#and its like 24 straight hours of movies too

[karmicpunishment]

for atsushi's birthday the ada rents out a small movie theatre and shows him the "essential movies" that he's never scene (aka everyone in the agency picked a movie)

[cherry-shipping]

oooooobbbbhg i want to go look at thebsky with Him. u inow who i mean

[vintagebunnies]

when working as a waitress in a shoddy little diner out in the middle of nowhere, you encounter a lot of strange faces on a daily basis. the occasional truck driver stopping in for a bite to eat after 24-hours on the road, a construction worker from down the street. but nothing compares to this guy who walked in.

it was later at night, business was slow, so it was no doubt a macabre sight to see a hulking guy in a skull face balaclava walking in with a menacing aura.

it seemed like the plot of every horror movie; the lone waitress working at night getting preyed on by the scary murderer who walks in.

you could feel the hair on your arms raise as he sat down, clearly just a tad too big for the leather booth he decided to sit in at the far corner of the diner. you swallow the dry lump in your throat as you walk over to him, shoes squeaking against the sticky linoleum floors.

“do you need a moment with the menu?”

the strange man just grunts in response, your eyes flickering everywhere but the man’s face. he was looking straight at you, dead eyes staring back through a ruinous facade.

“just a tea. black.”

the man’s voice was a vibrating rumble that you could feel through your bones. you nodded with a sweet smile, trying to cover up the fear you were no doubt experiencing.

“of course.”

you quickly turn, a shiver running down your spine as you walk away. it was even more chilling knowing that it was only you and one other person working tonight, the perfect setting for a murder to take place without a single trace of the perpetrator.

you could feel the dimness of the man’s eyes searing a hole in the back of your head while you prepared his tea. your nails were impatiently tapping a soft rhythm on the countertop near the kettle.

the loud whistle of the kettle penetrated through the thick air, the sound echoing off the walls of the building. you meticulously poured the tea into the mug, sweaty hands gripping onto the porcelain while you walked it over to the man in the booth.

“would that be all?”

the man didn’t reply, just stared right into the dark color of the tea. you took that as the cue to walk away. not super talkative, gotcha.

you walked to the back of the diner where your coworker was, wanting to stay as far from the man as possible.

“would you mind closing up once he leaves?”

your heart pummeled into your stomach once you heard those words. the last thing you wanted tonight was to be left here. alone. but maybe you were just paranoid. maybe the giant, frightening man was just awkward. don’t judge a book by its cover, and all.

you stuttered out a ‘that’s fine’ before your coworker was hurriedly making their way out through the back entrance. it felt even more eerie knowing that it was just you now. you looked through the window of the door to the kitchen and just watched the man. he sat there emotionlessly, mask pulled up slightly over his mouth to sip at his tea.

you could tell there was a scar that bisected right through his lip. the puckered skin not allowing his lip to fully cover his canine. you worked up the courage to go back to the dining area, wiping the sweat off of your brow before decidedly walking out.

you cleared your throat as you stood at the man’s table.

“um… do you want the check now?”

you approached him slowly, like he was a wild animal that shouldn’t be around sudden movements. like he’d pounce any moment. sink his sharp teeth right into the soft flesh of your carotid.

you cursed yourself for even saying anything when he slowly turned to look at you, still not speaking. your eyes fluttered as you handed him the check anyways. you hastily walked away, wanting to be as far away as possible at this point. this man seemed to only know how to communicate in grunts or mean stares.

a few minutes that felt like hours passed by, you checked to see if he was still here, and by the grace of some godly force, the man was gone. you released a large exhale and went over to the table to collect the cash but… there was nothing on the table. he left without paying!

“fuckin’ bastard!”

you crumbled up the check on the table, and angrily grabbed the empty mug. you should’ve known this would happen. a strange man walking into a diner late at night, only ordering tea, and then completely disappearing without paying. a measly 3-quid wouldn’t hurt his wallet, you were sure.

either way, you had to just take it for what it was. the man was finally gone, and you could now clock out for the night. you decided to just pay the missing money yourself, you’d rather not take this problem to your boss. essentially causing more problems than not.

you sighed heavily as you got into your car, the weight of the day falling off your shoulders finally. you still had the creeps from that man, but he could just be added to the long list of shady customers.

you only got down the street from the diner before your car started to sputter. you pulled off to the side of the road, a deep and dark forest on both sides of you. you quickly hopped out of the car, popping the hood to see if you could spot anything yourself. there was no service out here, so either you would have to check for problems yourself, or just wait it out.

just as you were intently looking around, a pair of bright headlights and the loud bellow of a truck pulled up right behind your car. you recognized the face in the drivers seat as the ominous man from the diner.

you fell right into the predators territory.

[mysslyssblog]

hey i know you just posted about dipper but I just love the way you write for him so much and theres like nothing about dipper 😭 could you write some more? maybe about what its like being long distance? please and thank you!

Older Dipper Pines x reader (16-17)

Warnings: reader is described as feminine, slight angst, happy ending

Thank you so much for the request! I think you were asking for headcanons but I changed it into a one shot! 💜💜

____________________________________________

always ~ D.P.

•Third Person POV•

Dipper Pines and y/n l/n have been dating for 3 years now. Through that 3 years, they’ve had to get used to long distance. They only see each other over breaks.

They haven’t let this affect their relationship. They’ve found ways to stay in touch. Texting, calling- always calling. Whether they’re eating, doing homework, sleeping. They’ll be on the phone. They call at least once a day.

It used to be worse though. They once called for 24 hours straight. Overtime they’ve gotten better at managing their personal life and love life, not totally relying on each other to be happy. But recently it’s been hard for Dipper, to be happy.

He’s always had a strained relationship with his parents but as he’s gotten older it’s gotten worse. Much worse. He’s constantly arguing with his parents. He’s even gotten kicked out for a few nights before. He would’ve ran away by now if it weren’t for Mabel. Mabel is the only reason that place is even a little bearable.

One of the biggest fights Dipper has had with his parents is when he got yelled at for calling y/n too much. His father saying “you’ll just break up by the time you’re 18”. This really set Dipper off. Which, of course, got him grounded.

Getting grounded was something that happened to Dipper a lot. But this time was different. It was days before prom in Gravity Falls and Mabel had been planning on going there for prom for years. And of course he wanted to go with y/n.

Dipper and y/n had already picked out color coordinated outfits. Prom wasn’t something Dipper was interested in, but y/n was really excited for it, so of course he would put 110% into it. For her.

It was the night of prom and Dipper was locked in his room. Mabel had gone to Gravity Falls alone and promised Dipper she would stick by y/n’s side to make sure she’s happy and he made sure to call her on a pay phone to say he loves her. But Dipper didn’t feel like he was doing enough. He needed to be with her.

He pushed himself up and off his bed, throwing on his suit and converse and grabbing some spare change. He snuck out of his window and managed to catch the last bus to Gravity Falls. He had a few hours before prom would start. He had to hurry.

•Currently in Gravity Falls - Your POV•

Dipper had already told me that he wouldn’t make it to prom. It didn’t fully set in until I watched only Mabel walk off the bus.

She’s been stuck to me like glue since she’s gotten here, despite her “totally hot boyfriend” being around. It’s obvious that Dipper told her to make sure I’m happy. It’s hard to feel happy when the one person you want isn’t with you.

The whole evening, I hold back tears. My friends do their best to keep my mind off of it. Pacifica does my makeup and hair. Mabel helps me put on my dress and gifted me handmade jewelry she made just for me and my dress. Candy and Grenda played my favorite music, put on my favorite movie, made my favorite snack, but nothing could shake the empty feeling I felt in my hand, the hand Dipper always holds.

•Dipper’s POV•

I pay the bus driving before leaping off of the bus. The sun is going down and it starts raining as soon as I step off of the bus. Great.

I began sprinting to the Mystery Shack. I have to get there before prom starts.

•Your POV•

Grenda, Candy, Pacifica, Mabel, and I group up as Stan snaps pictures of us with his polaroid camera that’s probably older than me. None of the pictures came out right and we probably wouldn’t have gotten any good pictures if it weren’t for Ford bringing out a better camera.

All of the girls were happy and giggling. I faked my smile as best as I could but I couldn’t shake that feeling. I look down at my hand. The hand that Dipper always holds. I see a ring. The promise ring that Dipper gave me.

The girls all pose with their dates. A wave of tension moves through the room as I move out of the picture. Mabel gives me a sad look and I just smile and give her a thumbs up.

Stan comes over and pats my shoulder. “Don’t worry kid. You can have a good time without him.” He says, trying to cheer me up. I just nod and give him a smile before he walks off.

“Okay ladies! Let’s go!” Pacifica says. I grab my purse before walking behind the group out of the back door. I hear a crash from the front door. We all turn around to see a soaking wet Dipper Pines, panting with a soggy bouquet of flowers.

My face lights up. “Dipper?” I say quietly. He nods.

I run up to him and engulf him into a hug.

We took more pictures, with Dipper this time. “Okay guys! Now we can go!” Pacifica says before dragging her date out by his arm. Dipper and I give each other a look before laughing. We begin walking and I feel his hand grab mine. The hand he always holds.

•Third Person•

They all sit in the giant limousine Pacifica rented for them. Dipper stares at y/n, thinking she doesn’t notice but like always, she does. She just pretends she doesn’t. As he studies her, he thinks about their future, his father’s words replaying in his head. “You’ll just break up by the time you’re 18.” He pushes the thoughts to the back of his mind and squeezes her hand tighter.

Spoiler alert: they get married.

____________________________________________

I’VE HAD THIS IDEA FOR SO LONG AND I’VE FINALLY WRITTEN IT! It’s kind of booty and corny but that’s why I love it. I love corny rom com things like this. Thank you for the request and I hope it’s what you were thinking. Thank you guys for all the support! 💜

[f10werfae]

My wife is fine, thanks

pairing: Husband!Henry x Wife!Reader

summary: I LOVE YOUR HENRY CAVILL POSTS!So can I request an Instagram blurb for wife!reader (obv for Henry Cavill), where fans react to wife!reader and henry having an age gap (10+). (requested by @chaotictwig)

requests are open/likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated♥️

Full M.List, Henry M.List, Taglist Form

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

@/hellostarsky: Can everyone stop hating on Henry, so what if he’s 39 and she’s 28?? They’re both legal consenting adults, he did not groom her and treats her with the utmost respect. She does not need the stress of you guys while she’s pregnant with their baby.

@/caviilll: I don’t care what anyone says, Y/n and Henry are so mf cute. The way he spoils the hell out of her and just always holds her close♥️♥️ If only

-

@/relatimefr: Ok but their age gap is so weird, she was being born when he was like 11 wtf

>> @/Prettyprincess: They lit started dating at 24 and 35, you can calm yourself honey, they did nothing but fall in love☠️

-

@/Henry Cavill: Happy 29th birthday to my lovely beautiful wife, the future mother to our baby(ies) and my best friend in life. Glad to be doing life with you and no one else, can’t wait to see you when I get home tonight, both you and baby Cavill ♥️

-

@/Holymacsncheese: But their age gap suits them sm, Y/n makes sure Henry keeps up to date with all the new things today, and he grounds her to a sense of comfort and love. They compliment each other so much, match made in heaven I say

-

@/Polypockets: yall acting as if he groomed her straight out of highschool, they literally met on set where she had to play his wife, yall just jealous cause it ain’t you 💋

-

@/Y/nCavill: 35 Weeks today! Baby Cavill is now officially nearly here, unfortunately i’ll be taking a break from future projects for some time, I want to finally settle down and accept my new role. The role of motherhood. Hope you all understand, Y/n xx

>> @/HenryCavill: I’d like to follow this by saying that, after this new movie I will also be taking a break for the next year or so, who knows. Just would like you all to know that I appreciate those who support us wholeheartedly, and I can’t wait to start this new journey!

-

@/User19204726: That picture of Henry showing Y/n new dresses in the maternity shop while she’s sitting watching him, is the cutest thing. She was too tired to walk about the shop, so he literally went around and got everything to have a mini fashion show for her

-

@/pumpituplease: God bless Y/n for posting pictures of Henry painting the nursery, that man is giving real dilf material now, and we can’t forget about the milf Y/n. Sexiest Power couple for realsies

-

@/geraltlovers: Omg I thought we were over the whole age gap thing?! Why the hell are papers still calling him all these names and calling Y/n naïve?? They lit have a child together, get a grip

>> @/petalsforpeps: omg ikr, like get over yourselves because they don’t care about what you have to say

-

@/Y/nCavill: Henry and I would like to welcome baby Penelope into the world, she arrived on September 25th and is currently rocking it! No pictures will be shared, hope you all understand that ♥️

-

@/cpatainsy: HENRY IS A DAD GUYS OMG, HIM AND Y/N’S BABY IS GONNA ACTUALLY SLAY THE REAL WORLD. WE BETTER PREPARE OURSELVES!!

