OF THE GARGANTUAS (FURANKENSHUTAIN NO KAIJÛ: SANDA TAI GAIRA, 1966) – Episode 57 – Decades of Horror: The Classic Era

SPACE AMOEBA (1970, YOG: MONSTER FROM SPACE) – Episode 127 – Decades of Horror 1970s

TERROR OF MECHAGODZILLA (1975) – Episode 165 – Decades of Horror 1970s

Gruesome Magazine’s Decades of Horror: The Classic Era records a new episode every two weeks. Up next in their very flexible schedule, as chosen by guest host Scott Wells is King of the Zombies (1941), a horror comedy directed by Jean Yarbrough (The Devil Bat, 1940; House of Horrors, 1946; The She-Wolf of London, 1946) and starring Dick Purcell, Joanne Woodbury, Henry Victor, and the great Mantan Moreland.

Please let them know how they’re doing! They want to hear from you – the coolest, grooviest fans: leave them a message or leave a comment on the Gruesome Magazine YouTube channel, the site, or email the Decades of Horror: The Classic Era podcast hosts at feedback@gruesomemagazine.com

To each of you from each of them, “Thank you so much for watching and listening!”

Check out this episode!

[deylightsfictionalcompanion]

A while ago [see: when Stranger Things season 4 first came out] my friend and I were talking about “what would the gang think about Princess Bride? It came out around Halloween of ‘87, so they absolutely would have seen it.” And thus, the story was born.

I haven’t written a story in years [see: because college] until I just sat down one day and cranked out this 12k thing. I wrote this giant Steve Harrington x F! Reader fanfic like it sustained my whole life (it did, though, in a way).

I’m sharing it on tumblr first (it’ll go on AO3 after some minor grammatical edits) because why not.

More under cut

Fandom: Stranger Things

Genre: xReader (thought I hate Y/N so you’re Dustin’s older sister in this as “Ms. Henderson” mostly)

Word Count: 11.9k

Rating: I’m gonna go with Teen but think more CW Teen than normal Teen.

Synopsis: You’ve known Steve since high school. You’ve been apart of the craziness coming from Hawkins since the beginning. And worst of all: you’ve loved Steve ever since he first took your brother under his wing—but you’ve kept it a secret. Until now. All because of The Princess Bride.

Important info: I’m a lover of pop culture, and there’s so much of that in Stranger Things, I’ve tried to keep that feeling. This is why the bulk of the story revolves around The Princess Bride and Halloween. I’ve tried to keep it within a 1987 time frame too, just because.

Tags: #Steves A Dork #Everyone Lives #Eddie/Chrissy is there because I love them both your honor and they deserve nice things when Steve is too busy being in love with you, the reader #Listen I know there’s some small grammatical issues I’ll fix them later #Copious amounts of 80s product placement #Theres some heavy petting but like. Again, nothing worse than what you’d see on the CW #Also Eddie took Will under his wings and they DM together #Robin plays too cause they let her woo princesses #I tried my best and therefore anyone may constructively criticize me #Oh yeah Robin/Vicki are there too because I say so #this is my first time posting fanfic so like please be gentle at a time like this ;)

As You Wish

By Deylightsfictionalcompainion

Somehow the light always felt brighter after coming out of the movie theater. It wasn’t a surprise, given you went to see a matinee on a Thursday and the movie was less than two hours long, but still. That initial shock of stepping out from a darkened theater to the afternoon sun made it difficult for you to see for a while. You imagined it was the same for everyone in the group.

“Do you think when Peter Faulk said ‘As You Wish’ at the end, he was implying that maybe it was his book? Like, you can actually check it out from the library or something?” Robin asked, her rough-cut voice echoing in the parking lot. She held up a hand to her forehead to block the sun and looked back at the rest of the group.

“I very much doubt that, Robin.” Dustin let out a small chuckle. “I’ve skimmed every part of that library and I have never come across a copy of The Princess Bride by S. Morgenstern, let alone one written by Columbo.”

“Well, it still would be cool if it was an actual book to check out. But I guess I’ll just have to look into more movies directed by that guy that plays Michael Stivie from All In The Family. Personally, I think he’s a better director than actor, but that’s just me.” Robin shrugged her shoulders and grabbed the handle to the passenger door of Steve’s car, placing her weight on one foot as she waited for the rest of you to circle around the car and get in.

You caught up to her in no time and leaned in on the hood, watching as Dustin, Eddie, and Steve slowly made their way around.

You’d picked this Sunday to go because most of the group was off. Nancy and Jonathan insisted on watching it as part of their new attempt at foraging a date night together and Mike, El, Will, Max, and Lucas had already seen it last weekend—they actually convinced everyone else that they had to see it too.

“I’d love to make it into a D&D session,” Will had beamed up at Eddie during the last D&D session they’d had together. Eddie had, upon meeting Will, found it necessary to take the kid in under his wing since he was the only one of the boys that he deemed could carry on his title as DM of Hellfire. Will took an instant shining to him, and in return, started to really take his newfound apprenticeship seriously. “I think I could really work in the part about the Pit of Despair and Dread Pirate Roberts lore. You should see it so you can help me get it set up.”

“Very well,” Eddie responded to him, slouched in his chair that somehow survived Jason’s rampage through the club room. It looked a little out of place sitting in the basement of Steve’s perfectly primmed house—but Eddie had insisted if Hellfire (at least for the summer) was to continue, he’d need his chair. And since Steve was tired of being a taxi service from one end of Hawkins to the next, he’d given up and let the club just meet up in his [empty] house. “I will see The Princess Bride whenever the Henderson’s convince Harrington to take us. See for myself if I can accurately get a feel for how to home brew the storyline into Hellfire’s campaign trail.”

Dustin immediately started to bounce at the thought and turned to look at you. “You gotta convince him.” He said, his eyes shining in the way he knew you couldn’t resist. “I’m all out of favors to ask him this month, and I don’t wanna push my luck asking for another ride.”

You sighed, closing the book you were reading (well, half-reading. Sometimes the campaign they’d play was exciting enough to catch your interest, and you’d tune in to the boys—and Robin, who weirdly got into the game one night when she found out both Will and Eddie would let her seduce princesses—as they’d play). “I’ll ask him next shift. But you owe me chore duty for a week without mom knowing.”

Dustin bounced harder. “Absolutely. It’s a deal.”

Which is how you found yourself leaning over the counter, pleading with Steve the next day.

“Come on, Steve,” you’d said to him as you watched him restock the shelves of Family Video—something you honestly hadn’t expected to still be working at after the events of ’86, yet you, Robin, and Steve all got to come back. “It’s an action-adventure story. Mostly. Just a little bit of romance. And if you watch it now, you’ll be able to recommend it better once it comes to the store. Maybe woo a few hearts with it?

“It’s not the movie, Ms. Henderson,” Steve complained as he shook his head, his hair swaying. He finished putting back the last of his VHS tapes and looked up at you. “Why do I always have to be the one that drives?”

“Not that you don’t make a point,” your words fumbling out of your mouth, still trying to become used to him calling you ‘Ms. Henderson’ after you made a joke one day last week when Janet Jackson’s Nasty came on the radio. “But do you really want me to drive? I already convinced Robin to come along with Dustin and Eddie—so you know they’ll just end up dragging you along regardless—and it would be a shame to have me, the only other licensed driver of this particular bunch, drive. Especially because last time, you compared it to—”

“Max,” he sighed, placing a hand on his hip and closing his eyes. “Never again. You’re as bad as Max.”

“She’s gotten better, you know.”

“Don’t want to.”

“So you’ll drive?” You smiled at him—the one that seemed to always work, since more than once you caught him signing and closing his eyes when you’d break it out.

“Robin and I are off Thursday,” he sighed, closing his eyes.

You bounced—a Henderson trait, it seemed—and leaned farther over the counter to give him a quick hug. “Perfect. It’s a date then, Steve.” You turned around and walked over to the return bin, only half listening to Steve as he mumbled under his breath and walked towards the back of the store.

“So boys,” you said as they each got to the car, opening it and sliding in, your tone curious. “Thoughts?”

Steve started up the engine and turned down the radio. “Loved it.” He took one look in the review mirror at you and smiled before placing the car in reverse and exiting the parking spot.

“I can absolutely see how Will and I could work this into a session or two for Hellfire,” Eddie grinned, shifting in his seat so he faced you and Dustin. “Those ROUS’s would be fun to work with. And the kid was right about the Pit of Despair. God damn title for a campaign if I’ve ever heard of one. Plus I think even our little Robin would enjoy this campaign,” he turned his attention toward the passenger seat, reaching a hand to place on Robin’s shoulder. “Up for saving a princess, Buckley?”

Robin turned back to face Eddie and smirked. “Always down for saving a damsel in distress, Munson. Especially if she’s anything like that Buttercup. Ugh. Talk about Hot. I even enjoyed the romance aspect of the film, believe it or not. And that’s so totally not my thing.”

Eddie leaned back into the seat of the car. “The romance wasn’t so bad. I think I should take Chrissy when she comes home from State. She’d love it, and I’d get a chance to analyze it better.” He flashed a smile for a second before glancing quickly out of the window to hide it.

You smiled at his bashfulness, happy that Eddie and Chrissy had finally started dating after countless hours of flirting back and forth—including when he’d played Master of Puppets in dedication to her, and she, in turn, saved his life when he heroically tried to buy them time with the Demobats. He’d nearly been inconsolable when she’d finally left to attend Indiana State University in the fall, but he’d been so proud of her for getting in he’d put on a brave face until her visits back to Hawkins would come up. “I’m sure she’d appreciate the chance to see it with you,” you said, tapping Eddie’s leg and bringing him back to the present.

“Ah, yeah. Anyway,” Eddie coughed, clearing the air. “What about you? Thoughts?”

“It was sweet. Billy Crystal and Carol Kane were probably my favorite part, though. I’m also strangely craving peanuts now too.”

“Peanuts after Hellfire, please,” Dustin said, looking at you. “Will’s been waiting for us since I told him we were seeing the matinee.”

“God, Henderson, you’re going to make me drive out again to get your club snacks, aren’t you?” Steve glanced into his review mirror, his eyebrows slightly raised. “Why can’t you guys ever just eat what I’ve got at the house?”

“Because dingus,” Robin chimed in, “when you sit in on the game you try to justify every choice that we make, and I’m tired of having to explain how things work to you. It’s fantasy. You’re not supposed to sit there and question how spells work. We have to give you reasons not to bug us every five minutes.”

Steve opened his mouth for a moment before quickly closing it. He fiddled a bit with the driving wheel before quickly flicking his eyes up to the review mirror to look at you. “Fine. But since Ms. Henderson doesn’t play, she’s got to come on snack duty with me. Especially because she’s the one that wants the damn peanuts.”

You look back at him through the mirror. “I suppose that’s only fair. But it’s on your dime, Harrington.”

Steve clenched his eyes in defeat and turned the corner, mumbling under his breath again, his big, brown eyes glancing up at you every so often for the rest of the way back to his place.

…

“And that,” Will said, his voice echoing around the room, “is where we’ll have to leave off for tonight.”

The group around him made a collective of noises, disappointed that their session had ended, once again, on a cliff hanger.

“Lady Applejack could have had time to cast a spell, if you hadn’t stopped there, Byers,” Erica chided, closing her trapper keeper and shoving it under her arm. “She better get first turn next week, or you’re going to suffer for it.”

Will turned to look at Eddie, who was smiling with what looked like pride in his eyes. “You’re DMing next week, that’s on you, Eddie.”

Eddie simply nodded his head from his chair and looked at Erica. “Lady Applejack shall get the first roll next week, don’t you worry, Erica.”

Erica smiled. “Good. Come on, Lucas. Mom said we better not be late for dinner tonight, and I’m not going to be the one to have to deal with her and dad because you can’t say goodbye to your friends fast enough.”

Lucas turned to face the group. “See you all later,” he said, following Erica up the stairs. Mike followed them shortly after, muttering something about going to meet up with El early tomorrow, leaving you, Will, Eddie, Dustin, Robin, and Steve sitting around the basement.

“So,” Will began, turning his chair to face Eddie’s. “What do you think about my idea for a Princess Bride themed session?”

Eddie smiled. “I think we could make something work out.”

Will’s face lit up. “Great! What were your thoughts?”

You put down the book you’d been half-heartly reading and got up from your chair, walking over to the stairs to head up and get a drink while they talked. It wasn’t that you weren’t curious—you were—but you’d been waiting until the session ended to go up and get yourself a refill on the Coke Steve had in his fridge.

“Mind if I join you?” Steve said, following you up the stairs. “Robin refuses to leave this conversation to get herself some snacks. Said she needs to make sure the princess arc in it is challenging enough or something.”

You nodded your head as you continued up and turned to wait for him until you were both off the stairs and in the Harrington kitchen. “I only half listen into their sessions—more for the plot than game play. Plus it’s fun to watch Dustin have fun again. Thanks for letting Hellfire make base here.” You walked over to the fridge and opened it, pulling out a can of Coke for yourself. A quick open, the fizzing noise echoing in the room, and you take a swig before pulling back the bar stool from the kitchen’s island counter and sitting down. “I don’t know if I’ve ever really thanked you for being there for Dustin in a way I couldn’t, really.”

“Henderson’s a good kid. And I know you’re an amazing sister to him. But I get it,” Steve opened up a cupboard and pulled out a bag of microwave popcorn. He walked over to the microwave and popped it in, hitting some buttons until it turned on, and swung around to face you, his hips lightly resting on the edge of the counter. “Not that the little shit gave me much of a choice in the matter, but he really just needed some man-to-man conversations. Pain in my ass, still. But he’s grown on me. All those little shitheads have grown on me. They’re like—”

You take another sip of Coke and smile slightly up at Steve. “Your chicken nuggets?”

The microwave dinged and Steve blinked. “You talked to Nancy, didn’t you?”

You tactically looked around the room, taking yet another sip. “It…may have come up the day we helped Chrissy pack for State.”

Steve lowered his head, carefully turning around to open up the microwave and take out the popcorn, shaking it sadly to make sure all the pieces were covered in the fake butter from the packaging.

“Steve,” you said, your tone shifting into one of sympathetic laughter, “hey. Listen.” You got up from the stool and walked over to him, lightly placing a hand on his shoulder. “I think it’s really great that you want to have a big family. You’re good with them…even if you go around calling them shitheads all the time. You’ve kept them all safe, just like they were you own. You taught them important things, and helped them out when they asked, and most importantly?”

He turned to face you, popcorn bag in hand, his brown eyes wide and looking up at you through his lashes. It catches your breath for a second—enough for you to feel your heart skip a beat—and you have to close your own eyes to finish your sentence. “Y-you never fail to always keep on with that charming Harrington attitude. I know you hate always being the god damn babysitter, but Steve?”

His full attention is on you now, and you can feel yourself getting closer to him; his face inches from yours. “You are a genuine, caring person underneath all that hair.”

“HEY DINGUSES,” Robin’s voice shouted from the bottom of the basement stairs. “I can smell the popcorn! What is taking you so long?”

Steve backed away from you, and you turned around to grab your coke, your cheeks surely as red as they feel hot.

“Coming, your Highness,” Steve yelled out, “Or whatever it is you call yourself.”

“Dame Gaylord, for the record, Steve.” She called up. “Just hurry up with the popcorn, I’m starving down here!”

Steve looked over at you, shrugging his shoulders as he walked back down the stairs, popcorn bag in hand.

You gulp and sit down for a moment back on the stool, cradling your hands in your face.

What was that, you think, staring at the off-white counter. Did…am I going crazy? Or was that—you shake your head.

Your crush on Steve wasn’t new to you, but it had never seemed to be more than one sided. You had painfully made yourself make sure he never noticed it. So why now? Did he notice it now?

It started when you were both still in high school—he was the king of Hawkins high: all smiles, all suave charm, the way he carried himself…you couldn’t help it—but as you grew to know him, especially as he started to interact more with Dustin, taking him under his wing and helping him out; as you watched him time and time again put himself first to protect you and the rest of the gang, never failing to keep a smile on his face even in the most drastic, dangerous situations—your crush developed beyond a schoolgirl trope. You fell hard for Steve Harrington. It was hard at first to keep those feeling in check. Once or twice you had to hide your blush from him and shake it off cleverly, smiling and laughing, or changing the subject to something you know he could talk about for a ridiculous amount of time. You were pretty sure that he had no idea how much you liked him.

That is.

Until now.

The carbonated fizzle from the can of Coke beside you shook you from your thoughts, and you grabbed the can, chugging down half of it before walking back downstairs.

“But what I’m hearing,” Dustin’s voice rang through the basement, “is that you have tomorrow off.”

“I said I would think about calling off tomorrow—” Steve began, his hands planted firmly on his hips.

“Matty owes us time, Steve,” Robin said, tossing popcorn into her mouth. “We haven’t taken a day off since our shifts started back up this summer.”

You walked over to Eddie, who had his legs swung over the arm of his chair. “What exactly did I miss here, Munson?”

Eddie looked at you, a smile spreading across his face. “Midnight ride. Dustin’s trying to book us an overnight stay to finish plotting out Will’s Princess Bride session while the memory is still fresh in our heads. I know you’ve got the day off tomorrow, and I took afternoon shift at Motorwork’s. So, it’s all about convincing Harrington.”

You looked back over at Steve, who was slowly losing the battle against your brother and Robin. You couldn’t help but tilt your head a little bit and smile. He’d cave. He always caved for those two.

“Word has it, Henderson,” Eddie adjusted how he was sitting and leaned in closer to you, his hair brushing against the back of your head. “That all it would take to get him to cave right this minute is a smile from you.”

You snap your head to face Eddie, your brows knit. “On whose authority?” You questioned, your tone coming out angrier than you meant.

“I have eyes, Henderson. Unfortunately,” he leaned back into his chair, crossing his ankles and linking his hands together to support the back of his head. “I also know that sometimes our own eyes fail us at seeing the bigger picture when everyone else already can.”

You stared at him for a moment, your expression unchanging. Eddie was an assortment of flavors—you’d seen him go from being a chaotic punk to screaming child to love sick puppy in under 24 hours—but he never said anything that wasn’t true. And that would also mean that earlier…you weren’t imagining…

“How long,” your voice was quieter as you leaned back towards Eddie. “Have you noticed?”

“For you, darling?” He smirked. “First time I saw you two together. You were worse than I was with Chrissy.”

You bit your lip slightly. “And him?”

“Now, what would be the fun in telling you that?” He brought his arms back down off of his head and rubbed them on his thighs. “All I know is that if I had that kind of power over Harrington—and believe me, I’ve tried—I wouldn’t waste it.”

You blinked. A shiver ran down your spine and something inside your head—a usually very, very quiet voice—rang out. “If you won’t tell me,” you began, your eyes now focused on Steve, who was standing with both hands on his hips, slowly deflating under the weight of Dustin and Robin’s harassment. “Then at least help me figure out how to harness it.”

Eddie’s face lit up. He chuckled as he straightened out on his chair, his feet landing firmly on the floor. “Didn’t you say you wanted peanuts earlier?”

“Steve,” your voice came out louder than you anticipated, “call off tomorrow. It’s a Friday in October and the theater has better options. Matty can handle one night. Besides, you deserve a day off. Not to mention that I still want peanuts, and we’ve yet to go out and get some. We can pick up stuff to make for breakfast while we’re out.”

Steve looked at you, eyebrows raised. His stance softened a little and he tilted his head. “Why are you—”

“Are you seriously questioning my sister right now, Harrington? Go get her the damn peanuts. And pick up some Tang for the morning!” Dustin said, slapping Steve’s back.

You smiled—the one that seemed to always work; the one Eddie had noticed and said something about to you—and you watched. You watched as Steve sighed and closed his eyes.

“Anything else I can get for you assholes here at Harrington’s Bed and Breakfast?”

…

The drive out to the store felt awkward to you, but you did your best to ensure that it didn’t feel like that for Steve. It was hard, though, now that you’d had Eddie confirm Steve clearly had feelings for you to keep your usual calm, playful demeaner you’d worked so hard on the past several years. You’d tried simply keeping the volume up on the radio—you both loved to sing along to it, despite the fact that neither of you were exceptionally good at it—but that only worked until Tiffany’s I Think We’re Alone Now came on, and you couldn’t help but think that whoever was working the radio at the time was playing a cruel, cruel joke on you.

“I thought you loved this song,” Steve said, shifting his head quickly to look at you after you went to change the station. “Why change it?”

He reached over your hand and changed it back, turning it up.

“I think we’re alone now,” he sang at you, loudly. “There doesn’t seem to be anyone around.” He shook his shoulders and tapped the steering wheel in time to the song. “Come on, Ms. Henderson. Don’t even try to deny it. I’ve seen you sing this song into your hairbrush.”