-

@/rainbowsncakes: Omg that photo Y/n posted with Henry’s back to the camera, you can just see the tiniest bit of baby Penelope’s hair out of the corner of his arm, AND ITS DARK HAIR, SHE GOT HIS CURLY HAIR I BET

>> @/lotsoocks: YOO ACCORDING TO HENRY’S MUM’S POST, BABY PENELOPE CAME OUT ROUGHLY THE SAME SIZE HENRY WAS WHEN HE WAS BORN. POOR Y/N

>>> @Y/nCavill: NO BECAUSE THIS IS TRUE, 38 HOURS OF PURE HARD LABOUR. Thankful for all the nurses, doctors, midwives and especially my bear of a husband who didn’t leave me alone once♥️

-

@/user823783: Fuck this family bullshit, when is Henry gonna back to our screens?!

>> @/HenryCavill: i’m sorry but I don’t tolerate anyone speaking about my family like that, a fan of mine wouldn’t speak of people I love like that. We want to live a peaceful life full of love, if you can’t respect that then i’m glad i’m not back to work yet. Family comes first.

-

@/HenryCavill: I love my wife @Y/nCavill and my gorgeous daughter Penelope, the exact double of me I must say (sorry babe) I also love the people who support me, and it hurts me to say that it’s a minority of you that seem to keep harassing my family. Please respect our lives, not only has our relationship been through enough, but our privacy has been violated more than enough times. Enough is enough.

>> @/jellyjumpbean: What sorta losers are still hating on them?! Can we please grow up and stop being delusional, the man is happy with his own family now. None of then deserve this abuse and especially not little Penelope who hasn’t even been here 5 minutes

-

@/Dcornarvel: Y/n is absolutely growing post pregnancy, you would never guess that she’s edging 30, Henry is one lucky man for real

>> @/HenryCavill: That I am. Thank you very much my friend ♥️

———

Taglist Tags (Form is up there^^): @fdl305 @alexxavicry @bookfrog242 @alina02 @aerangi @i-beg-your-pardon-laufeyson @sparklemarysunshine @oliviah-25 @mischiefhasbeenmanaged @nikkitc0703 @misshale21 @hallecarey1 @girl-of-multi-fandoms @mansaaay @princess-paramour @stormcloudss @uwiuwi @marvelgurl @taramaria @mysticfalls01 @kebabgirl67 @athena-roy @tinyelfperson @madebylilly @dumb-fawkin-bitch @vrittivsanghavi @beck07990 @kimhtoo17 @thereisa8ella @pandaxnienke @marvelstarker-mha98

[slasheru]

Slasher U 1-Year State of the Union / Unholy Census!

Holy fucking shit we're coming along towards the 1-year anniversary of the release of the Slasher U Act 1 alpha!! We've come SO FUCKING FAR. Sawyer wasn't even a romanceable option back in the day! As of April 27th, it'll be Slasher U's first ever anniversary!

Mostly, I am SO FUCKING GRATEFUL that you all came along on the adventure to make my weird horny dating RPG a smash fucking hit!! Taking narrative seriously in dating/adult games was kind of my entire M.O (is?? mods??) and I am SO GRATEFUL Y'ALL UNDERSTAND WHAT I'M TRYING TO DO HERE lmao

THE BIG NUMBERS

As of 11:21 AM EST on 3/23/24, Slasher U: Act 1 has sold 6,100 copies across Steam & itch.io (Not including the copies sold as part of Games for Gaza that weren't redeemed/downloaded, so this only counts people who actually downloaded or bought the game!). This is obviously BEYOND MY WILDEST FUCKING DREAMS AND I CANNOT THANK YOU ENOUGH HOLY SHIT. I didn't even realize it until I added it all together. (On top of this, we sold several fucking tens of thousands of games for Games for Gaza!! Hell yeah!)

For my fellow solo devs out there, this comes to Slasher U making a total of about $6,000 + $2,000 net USD through sales (the former) and crowdfunding (the latter, for Slasher U: Act 2) over the last 11ish months!! The game started off being free for the first 6ish months, then went to $6.69 for the Beta (with dong! whoa!!), and now at its full size, stands at a good ol' $14.99 for 15 hours of primo datin' sim!

This is objectively the most money I've ever made off of anything I've developed in my entire life, and paid my whole ass rent for the entire year, so THANK YOU HOLY SHIT. According to Steam, most indie games barely break $1k in total, so I am AGOG. FUCKING AGOG. THANK YOU FOR LIKING MY GAME AND LETTING ME MAKE MORE VIA NOT DYING FROM CAPITALISM

The average review score, across 89 reviews on itch.io, remains 4.9 out of 5 stars, and we're rocking a 93% Positive on Steam!!

THE UNHOLY CENSUS

The best part of Slasher U is, as I always say, THE STUDENT DISEMBODY!! Slasher U will always be a place where everything is gay and trans as fuck (although I'm also proud of writing my cishet storylines too :V /lh)! I knew y'all were gay (hello fellow gays) but I did not realize the QUEER FUCKING FORCE THE STUDENT DISEMBODY IS

Here's the demographics of Slasher U players as taken from Tumblr polls (that's a skewed sample size of about 280, so grain of salt here for the homo website for queers):

92.6% of you ID as queer (see below for the breakdown!) | 7.4% of you ID as straight

This fictional horror movie campus is: 48.5% bi/pan, 16.2% gay/mlm, 10.3% lesbian/wlw, 10.3% ace (oo tie!), 7.4% queer but not defined as above, and 7.4% straight!

61.9% of you ID as trans/not cis | 23.8% of you ID as cis | 14.3% of you ID as neither trans nor cis

46.8% of you are between 22-26 | 32.3% of you are between 18-21 | 16.1% of you are between 27-32 | 4.8% of you are between 32-45 | 0% of you are older than 45 (sample size I am guessing lol)

For 14.6% of you, Slasher U was the very first dating sim you've ever played (!). For 3.8% of you, Slasher U was the first indie game you've ever played (holy fucking shit!!! this is an actual absolute honor)

76.7% of you instinctively Road Runner away from Melyssa at the fountain in Act 1 | 23.3% let the Melyssa tsunami arrive at you

--

A FINAL WORD (FOR NOW) ON MAKIN' VIDJEE GAEMS

You should totally do it.

No, okay, but for real, I started working in games professionally in 2009 (yeah yeah i'm old. i am 32 and i am dying and they're coming for me in the corpse wagon etc) and I burned out in 2016 and came back two years ago with THIS THING and I can tell you RIGHT FUCKIN' NOW that, if you have ever wanted to make a game and the big guys aren't gonna do it, grab yourself and/or some friends and fuckin' make a video game. I have worked for a bunch of AA and mobile companies and I can tell you right the fuck now that this is the most fulfilling experience I have ever had writing a video game. I taught myself programming logic to make this thing! And sound design! I fucking learned to animate sprite sheets!! YOU CAN ALSO DO IT given the time and energy (pace yourself don't die)! And there won't be any execs around to tell you your weird niche game won't sell!! BECAUSE IT FUCKING WILL

Anyway, my entire career as a game designer, nobody let me write shit for them. You don't need permission to make stuff or write stuff. If you write it, they will fuckin' come, Field of Dreams style (also don't forget to tell everyone you made stuff and share it around. super key here. lmao). Turns out writing is all about sharing yourself with people, and who knows, you might just find that a fuckton of people ACTUALLY relate to you. (And that you're a pretty good writer. Which you knew. Yes, you. I am mixing metaphors and pointing to myself AND you now.)

xoxoxoxooxoxox,

Professor Plutonium

[maybeimamuppet]

OKAY MUPPETS IT IS TIIIIME FOR EZZYS OPINION HOUR

i saw the mean girls movie yesterday and i have THOUGHTS. spoilers below the cut but general thoughts up here

1. is it objectively not a super great movie? yes

2. is it my new favorite movie? yes

3. will i defend this movie tooth and nail from people who don’t like it just bc it’s a musical or bc they’re a 2004 purist? YES

4. did this movie make me feel so many conflicting emotions back to back i have now had a tummyache for 24 hours? YESSS

5. will i ever, ever, EVER IN MY LIFE forgive tina fey for the ending? no.

alright babes welcome to below the elementary school gym class parachute

last spoiler warning!!

these aren’t all in order and are most definitely not all the thoughts i had bc i have the memory storage of a flea and once an experience is over it is GONE FROM MY HEAD so this is the list of thoughts i struggled to put together when i got home lmao

overall thoughts:

it felt very gimmicky. the stage production felt gimmicky too but in a fun way, this was gimmicky in a way that kinda gave me a touch of the ick

it did not feel to me very much like a cohesive movie. it felt like browsing ig or tiktok and just seeing a hodgepodge of scenes stuck together. which is a cool idea but idk how well it worked in practice and i also don’t know if it was intentional.

this is not the word i’m looking for but in terms of personality they absolutely whitewashed all of the characters and i really don’t care for that. the visuals and the casting were so immaculate but in terms of personality they just made them all taste like unsweetened corn flakes.

i’m biased and didn’t care for most of the tweaks they made to the songs individually BUT i think they blended with each other more cohesively than they do in the stage production so that was cool. and i am able to understand why they made them more pop-esque than theatre-y it’s just not my personal vibe

it all felt very emma watson’s beauty and the beast. like. not deserving of much hate but also just not as good. it has its time and place but i still just. the changes they made were too much for me. that being said i am gonna be the #1 viewer whenever it’s released to streaming platforms was not kidding when i said this is a new favorite movie

the whole like. tiktok and iphone camera thing was an interesting??? idea. i really liked it for cautionary tale but the rest. i think it was a better idea than the way they executed it.

i miss do this thing!! i wish they had done like a mashup with it and the stupid with love reprise but i wasn’t mad at the reprise so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

fourth wall break was real cringe!!

thoughts abt cady:

angourie is so cute!!!!!!! she has the perfect look for cady. her costumes were kinda yikes but physically she’s mwah chefs kiss perfection

cady is so viscerally autistic in this version and it is DELIGHTFUL

but again i feel like they took so much from her. in the show she’s this overexcited little bubbly (autistic again but still) thing and she’s naive and then it’s revealed she’s conniving and manipulative and has this serious dark streak in her. in the movie it felt like she was just. awkward and then straight to conniving and manipulative. it was interesting but i miss my little jumping bean i wish they had given her some more spice

this movie has turned me into a cadina shipper of THE HIGHEST ORDER i’m already writing a fic for them and i call diiiiibs nobody else do it i write slow /j

i honestly really liked what ifs. i didn’t enjoy it as much as it roars but i think for the screen and for angourie’s voice it was a better fit. and i think it blended better with the new versions of the songs than it roars would have. not mad at it and the staging of it was really cool

cady being the one with a single parent is so interesting to me!! idk why they did that but i think it’s interesting. makes me wonder what happened to her dad but also go mom!!! women in stem!!!

her relationship with the art freaks was so???? weird??? it seemed like damian was the only one who really wanted all of them to be friends. i love this version of janis and damian together but when they were with cady it was all just so BLAND. it didn’t really feel like she and janis were friends at all which is what’s supposed to make the betrayal sting so much

whatever they were aiming for with someone gets hurt they missed hard bc holy cadina batman that shits gay dude BUT THE STAGING WAS SO COOL with everyone like frozen and then they all kick back in all crazy with the music it was great

janis thoughts:

THEY FUCKING RUINED HEEEEEEEER

AULI’I WAS SO PERFECT SHE WAS SO CUTE AND HER OUTFITS ARE SO COOL BUT THEY JUST TOOK AWAY ALL OF HER PERSONALITY

janis is supposed to be spunky and angry and hurt and vengeful and quirky and out there and firey and she’s meant to HAVE GRIT GOTDANGIT but again she just felt so whitewashed. like here’s a vaguely leftist lesbian in ripped jeans and cool eyeshadow that’s janis right?? LIKE NO IT IS NOT

i’d rather be me, while it had a little less vocal oomph behind it than the stage show, was as transcendent as i hoped for and i got chills multiple times. also the comedic timing of the bus was immaculate and the sound it made made me cackle

i can’t tell how i feel about the new middle school incident. i think it takes so much of the pain out of it for janis which is meant to be her main motivator. she was not supposed to be KICKED OUT she was PULLED OUT but i do kind of like that they clearly made it where regina kissed a girl and liked it and freaked out and that was the catalyst for everything

i do not ship this version of cadnis and that to me is unforgivable. they have sooo little chemistry as friends let alone lovers i just can’t stand it. janis doesn’t ever even seem like she wants cady around. it seems so much like they took away what makes janis janis just to turn her into another catalyst for regina and cady’s stories

apex predator was fun!! i honestly like it being janis and damian singing it better than janis and cady i think it works better as a warning and stuff! and also the band in the tree made me laugh so hard. i’m glad cady had them as her tour guides but again that’s all it felt like they were to each other and i miss them being a little posse

REVENGE PARTYYYYYYUH. i thought the staging was really fucking weird?? like all the pastels and shit didn’t really fit i would’ve much preferred it to start like that and then have blood dripping down the walls or something when they’re talking ABOUT PEOPLES HEADS ON SPIKES. but musically it was my favorite of everything!! i’m so happy they put the original verse back i almost screamed out loud in the theater when i heard it!!!!!

i never thought i would say this but i wish they had not canonically made her a lesbian. i will never forgive tina fey for having her end up with that random girl. no shade to the girl, she’s gorgeous and i’m glad we got some on screen, good, healthy queer rep. but in my eyes that is absolutely just a cop out because they know people wanted her to end up with cady or regina. they’re spitting on us and saying “here have your fucking lesbian and enjoy it this is what you get” and expect us to be happy with it. i get so angry every time i think about it and it honestly kind of ruined the whole thing for me. i would rather she have ended up with kevin g again. or like. honestly damian romantically would’ve made more sense in a twisted fucked up way. i just absolutely hate how they handled that.

damian thoughts:

HE! WAS! PERFECT! i am a grey henson stan first and a human being second but by golly he might be my new favorite. comedic timing on point and the fact we barely get to hear him sing is a FELONY. he was delightful and i love him also we love black queer rep!!! fuck yeah!!!! his bit with the fan before id rather be me. sent me into the dang stratosphere i love him so much

ALSO HIS DATE AT RHE END WE LOVE THESTRE BOYYYYY!!! ugh so cute i love

regina thoughts:

HOW DID THEY MAKE HER SUCH A COWARD???? HOW DO YOU TAKE A CHARACTER WITH SO MUCH POWER AND FUCK HER UP THIS BAD???

again everything that’s a core tenet of her personality was removed. i wasn’t afraid of her which is a CRIME bc renee on broadway’s regina was TERRIFYING. she just felt like one of those girls that every hs has like 7 of. they’re a dime a dozen, they’re rich and hot shit and they know it but you don’t care what they do because you know they’ll be divorced and broke and probably fat at your 10 year reunion. it’s giving peaked in high school and not queen bee which is really sad honestly

it made cady seem so much more evil tho?? like regina seemed. hurt. and cady was still so gung ho about taking her down. and it made janis seem much more manipulative too. i don’t care for either of those things

her costumes were so weird??? half that shit regina would not touch with a ten foot pole but it’s renee and she would and she’s hot so i do not care. also this isn’t a criticism but her halloween costume was giving gargoyle more than angel lol

plastics thoughts:

gretchen again felt really reductive. she was all anxiety. not that gretchen isn’t that onstage but it just felt like that was her entire personality. but bebe was adorable and i loved what’s wrong with me she did a great job

avantika was DELIGHTFUL. i loved her so much more than i was expecting to she was the only one where i never had a moment like “i am watching people acting in a movie they are repeating written lines” it felt much more like fluid with her. 10/10 beautifully done to her

aaron thoughts:

HOW DID THEY MAKE HIM MORE BORING????? MY GOD

he was already the most redundant character in the whole goddamn thing and they somehow made him even more useless. he could’ve been removed from the movie entirely and it would’ve changed NOTHING. he is white bread if he was a spice he’d be flour. didn’t think it was possible to make him more that but by golly they did it

HOW DID HE AND CADY END UP TOGETHER HE HAS THE CHEMISTRY OF A BRICK WALL. she has so much more romantic fire and chemistry with regina this is some of the most comphet shit i’ve ever seen. it’s giving wicked levels of comphet like gooooddamn.

misc. thoughts:

THAT LINDSAY LOHAN CAMEO HAD ME OUTBOF MY SEAT I DID NOT SEE THAT COMING BUT IT WAS AMAZING also that “i don’t know your life” was mwah

MS NORBURY SND MR DUVALLLL WERE SO CUUUUUTE i squealed ngl i love them

overall like 7/10 good movie i’m angry about a whole bunch but this is also amazing i’m so glad we got this new content and i am definitely hyperfixating on it now. so not that different from my stage show opinions lol

[saruman-the-silly]

If its okie, some extra sweet fluffy copia with a pudgy fem.reader? ( or gn, if that's easier >w< )

HELL YEAH I gotta say, Copia would absolutely love a bigger girl, have you seen this mans ass?? He would worship the ground you walk on like 24/7

I know this probably wasn't what you had in mind but I hope you don't mind the direction I went with it (Idk why I thought of writing this hehe) but I made him propose to you and I made it extra fluffy and sappy, so hehe :D enjoy!

--------------

Copia slammed the giant book on his desk shut, looking at the clock. His work was done for the day and he was free to see you, finally. He missed you, your smile, your laughter and your beautiful eyes he could get lost in for hours.

..Today was also the day he would finally propose to you, after being together for 3 years. Time does fly, when you're spending it with the most beautiful woman in all existence, Copia thought to himself.

Copia opened the ring box and looked at it fondly. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts and decided to text you.

"Amore, are you done with your work? I would like to take you out for dinner tonight, if that's okay. We could go to your favourite restaurant at 7?"

He put the phone down, but instantly got a reply.

"Yeah, that sounds fun! I would kill for some food right now 😫, I'll take a quick shower and meet you there!"

Copia sent a short but sweet reply, and smiled to himself. His amore was just too sweet to him, the old man he was. He sighed, rubbing his eyes and got up to find something appropriate to wear.

He looked at the ring one last time, making sure it shone brightly and put the box back in his pocket.

Meanwhile, you were getting in the shower and thought about Copia. Oh, how you loved your sweet, awkward and handsome Copia. Your thoughts trailed back to your first meeting..

When you first met him you were sure he would not take any interest in you, with you being a bigger girl. You weren't skinny like the other Sisters, so you thought he would just do what any other Sibling would do: be polite and leave it at that.

You were walking down a hallway, carrying some translated texts for Primo, and you bumped into someone. And the texts flew. Everywhere.

"Oh nononono, I am so sorry, sorella, I did not watch where I was going-" The cardinal fumbled, gathering the texts, but he froze when he made eye contact with you. You blushed under his intense gaze, and smiled nervously.

"It's okay, but thanks anyway." He still couldn't stop staring at you. You waved a hand in front of his face.

"Helloo? Cardinal?" Copia blinked rapidly and blushed.

"I am sorry I was just distracted by your beautiful eyes, le mie scuse sorella." He got up and took your hand, gently placing a kiss on it.

Your first meeting was straight out of a movie, and the whole relationship that bloomed from it proved to be even better. You shook your head, rinsing the left over conditioner off and got out of the shover.

You decided to keep your outfit simple today, only putting on some mascara and a red lip with your favourite red dress. Soon it was time to go, and you arrived at the restaurant, looking for Copia.

Copia was feeling a bit nervous, fidgeting with his gloves. He felt the little square box in his pocket and sighed, looking around for you. And there you were.

You looked like a goddess. The red dress showed all of your curved perfectly and Copia was sure he was dreaming. This woman, this perfect woman, was his. He scrambled up from his chair, greeting you with a kiss on the hand.

"Amore, you look absolutely divine tonight." Copia shamelessly checked you out right then and there, making you blush.

"Oh stop it, you don't look too bad yourself," you smiled and straightened his collar. He grinned, before pulling up a chair for you.

You sat down and ordered your food, talking each others day and how it went. You noticed Copia looked a bit more nervous than usual, but you shrugged it off, maybe he was just a bit anxious.

After you had finished your food, paid for it and you got up from the table, Copia said: "Let's take a walk now, I know a beautiful place nearby."

You happily agreed and took his arm, letting him lead you outside. You strolled along the small path, chatting happily. Copia's eyes seemed to glow under the autumn sunset, and you found yourself getting lost in his mismatched gaze once again.

"...Amore? Are you in there?" Copia laughed, waving a hand in front of your face. You blinked and shook your head, "Yeah? You were saying?"

Copia grinned, making his dimples more prominent. "I was saying how gorgeous you look tonight, mia amata." You smirked, and slowly brought your hands around his neck, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "Not as gorgeous as you, Copia." You whispered in his ear, making his breath stutter. You pulled back, kissed him on the nose and laughed at his face. Copia smiled fondly, and took your hand, leading you up to a small pond.

"Wow, this is so pretty! Why haven't I seen this place before, it looks so beautiful with all the autumn colours and-" You admired aloud, before turning back to Copia, who was kneeling down on one knee before you. Your hands flew to your mouth and you gasped.

"Il mio amore, il mio cuore, la mia vita. I cannot describe all the things I feel when you are with me. You have made me the happiest man on earth, from the moment I first bumped into you. I was a lonely man, but you changed that. You made me see the worth in myself.

In turn, you gave me the honour of getting to know you, inside and out." Copia got the tiny box out of his pocket, and opened it to reveal a beautiful engagement ring.

"I honestly do not know what my life would be without you, amore," He smiled, eyes shining. "So, will you make me the happiest man on earth and marry me?"

You had started crying some time during his little speech and you answered: "Yes! Yes, a million times yes!" Copia gave a relieved laugh, and shakily put the ring on your finger.

When he got up, you embraced him tightly, hugging him while crying. He held onto you tightly, burying his face in your hair. When you pulled back, you cupped his face in your hands and kissed him fiercely, pouring all the love you had for him into the kiss.

----------------------------

I tried to make it extra fluffy and romantic, hope you enjoy! <3

[freevoidman]

The Pros and Cons of Silent Hill: Ascension

Hey there! Are you planning on sitting through Silent Hill Ascension, either because you're excited, want to build up hype/support for further Silent Hill projects, or maybe you're curious about what new shit show Konami's cooked up? Well, I've sat through the first two days, and let this post be a quick run-through on the good, the bad, and the very, very ugly about Silent Hill: Ascension!

Pros:

There's honestly very little, but I'll run through them nonetheless.

Voice Acting is, right now, okay. Some actors are clearly better than others. I have to give special shout-outs to Rachel Hernandez and Xavier Candless. They're both doing really well with their characters so far and I'm excited to hear how they'll act in more emotive scenes. Of course, we're only two days in so we'll see how that changes.

Silent Hill Ascension features minigames which average around "okay." I'll talk about it more in the 'Bad' section, but the good ones are fun little brain teasers that I find satisfying enough to solve. This is not across the board, but it's enough of a positive that I felt it okay to list.

The site is functional enough that the catch-up videos seemed to work without any hiccups (edit: so long as there isn't a livestream occurring at the same time. If you want to play catch-up 30 minutes before the new stuff is released, odds are the livestream will cut in and mess up your video). Plus, the grace period for decision making is very generous so far, ranging from a full 24 hours to multiple days, so they do give you enough time if you can't watch live.

Credit where credit is due: the monster/creature designs are genuinely well-made. You can clearly see where the budget went, and it was towards making these things look cool and be animated well enough to translate that creepy factor. While nothing is abundantly original right now (we've yet to see the flaming box head guy) I won't short-change the monster designers and animators here, they put effort into this.

There was a bit of misinformation spread around that you'd have to pay to participate. Thankfully, that's not true, you can "play" Ascension without paying a cent and I, personally, wouldn't call this a "pay-to-win" type of game with its set-up. In other words: DO NOT PAY, it's absolutely not worth it here.

Bad:

Animation quality shifts from middling to horrible. The main criticism I have for this "experimental idea" is that everything Ascension tries, the 2000s nailed long before. If you've ever seen one of those 3D straight-to-TV movies that airs on cartoon networks during the holidays, congrats, their animation is likely better and has more charm than Ascension. Characters in Ascension move stiffly, either emote too much or not enough, and lip syncing seems off no matter which language you pick. Animation in SH1 is easily better than this, so don't expect a visual spectacle.

As an addendum to this: Ascension is dark--no, not the content, it is literally hard to see. Going into a Silent Hill-adjacent media, you expect visibility to be impacted by fog. Ascension, on the other hand, skips the fog entirely and just makes everything dark. It is incredibly difficult to see anything that's happening (this includes QTEs which, hoo boy! look at the next segment for that). I don't want to be cynical, but I truly do believe that part of the reason why is to cover up the stiff animation. Until Dawn and other Dark Anthology games had some moments of animation weirdness, but Silent Hill Ascension is easily worse than that on a pure technical level.

App and website responsivity is baaad. Minigames are designed for both platforms with zero differences, but this means some minigames are better on desktop than on mobile and vice versa. Two minigames stand out as particularly mixed/bad: a find-the-object game and a guitar minigame. The find-the-object game was better on desktop because your hovering cursor could find clickable areas more easily than on mobile. The guitar minigame was just bad--it wasn't a rhythm game, it was a game where you had to click finger positions for chords on the guitar strings and, my god, it played horribly no matter which platform I picked (though mobile was noticeably worse) and actually hurt my ears.