“The beating of our hearts is the only sound.” You sang back at him, the smile returning to your face.

“There she is! That’s my girl,” he chuckled. He turned the volume up louder and you both sang along to the rest of the song until finally you pulled into the Kroger parking lot and he pulled into a spot, killed the engine, and turned to face you.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Steve said, looking at you, his brown eyes darker in the florescent glow of the parking lot lights.

“I am just focused on our task at hand,” you waved your hand at him and reached down to unbuckle your seatbelt. “That’s all.”

“Getting peanuts shouldn’t distract you enough that you change the radio station like that. I know you better, give me a little credit.”

You turned to face him, taking in how he was propped up in his chair; one arm over top the steering wheel, the other linked back around the seat. “I…I,” you had no idea how to bring out the question do you like me like I like you? in any manner that wouldn’t be embarrassing, so you just said the first thing that came out of your mouth instead. “I am just trying to think about how the boys and Robin are going to put The Princess Bride into their campaign.”

Steve blinked back at you. “S-sure.” He said, not quite believing you, you could tell, but also too polite to call you out on what clearly was a lie. “I mean, if they had asked me, I would have told them to focus mainly on the dread pirate Roberts stuff and go from there.”

The look you gave Steve was one you couldn’t stop yourself from making even if you tried. “Have you thought about this? I thought you didn’t understand D&D?”

“Yeah, well, I don’t get how you play that stupid game, but I know how to tell a story, thank you very much.” He said, taking his hand out from behind his seat and turning himself front facing. “I watched the same movie you guys did. In fact,” his tone in voice shifted, one that sounded like it had a bit of pride mixed in with shame. “I’ve seen the movie twice already.”

“When the fuck did you have time to see the movie?” You blurted out, unable to stop yourself.

“First time was on a date with…Stacey? Or maybe Sandy. Can’t remember. Second time was by myself, because Stacey-slash-Sandy was too busy trying to stick her tongue down my throat for me to pay attention to the movie. And I just. Really wanted to pay attention to it. It was a good movie.” He sighed and turned to face you. “That’s why when you asked me to drive you all to the theater, I wasn’t upset about the movie choice.”

You blinked. Fast at first, and then slowly a second time. “Steve Harrington likes a rom com.”

“You make it sound like I’m not allowed to enjoy movies with romance in them.” Steve said, offended.

“No, it’s not that. I just. Never pegged you for someone who would go see a movie like that on your own. The date thing I get. Me and the rest of the gang dragging you to a movie, yes. But on your own?”

“Yeah, well, a lot about me had changed in these last few years, if you hadn’t noticed. Though you should,” he said, his hand coming up to rest on your shoulder. You shivered. “You’ve been there alongside me. Hell, helped me change even. I’ve got a lot to thank you for, Ms. Henderson.”

You smiled at him, soft; warm. “Really?”

“Shit yeah, Henderson. You seem to genuinely care about me and call me out on my bullshit when I need it.” He looked down and smiled, his voice shifting in tone. “You’ve helped pick me back up and sewn me back together after all those times I’ve taken a beating; shown me how to grow and find ways to be part of the solution rather than the problem. I’m really lucky to have you in my life.”

The red in your face burned. But you didn’t care. “Steve, I—”

He cut you off with a single look up through his eyelashes. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while now. But I’ve never had the chance to. Until now.” He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he leaned in closer to you. “I’ve had a crush on you for a while now. I just didn’t know how to tell you in case you didn’t feel the same way I did. I didn’t want to ruin what we already have by putting my feelings into the mix. But I have to tell you now. Especially after what almost happened in the kitchen. I’d regret it if I didn’t.”

You stared at him. For several seconds, unsure of what to do. It was like being caught in headlights.

He stared back; tried to lean back to give you your space, his hopeful smile starting to faulter, but you grabbed his hand tightly in yours and squeezed. “Steve, I…” you start, your brain firing off thoughts in different directions and your mouth unable to release any of them.

“Hey,” he said, patting your hand. “It’s okay. I get it if you—”

You pulled him in and lightly placed a kiss to his lips, messy and simple, because it’s all you could think to do to let him know how you feel; that his feelings were reciprocated.

When you pull back, Steve’s eyes were closed, his mouth slightly opened. You stared at him like this, wondering if what you did was the right move when his eyes snapped open and his mouth spread into the biggest grin you’d ever seen.

“I am going to take that as a positive sign,” he said before leaning in closer to you. He grabbed both of your hands and looked down at them, his thumbs rubbing random patterns into your palm. “But I would really, really love it if you’d say something.”

You looked down at your hands, your brain still processing what you’d just done, unable to look at him in the eye yet.

“Hey,” Steve lifted up your chin and brushed your hair carefully behind your ear. “I’m kinda sticking myself out on a limb right now and I could use some good old Henderson comforting I’ve come to love.”

Your brain finally stopped. “I’ve had a crush on you for a while, too.”

“That was what I was hoping you’d say,” he said, bringing his face in closer to yours, inches from your mouth. “There’s just one more thing I’m hoping for, though.”

You looked up from his mouth and into his eyes, confusion swirling in your thoughts.

“There is?” You breathed, so close to him you could hear the beat of his heart and smell his shampoo.

“Tell me that I can finally kiss you.” He whispered. “A real one.”

You smiled—the same one you’ve used so many times before. “Absolutely.”

Steve smiled back. “Have I ever told you that that little smile of yours does things to me that I’m not particularly proud to admit in detail yet?”

“Steve,” you plead, your arm now reached up and carded through his hair.

“Tell me I can kiss you again?” He said, his lips brushing against yours and his nose nudging your cheek.

“For you, Harrington?” you said, bringing him in closer. “You can kiss me any time you want.”

You felt his smile as he kissed you; light and soft at first, quickly turning into something deeper as he slid his hand from the base of your jaw to your ear, slowly combing through your hair as he cupped the back of your head. It was breathless and loving, unlike any kiss you’d had before. You lost yourself within his embrace and it was only when he bit your bottom lip, pulling you closer and tilting your head that you were able to catch your breath. In doing so, you moved your hand to his shoulder and forced yourself to pull apart, deep breaths taking over you both and fogging up the windows surrounding you.

“That was—” you started, your focus still lingering on his mouth.

“Worth the wait,” he finished, resting his forehead on yours. He grinned and leaned back in again to steal two more kisses from your lips before you pushed yourself off of him again, giggling.

“Steve,” you protested as he turned his head and began gently placing kisses along your jawline and down to your neck. “Steve, we’ve still got to go in and get those peanuts or everyone’s going to get suspicious.”

“Who gives a shit about what they think,” Steve said in-between kisses. “We’re alone now. I’ve finally got you all to myself, and I don’t want to waste a second of that.”

You felt a jolt of electricity tingle in your head and it softened your eyes. You could just forget about everything for a while—enjoy they fact that Steve Harrington was here, kissing you after professing his crush. And wouldn’t that be enough?

You grabbed Steve’s head, pulling him up so you could look him soundly in the eyes. His hair was messy, his pupils blown, and his lips plump from kissing you. He looked almost feral—flushed and salacious—but still soft, comforting, gentle. “I promise,” you stroked his cheek with your thumb, doing your best to hold his attention. “I won’t let you waste any second you’re with me. But there will be so much more time for that if we get what we came for and go back to your place. Steve,” you gave him a quick kiss, reminding him you were still there with him, “the quicker we do this, the quicker I can show you just how long I’ve waited for you.”

Steve stared at you, his eyes trained on yours.

“Because there’s only so much I can show you in a car. It’s…a little cramped. I expect your bed will accommodate many more things.”

He pulled himself from your grasp at that, and you watched as your words ignited a fire in him. “Pancakes or French toast for breakfast?” He said, opening up the car door and swinging his leg out. “Come on, Ms. Henderson. Let’s go! Move your ass, we’ve got things to take care of. Mainly…me.”

“As you wish,” you chuckled as you opened the door and stepped out in the cold night air.

…

Halloween was Saturday. The Byers were throwing a party because the kids all complained they were too old for trick-or-treating, and you and Steve had decided to go in on a couples costume as The Princess Bride herself and The Dread Pirate Roberts.

Steve was more excited about it than you—he hadn’t stopped telling everyone about how much he loved the film (even though Robin, sick of hearing him quote the movie endlessly at her, threatened to push him down a hill if he didn’t stop it at work), and he was quick to ask you about doing couples costumes once he stopped prompting make-out sessions.

“I didn’t take Steve Harrington for one wanting to do couples costumes.” You said when he’d asked you.

“What can I say?” He responded, hand on his hip. “I like to surprise people. Plus I’ve been thinking about all the things I used to be—who I was in high school—really wasn’t who I wanted to be. It was all some deliberate attempt to be someone my father wanted me to be. Everything that people say you should care about, it’s all just bullshit. When I’m with you, I feel like I can drop the bullshit and just be myself. And myself is someone who wants to do a couples costume with you from a really good movie.”

You stepped closer to him and grabbed his hand, kissing his cheek and smiling. “That is why I started liking you in the first place. Because I watched you challenge yourself to be the best possible version of you that you could be.”

Steve blushed. “Turns out all I needed was a thump on the head to change my life. And I’m grateful for it every single damn day.”

You cupped his face and rubbed your thumb along his cheek before pulling him into a hug. “I am too.”

“I’ll see you and Dustin after my shift tonight.” He said, breaking away from the hug. “You’re going to have to tell me how you convinced Matty to give you the best shifts when I get there.”

You laughed. “I don’t get the best shifts. I just get lucky. I also don’t spend half of my shift trying to flirt with you, Steve.”

Steve shifted his stance. “You saying you want me to stop, Henderson?”

“No,” you chuckled. “I’m just saying Matty doesn’t do love-sick.” And love-sick was probably the best way to describe Steve ever since last Thursday. It was almost like he couldn’t get his fill of you—stolen glances as you two put movies back on shelves; winks and nods while on lunch; a stealthy grabbing of your hand as he walked you to his car at the end of a shift, a passionate kiss sometimes on the hood that left you both aching for something more.