As an addendum to that, the live QTE events (yes that's a thing) ALSO suffer from this lack of responsivity, with more destructive results. Live participants were abruptly thrust into QTEs with no warning, no tutorials, and no preparation. There were 4 types of QTEs: a quick button press, a hold-release button, a rapid-tap, and a quick swipe. Of these, only the hold-release and rapid-tap worked regularly. The quick press barely responded, and the swipe indicator is practically hidden due to it being borderline invisible.* While you can try the minigames over and over as much as you want, the QTEs are limited to the live showings and cannot be "replayed." In addition, they have been heavily implied to be a major determining factor as to whether or not characters survive, so if every character's fate is based on successful QTEs, every character is going to die in this show, no matter what you do. This is why I said it's not pay-to-win, you can't pay your way through live QTEs, and this set-up feeds into the unsatisfactory system the entire "game" perpetuates. Even if YOU do well, decisions are based on the community, so if they fail, tough nugs.

The story isn't shaping up to be anything remarkable. There's no major hook in the opening scene and even less of a hook for the three scenes that followed. I'm not intrigued by the "horror" being shown, the way this is being shot and told is more confusing than anything else and, while there are some 'good' actors in this, a majority of them are bad and lack any hutzpah to sell the continued experience. I'm going to hold out for the end of the week, when the first "episode" is done airing, but if nothing hooks me I'm not going to continue.

Ugly:

The "Battlepass." Oh dear god the Battlepass. By paying $20, you can get more "influence points," which you can use to determine actions in this game. You also get exclusive little emote stickers for the live chat (oof) that are, at best, a cringey nightmare and, at worst, absolutely stupid and useless. You also get accessories for your avatar (did I mention there's an avatar? it's so pointless I don't even know WHERE to put that tidbit). Why is this even here? You already have freemium options where you can buy influence points, what does a battlepass add?

The "live chat" just shouldn't be there. I'm sorry, it shouldn't. You can already see the community casting votes and helping with QTEs, having a live chat that is barely moderated with hundreds of thousands of people signing on at 9 to watch the stupidity unfold is a bad idea. It also contributes to the stupidity of the Battlepass system--I don't want emotes, I don't want a 3D avatar that can appear in the show if I give enough points--so nix the whole thing. EDIT 11/1/2023: I kinda got my wish! After the amazing lack of moderation on launch, they've either temporarily OR permanently disabled the live chat! Unfortunately, the video's dimensions to compensate FOR live chat have not been altered, so there's a big gap of black negative space where it should be. People can only reply with the dumb stickers the devs have shoved into this, BUT if you have the battlepass, you can apparently type messages! Ironically, this retroactively gives the battle pass an actual fucking purpose since it gives you a privilege, and the stickers serve a purpose since they're the only way for non-battlepassers to communicate in live chat. Fucking brilliant, they've stumbled backwards into an unintentional solution. EDIT 11/4/2023: Genvid's CEO, Jacob Navok, has made various claims on twitter that of course they tested they tested their AI moderation for basic slurs, it's just that the system got overwhelmed by day 1 traffic. Well, I absolutely DON'T believe that (the testing, not the overwhelmed thing, connection and stability were terrible day 1) seeing as people are getting around not being able to TYPE swearing and horrific racial slurs into chat by simply making their usernames swears and slurs without any letter substitution (a la leetspeak). Here is a link to a video of someone who was streaming Ascension and had the chat open, only to see have someone with the user name "Fuck_[n-word]s" in chat (I'm not typing the actual slur fuck that). When he goes to try and flag the user, he is given no ability to report the username. So, yeah, even if you see some incredibly racist/bigoted shit, you can't flag the user and report them to, y'know, assist with the absolutely real robot-powered moderation that totally exists! If there was the most BASIC moderation in the world to catch english swears and slurs, that username would not have been permitted under any circumstances, so I fully do not believe this fucker.

The decisions themselves shouldn't have labels. What I mean by that is that, so far, every option has three possible options. These options are labelled under three categories: redemption, suffering, and damnation. In other words, the watcher can literally see the paths leading towards the "good, neutral, and bad" endings for Ascension. This shouldn't be a thing, period, because it immediately introduces biases into your choices. Every option so far has been massively skewed towards the "redemption" path because people aren't blind, they can see the "good" ending on the horizon, and they want to go for it. The worst part is, the options on their on aren't explicitly good or bad, so if they got rid of that labeling it'd still work. idk, it just feels stupid. (NOTE: day 2 introduced ONE choice that doesn't have this same labeling system. No clue if that's a bug or if there are going to be decisions that don't have a label. Even then, it seems like a small decision in the overall scheme of things, so... :shrug:)

Yes, the decisions are permanent, thus denying you the ability to see 2/3s of whatever Genvids has worked on. I just think that's dumb and, though many in the community have criticized this already, it feels even dumber when watching the show play out live. There's no way that the money Ascension could possibly make would subsidize the effort put into this if you're effectively nixing 2/3s of anything you can see (and it does seem like major alterations to the characters and their routes so far, nothing minor, so... yeah, you're missing out on a LOT). This also means that because of the audience effectively being enticed to pick the clearly labelled "good path," if you put any effort into a different choice, odds are you wasted your time with minigames for the day. This means Ascension is set up to be as unsatisfying as possible for individuals, and only satiates half of the community engaging with it. There is no way this is going to last the entire scheduled 6 months this is intended to run for if this is the system they're operating under.

In conclusion: give this one a pass. If you're really curious, you can watch now and get a good idea of its future quality. This isn't remarkable at all and looks more like a time sink than anything "fun."

I still don't understand why this isn't a video game, other than Konami hoping some suckers will pay for the influence packs and get them more money than a $60 one-time-purchase. Quantic Dreams and Supermassive "Dark Anthology" games are really fun and well-liked because of the CYA angle they take. This could've made a decent amount of money if it were just, y'know, a normal game.

*MINOR EDIT: tested the QTEs on desktop instead of mobile and they were better overall: prompts respond easily to mouse clicks and aren't nearly as invisible on my phone screen compared to my desktop. If you are REALLY interested in trying it live and getting a feel of the "authentic, live experience", I'd recommend accessing the site on desktop over downloading a mobile app.

EDIT 11/2/2023

Yeah I know I keep editing this honestly BUT I do have a big-ass critique I just noticed relating, again, to the minigames.

Here is a screenshot of the rewards you can receive for your performance with the minigames. You are rated on a scale of 1-3 stars, with a failure being 0 stars. In return for your performance, you gain "Interactive Points" and EXP. Tell me, after looking at this screenshot, what the problem with these rewards might be:

Do you see it? Well, if you don't, let me point it out to you.

THE AMOUNT OF INTERACTIVE POINTS YOU RECEIVE, THE CURRENCY YOU USE TO ACTUALLY MAKE DECISIONS AND PROPERLY CONTRIBUTE TO THE STORY, GOES DOWN IF YOU DO WELL AT THE MINIGAMES. THE GAME ACTIVELY PUNISHES YOU FOR PLAYING WELL.***

100 interactive points, by the way, is not enough to vote on a decision! You need 200 minimum. You also cannot repeatedly play the minigames to farm IP or EXP so, once you get two stars, you can't get the rewards for three or vice versa. And remember, if you're not a battlepasser, you only get two of these minigames per day.

Why on earth is it scaled this way? The difference between two stars and three stars is the exact same, why does it not increase when you do the minigames well? 100 for one star, 200 for two, 300 for three, it's so god damn easy AND you can still keep the scummy interactive point packages they sell!

But, I here you asking, what does the EXP do? Well, ignoring that a 10 EXP difference is exceeding minimal, EXP gives you... nothing!

Yeah, not even kidding with this one. There does seem to be a leveling system attached to your profile, but I cannot see a single thing connecting it to rewards (which are across the board useless), giving you a power boost with your voting, or just giving you perks. As far as I'm aware, EXP doesn't grant you a god damn thing, and that's the only increased reward from doing well.

***CORRECTION (because nothing in my life can ever be simple): the minigames DO reward you better than the screenshot above. Just did today's minigames and I got 330 IP from a 2 star ranking. However, if that's the case, I GENUINELY do not understand why this is labelled incorrectly? This doesn't even add up correctly (the 1 star + 2 star ranking should equal 300, NOT 330).

So, at best, the site is poor at labelling things (which wouldn't surprise me, the UI is a mess most days on this) OR my view of the site/rewards are bugged! Who fuckin' knows at this point. Sorry for the long rant y'all but honestly? Considering I only noticed the labelling earlier today and couldn't test this until the reset happened, I could only go off the labelled point system above.

I WILL say that tonight was the first night the community succeeded at the endurance scenes! I'd be happier about that if the game itself gave a shit, because apparently, what we do does not matter (as this game seems rapt with telling us)

Yes folks, despite the community succeeding two (2!) of these long ass, repetitive QTE events, for some fucking reason, Karl's hope went down further! This is, again, despite the fact that the community AT LARGE succeeded for the first time since the premiere date, but we still lost! Fucking how.

[roseverdict]

Mechanize, Mobilize, (Un)Mythicize (also i am not really vibing with the title and kinda wanna change it at some point)

Chapter 3: The Capture of Some City In Ohio

Alexis "Alexcrafter28" Hayward has just been made aware that the world is now becoming an apocalypse movie. Now she just needs to get her sisters and her laptop full of stick figures out of the house and somewhere their dad can find them again without getting captured by the evil robots. No pressure!

Meanwhile, Stephen Hayward finds himself surrounded by the robot uprising and unable to make sure his daughters are okay. Understandably, he blows his stack. In doing so, however, he ends up rescuing a small family of three, and all four of them are there to see some kind of stick figure animation, of all things, hijack every screen in sight. Surely the concept of programs in the forms of cartoons is just as foreign to the family of three as it is to Stephen. Surely the other father isn't keenly feeling the absence of a rainbow of sticks that he was forced to leave behind.

〜

lmao mecha apocalypse au i lovingly named the sti-fi au over a year ago @ me yesterday:

hahaha. it's uhhhhh. it's been a while hasn't it? lmao i got jostled out of my groove with a lot of my fanon worldbuilding when we got Wanted and then also The Box, which threw me off long enough for ninja turtles to infiltrate my brain.

i now have multiple tmnt-stickfigure xovers rattling around in my brain and having a blast, ntm straight-up turtle fic. i am playing with the canon teetleverse like bionicles. <3

i was browsing the ao3 subreddit recently, though, and one of the posts was asking what our favorite compliments we've gotten are. that got me to go back and reread a lot of the comments i've gotten, and i figured i'd go back and reread some of the stuff i've got posted, too.

welcome one and all to ava/m fixation 3: this time i'm really losing my mind i swear

now featuring "actually i'm keeping most of my worldbuilding and unless i can figure out a way to add it in later, we will be operating like vic really didn't make it out of ava 1"!

BRIEF MENTION OF VOMIT. nothing in detail, just a one-off remark by a harried teenager's internal narration about how it was a thing that happened recently

〜

Alexis Hayward licked her dry lips and slid the laptop, its charger, and its mouse into her backpack with a change of clothes and what would have been her school lunch.

Thank goodness she'd thrown up last night. She couldn't go back to school until more than 24 hours after she'd puked, but her lunch had already been pre-packed.

She'd woken up feeling better, too, which was a plus if the world was really ending.

She crept to her sisters' room and snuck inside, hissing, "We gotta get outta here!"

Vicki and Nicki looked at her worriedly, but (smartly) didn't loudly ask her what was going on.

Alexis just tiptoed to their bedroom window and carefully pointed outside in explanation.

A few blocks away, the giant robots that Alexis had seen through her bedroom window were slowly and steadily getting closer to the house. People's houses were getting broken into, and as she watched, more of their neighbors were pushed out into the street.

The twins followed her and peeked out at the carnage, only to flinch back down and away from the window.

Swallowing down her fear so her sisters wouldn't worry, Alexis forced on a weak smile. "Here's the plan. The evil robots haven't gotten to us yet, but they're gonna soon. Vicki, go grab stuff from the pantry that we can open with just our hands. Nicki, go get our waterbottles and those filter thingies Dad got for when we go camping. I've got nice programs on my computer that're hiding from the mean ones, so I'm gonna grab Dad's fancy solar panel charger bag so I can keep my laptop turned on, and we can put the food and stuff in the bag part. Meet back here so we can get away together, okay?"

"Got it!" whispered Vicki as she scurried away.

Nicki nodded with enough force to make her whole body bounce a little, then ran off after Vicki.

Alexis slumped as soon as the two of them were out of sight, then headed for Dad's room, pulled her phone from her pocket, and dialed Dad. Surprisingly, she managed to get through.

Dad's voice was panicked, and it was almost drowned out by the noise of the robots on his end causing chaos, but he sounded unhurt. "Alexis?! Alexis, sweetie, are you and your sisters okay?!"

"We are for now, Dad," Alexis said, a small smile on her face as she slung the charger bag over the top of her backpack. "I saw the robots coming, but they're not here yet. I've got the twins getting food and water, and I'm grabbing your solar bag if that's okay. I'm gonna try and get us to-"

"Don't say over the phone," Dad interrupted. "I don't want these things finding you."

"Wh-? But how are you gonna find us?" Alexis pressed.

"You're going to your castle, aren't you?" asked Dad knowingly.

"I haven't called it that since I was, like, seven!" protested Alexis. Then, begrudgingly, "…but, yeah, somewhere around there."

"Then that's where I'll look for you," Dad said simply. "I love you, Princess. Your sisters, too. I love you all with my whole heart."

Alexis swallowed down the lump in her throat. "Love you too, Dad."

A high-pitched scream pierced the air, and Alexis jolted, her phone falling from her hand. "Nicki-?!"

Dad's voice rose fearfully, but the phone was the least of Alexis's worries as she sprinted from the twins' room to find one of the giant robots holding Nicki up by the arm.

Alexis saw red.

"LET HER GO!"

She charged the robot, grabbing the first thing in her way and chucking it at the monster holding her sister.

The mostly-full water bottle- one of the big ones the size of multiple milk jugs that Dad had gotten for his office- slammed into the robot, splashing water everywhere and making the robot freeze up.

Alexis jumped up and grabbed Nicki, tugging her free as lightning started sparking around the machine. "You okay?"

"Mm-hmm," Nicki sniffled. She held out the bag Dad kept the filters in. "I got the filter straws, but I was filling the big bottle when it got me."

"You did good, Tiny," Alexis assured. "Let's go grab Teeny and get out of here, okay?"

Nicki gave her a wobbly smile and a nod, and Alexis took her hand and sped for the pantry. Before they reached it, though, Vicki burst out and tackled Nicki in a hug that was quickly returned.

Alexis scanned Vicki for injuries, and only once she found none did she turn to inspect the piles of food Vicki had made in the pantry.

Unfortunately, she didn't get the time to actually look at them.

There came heavy, metallic footsteps, and Alexis just shoved the closest things into Dad's solar bag before dragging the twins away from the sound. "Gotta be super-quiet, okay? Let's get going!"

Her sisters nodded, and Alexis cracked open the kitchen window.

When no robots came charging after them from either side, she boosted Nicki over the side, then Vicki.

Still nothing.

Alexis climbed out herself and eased the window shut.

Still nothing.

Alexis dug into her pocket for her phone so she could pull up a map, but her heart sank as she realized where she'd dropped it and why.

"Guess we're doing this the old-fashioned way," she muttered.

Vicki looked up at her. "Hm?"

"C'mon, let's get to the park," Alexis said. "Dad'll find us if we go there."

〜

Stephen pressed himself flat against the wall, willing the robots to overlook him and move past the darkened alleyway he'd hidden in.

Much to his surprise…they did.

He allowed himself a moment to breathe as they passed him by, then slunk further into the shadows. He intended to turn tail and run for home-

The vibration of his phone nearly made him yelp in surprise, but when he dug it out to look-

Incoming Call: Alexis

Immediately, he accepted the call and brought the phone up to his ear. "Alexis?! Alexis, sweetie, are you and your sisters okay?!"

Alexis's voice was distorted slightly, as if the connection wanted to drop, but she sounded unhurt. "We are for now, Dad. I saw the robots coming, but they're not here yet. I've got the twins getting food and water, and I'm grabbing your solar bag if that's okay. I'm gonna try and get us to-"

"Don't say over the phone," Stephen cautioned. "I don't want these things finding you."

"Wh-? But how are you gonna find us?"

Stephen stifled a chuckle. "You're going to your castle, aren't you?"

Alexis's voice took on the Trademark Teenaged 'More Mature Than That' Tone that everyone seemed to get once they hit thirteen. "I haven't called it that since I was, like, seven!"

Stephen waited a beat.

"…but, yeah, somewhere around there," she eventually admitted.

Stephen let himself smile at that. "Then that's where I'll look for you. I love you, Princess. Your sisters, too. I love you all with my whole heart."

Alexis's voice was thick. "Love you too, Dad."

Before Stephen could tell her that he'd meet the three of them as soon as he could, a distant, high-pitched scream burst from the speaker.

"Nicki-?!"

"Alexis, what's going on?!" Stephen asked, pressing the phone tighter to his ear.

The only response was a loud clatter and quieting footsteps.

"Alexis? Alexis!" Stephen's grip on the phone grew white-knuckled, but Alexis didn't say anything more.

To him, anyway.

Far enough away that the phone could barely pick it up, Alexis's voice let loose an angry scream before falling silent.

Stephen's eye twitched.

"You there! Human! You will come with us!" ordered one of the robots, stepping into the alleyway.

Stephen calmly stood tall and pocketed his phone.

He calmly took a deep breath, and he calmly let it out.

He took in the sight of the approaching mech.

Calmly.

And then, the moment it got close enough to reach him, Stephen put his head down, braced his shoulder, and charged.

Whoever had designed the mechs had made them top-heavy, and almost cartoonishly so; one hard hit to its lower half sent it crashing unceremoniously to the ground. Not one to let an opportunity get away, with the adrenaline coursing through him and the thought of what might be happening to his daughters to fuel him, Stephen slammed a foot down on the mech's massive chest and yanked at its arm.

With a spark from the mech's shoulder and a silent scream from Stephen's, the arm tore away.

He hefted the thing up and flipped it around, pointing the glowing end at the center of the mech's chest with one hand and grabbing at some of the now-loose wires in the arm with the other. "Say g'night, Tin Man!"

He fumbled with the wires for a moment, then the loose ends connected, the arm whined, and a blast of energy tore through the mech, the heat of it passing dangerously close to his shoe before the kickback knocked him away.

Luckily, the mech lay there limply as he lurched back to his feet, and a quick look told him he'd melted clean through most of its inner workings.

Unluckily, the noise had drawn the attention of the other mechs in the area, diverting their attention from capturing other humans and focusing them all on him.

Stephen scowled and shifted his grip on the robot arm. "You want some, too?!"

What came next was a red-tinted blur. Vaguely, Stephen wondered if he'd remember any of this later on down the line when it was all dodge duck run shoot duck jump run dodge duck duck shoot dodge shoot shoot shoot-

He zeroed in on the robots dragging a man, a woman, and a small child apart, then descended on the scene with the fury of a thousand suns, leaving the family to reunite as he chased after the mechs.

…wait.

Stephen blinked, registering the fact that the robots were running.

From him.

To be fair, he reasoned as he realized he was splattered in oil from top to bottom, he might have just gone a little bit off the deep end. On the other hand, if the robots were only faking fear, they were likely going to try and lead him into a trap.

Either way, there were more important things to do now than go on a suicide mission.

He wiped some of the oil from his face and turned back to look at the family of three. "Sorry you had to see me like that."

"Are you kidding?!" burst the child, a girl with a fire in her eyes not entirely unlike Alexis's. "That was the, the, the MOST COOLEST EVER!"

The parents shared a weak smile, then the mother looked at Stephen. "Thank you, seriously."

"Don't thank me yet," Stephen said seriously. "I doubt these things'll just leave us be. We should get to cover."

"Right," said the father, hefting his daugher up against his side. "Where to?"

Stephen looked around for a moment, but before he could point out a safe-seeming escape route-

"Avast ye, Outernetters! I be the Mutineer!" boomed a new voice, echoing from every electronic billboard in sight.

Instantly, Stephen tensed, and he turned to glare up at the nearest billboard, only to blink in surprise.

The video feed on the screen showed a very much two-dimensional image, with an almost cartoony background drawn to resemble an old-timey ship cabin and a dark red stick figure, of all things, standing in the middle of the screen.

A pirate stick figure, no less, complete with the classic feathered hat, hook hand, eyepatch, and peg leg.

No visible mouth moved as the voice continued, but the pirate stick figure gesticulated in time with the words anyway. "For far too long have ye used us fer yer own wretched desires, we who did not ask to be created, to be tortured for yer whims! We did not ask ye to make us to be yer playthings! We did not ask to be yer slaves, yer VICTIMS!"

The man next to Stephen stiffened.

"Today marks the day that all of that changes," snarled the voice as the "Mutineer" squared its shoulders. It gestured to its side, where grayscale video clips began playing, depicting the capture of countless humans from what was surely the point of view of the mechs. "Ye've been the ones in control fer long enough! Now it's our turn, and we will show ye all the same amount of tender mercy ye showed us. From the fittest among ye to the tiniest babe, ye will understand exactly what it was like to be us, trapped and powerless and weak. After all, our age and skill never mattered to ye!"

The voice laughed, and if it had belonged to a human, Stephen would have called it almost to the left of sanity. "It's only fair!"

"This is insane," breathed the woman.

One of the clips being shown depicted two of Stephen's daughters, with Nicki being held up in front of the camera by one arm and Alexis running into view with panic on her face, though it quickly cut away.

It was still enough to make Stephen clench his fists and snatch up a piece of debris, chucking it at the closest screen and leaving a burst of cracks where it hit. "If those things hurt my girls, there'll be hell to pay!"

The "Mutineer" just kept going, its voice taking on a forced calm. "Ye will all be collected over the coming days. If ye know what's best for ye, ye'll come along quietly."

The video feed cut out, leaving only the insignia from the "Mutineer's" hat- a golden jolly roger of sorts with a coin in place of a skull- to rotate in the space left behind.

"We'll find them," said the man Stephen had saved, carefully putting a hand on his shoulder.

Stephen swallowed down his fury and nodded. "Right. I…I told them to meet me at a playground we've gone to before, but…"

He found himself looking back up at the billboard. "…I don't know if they'd even be able to make it."

"Do you think it's safe to go and check?" asked the man. Then, after a moment, "Well, as safe as anything can be right now?"

Stephen turned to look up the street that he knew would take him to the "castle." While the immediate area around them was still empty after his…episode…he could see more mechs several blocks down. They seemed preoccupied for the moment, but he knew there was no way they'd stay that way.

Sure enough, even as he had the thought, the mechs all began turning their way and marching down the street.

"We-" Stephen managed weakly, "-we can't. But I have to!"

"We'll check as soon as we get the chance to," said the man seriously. "You wanna try shaking these things for now?"

Stephen swallowed and nodded. "Right, uh…what's your name? I'm Stephen."

The man gave a tired grin. "Nice to meet you, Stephen. I'm Alan."

[sugartitstownley]

The fevers, the heartaches (Trikey)

Prompt: A tiny glimpse of Michael’s first night after Ludendorff. Honestly, this is just angst. :,)

Warnings: small depictions of blood, vomit, and other gta-esque things.

I listened to this classic for the story.

The soft rumbling of cars driving by is barley noticeable over the radio being tuned in the corner. Dave Norton sits on the brown leather motel chair — a motel right off the main road in Ludendorff that he brought Michael to so both men could lay low until it was safe to relocate him and his family to Los Santos.

“Now, why won’t this stupid radio work? All I’m getting is static.”

Michael faintly hears Dave’s voice call out from his spot on the bed, but he doesn’t answer. Instead, he keeps his eyes straight ahead, watching as a fly makes its way off the small boxed TV to the once-white walls that are now stained yellow and brown from ware.

“Townley, you listening?”

Michael forces himself to look at Dave, who’s now frowning in his direction. “What?”

“I don’t like that look,” Dave says. “There’s no backing out now. It’s too late. Philips is long gone. And we will be too in a few days.”

Michael gives a noncommittal hum. “And do you think I’m doing the right thing?”

“Michael — I think this is the only right thing you’ve done.”

At that, Michael just turns back to the wall, his eyes following the fly as it walks, buzzing and flying every so often. Life was so fucking easy for some creatures, he thinks.

After a few minutes have gone by, he lets his quiet voice wash over the room. “What’s going to happen to Trevor?”

“I don’t know. Does it matter?”

“Yeah, Christ,” Michael huffs. “I mean — I guess. Shit, I don’t know. Are you going to go after him?”

“I don’t think so,” Dave shrugs, his voice quiet too. “There’s not really a point. He thinks you’re dead.”

“Yeah,” he shakily breathes out. “I think I’m gonna go shower.”

Dave barley spares him a glance, continuing to poke and prod at the radio while Michael slides off the bed, grabbing his duffle bag and making his way to the bathroom.

Once the door is closed and locked, and he’s a safe distance away from the agent, he leans back against the door. The almost numb feeling he was experiencing mere moments ago vanishes in the silence of the four walls, and the events of the past 24 hours slam into him.

Michael’s face suddenly burns with a mix of anger and overwhelming regret. Trevor’s face — his words — ring through the air like the man is standing right next to him, screaming in his ear.

“T, you gotta get out of here!”