Those days were the best, because as he drove you back home, anticipatory for intimacy, you’d talk. About your day, about your struggles and excitements and plans for the not-so-distant future dates you’d take. The make-out sessions you’d had in his car were amazing (Steve was an excellent kisser. More importantly, he was good with his hands. The way he’d cup your face, his thumb on your jawline, fingers behind your ear. How it slowly slid back until he held the base of your skull and moved your head so he could get the best angle. How his other hand carefully caressed your back and slid to your hips…or sometimes…sometimes, when the day had been particularly stressful, he’d reach around and lift up the side of your shirt to cup your breast, teasing your nipple in such a way that it would send a wave of pleasure through you and create a small hitch in your breath that always produced a toothy smirk from him. This was, of course, followed by a pull on your lips so forceful it dragged your entire head forward and allowed the kiss to become deeper—his mouth opening yours and his tongue finding its way inside. You’d get him back, though. After the kiss deepened, you’d push him backward and climb on top of him, running your fingers through his ridiculously perfect hair; starting at the base of his neck and grabbing and pulling it slightly once your whole hand had found its way into the feathered layers. Then you’d grind into him a little bit until you could feel the bulge in his pants, give him your own deepened kiss until you could hear him moan, and then…excuse yourself off of him, kiss him one last time—soundly on his cheek or forehead or a peck on the lips—and bid him goodnight, enjoying the dazed and confused look he gave as he watched you walk up to the front door and blow him a kiss before stepping inside) but those conversations before then were something even better. You’d always been close to Steve, but this was new territory. And it felt…right.

“Lucky, sure.” Steve picked up a bunch of VHS tapes and walked over to an aisle. “I’ll see you tonight, Ms. Henderson.”

…

“Hey,” Dustin called through your closed door, knocking once before letting himself in. “I just need a bit of help getting my hair just right.”

You looked him up and down, smiling at your brother’s costume. “Han Solo. I am guessing Suzie is Leia?”

“Yeah. We’re going to be calling each other later tonight to watch Empire Strikes Back together over the phone.” He sighed, sitting down on your vanity chair. “But for now, I’d like some help getting my hair to be less curls, more poof.”

You chuckled and moved towards him to help. “No problem.”

“Are you and Steve going as Princess Buttercup and Westley? Your costume looks spot-on.”

“We are. And thanks, Steve sewed it himself.”

Dustin broke away from your comb and turned to face you. “Steve knows how to sew?”

“He took Home Economics our sophomore year to impress some girls and wound up actually enjoying it. Says it was worth the entire class because now he knows how to hem his pants and cook basic meals—which he also thought doubled his chance at being able to woo women.” You turned Dustin back to face the mirror and started to brush out his curls again, taming them with whatever product you could find so they fanned out around his face.

“I have heard the ladies love a man who knows how to cook,” he said, watching you work in the mirror, a giant grin on his face.

“Ladies love a man that knows how to take care of themselves, Dustin. That’s like…bare minimum qualification. Know how to take care of yourself, which includes being able to ask for help when you need it. And, suffice to say little brother, you’ve got that down.” You applied some hair spray to the top of Dustin’s head and leaned down so your face was right next to his. “Suzie is one lucky lady to have a guy like you.”

“Thanks,” his face turned a light shade of red. “But I feel like I’m the lucky one.” He took one last look in the mirror before he got up and headed toward your door. “I’ll be downstairs with Steve, attempting to calm mom down about us leaving for the night. But don’t take too long. I’m starving, and Argyle is supposed to be bringing pizza. I want to get there before there’s nothing but pineapple left.”

You smiled. “Be down in a minute, then.”

It was time for the final check. You walked over to your mirror to look at your reflection. Buttercup’s head piece was neatly pinned into the cheap wig you’d picked up and her belt was securely wrapped around your waist. The bottom of the bright red dress was hemmed perfectly so that it fell down at your ankles and you smiled in spite of yourself, feeling like an actual princess. You only got to see Steve’s costume once while he was giving you yours, but it wasn’t on him—just casually draped over the back of a chair. In fact, the only part of the ‘costume’ you’d gotten to see at all was the thin little mustache Steve had been growing since you agreed to do the couples costume. It was a good look for him, actually.

A final brush of your dress and you opened your door.

“Dustin said you were almost ready, but to try and convince you to come down faster so he wouldn’t be stuck with pine—wow.” Steve took a step back from your door, glancing at you up and down. “That dress really. It really works for you.”

You grinned and looked down at the dress. “Thanks. You don’t look so bad yourself.”

Steve regained his composure and took a bow. “At your service. M’lady.”

You giggled and pushed past him, heading for the stairs. You could have stayed there, in your doorway, eyeing him up and down in that costume though. His pants were a little tighter than the ones Cary Elwes wore, and the thread that was supposed to lightly fasten the top of his shirt was loose, exposing the top of his chest hair. He’d yet to put on the mask and black cloth around his hair, but that was what made it better. But if you did that, you knew you’d never get to the party on time and Dustin would berate you for missing the non-pineapple pizza for the next three weeks.

“Let’s get going to the party, less Han over here gets stuck with pineapple pizza,” you called out as you descended the staircase. “We’ll be home late tonight, mom. If you desperately need us, call the Byers.”

“Finally!” Dustin threw his hands up and opened up the front door. “Let’s go, Harrington! Get your ass down here so we can leave.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get your panties in a twist, Henderson.” Steve said, trailing out the door and unlocking his car. “We still have to pick up Robin and Vicki.”

You followed them both out, blowing a kiss to your mom before shutting the door behind you and heading towards Steve’s car.

“Why are you always the chauffeur?” Dustin asked, opening up the backseat and sliding in.

“You know, Henderson? I ask myself that same god damn question every single time I get in my car.” The engine roared to life. “If you—either of you—want to tell me how I ended up with this job, I’d really like to know.”

…

Hopper opened up the door, his skin painted green and a brown suit swimming on his body. “Glad you kids could make it!” He said, moving to the side to let you all in. “Argyle’s late with the pizza, but we’ve broken out snacks until he gets here.”

“Thanks, Hopper.” Dustin said, pushing past him. “Good to know I won’t miss out on the good pizza.”

You smiled as you walked past Hopper, your hand holding Steve’s.

“Well, that’s new.” Hooper closed the door and turned back around to face you. “When did this happen?”

“A couple weeks ago,” Steve said, gripping your hand tighter. “But it’s been a long time coming.”

Hopper laughed. “I know the feeling. Joyce is around here somewhere, make sure you tell her the party’s going great. She’s been on edge since this morning about decorations and party games. Even though I told her you kids were probably just going to end up playing that game you guys always play. Or watching whatever monster flick is on the tube tonight.”

“Will do, Herman.” You nodded your head at Hop, letting a single chuckle escape your mouth.

“And here I thought you kids wouldn’t get The Munsters reference.” Hopper smoothed down his jacket, grabbing it by the lapels once done.

You smiled and pulled Steve forward into the living room, where you found everyone else sitting around, talking.

“I see Buttercup and Westley have made their grand entrance, finally.” Eddie said, standing up from his seat to walk over to you. “M’Lady,” he made a swift bow when he reached you, his hair falling down in front of his face and his arm raised behind him. “Glad to see that you could make it with Harrington, in matching costume, no less.”

Steve pushed Eddie back slightly on the shoulder and grinned. “Looks like we’re not the only one in matching costume.” He pointed towards Chrissy, who was busy talking to Nancy.

“Aragorn and Arwen, from Tolkien’s masterpiece, dude.” Eddie grinned, his face going soft when he looked at Chrissy. “I sent her with all the books to read while at State. She’s really gotten into them. She’s the one who suggested we go as Aragorn and Arwen, and I couldn’t pass up an opportunity to dress as the great Strider.”

Steve’s expression turned into one you recognized as confusion. “This is like, related to that Mordor thing, isn’t it?”

“Lord of The Rings, Harrington.” Eddie patted him on the back. “It’s a good thing you’re pretty.”

“Alright!” You clapped your hands, walking farther into the room. “Who’s ready to finally have some fun for once?”

“I know I am,” you turned to see Max approach you, dressed as Freddy Kruger—or, at least you thought that’s what she was going as from the looks of her sweater and hat.

“Bit too much on the nose, don’tcha think, Red?” Eddie sat down next to Chrissy, who beamed up at him, and wrapped his arm around her.

“Thought it was funny. Plus I wanted an excuse to wear a sweater and jeans,” Max said, plopping down on the couch across from where you stood. “Lucas wanted us to do a couples costume this year, but he and I couldn’t agree on one we both liked. So, I chose Freddie Kruger, and he—”

“Decided to go as The Terminator,” Lucas finished, walking into the room wearing a leather jacket and a pair of sunglasses. “I ran out of time at the last minute because someone didn’t want to do The Breakfast Club with me.”

“Sorry Lucas,” Max said. “But I’m no princess. No offense,” she added, looking at you and Chrissy.

“Oh, none taken, Max! Truth be told,” Chrissy said, adjusting her legs so they no longer crossed. “I always hated being shoved into that princess stereotype, so I understand. Before I met you guys, I didn’t think I’d ever be able to break it.”

“With that roundhouse you’ve got,” Eddie beamed, “I never doubted for a second you were anything but a terrifying badass.”

“Yeah Chrissy,” Dustin chimed in. “Who’d a thought you could take out so many demobats with backflips and cheer movies. Most metal thing I’ve ever seen.”

Chrissy blushed, tucking away a strand of strawberry blonde hair behind her ear. “Thanks guys. And also, just for the record, Arwen isn’t a princess. She’s the daughter of Elrond; Lady of Rivendell and later Queen of the Reunited Kingdom.”

Eddie placed a kiss to the side of Chrissy’s head. “That’s my girl.”

You chuckled and shook your head, turning to face Max. “Believe me, Max. I don’t think anyone here is princess material, despite their costumes.”

“I thought about being a princess,” El chimed in, her hair piled in curls on top of her head. “But then Mike and I went to see Alien and I thought I would make a much better Ellen Ripley.”

You turned to get a better look at El and realized she was in a near-perfect replica jumpsuit, complete with a stuffed cat and plastic gun slung around her.

“You make an excellent Ripley, El,” Lucas said, opening up a piece of candy from the table in the middle of the room. “You’d also give her a run for her money. Not that I think you two would fight. But….that might be a cool match to see.”

You leaned over to Steve to let him know you were going to go grab something to drink before walking out of the living room and towards the kitchen. The Byers’ house was a lot bigger now that Hopper and Joyce were living together and you could tell it was slowly becoming well-loved. Pictures hung up in the hallway on your way there: Will smiling as he was painting, Jonathan contemplating in the background; El and Will sitting on the couch reading together; Jonathan and El sitting on the floor of the living room, headphones on and listening to music; Joyce and Hopper smiling and looking at each other, snow on the ground with Christmas lights in the background; all five of the found family laughing around a table covered in pumpkin guts from last year’s Halloween. It was comforting to know that they were able to create a sense of normalcy again after all the trauma they’d endured the past couple of years.