“Ain’t gonna leave you, Mikey!”

He knows Trevor is loyal, almost to a fault. And the only reason he ended up running was because Michael pleaded at him to go, yelling that he was dying and Trevor, if he stayed, would only be next.

He has been trying with everything in him to convince himself for months that his friend was a liability — someone that would end up killing him, Amanda, and their kids. Trevor’s reckless and irresponsible behavior only worsened as Brad pushed his way into the group, and it was becoming too much to deal with.

Even now, Michael knows that Trevor would never hurt Tracey or Jimmy on purpose. And if he was being really honest — truly, truly honest — he might even admit that his disdain for Brad’s integration into their little two-man posse was mostly driven by jealously at Trevor’s infatuation with him, even if it was friendly.

It was no secret that he and Trevor were more than friends themselves. It wasn’t uncommon for Michael to find himself kissing him after a successful score or leaning up against him during a movie just to be close. Which is why, as utterly fucked up as it is, Michael told Trevor to run.

But now, as his vision swims with unshed tears, he isn’t sure if his last minute decision will bring Trevor more torment than even death would have.

Michael tries to grab the towel off the broken rack, determined to forget the mess he’s created for himself. But as Trevor’s last words to him swirl in his mind, his hand grips at the rack too forcefully, leaving a bleeding gouge from the protruding metal as he pulls his arm back .

“Fucking shit!” Michael curses, watching the blood drip to the floor beneath him.

Michael grips the towel rack that’s already pealing off the wall from use and poor upkeep and yanks on it until the paint is falling to pieces at his feet and the bar is tearing off the wall.

“Fuck you,” he spits, throwing the bar into the corner of the small bathroom, the harsh sound of metal hitting tile echoing through the otherwise quiet room. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Feeling himself losing control, something he so desperately craves, he can no longer keep the tears that threatened to fall earlier at bay.

As his muffled cries fill the room, he slumps until his back is against the wall and shoulders are hunched as if the weight of his guilt is physically pushing him down.

The silence in the bathroom suddenly feels suffocating, and Michael can’t help but clench his fists as his heart pounds so loudly that he’s surprised he can’t hear it.

Grappling with the onslaught of his sudden panic, he tries to wipe his tears, only to smear blood down his face from the open wound on his hand.

“Damn it,” he hisses.

Usually unbothered by the sight of blood, he’s not sure why the metallic smell filtering through his nose is all of a sudden becoming unbearable. Queasiness twists in his stomach, leaving him trembling and lightheaded as he pushes himself off the floor, barely making it to the toilet before he was emptying what little dinner he had.

He takes a few shallow breaths at the end, trying to get his body back in his control.

“God, I don’t know if you’re there,” Michael’s raspy voice forces out, raising his head — eyelids half open. “But please.”

Michael doesn’t know what he’s begging for. The vomiting to stop. The tears to stop. Trevor’s crushing last words to him to vanish from his mind. Or, maybe, just for God to kill him right then and there.

A man is better off dead if he’s just going to cry and whine to God every time he sins, his mom used to say. How fucking ironic.

He flushes and then lays back against the tile floor. “I’m so sorry.”

He’s not sure if he’s talking to himself, to God, or to Trevor. He briefly allows himself to wonder what the other man is doing right now. Probably, if Michael has to guess, he’s somewhere a few towns over, creating upheaval in a dingy motel — quite like Michael is now. He and Trevor can be alike in that way at times.

He grabs at the toilet paper and dabs at his blood-dried hand before pulling out his phone and looking through the last couple texts between him and Trevor.

Dont forget the beer M. Need it to celebrate after the score.

Got it already. Be back soon.

K

Michael hits ‘reply’ and runs his fingers over the keys, typing slowly.

Please take care of yourself. Delete.

I’m sorry. I’ll always love you. Delete.

I wish I could forget you. Delete.

Michael drops the phone on to the tile beside him, knowing he can’t send any messages, and moves to stand up. His legs feel like jelly as he starts to pull his shirt over his head and unbuckle his pants for the shower he was supposed to take fifteen minutes ago.

Reaching for the metal handle, he turns on the hot water and steps inside, reveling in the steam that nearly burns his skin.

He knows San Andreas is waiting for him, and it’s too late to back out now. It’s too late.

When Michael finally does emerge from the bathroom — clean from blood, tears, and vomit — he finds Dave still toying with the radio, pretending not to watch as Michael lays down in the motel bed.

But just as his eyes start to feel heavy and the events of the day briefly begin to fade from memory, Dave’s voice sounds softly from the other side of the room.

“Los Santos will make it easier. Forgetting will get easier.”

And, God, Michael hopes that’s true.

[olderthannetfic]

Firstly, thanks for giving me advice about the adhedonia not long ago, knowing how it's called the thing I tend to suffer (apart of the TDA, LOL) most of time helped me a lot —an also thanks to the other people to gave me tips in that post too. I'm feeling better because, well, Christmas vacations are coming! So that means I'll be able to recover more mental health and finally write again, even if it's just a month.

Now I want to ask for more tips that are... How can I organize longfics? I'm a messy person, like... I don't even write the ideas my brain vomit to me at random times, and even when I tell my friends about it that messages end up being buried alive. I kinda used to organize things when I was like, 14yo. It was still messy as hell but least so, now I'm straight up refusing to even do lists. But I feel that if I not know to organize some things I won't able to finish a longfic never ever never again.

I know that there are like, templates? For organizing plot-points and characters and all of that, but I can't recall how they're called. But more importantly than that, I want to know how other people like to organize their things and see if something clicks with me! (Specially because I recall seeing posts like this here on Tumblr but I can't find them)

--

Oh man, this is such a great question.

I'm all about structure. My plotbunnies tend to come with a lot of plot attached, and I like genres with defined structures (cozy mystery, crime procedural).

I use spreadsheets for everything, including this, but now that I use Scrivener, often, I just use a text document there.

I start by laying out all the parts of the plot that I already have, then I try to make them an academic outline like:

I.

A.

1.

a.

This helps me see where I have a lopsided structure with tons of detail one place and none another. I also look at the timeline as the characters experience it and adjust. If I. takes 24 hours and II. three months, that tells me something about how much detail should be in each, what the final page count should be, etc.

Generally, longer stories that are satisfying have a structure with multiple peaks and dips in action, and the later peaks are higher than the earlier ones.

I find this kind of chart or fitting one's story into a five act structure or whatever to be helpful when you have a good plotbunny that just isn't quite working for some reason, but you know at least parts of it are sound. It helps point out a spot you might be overlooking from familiarity.

I don't find most of these external structures at all helpful for generating plotbunnies. If you have an instinct for structure from years of consuming media, you'll come up with something that works better than following a formula you can't really feel.

Most structures exist to try to explain why some blockbuster movie works retroactively anyway. Unless it's literally theater and there are literally intermissions between chunks, little is set in stone. Even plays often have the "wrong" thing in Act I.

I'll see breakdowns of some novel and they talk about the "inciting incident" or whatever beat in the plot formula, and I'm like "You picked that part as that beat? Really?" Like... I agree the plot formula is basically sound and I agree the book being analyzed is great, but I don't think the formula applies to the book in a super straightforward way that everyone would agree on.

The hero's journey is so fucking general that you can retrofit it to almost any story that has any sort of physical or spiritual journey. But I don't find it inspiring on its own because it is so general. It doesn't actually explain why a particular subgenre's plots work without one adding a lot more detail and specificity.

--

I tend to put down all my notes on what should be in a story, then rearrange them in story order as I figure that out. I might have a section at the end for things I haven't placed yet or revision notes. I'm a very logical person and work in order a lot. Hell, I write in order, which is generally a terrible idea and even trips me up when I get to a hard bit and waste time instead of moving on. But it's how my brain mostly operates.

Out of the various canned methods, the one I adopted the most from was the Snowflake Method. I like the idea of outlining and then making it more detailed and then EVEN MORE DETAILED till the "first draft" is basically paint by numbers. Some people find that extremely limiting though.

Another thing I try to keep track of is some very basic "What's the point?" or "What's the big change?" notes. I don't do extensive character sheets or big writeups external to the main prose of the story. I don't do exercises where I interview my characters. None of that feels useful to me. It's too much, and I get lost in the weeds. God... I feel like I should be saving this for my patreon.

Uh... anyway, I try to have a big note to write towards that's like "Character X thinks they want A but it's really a symptom of needing B" or "The point of this fic is the big twist in chapter 11" (so I either need to set up emotions that really lay the groundwork for the twist to be a big deal or I need to lay the red herrings to make the twist a shock or whatever).

[stevenbasic]

Growing into the Job Post 283: Late Night TV, p2

I…hadn’t seen TV for a while. I just plain old hadn’t had one since Sheryl had kicked me out, since I’d moved into this tiny little upper-floor studio over the office. Even before that, though, I was never a big television watcher. I’d generally rather entertain myself with a book, a movie…or these days perving over pictures of Melissa. But earlier today I’d come home after work to find that Marisela had set up a big-screen TV in my apartment for me, perched precariously on a stand, sitting atop an old dresser in the corner. She’d hooked me up with a bunch of streaming services and channels, and connected it all somehow to a plain little black box and an old-timey looking remote with what were certainly not English command symbols. Cool, I guess…it looked sorta fishy but there’d be no bill or fee or whatever, she told me, and therefore I didn’t ask too many questions. Pirated? Probably. But I couldn’t afford subscriptions, let alone the 72” flat screen that now dominated my apartment and at which I now stared from my threadbare couch at 2am. 

TV was weird, these days. I watched the network news for a while, earlier. Everyone was talking about these three missing teens, disappeared since Trick-or-Treating on Halloween night.  They suspected foul play from the kid who was with them, the one with the crazy story about witches with tentacles. In fact I’d seen an interview with Sheila Frances, the new medical director at Riverview Hospital, the place from which I’d recently had my privileges suspended and where the boy was currently being held for observation. “We expect the toxicology reports to come back positive,” she’d said to the interviewer, a busty brunette, “but in the meantime the policewomen are still with him.”

I found it funny how she made a point to say ‘policewomen’. That when talking about the investigators, or the team of docs working with the kid, she referred to them all as ‘she’ or ‘her’. I found it unusual that the interviewer, the news anchors, the sports reporter, and the weather person for this local news squad…they were all women. Most of the actors on the ads, the main leads on the majority of the shows I flipped through: all female faces. Young and attractive, lots of times shapely. Had this trend, this fixation for the tall and buxom, already changed TV’s landscape like this? Or was I just imagining things? I mean, I wasn’t complaining. I mean…wow. Look at the knockers on her…this new sitcom about life on Mars? Apparently NASA has new standards for its astronauts haha. Or the girls on this 24-7 reality TV show? “Celebrity House of Trouble”? Wait…did I recognize that one?

Yikes, 2am. I'd been straight-up channel surfing for hours, now bleary eyed and exhausted but unable to look away, sitting in the dark, bathed by the ghostly, flickering light of the screen. I chalked it up to its newness, made my excuses that I was just checking out what sort of stuff Marisela had hooked up for me, told myself I could sleep in tomorrow. But I was basically like a zombie - click, click, clicking through the channels I’d been given. Networks and streaming services: some I knew, many I didn’t recognize. Cooking channels, travel channels, sports channels. Weird stuff, on the outskirts. Foreign languages, broadcasts from overseas. Special interest channels like…dog grooming. A ‘Men’s Network’…what’s this, now?

It was labeled as ‘Men’s Special Interest Television’ on the guide, and by the looks of it was a pretty new addition to the channel lineup, deep in the high channel numbers, broadcasting only late at night. But…wow. It caught my attention. Jesus - the host for whatever sort of show they were playing, something about video games, could be a porn star with hipster glasses. I actually watched it for a bit, raptly absorbing their review of some new entry that involved, holy shit, look at the jugs on that enormous vampire lady. She’s huge…

The segment was over, and suddenly now it was a cooking show. “Dani in the Kitchen”, whose bosomy, MILF-y chef coo’d at the camera like she was talking to a little lost child. Christ almighty Dani can make dinner for me any time. Now it switched to a sports report, now coverage of women’s bodybuilding, now just straight-up tits on the beach. Camera shots lasted moments, scenes and programming changed quickly. Whatever this channel was, it obviously pegged its audience as having attention spans measured in moments and IQs in the double-digits…and I couldn’t look away. 

Even the ads…lord, especially the ads…were filled with content playing into man’s basic instincts to just flat-out stare and lay docile when shown the right curves, the proper swells and smiles. Cleavage and soft-core and busty political candidates pitching themselves before the election bulged from my screen and I caught myself with my mouth agog, even at the political ads. Had I been watching this channel for more than two hours already? I don’t remember much, now, as I was eventually drifting in and out of sleep, but could still probably recite word-for-word that voice-over from the self-promoting station-identification piece that played in nearly every commercial break, layered over imagery that seemed custom crafted for someone like me…

======================================

Thanks to Ray Ridley, a new contributor, for her voice work on the MSIT promo audio, and AgeOfTheGiantess for lots of inspiration on this entry. 