“Princess Buttercup.” Will’s voice, now deeper than it had been just a summer ago, caught you off guard as you entered the kitchen.

“Luke Skywalker.” You took a step back, your head tilted to get a better look at his costume.

Will smiled before pulling down on the black sweater he was wearing. “I’m glad you know who I am.”

“I’m sorry sweetie,” Joyce bent down and put a glass pan that appeared to be full of cheese inside the oven. “I’m sure he’s a wonderful character from that film series you and Jonathan won’t stop talking about. I’m just a little preoccupied at the moment.”

“Mrs. Byers,” you said, as you took a step closer to her, “do you need any help with that?”

“Sweetheart,” she replied, adjusting her long, black wig that had fallen forward on her face. “I’ve told you—all of you kids, actually—Joyce is just fine. Thanks for the offer, but I’ve got it handled!”

“She’s just making some nachos to tide us over until Argyle gets here, whenever that may be.” Will said as he walked over to the kitchen table to put on a belt. “I could use your help with this, though. I couldn’t find a scabbard to wear, but I did manage to construct Luke’s lightsaber and belt just right. I even found a pair of boots at the thrift shop that work. But…I can’t seem to get it on without help.”

“No problem,” you stepped forward and turned Will around to help attach the belt.

“I’m guessing that Steve is dressed as Westley?” Will questioned, his head turning slightly to the side to see your face.

“Yeah. It was his idea too. He’s seen the movie something like three times now and convinced me we’d be the perfect Buttercup and Westley.”

Will let out a small laugh. “I’m glad you guys are going out. It was painfully obvious to everyone else that you two needed to end up together—”

“God, every single time we had Murray over for dinner he wouldn’t stop talking about putting you both in a room rother until you came out a couple.” Joyce called from the pantry, interrupting Mike mid-sentence and causing you to raise your eyebrows. “I knew eventually you two would work it out—like Hop and I did—because god knows Murray doesn’t need to control everyone’s love life around here.”

“I like Murray well enough, but she’s got a point.” Will said, holding his belt up as you gave it one last adjustment before turning him around to face you. “We all knew you’d wind up together one way or another. Except maybe Mike. He still thinks Robin and Vicki are just friends.”

You snorted a laugh. Robin had come out to the group a little after what happened last spring, right before Steve helped her get the courage to ask Vicki out. Everyone took it pretty well—especially Will and Eddie, who hugged her excessively when she was trembling her way through her speech—but Mike had just sort of stood there, unable to grasp what it was Robin was saying. “He’s very dense. Nice, but…”

“Yeah,” Will sighed, stepping back and smoothing out his pants. “Thanks for helping me. Though I’m sure that’s not what you came into the kitchen for in the first place.”

You blink, trying to remember what it was that you came in here for. “Coke.” You finally blurt out, your thoughts distracted by the tone in Will’s voice.

Will turned and headed over to the fridge to pull out a can for you, his arm stretched out as he comes back. You wavered a bit before you decided to reach out and pull him into a hug, your arms clasping around his back, his hand still outstretched, holding a Coke. Everyone had been through a lot over the years, but it was always Will that seemed to need a little more comforting than everyone ese. You knew Jonathan would always be there for him, and since Eddie had met him, he’d made sure Will knew he was accepted into the Hellfire club. But still. Maybe it was just the sister instinct that took over when you were around Will that made you want to comfort him. “Thanks Will.” You pulled back from him and smiled, grabbing the Coke out of his hand. “Make sure Dustin see’s your outfit. I have a feeling he’ll go bananas over it.”

Joyce walked out of the pantry, a bag of tortilla chips in her hand. “Happy again to hear about you and Steve, sweetheart. These nachos should be done in a couple minutes, make sure to let everyone know there’s something here in lieu of pizza.”

“Will do, Mrs. Munster.” You smiled.

“Lily.” Joyce corrected.

You laughed as you walked out of the kitchen and back towards the living room.

“Robin and Vicki did a couples costume! We could have had the whole Breakfast Club!” You heard Lucas shout as you entered the room. You saw in the corner that Robin and Vicki had finally made their way into the Byers house (they opted to stay in the car to get ready, as when you went to pick them up, neither one of them had costumes on), and you couldn’t help but wonder why they were dressed as Ally Sheedy and Molly Ringwald from The Breakfast Club of all things.

“Feel free not to answer,” you said, walking up to the two ladies. “But The Breakfast Club?”

Vicki smiled and placed her hand on Robin’s shoulder. “Your idea, so you explain it to her.”

Robin took a sip from the cup she was holding and closed her eyes. “So,” she began, her voice competing with the sound of the music someone had put on while you were gone, “you’ve seen the movie, right? There’s that scene, in the end, where Molly Ringwald’s character takes Ally Sheedy to the side and completely redoes her make up. Which, first of all, didn’t need to be done. Because she was just fine the way she was. But, more importantly, she did the make up the way she though would make her look better. It was soooo intense. And it just, clicked? You know? They totally could have been a couple. The princess and the oddball. It’s a huge literary trope, so, why couldn’t it be like that with the two of them? Honestly, that whole film could have been the gateway into making gay history. I mean, it’s clearly an undertone of the entire film. It’s subtext—”

“Robin, sweetheart,” Vicki chimed in, placing a hand on Robin’s shoulder. “The film did a pretty good job with the written material, regardless of the subtext. Not that your theory isn’t fascinating. But…I thought Claire’s make-over for Allison was nice. All she did was wash her face and pull her hair up so you could see her eyes. I liked how simple it was.”

“Vicki, Vicki, Vicki,” Robin said, turning to face her girlfriend. “You’re missing the point. We’ve talked over this! It’s—”

Vicki placed a finger on Robin’s lips. “Okay, smartypants. I secede. Why don’t we go and get something to eat? I’ve been smelling nachos for the past five minutes, and I want to grab some before the teenaged boys do and leave nothing left for us.”

Robin smiled. “Yes. I am famished.” She turned back to face you, her hand now captured in Vicki’s. “As for you, don’t think I didn’t notice how you’re dressed up as Buttercup when Steve is Westley. You and I will have a chat about that later! I know I can convince you to have him stop quoting that damn movie all the time!”

Vicki tugged at Robin’s arm and the two headed back to the kitchen.

You went to go and stand next to Steve, who was sitting on the arm of the chair next to Dustin, watching Michael Jackson’s Thriller video on the TV, when the front door opened.

“Happy Halloween, brochacos,” Argyle said, walking through the front door, bringing with him the scent of pizza and weed. “I’ve brought the pizza and Halloween because I think it’s absolutely the right way to go about today.” He set down five pizza boxes on the couch and held up a VHS. “And one of those pies has pineapple, my guys. May I remind you again, try before you deny.”

El smiled. “I enjoy pineapple on my pizza, Argyle. But I do not understand your costume.”

Argyle laughed. “I am Brand from The Goonies, my alien fighting friend.” He snapped at his red head band. “Please tell me someone here has shown her the greatest movie of our time.”

“I’ll make sure she sees it, Argyle.” Will said, walking over towards El. “It’s one of my favorites. It’s about a group of kids that go on a treasure hunt in order to save their home. Mikey’s optimism got me through the worst of the nightmares after last spring. He just. Reminds me of someone I know. I think you’ll really like it.”

“If Will says it’s a good movie,” El said, “then I will be sure to watch it, Argyle. But first…pizza.”

“Second on that,” Nancy said, moving out from her corner and towards the couch, adjusting her sweater and corduroy pants. “Thanks for bringing the pizza, Argyle.”

“Totally no problemo, Nance. Or should I say…?”

“Oh, I’m Carrie Fisher’s character in The Blues Brothers. Jake is around here somewhere.” Nancy said, picking up the gun she’d placed on the floor.

You looked closely at the gun, your eyebrows raising when you realized—

“Excellent prop gun, Nance!” Argyle smiled, his entire face beaming with joy for a moment before his eyebrows crossed. “Right?”

Eddie snickered from the corner. “Guess again, my friend.”

“Can’t be too lenient around here, even if things have quieted down. Had to work this thing into my costume somehow. It was easy enough to dress Jonathan up in a suit, too. Plus,” Nancy walked over to the pizza, opened the box, and took out a slice. “I just like Carrie Fisher.”

“Me too,” Argyle said, his smile returning to his face. “I don’t know if I would have gotten that one right away. Not like Westley and Buttercup over there from the second greatest movie of our time.”

“Thank you!” Steve said dramatically, raising his arms. “I am not the only one here with taste.”

“It’s not that you don’t have taste,” Robin walked over towards the pizza, a can of Coke in her hand from the kitchen. “It’s that you’re annoying about it.”

Steve just stared at her, his mouth slightly open, trying to think of something to say back to her.

“Aw man, just let it go. Best not to argue with Allison Reynolds.” Argyle slapped Steve on the back. “Which. Digging the costume, Robin. I take it Vicki is Claire, because of that whole make-up scene, right?”

“Argyle,” Robin said, opening up the pizza box with pineapple and grabbing a slice. “You have excellent taste.”

“Thanks, dude. Now,” Argyle slapped Steve on the back again, causing him to flinch slightly. “Why don’t you and your princess come grab a slice of pineapple before it’s all gone. My taste extends beyond that of film!”

You grabbed Steve’s hand and walked over to grab a slice of pizza together, enjoying the atmosphere of being surrounded by your friends.

…

“You seem a decent fellow,” Steve said, circling the table in the middle of the living room. “I hate to die.”

You watched as Steve and Dustin continued to circle each other, Steve holding up his plastic sword and Dustin his plastic blaster. Everyone was in various degrees of watching them—Eddie was enthralled by their performance while Robin and Vicki had left the room completely after Steve brought out the movie quotes.

“This is such a boring conversation,” Dustin stopped circling and held up his blaster. “Besides, ancient weapons are no match for a good blaster at your side.”

“There is something I ought to tell you,” Steve said, his sword now in front of his face—which had lost the mask and bandana long ago, giving his hair a wild look to it.

“Oh? As long as it’s not the odds. Never tell me the odds.” Dustin motioned his plastic blaster so it dropped a little.