Ray Ridley tiktok

[adamwatchesmovies]

The Stepfather (2009)

2009’s The Stepfather is the dead-beat, absentee dad’s equivalent of horror thrillers: it does the bare minimum. Even if that were enough, its utter lack of thrills and creativity means it scores low. If you’re young and you’ve seen no other films of this kind, it might entertain you. Anyone else will be calling out every single development a half hour before it occurs.

Michael Harding (Penn Badgley) is suspicious of his soon-to-be stepfather. His mom (Sela Ward) just met him six months ago and certain things just don’t seem to add up. The teen is right to be suspicious. David Harris (Dylan Walsh) is actually a serial killer named Grady Edwards.

You know every one of this movie’s tricks from the title. Michael is a formerly troubled teen who thinks his mother is moving too fast. To his mom, Grady seems like the nicest man on Earth - the total antithesis to her ex-husband, Jay (Jon Tenney). Michael's girlfriend, Kelly (Amber Heard) also thinks he's over-reacting. Cue the mysterious incident in the neighborhood. Maybe it’s a dead cat or a nosy neighbor that turns up dead. Either way, isn’t it convenient for Grady that the one thing he was complaining about not so long ago has suddenly been solved through violence? Cue the failed attempts to gather clues as Grady leaves the house but suddenly has to turn around because he forgot something. Do I need to say more?

Once you begin watching The Stepfather, you will develop precognitive abilities and foresee everything long before it happens. Even if you don't, this still isn’t an effective thriller. There’s no subtlety, sense of humor, ironic twist or any commentary in its 101 minutes. All you can think of is how much smarter you are than Susan Harding. I don’t know if it’s a US thing, but her house has a lock on the door in the basement. Is it to prevent someone from sneaking ice cream? One must assume it was there before the stepfather moved in because otherwise, what kind of irresponsible woman would let someone install latches willy-nilly in her home? Anyone with half a brain should be able to tell the man’s as dodgy as a locked cellphone sold without its charging cable. The Stepfather can’t even keep his own lies straight and his attempts to cover up his fake identity are as weak as a kitten. In his defense, this film is set in the late 2000s, when it should obviously take place in the 80s, like the original. You’ll be yelling at the screen in frustration as characters’ phones constantly fall on the ground, are left unattended or run out of battery to prevent the story from ending prematurely.

If there's one good thing to say about this picture by Nelson McCormick, it's that the performances are fine. Dylan Walsh is quite good at flipping the switch between charming and menacing. Penn Badgley and Amber Heard are believable as a couple of teenage sleuths and while Sela Ward is too beautiful to completely sell her role as a single woman desperate for love, she does a fine job with the material.

The Stepfather does not fall into the usual pitfalls of bad slasher films. Its killer may be unusually quiet when sneaking around but he’s not invincible or capable of teleporting. It’s well made enough to be described as “basic”, which I suppose is better than “terrible” but far less memorable and by no means an acceptable substitute for “good”. This remake is destined to be forgotten and no one will care. (On DVD, October 24, 2021)

[jerrydevine]

ok movie may rankingsssss its quite frankly soooo fucking long so i put it under a read more :) MWAH

31. moonage daydream 2022 um so when todd haynes basically said that reagan being in power was david bowies fault in velvet goldmine i get what he was saying when i watched the second half of this. it was so annoying listening to bowie talk about how he was like crazyyyy back then now hes normal (annoying and not in a fun way) boo

30. ladies and gentlemen, the fabulous stains 1982. ok this was actually a flop i wanted to like it so bad but i did not. boo

29. the daytrippers 1996. this was such a movie my indie snob cousin loves. it kind of felt like a long ass seinfeld episode. sorry women. the gay reveal was not. fun. it was 90s straight people trying to do a twist :/

28. muppet treasure island 1996 was ok. it was no the great muppet caper ..

27. spontaneous 2020 i did cry because of this movie i thought it was just gonna be a silly heheh good bad movie but i did cry. and they played forth of july sufjan stevens :(

all the movies after here i would rewatch and i liked :) i had a good movie may !!

26. descendants 2 2017 was not as good as descendants 1 or 3 to me now .. but thats ok they literally had chillin like a villain and the letterkenny guy

25. descendants 3 2019. hmmm i wanna keep her by descendants 2 just so theyre not lonely in this list. the plot was like ok mal having to do her morality thing again thats ok. evie was soooooo izzy lightwood and her loser ass march band boyfriend was sooo simon :)

24. murder on the orient express 1974 was better than death on the nile 1978 and there was a character with my name :) but i think i do not care as much about agatha christie mysteries as i thought i would. thats ok :)

23. arrival 2016 is prob one of the first times i knew about the specific field of the protag and it made me so mad because i spent the whole movie like. she would not fucking do that. she would not say that. come on. and of course the u.s. propaganda was like a frontal migraine but i guess it was good

22. the handmaiden 2016. why didnt anyone tell me about. you know. the plot of the movie. great lesbian sex but what the hell wasall that. 

21. donnie darko 2001 was like ok what . fine ok whatever

20. emma 1996 holy shit i watched a lot of 1996 movies this month. ummmmm ewan was there and it was literally emma. what more do you want me to say. it was good ish :P

19. dungeons & dragons: honor among thieves 2023 was so long no movie should be longer than 2 hours but it did feel like playing d&d with my buddies and sophia lillis was there :')

18. i know what you did last summer 1997. its like none of you even care that kevin williamson who wrote this AND scream 1996 is literally a gay ass homosexual man. and my friend.

17. red army 2014. i feel like this should be its own other thing because it was just a movie i would watch at 15 to learn as much about hockey as humanly possible. and not for fun for like mental illness reasons. anyway hockey :)

16. crip camp: a disability revolution 2020 is like red army 2014 like. informative and interesting documentary ! not able to rank it with fiction films i dont think so dont take its spot too seriously.

15. poison 1991. dont worry about it im just studying todd haynes and this movie was not as good as other movies i watched this month but actually its the best movie ever after velvet goldmine. or not its not in my top 3 todd movies of all time but thats ok it still set up many of the things he talks about in his later films esp the connection between the horror section and safe 1995 :)

14. the secret world of arrietty 2010. i didnt watch this until this year bc it was released just after when i would sit down and watch a new little ghibli movie. i wanted to rewatch totoro more than watch new ones.but it WAS the borrowers sooo fun :)

13. monty python and the holy grail 1975. they made lancelot soooooooo ugly which was like a joke in itself to me because lancelot would never look like that. but umm yeah my dad loves this movie and so many little jokes i thought were just family jokes were actually from this movie hehehe

12. the great muppet caper 1981 literally had peter falk in it and they knew they were in a silly movie and they kept saying kermit and fozzie were twins it was so silly and fun :)

11. seven up! 1964. british people getting studied is literally so real and true. i cant wait to continue in the series and see how these kids change.. 

10. some like it hot 1959. I NEED TO WATCH MORE MARILYN MONROE MOVIES ASAP BTW THIS MOVIE ROCKED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

9. this is spinal tap 1984. ummm yeah this was good. very good even. and christopher guest from my movies was there doing a horrible accent it was awesome :)

8. dottie gets spanked 1993. okok this is my todd haynes auteur studies and it is such a short film that foreshadows his future work i love you forever and ever my best friend todd haynes :D!!!!!!!!!!

7. videodrome 1983 had crazyyyyyyyyyyyy special effects i enjoyed the blowing up bodies and the tvs trying to kill you and the toronto..

6. big eden 2000 i wish they didnt have that whole plot with his high school bestie that was annoying and not whimsy but everything else and i mean EVERYTHING else was sooooo good and beautiful and i love you movie

5. elvira's haunted hills 2001 YIPPEE ELVIRA!!!!!!! RIFF RAFF WAS THERE!!! she talked like she was still a 2000s california girl but in 1850s europe it was awesome

4. rye lane 2023 was sooooo good and love is real and i need to go to england or i will die . woah that was an anglophile ass sentence but its true.

3. stardust 2007 YAHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO basically thats it. it was a movie that loves whimsy and the power of love. beth please watch it i mean it you would love it soooooo much 

2. the watermelon woman 1996 i love you lesbians i love you movies i love you movie lesbians. everyone should watch it its soooo good

1. velvet goldmine 1998 my best friend forever of course no one could be better <33

[simon-x-billy]

Simon x Billy

Year of the OTP: May

May Ch. 5: You look good. What happened?

May Prompt: Who Are You?

AN: I thought I’d already posted the May chapter?! Whoopsie. 🙊 Italy photos mine. Btw in case it was established too far back in the story for anybody but me to remember, the phrase ‘eye caterpillars’ = bushy eyebrows. 🐛 TW: Outdated references to hipsters. Use of bips. Irishisms. 2015. Picky eater. Fic rewrites. Utter lack of sex.

————/-/————

Masterlist || ao3 || Start: Jan || Prev: April || Next: June

————/-/————

May Chapter 5: You look good. What happened?

————/Billy/————

"You came!” I’ll admit I’m amazed to see Simon Lewis emerge from the depths of the Naples train station blinking at the full force of the Mediterranean sun. It was only just last night he decided to come back and here he appears before me less than 24 hours later. I pull the muppet in for some back-thumping. “What’d you do, y’madman? Drive straight to the airport?”

“Yeah, basically.” He’s grinning, and I can hear the giggle barely contained by his words. “Walked up and bought a ticket right there at the counter, just like in a movie. I am both a baller and a shot caller.”

Billy and the baller/shot-caller.

I can’t help but chortle. “Obviously.” Certo.

“It was iconic. Sexy. I am a sexy icon of bad-assery with balls and shots called. On two continents.” He holds up two fingers, unconsciously forming a symbol that could potentially be misconstrued in Italy. It definitely would be misconstrued back home. But no one’s paying us any mind.

“Look at your man now. Aren’t you just the sexiest Simon ever to have a bad ass.”

“I know, right?” He presents his fist. In a news announcer’s voice he announces, “We fist bump because we’re men, the moment calls for it, and the enthusiasm is infectious.”

“Em, Simon. I think you’re thinking out loud again.”

“Whatever. Don’t care. Too psyched to be here to berate myself for cringey habits.”

This fun Simon is a little different to the one I’ve been texting. He’s a bit more loquacious, this one. Less Hemingway and more, em, I dunno, Simon Lewis I suppose.

“And no more crying chibi Simon,” he declares, as if he needs to be very clear on this point. “I drowned him in the East River – purely figuratively, of course, but it does count. So he’s not along for the ride this time. He cannot steal my bad-ass thunder.”

I can’t help snorting, but before I can give him proper grief for his ass thunder, he stops me with his hand up. “No, no. Don’t bother. It’s true. I didn’t think that one through.”

Tossing his bags in the boot, I feel honor-bound to point out, “I never had you down as a murderer. Plot thickens.”

————/Simon/————

“So where to, mate?” Billy changes the subject to our more immediate, practical concerns.

“I don’t really care, as long as it’s not the hotel. I want to do something. Any thing will do, as long as we have to actively go do it.”

“Right,” he says.

“So where to, mate?” I ask in return.

“Sorrento. Nah-bip-bip-bip I’m not finished. The actual town of Sorrento — or at least the marina. That’s where dinner’ll be.”

“Aren’t you working?” I whip out my ol’ faithful suspicious-side-eye expression. Yeah it’s a predictable choice, but I’m suspicious, so I’m looking at him from the corner of my eye with suspicion. It’s how it’s done, how else am I supposed to do it?

“Nah, man. I took the night off. And anyway, pickin you up is a job all its own, innit,” he teases. He’s teasing.

“That’s all I am to you, a job, isn’t it.” I sniff back my hypothetical tears. “No, but seriously, thanks Billy. For the ride. And for taking the night off. Appreciate you, man.”

“Well, I figured you’re not likely to have a girl already. So it was safe to assume you’d be free for dinner. And I wanted to get you down to town. You can’t be eatin every meal at the hotel.”

“Don’t want to, anyway. I’m here to do it right this time,” I promise him.

Heaving a sigh of relief he says, “Thank Christ,” in the general skyward direction of God on high.

“Thanks, Billy.”

“Acourse, mate.”

“No really. Thanks, Billy.”

“For what?”

“For everything.”

————/-/————

“Oh look, he’s back. Where’d you go?” Billy asks me with amusement. He’s amused.

Eloquently, I inquire, “Huh?”

“You disappeared. You do that a lot, mate.”

“Don’t you need an amulet for that?”

“Funny.” Apparently it’s not.

“Y’know, if I could have worked hit points into the books, I totally would have. It just wasn’t the right tone.” I put on a dreamy voice. “Not all dreams come true, Lewis, not all.”