“Get used to disappointment.” Steve lunged forward at the exact time Dustin began making blaster sounds and ran his sword under Dustin’s arm.

“Laugh,” Dustin choked, dramatically falling to his knees. “It,” he dropped his blaster and looked down at the floor before lying down, the sword still sticking out from his armpit. “Up,” he coughed. “Fuzzball.” Dustin closed his eyes and curled up, faking his death like the dramatic kid he was.

You clapped. “Alright, can we please head out now? Some of us have to work in the morning, you know.”

Steve turned to you, his expression of satisfaction still plastered on his face.

“You’re really not going to mourn the death of your own brother?” Dustin said, looking up at you from the floor.

“I shouldn’t need to mourn. Han Solo doesn’t miss. Maybe you should have dressed as a Stormtrooper,” you joked, watching Dustin’s brow furl. “Kidding. I’m very sad for you, Dustin. But I also really just want to take a shower and get to bed. It’s almost eleven. Half the party is gone, anyway.”

Besides Robin, Vicki, Eddie, and Chrissy, everyone had trickled out of the Byer’s house throughout the night.

“Your sister’s right, Henderson,” Steve said, walking over to you and wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “Besides, aren’t you supposed to call Suzie tonight or something?”

Dustin shot up. “She’s gonna kill me if I’m late! Movie’s on at midnight.” He rushed to the door. “Robin! Vicki! Let’s go! Thanks for the party, Mrs. Byers! See you at Hellfire, Will!”

You shook your head and waited for everyone to say their thank you’s and goodbyes before walking out and getting into Steve’s car. You dropped Robin and Vicki off first, then turned the radio on and enjoyed the ambiance of Halloween decorations to Michael Jackson’s Thriller. When you finally pulled into your driveway, Dustin shot out of the car, barely thanking Steve as he ran into the house to call Suzie.

“That kid has it bad,” Steve said, shutting off the engine.

“Suzie’s good for him, I think.” You said, shifting to look at Steve. “I’m glad he’s found someone.”

“I’m glad I found you,” Steve said, pulling you in for a kiss. “Thanks for being my Buttercup tonight and every night.”

You smiled. “I’m glad I found you too, Steve. Thanks for being my Westley, babysitter boy.”

Steve chuckled as you opened up your car door and got out. “I’ll see you later.” You blew him a kiss and headed for your front door, a faint mumble from Steve barely hitting your ears.

…

Turns out, a hot shower after a long night can also wake you up considerably. You were lucky enough to have a bathroom attached to your room; it made the transition of getting out and getting dressed easier.

Or so you thought.

“There’s a shortage of perfect breasts in this world,” Steve said, lying on top of your bed, his arms behind his head. “T’would be a pity to damage yours.”

You stood in the bathroom doorway, robe halfway on, your hair tied up. “Steve?”

“Guilty as charged.”

“What—how—why—HOW did you get into my room?”

“You keep your windows unlocked. I’ve been plotting a route up here for days, ever since you agreed to do Princess Bride costumes. I wanted to surprise you.”

You stared at him, open mouth, not paying attention to your robe as it slowly opened up more. He smiled at you wider, sitting up a little on your bed. “Too much? Too cheesy?”

You shook your head and grasped at your robe, pulling it tighter (causing Steve’s smile to fade a bit). “Steve, I watched as you and Dustin made pew-pew and clanking noises for five minutes. I don’t think it was too cheesy.”

He sat back, relieved.

“Besides,” you walked over to your bed and sat down on the other side. “What I like most about you is your cheesiness.”

Steve quickly turned his head towards you and scoffed. “I am not—”

“Steve. You’re cheesy. Charming. Gallant and almost stoic to a fault. Maybe not the most gracious with words or coordination…but that is why I love you.”

Steve looked at you, his mouth a straight line. “Ms. Henderson,” he began, sitting up once again. “I believe you’ve just said something there is no going back from.”

You blinked. “I did?”

He smirked and scootched closer to you. “You looooooove me.”

You felt your cheeks grow hot—not just because you were embarrassed, but because you hadn’t planned on telling him on accident. There were three options you could go with now. Option one: playfully hit him and deny it. Option two: kiss him to shut him up. Option three: disrobe and distract him completely.

You knew which option it had to be.

You faced him and gently reached up to cup his cheek, pulling him closer to you. “Steve Harrington, I have loved you since the first day you brought Dustin home with a smile on his face. I love your charm, and your determination, and how incredibly stupid you can be, risking your life for everyone in an attempt to always be a better version of yourself.” You kept eye contact with him, watching him as he watched you. “You may act like you don’t care, or that you’re too cool, or that you hate being the babysitter, but I know you Steve. And I love what I see.” You reached up to run your fingers to the back of his head, your eyes flicking between his and his lips. “I love you, Steve Harrington.”

This kiss was different than the ones you’ve had in the past. It was more passionate—more pure; it left all the others behind Steve would quote to you later on—and left you feeling light headed. Slowly, you found yourself crawling up on your knees. He grabbed at your waist and pulled you flush against him, one hand pawing at the small of your back and the other cradling the back of your head, reaching up to loosen your hair so it cascaded down and tickled your ears. You turned your head to deepen the kiss, your hands digging into his hair to keep a semblance of keeping upright. Ultimately this was useless as you found yourself melting into him, sighing unapologetically as he nipped at your bottom lip. He reached his hand up to cup your face and pulled apart for the briefest of seconds before he lightly kissed you once; twice; three times before resting his forehead on yours, his breathing faster in effort to catch his breath.

His eyes remain closed, but yours looked at him gently, your cheeks red and your mouth slightly agape.

“You know, Ms. Henderson,” he opened his eyes finally and flicked them up to match yours, a cheeky smile growing on his puffy lips. “I love you too.”

You leaned in to give him another kiss, soft and gentle, the smile on your face growing wider. “You know,” you said, breaking away from the kiss, much to Steve’s disappointment. “Since you went through all that trouble of recreating the scene where Westley comes to rescue Buttercup…”

Steve gently fixed your hair behind your ear, his eyes only leaving yours for a minute. You reached up to place your hand on top of his before placing it back down across his chest. You smirk. He had less than a second to register as you pushed him down on the bed, straddled him, and reached for the belt of your robe, loosening it. “Why not really give into the scene?”

Steve’s mouth closed shut as his eyes moved up and down on you, watching as you leaned forward and began to kiss him, starting with his forehead and working your way down to the two tiny little moles along his jawline.

“Gently,” he whispered, his hands on your hips.

“At a time like this, that’s all you can think of to say? Gently?” You tuck one hand behind his head and lift him up slightly, grabbing his mouth in yours.

“Gently,” he said again before you released him from your kiss, his head knocking against the headboard of your bed. “Ouch.”

You giggled. “That’s for Robin. Stop quoting the movie to her at work so much.”

Steve took a hand off of you and rubbed at the back of his head. “Fine,” he said, scooting himself down further so his head was at the bottom of the pillow. “I’d much rather hear you quote the movie to me anyway. It’s hot…”

You placed a finger over his mouth and smirked before leaning back down to kiss him again. “As you wish.”

[fearsmagazine]

STREET TRASH (‘24) - Review

DISTRIBUTOR: Cineverse

SYNOPSIS: In a dystopian 2050 Cape Town, ravaged by economic collapse and a vanished middle class, South Africa is a stark contrast of extreme wealth and desperate poverty. Ronald, a member of a displaced, houseless community, uncovers a chilling government conspiracy. The plan, codenamed "V," involves using a sinister chemical agent to eradicate the city's houseless population. Facing overwhelming odds, Ronald and his friends must risk everything to expose this horrifying plot, challenging a society that seeks to erase them. Their fight becomes a symbol of resistance against the oppressive forces of government and the ultra-rich.

REVIEW: The irreverent horror film "Street Trash," a product of the over-the-top 1980s emerging independent film and video store era that also gave rise to Lloyd Kaufman's Tromaville, was released almost 40 years ago by filmmakers Roy Frumkes and Jim Muro. This New York-based, unrated gorefest, with its emphasis on physical effects, I remember it splashed across the marquees of some 42nd Street film houses in the pre-Disney era.

STREET TRASH ('24), written by Kruger and Williamson, borrows iconic visuals from its 1987 predecessor, but spins an entirely new socio-political narrative populated by amplified characters. The film has the crude, animated feel of an Adult Swim late-night show, including a standout performance by Kruger as the voice of Sockle, a crude puppet. The story finds its rhythm quickly, even paying homage to a key classic sequence from the 87 film. Ronald and his crew are an intriguing bunch, reminiscent of an eclectic mix from films like "Kelly's Heroes" (1970) or "The Great Escape" (1963), but with a psychotic, psychedelic twist. The plot cleverly introduces current social and political issues without becoming preachy, subtly weaving them into the film's dark comedic tones to provide food for thought. With a simple plot, engaging character arcs, and an over-the-top style that bulldozes viewers into suspending their disbelief, STREET TRASH ('24) is a wild ride.

STREET TRASH effectively combines gritty production values with vibrant cinematography and costume designs that range from stylish and colorful to "homeless chic." Director Kruger's experience in music videos is evident in the skillfully crafted action sequences, which blend various elements and disciplines to create intense, gory moments. As the story progresses, the focus shifts from gore to action, and the film begins to resemble a chaotic, low-budget "Mad Max." The climactic battle scene, filmed in a unique location, evokes memories of a similar sequence in "Conquest of the Planet of the Apes." The film's employees distinctive South African locations that significantly contribute to the viewer's immersion in the narrative.

Director Ryan Kruger's "Street Trash" boasts an impressive ensemble cast, including Gary Green, a frequent collaborator of Kruger's, who takes on the role of 2-Bit. Green shares the screen with Kruger himself, who lends his voice to Sockle, 2-Bit's extraterrestrial companion (or perhaps just a figment of his imagination). The film also features standout performances from seasoned actor Sean Cameron Michael, Donna Cormack-Thomson as a compelling antagonist, and Joe Vaz, who leaves a lasting impression despite his limited screen time. The cast's dynamic energy infuses the film with a playful, adult-oriented vibe, while their ability to channel their younger selves results in captivating and delightfully sophomoric performances. Viewers may also find themselves empathizing with the characters as they navigate the film's gritty, grimy, and downright gooey/gorey world.

Ryan Kruger's latest film is a testament to his extensive experience in the film industry, both behind and in front of the camera. Paying homage to the spirit of independent filmmaking that thrived in the 1980s, Kruger's movie is a futuristic gorefest that cleverly incorporates elements from its 1987 namesake. The film's blend of dark comedy and exploitation themes would undoubtedly resonate with fans of Trey Parker and Matt Stone's “South Park.” Translation, for an adult audience and not for the faint of heart! As an admirer of Kruger's previous feature and shorts, I eagerly await his next project.

CAST: Sean Cameron Michael, Donna Cormack Thomson, Joe Vaz, Gary Green, Lloyd Martinez Newkirk, Shuraigh Meyer, Ryan Kruger (voice), Andrew Rouz, Warrick Grier, Suraya Rose Santos, & Carel Nel. CREW: Director/Screenplay/Producer - Ryan Kruger; Screenplay - James C. Williamson; Based on ‘87 film “Street Trash” by Roy Frumkes & Jim Muro; Producers - Justin A Martell, David Franciscus, Matt Manjourides, Cinematographer - Fabian Vettiger; Score - Haezer; Editor - Stephen Du Plessis; Production Designer - Monica Rosie; Costume Designer - Pierre Vienings; Special Effects Supervisor - Kevin Bitters; Prosthetics Designer - Adrian Smith; Visual Effects - Blake Prinsloo. OFFICIAL: N.A. FACEBOOK: N.A. TWITTER: N.A. TRAILER: https://youtu.be/_7GGWv_w6a0 RELEASE DATE: On Digital November 19, 2024

**Until we can all head back into the theaters our “COVID Reel Value” will be similar to how you rate a film on digital platforms - 👍 (Like), 👌 (It’s just okay), or 👎 (Dislike)

Reviewed by Joseph B Mauceri

[luxlightly]

(This is my actual blog. I just can't send asks from it) Thank you :3c Hopefully it's at least somewhat in character

A Spider's Temperament:

The Director fell asleep in an instant, the venom barely had time to get into his bloodstream before he was out like a light. 

Good.

Pulse was still slightly erratic, but strong, and evening out as he fell deeper into unconsciousness. 

The doctor checked.

90 bpm. High, but not remarkably so, considering the circumstances. And not dangerous. No sudden or dramatic drops or spikes.

He double checked. 

89 bpm.

Good. 

The injection wound was already nearly closed. Blood clotting factor normal.

He checked.

No excessive bleeding. No allergic reaction or excessive swelling at the injection site.

He double checked.

He’d barely needed to graze him. He’d been exceedingly, exceptionally careful.

He triple checked. 

No. Everything was normal. The director was simply unconscious. As expected. As intended.

He checked again.

With a frustrated chittering sound, the doctor pulled his many gazes away from the director’s neck. A voice in his mind that sounded annoyingly like the man himself chided him about “feeding the compulsion”.

The director thought Arachne was “obsessive”, “neurotic”, and “prone to ritualistic compulsions”.

The doctor himself would argue that he was “fastidious”, “detail oriented”, and  “an enormous mass of something not entirely unlike a spider”. All of these traits necessitating the use of a more cautious and methodical approach to…

Well…

Just about everything.

How easy it must be for a man contained in one neat little package of skin and bone to talk about feeding into anxieties. About the fear associated with breaking rituals. How simple, for a being so simply constructed, to think it could be so simple!

…

87 bpm.

Maybe he was being a little obsessive, just this once. But who could blame him? Humans were just…fragile. He understood their bodies inside and out and understood the delicate balance that was their homeostasis. How easy it was to catastrophically disrupt it. How precise one had to be when handling them. 

Doctor Arachne could be very precise.

 It was what made him such an excellent surgeon. And what made it even remotely possible for him to exist in proximity to humans the way he did. 

Sometimes very close proximity.

The director lay, limp, among the doctor’s dozens of arms. He’d be out for at least eight hours, with any luck, once he properly fell asleep. Arachne’s venom was an anesthetic, among other things. Under its effects, the director was knocked out, not sleeping, which did not rest the body but, once it wore off, he’d progress into a more natural sleep cycle.

The immediate effect was not overly dissimilar to the general anesthetic they used for surgery at the hospital, a fact the director seemed to find very funny. 

Arachne did not. 

Not when he knew how much more potent it was than anything their or any hospital could possibly get their hands on. How even the slightest miscalculation could be the difference between unconsciousness and total paralysis. Not just of the major motor functions, but the lungs, the heart, the brain. 

…

83 bpm. 

So sue him for giving in to the odd compulsion to even things out. It was better than the alternative. He couldn’t afford to be less cautious. 

Giving in to another, albeit less “benign” impulse, he re-wove the silken wrapping around the director, tight enough that he could feel the man’s pulse thrumming through his webbing with every beat, while still trying to stay cognizant of his circulation. 

There was a possessiveness to it he couldn’t deny, though he’d die before ever admitting it aloud, especially not to the man himself. Bound up tight in his silk, strung in his web, surrounded, enveloped even, on all sides, by the endless shifting mass that was him… 

What could possibly exist in such a state, in such a place, that was not his? Was not all but a part of him?

A decidedly inhuman feeling. At least, in how it manifested within him; in how he relented to indulge in it. To hold the director like a prize, already won. A treasure to swaddle and store away. A meal to be saved and savored. Little ways to appease the parts of himself that could never understand something like the frail thing he ran countless limbs over, again and again, as something other than something to kill and consume. 

It kept him from eating him, anyway. 

He’d be pissed when he woke up and realized Arachne had had no intention of waking him before he got a full night’s worth of sleep, but it served him right. 

Pushing himself so far past his limits for so long, getting himself into such a state, then just waltzing into the doctor’s room as if he didn’t stink like sickness, like weakness, like prey! 

Did he have any idea how hard it was for the doctor to have sunk his fangs into the plastic pool instead of his flesh? To catch and hold him, unharmed? Did he have any idea the deep rooted instincts that his squirming in the doctor’s web set off? Did he have any idea how hard it was to even exist around fragile things like him? The vice in which Arachne had to keep himself at all times? The care he had to put into every single action? 

Did he even remotely comprehend what restraint it took a creature like the doctor to scrape a fang with such aching delicacy across that exposed neck, just just enough to put him under instead of driving through his jugular and--

…

78 bpm.

Of course. He did. 

People tended to think the doctor had a lack of self control. It was a fair assumption, with how frequently his form burst out of his scrubs at the slightest provocation. How his careful disguise fell apart at the first hint of irritation. 

But, the director knew it was only the doctor’s immense control of himself and his form that allowed a creature only ever a hair’s breadth from devolving into an unknowable, impossible tangle of eyes, limbs, and teeth, to only have those comparatively tiny lapses. 

That was the wonderful and awful thing about the director:

He knew. He always did. No matter what it was about Arachne, he always just understood! 

Nothing, no one, should understand something like him. He existed in a state something like the director could not even comprehend! And yet he understood! Wanted to understand. Wanted to see every bit of him, know everything about him. And somehow each new thing he managed to pry from Arachne, he would just understand and accept with that child-like fascination like it came naturally to him! Like that kind of thing could just be easy!

It drove Arachne insane! Everything about that man was maddening! 

The way he’d see a monster lunge at him, barely dodge out of the way, and, instead of running, spray it with a hose and scold it. The way he’d argue, petulantly, like a child avoiding bedtime, while tied up in the web of a creature that should have been dragged out of his nightmares. The way he should have turned away when he saw deeper and deeper into the heart of that thing, where it became less entirely unlike a spider and more entirely unlike anything that should even fit within geometry as it existed, where it was all shiny blackness and eyes, eyes, eyes, and instead he just kept looking!

Staring, eyes half lidded, heart racing from something more than the fatigue, with something that was not entirely fear but was entirely too terrifying for the doctor to possibly name, until the air felt charged with something that stirred a terrible yearning in Arachne. A sudden, almost painful wish that he could pull the man apart and spread him out into something infinitely formless like himself, reaching within until each part of both of them was encased in the other like some organic fractal, a living mobius strip of arms and eyes and self and for one moment it might finally feel close enough to sate some awful hunger he couldn’t, wouldn’t, name.

…

77bpm. 

His pulse was evening out. That was good. He was probably passing from sedation to sleep. It had dipped right to his normal resting heart rate. The dosage of venom had been extremely precise, of course. Arachne was a surgeon, after all.

With a surgeon's precision.

And a spider’s temperament.

Do you accept fan-fic based on your work? I just have a lot of thoughts about a certain spider and I wrote up about 1400 words of what I imagine Arachne's thoughts were in between the last two panels of the "Refreshment" comic and wonder if you'd accept me serving it up to you

BEDTIME STORY BEDTIME STORY PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

And a message out to everyone else, I love fanworks, fanletters, self-inserts, asks, tag me in it or send it to me, I’m very happy to have people interact with my work with similar passions. Thank you everyone that have sent stuff, I am super normal to receive your support. super normal about it.

[t-jfh]

Shanul Sharma sings the full spectrum, bringing passion to every piece he performs. (ABC News: Sharon Gordon / Supplied: Shanul Sharma)

Shanul says the vocal skills he gained from heavy metal help his opera. (Supplied: Shanul Sharma)

Shanul says he's fallen in love with the "stakes" of opera singing. (Supplied: David Ng)

Shanul used to sing in a heavy metal band. He's now dazzling audiences at the opera

Opera singer Shanul Sharma's voice has been labelled dazzling and resplendent by critics, but classical music wasn't his first choice.

The tenor's first steps onto the stage were surrounded by electric guitars and banging heads.

Initially the lead singer of a heavy metal band, Shanul made the switch in 2012.

While the two genres may seem worlds apart, he says metal and opera share a lot of similarities.

By Monty Jacka and Sally Bryant

ABC - Make Me Feel Good

ABC News - 18 November, 2023

Photos © 2023 Shanul Sharma

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SEE also: https://www.shanul.com.au/

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YouTube video >> Operabase: Shanul Sharma sings Mitridate, re di Ponto (Mithridates, King of Pontus), K. 87 (74a), an opera seria in three acts by the young Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, 1770. (Released July 30, 2022 / 4mins.+57secs.):

Tenor: Shanul Sharma

Pianoforte: Andrea Katz

Recorded 27-06-2022 at Horti Hall, Melbourne, Australia.

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Shanul Sharma in the role of Mahatma Gandhi, in a 2023 production of Satyagraha by Philip Glass, produced by Opera Australia.

YouTube video: Satyagraha by Philip Glass, produced by New York Opera Orchestra and Chorus, Conducted by Christopher Keene (Released 19 September 2015 / 14mins.+45secs.)

SEE: Shanul Sharma in the role of Mahatma Ghandi in Satyagraha by Philip Glass, produced by Opera Australia, Director Andy Morton, Conductor Tahu Matheson, 2023:

[jcmarchi]

Professor Emeritus Willard R. Johnson, political scientist who specialized in African studies, dies at 87

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/professor-emeritus-willard-r-johnson-political-scientist-who-specialized-in-african-studies-dies-at-87/

Professor Emeritus Willard R. Johnson, political scientist who specialized in African studies, dies at 87

Willard R. Johnson, a professor emeritus in the MIT Department of Political Science who focused his scholarly research on the political development of Africa, died in late October at age 87. Johnson served as a member of the MIT faculty for nearly 60 years, while also founding and participating in numerous civic initiatives aimed at making political and social advances in Africa and the U.S., and building engagement between the two regions.

Johnson joined the political science faculty in 1964 as an assistant professor. He was the first Black faculty member at MIT to rise through the ranks and achieve tenure from within, and he created a broad portfolio of accomplishments. Johnson conducted extensive fieldwork in Africa, published important contributions to the study of African political institutions and independence movements, advocated for the inclusion of more Black scholars in the MIT community, and served as a leading voice at MIT and in the Boston area against South Africa’s apartheid.

Johnson also held visiting positions at Harvard Business School, Boston University, and the Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy at Tufts, in addition to his time as a faculty member and emeritus professor at MIT.

Johnson was born in St. Louis, Missouri, in 1935 and moved to Pasadena, California, where he graduated from Muir High School. He earned his AA from Pasadena City College in 1955, and a BA in international relations from the University of California at Los Angeles (UCLA), in 1957. At UCLA, he served as student body president, and also helped to found the campus’ chapter of the NAACP. Notably, he was also responsible for bringing W.E.B. Dubois to campus as a speaker. Johnson later received his MA degree in African studies with distinction from Johns Hopkins School of Advanced International Studies, in 1961, and his PhD in political science from Harvard University, in 1965.

Johnson’s Harvard dissertation, “Cameroon Reunification: The Political Union of Several Africas,” formed the basis of his first book, published as “The Cameroon Federation” by Princeton University Press in 1970. In a review of the book in the Journal of Modern African Studies, W. Norman Haupt wrote, “This carefully prepared book is based upon a sound, objective understanding of local facts and preferences,” while noting that it “is filled with those minute details of history which make for exciting reading.”

Johnson himself would say that his most important accomplishment while at UCLA was meeting his wife, Vivian Johnson. They not only formed a lasting bond in marriage, but also became scholarly collaborators and jointly published “West African Governments and Volunteer Development Organizations: Priorities for Partnership” (University Press of America, 1990). Political scientist Pearl T. Robinson of Tufts University called it “required reading for anyone seeking insights into the struggles that are being waged to promote increased political pluralism and alternative development strategies in contemporary Africa.”

Johnson remained impressively active in politics and public service throughout his life. From 1968 to 1970, he took a leave from MIT to serve as executive director of Circle, a Roxbury, Massachusetts-based community development organization. In 1972, he directed the Africa Policy Task Force for the George McGovern for President committee, and served on the Democratic Party Advisory Council’s Foreign Affairs Study Group. He also served on the U.S. National Committee for the United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural Organization (UNESCO).

Johnson later became a leading voice at MIT, and nationally, in the anti-apartheid movement. He led the Boston chapter of TransAfrica’s Free South Africa Movement. As Johnson noted, in an interview for the Department of Political Science’s 50th anniversary celebration, he was arrested, along with Nobel laureate George Wald of Harvard and other local luminaries, at an anti-apartheid rally in Boston. Johnson was proud to be actively involved in Nelson Mandela’s visit to Boston in 1990, part of the anti-apartheid leader’s momentous trip to the U.S.

In 1991, a few years before stepping down from his faculty position, Johnson founded the Kansas Institute for African American and Native American Family History, which promotes the preservation and documentation of family identity, traditions, and accomplishments of members of the African American and Native American communities of the Midwest.

Johnson’s 2001 paper published in the Black History Bulletin, “Tracing Trails of Blood on Ice: Commemorating ‘The Great Escape’ of 1861-62 of Indians and Blacks into Kansas,” chronicled a significant episode in this underexplored regional history. He remained active with the Kansas Institute for African American and Native American Family History until his passing.

Johnson also founded the Boston Pan-African Forum, a group promoting mutually beneficial relations between the United States and the people of Africa, and remained an active part of it throughout his later years. 

Throughout his time at MIT, Johnson was an active voice in support of diversifying the Institute faculty and student community, and pushing for greater opportunities for Black faculty and students alike. Johnson was proud of the accomplishments of Institute students such as Georgia Persons PhD ’78, a political scientist who is now a professor in the School of Public Policy at Georgia Tech; and Marsha Coleman-Adebayo PhD ’82, a leading advocate against workplace discrimination whose experiences helped generate passage of the Notification and Federal Employee Anti-discrimination and Retaliation Act, signed into federal law in 2002. 

In seeking to build stronger ties between scholarly communities, Johnson also initiated a joint seminar in political science between MIT and Howard University, in the mid-1970s, an effort concluding with combined class session for all the participating students from both institutions.

Johnson remained a visible presence in the political science department following his transition to professor emeritus in 1996. Colleagues fortunate enough to cross paths with him were greeted with a tremendously warm smile. Those who knew him during his time on the faculty have fond memories of him stopping by their offices to check in, inquire about family members, and give the distinctive encouragement and kind understanding which, through his extraordinary experience and character, only he could offer.

[iraempirecom]

Keith Weiner Monetary Metals

Monetary Metals has positioned itself as a disruptive force in the gold market, leveraging its unique approach to analyzing precious metal markets and providing scalable, reliable, and flexible gold financing solutions. The team at Monetary Metals, helmed by Keith Weiner, has made strides in unlocking the productivity of gold, delivering gold yield to investors, and ushering in an era of honest money.

This article delves into Keith Weiner's background including other individuals behind the company, Monetary Metals's journey, its operational model, customer perception, product offerings, and more.

Monetary Metals: Early Years

Founded on the principle that Gold is Money, Monetary Metals has evolved into a dynamic marketplace offering a suite of Gold fixed-income products. These products are designed to deliver a yield on gold, paid in gold, to both individual investors and institutions.

The company's journey began with the establishment of a gold hedge fund and the launch of a website that outlined its novel approach to analyzing gold and silver markets. Since its inception, Monetary Metals has been at the forefront of monetary economics innovation, catering to the needs of gold investors, business users of gold, institutions, sovereigns, and anyone seeking to save and earn a return in honest money. Monetary Metals has been paying interest on gold, in gold, since 2016. This innovative approach has allowed the company to close over 40 gold and silver investment opportunities, including the first gold bond in the US in 87 years. The company's ability to deliver a yield on gold is rooted in its provision of a scalable, reliable, as well as flexible financing solution to precious metals companies. This innovative financing solution, aptly termedGold Financing, Simplified, is a testament to Monetary Metals' mission to Unlock the Productivity of Gold®.

Meet the Monetary Metals Team

The success of Monetary Metals can be attributed to its exceptional team, comprising professionals with diverse expertise in finance, economics, technology, as well as law. Board of Directors Keith Weiner, PhD

Source: LinkedIn Profile Keith Weiner is the founder, CEO, as well as Chairman of the Board at Monetary Metals. An economist, Keith is a leading authority in the areas of gold, money, and credit. Further, his entrepreneurial streak is clear in his knack for founding businesses that solve complex problems. Before Monetary Metals, Keith founded DiamondWare, a software company specializing in 3D voice technology, which was sold to Nortel in 2008. Keith also serves as the President of the Gold Standard Institute USA. Jim Brown Jim Brown, a Director at Monetary Metals, manages the Justice Brown Family Office from Jackson Hole. His impressive finance career spans 30 years, including a stint as a stockbroker and also two decades as a partner and portfolio manager at Brandes Investment Partners of San Diego. Simon Guenzl Simon Guenzl, another Director at Monetary Metals, brings over 30 years of experience in finance to the table. His extensive expertise includes advising on mergers & acquisitions, making venture capital investments in start-ups, and investing in private equity as well as venture capital funds. Management Team Jeff Deist Jeff Deist serves as the General Counsel at Monetary Metals. Prior to his tenure at Monetary Metals, Jeff spent ten years as the president of the Mises Institute, where he wrote extensively on topics of monetary policy, gold, and central banking. Nathan Lucas Nathan Lucas, the Chief Accounting Officer at Monetary Metals, has over 25 years of experience as an accounting professional. His diverse experience includes guiding a start-up to IPO and also being the CEO and founder of an Accounting Software business. Saad Zein Saad Zein, serving as the Vice President of Corporate Relationships, has held numerous leadership roles throughout his career in Finance and Investment Banking. Furthermore, he is the founding partner of Aston Peak, an investment banking advisory firm specializing in generating alternative investment opportunities and corporate solutions across borders and industries. Board of Advisors Greyson Geiler As an advisor at Monetary Metals, Greyson brings a diverse range of investment and business expertise. Further, his experience spans over 20 years across stocks and commodities, insurance products, business, tax, and real estate.

A Word of Caution: Avoid Scammers

In a world where digital scams are becoming increasingly sophisticated, it's essential to remain vigilant. Monetary Metals will never ask for passwords, credit card numbers, or other personal information via email. If you receive such an email, do not respond, reply, click on any links or images, or open any attachments within the message. Instead, reach out directly to your Business Development Manager at Monetary Metals to confirm the legitimacy of the request. More importantly, beware of individuals offering to sell the delegate lists of events. Monetary Metals does not sell its data to third parties, and such offers are scams. Never provide credit card information or other details to anyone claiming to sell the details of attendees to events.

Concluding Thoughts on Keith Weiner

Monetary Metals is a testament to the power of innovation and the drive to challenge traditional financial concepts. This journey, while spearheaded by Keith Weiner, is a collective effort of a talented team dedicated to unlocking the productivity of gold and creating a new paradigm in gold investment. With its unique approach to gold financing and delivery of gold yield, Monetary Metals is certainly just getting started. Investing in precious metals can seem difficult. To help you find the best precious metals provider, we have created our top gold IRA companies list.  You can check it out to see what the industry’s best has to offer.  Or, you can check out the best gold dealer in your state below: Find the best Gold IRA company in your state Read the full article