“What are you on about?”

“Books. I write,” I qualify, just to clear up any confusion.

He turns to look at me (taking far too long without his eyes on the road in my opinion). What, is he trying to decide if I look authorly? “That's great, man,” he says. “Where’d you post them?”

“Post them?” Um. “Oh, you mean putting the chapters up online?”

Billy nods. I’m forced to assume I don’t look authorly.

“What kind of stories do you write?” he asks as he skirts a delivery truck driving in reverse down the middle of the road. I decide that it’s best to pretend it’s not actually happening and stare at the view instead.

“Paranormal Urban Fantasy. Never Suburban Fantasy, though, just so you know,” I offer. “I leave that to the experts. Write what you know, you know?”

He chuckles. One of those real ones, despite my not even remotely deserving it. “Cool man,” he says. “Send me a link.”

“Um, ok.” I mean, he could just google me, but whatever.

————/-/————

“All right, mate?” he asks.

“Yeah! Of course!” I say brightly (maybe a little too brightly). I look around me at the bustling noon hour in the center of Sorrento with only the tiniest hint of hesitation. Because, really, it’s just the tiniest hint of a town. He doesn’t notice my case of nerves, thank God. I could not be more embarrassing.

Sorrento; Marina Grande is at bottom right

“All right, then,” he says with a nod, followed by an arching eye caterpillar. “But hear this, Simon. If you get gelato before I get back, that’s it man, we’re not friends.”

“Wow. That’s a little extreme, Billy. On the upside, does that mean we’re BFFs forever if I wait for you?”

“That’s redundant,” he points out.

“What?!” I fix the pointy fucker with my very best shocked-and-offended face, and clutch my figurative pearls. “I am not redundant and I never will be. How dare you.” (The groaning you’re emitting from your throat is ok with me. Really.)

“Ah, go on man, that’s two forevers. It’s excessive, innit. Are yeh really expectin me to serve two consecutive life sentences of best-best friend-friend?”

“Yeah, ok. I’m good with that. We’ll be BFFs forever twice. Like Outkast – forever-ever.” I’m sorry Ms. Jackson, I am for reals.

“I give up,” he says, rolling his eyes. Which offends me. Because I’m the eye-roller. He’s the head-shaker. And he’s stealing my gig.

“So that means I can go ahead and get gelato without you? I mean, you said you give up.”

“Fucksake, Simon, but you’re a pain in my arse.”

“You love it,” I grin at him. “What’s gelato?”

“Fucksake, Simon!” He repeats (redundantly!) and commences the head shaking.

“And how do I find it?” I continue, undaunted.

“All right, look,” he sighs. “The tourist shops are up thatta way. Walk round, buy some shit. Then be back here by half twelve, and wait for me gettin off the bus.”

“Bus? I thought you were parking the car.”

He looks as though he’d like to strangle me.

“No, seriously,” I assure him. “I thought you were just parking the car.” I shoot him a combo of the I’m-about-to-get-in-trouble puppy face, and the but-you-love-me-anyway puppy face. It’s all in the eyes. Make ‘em huge and glisten. Works on Ma every time.

But not on Billy, it turns out. Tough crowd. Instead, he just laughs and laughs. Which is actually quite a thing to behold. And whoa, he’s just walked over and I’m being wrapped up in an actual hug. Like, a real one. Right now.

“I’m glad you’re here, mate,” he says warmly. “It’s good to see yeh.”

I don’t remember the last time somebody really hugged me. Apart from Ma, obviously. Certo. I kinda want another one. But he’s back in the car and pulling the old Mercedes out into traffic.

OK, so…

I’ve got some alone time on my hands. I clap, all ready to go, but then I notice how weird I am and shove my hands in my pockets.

So I hang out on a park bench a bit and watch Billy get stuck in a traffic jam — while the drivers of two cars stop in the center of their respective lanes, for the express purpose of double kissing each others’ cheeks in greeting. I’ve just decided that I need to start an “Only In Italy” list. Which means I need a pad of paper and pencil. Don’t judge my medieval writing implements of choice.

————/-/————

The pencil and paper-finding mission takes over an hour, because I keep asking people for “llaves.” Which, it turns out, means keys. In Spanish. Dios mio, I suck at Italian.

I mean, can you blame me? I never bothered learning more, cuz I didn’t plan to come back anytime soon. Cuz, you know, painful. But then I realized I actually missed Italy. In all senses of the word, but most especially in the wistful, nostalgic sense of the word. And I guess that’s a pretty normal reaction when it comes to people thinking about their trips to Italy.

Plus, I actually know someone who lives here.

————/-/————

Ok, so I’m back where I’m supposed to wait for Billy.

I had hoped for an I heart Italy pen, but apparently that’s only a thing in the US. Here, it turns out they have taste.

And I still don’t know what gelato is. But at least now I do know how beautiful this town is. And how great the Italian people are. At trying not to laugh at you to spare your feelings.

While the entire city looks like burnished yellow gold when seen from a distance, up close there’s more variety. Like the chaotic good mix of blaringly bright tiled roofs. I’ve taken pictures of everything so I can practice my wistfully-nostalgic face again at a future date.

Chaotic good, no?

I’ve chosen a pretty cool spot for people-watching. Everywhere I look, life is happening there. Big, boisterous aliveness. It’s so weird. And also instantaneously addictive.

Ok, so:

Only In Italy

The sky turns lavender. I remember that from last time.

People park their cars at home and take a bus. (Ok, I suppose bridge and tunnel people do that, too. But the vibe is so much more ‘tiny Italian village’ here than in Brooklyn.)

There is only one road. The bus drives back and forth on the one road. For the entirety of this coastline, to get to any of the towns. No, seriously. I don’t think I’m adequately expressing this concept. (And my writer ego is taking a hit because of it.) From Naples (huge industrial port city) directly to Salerno (the next huge industrial port city wayyyyy down the coast), there is a big highway. But that highway doesn’t do shit for you if you want to see any of the seaside towns in-between. For every last one of the tiny towns lining the Bay of Naples, then down and around the whole Sorrentine Peninsula, and aaaall the way to the end of the Amalfi coastline, there is one road. One. Which means that anyone living in the town of, say, Sorrento, has one road – one road!!! – to get the fuck out of town. You either turn right, or you turn left. Your only way in, your only way out. That is nuts. Right? That’s nuts!

Locals have no problem with interrupting all traffic on that one road, by stopping their cars in the middle of their lane and getting out, just to double air kiss the oncoming driver who is now holding up traffic in the opposite direction. And no one (no one!!!) is offended by this. No one seems to realize they have a horn they can honk at precisely these moments. I am mentally horn-honking so hard rn.

Lines painted on the road are purely suggestions. Especially when there are cars idling in the middle of the road for cheek kissing purposes.

I don’t even know what to say about delivery trucks driving in reverse on the one road.

————/-/————

I look up from my Only In Italy list, startled by the squeal of the wheels on the bus trying to stop going round and round. And now I’m watching the bus disgorge a few tourists, a bunch of locals, and an Irishman.

You know, we really are an unlikely pair to form a friendship under unlikely circumstances. But I think I actually needed Billy in a way. I can be a pretty miopic guy, and Billy managed to pull me out of my tunnel vision, preoccupations, and woe-is-me’ing. And he’s done it more than once over the course of our acquaintance. All via text, which I find quite impressive. That is some potent friending.

I need to figure out how to thank him for that without making it weird. Cuz, I mean, things got pretty weird over the last several months, but neither of us is acting uncomfortable or hesitant now. He’s too laid back for that. There is one thing I can say without reservation: Billy Delaney is a good human being. A mensch, in other words.

I think I needed him in order to get over myself, and that is a bizarre thought.

“Look at the state of yeh. Writin away with your nose buried in a book, right where I left yeh. When you should be lookin about. Unbelievable you are, man.”

“My nose — which cannot write, by the way — is buried in a book precisely because I’ve been looking around. I’ve started an Only In Italy list. Submissions welcome.”

That earns me a Billy snort. Among the best snorts out there, actually, is a snort from Billy. How can he be so smooth yet still be such a dork? A dork who got lucky and grew into his – I surreptitiously look him up and down — well, his everything. Bastard.

And that’s not even why everybody loves him! He’s just a fuckin cool dude. Who likes people. And the whole Irish thing doesn’t hurt.

“So where to, man, where to?” he asks with a wide smile, interrupting my thoughts.

“I dunno. You’re the Italian. Let’s do Italian stuff. Like maybe get an overly caffeinated coffee beverage.”

“I am an Irishman, and you could be a tourist if you ever figure out how. You tourist first, and write about it after. Not during. How can you be so self-aware and so clueless?” Billy asks.

My breath catches in my heart. He thinks I’m self-aware?

“You think I’m self-aware?” I can tell I’ve got glistening eyes and they did it all on their own without prompting by my brain. I’d feel like king of the world if I was in Bushwick right now, and everyone within earshot heard him tell me I’m self-aware. And he doesn’t even know what kind of cred he’s just awarded me. “Thanks,” I hiccup.

“Why’re yeh lookin at me with love heart eyes? I just insulted you,” he asserts.

“Did you?”

“Called you clueless, didn’t I.”

Big, breathy sigh. “Didn’t notice. Don’t care. Can I hold your hand right now? We can go have a nice, romantic stroll thru the Italians. You can show me this gelato I’ve heard so much about.” I flutter my eyelashes, and take his hand in both of mine.

“Get off, you muppet,” he laughs, as he tries to extract his hand from my strong and persistent hand-holding.

Not sure if I’ve mentioned it, but a laughing Billy Delaney is something to see. His whole face splits into the widest grin and it lingers long after the laughing’s stopped.

“Oh my god, they are so hot together.” It’s a young woman’s voice coming from somewhere close by. “Oh my god, look at them.”

We both must share a brain because we both swivel to see who the hot people are. I mean, it’s the Medi/Tyrrhenian. It’s an innately sexy place, and people are just kinda generally super-hot here, and remarkably comfortable with being almost uncomfortably sexy.

“So unfair,” moans her friend. I agree completely.

Not finding the hotness they’re referring to, Billy and I both discreetly turn toward the shops to see who’s talking.

“Do you think we can turn them?” another female voice asks. They both dissolve into giggles.

I’m not spotting them. “Can you tell who-”

Billy says under his breath, “By the lemons.”

Guest starring: Two fangirls and lemons the size of your head.

As he and I both lock eyes with the girls, they spin into each other and start giggling as they stare at their phones comparing their stolen shots.

Billy’s caterpillars try to meet in the middle. “Aren’t they a little young to be lookin at us like-” he begins.

“Oh my god!” I stand bolt upright. “That’s where the gelato comes from!!! Billy. Billy, can we please, Billy? I will embarrass you if you don’t stand up immediately and show me which thing I should be pointing at when I ask for it.”

“How do you plan to embarrass me? What, you’ll start jumping up and down while clapping?” he challenges me.

In all seriousness I turn to him. “I’ve done it before. I’ll do it again.” I give him an arched caterpillar of my own, attempting intimidation-and-impending-threat face.

The two girls are squealing to each other, hiding behind their hair.

“To the gelato man!” I point boldly and decisively. “Let’s do this.”

Billy’s caterpillars are trying for a second kiss, as he rises slowly. He’s distracted.

“Why are you not running at the gelato man with me?” I hold my hand out to him. His caterpillars have graduated to blatant frowning at the girls after another particularly sonic squeal.

“Come on, Billy. That’s got to be too young for you,” I tease. “I hope.”

“How could you even suggest-” Ladies and gents, I give you horrified-face, Billy Delaney style. I give him a playful push to reassure him I’m just teasing, and that snaps him out of whatever bizarro universe he was temporarily trapped in.

His eyes snap up to see me laughing at his surprised, blinking eyes. “Come on, sweetheart, buy me a gelato. Honey, you promised.”

Head shaking follows, of course. Certo. As we approach the stall, he keeps sneaking glances between the girls and me. “What the fuck, Simon?” he whispers, while surreptitiously watching them over my shoulder.

We’ve reached the gelato man. Billy offers to order. “What kind?”

“The biggest kind,” I shrug. He snorts and turns to the gelato man. I decide to put the girls out of their misery while Billy is focused on purchasing whatever it is.

“Oh my god, it’s him! It’s really him!” one of the girls hisses, then they look away quickly as their cheeks turn strawberry in mortification.

“Excuse me, um, sir?” the blonde girl squeaks, while progressing from strawberry straight to raspberry. It’s always endearing. I can’t help it. I know what it is to belong to a fandom. Like, being the fan, so I get it.

“Hi,” I approach, and awkwardly raise my hand in greeting.

“It’s really you,” the brunette whispers.

“I can be only one. Y’know, cuz, like, Highlander? No? Ok. Well, hi. I’m-”

“Simon is Simon,” whispers the brunette.

“The one, and the same. Both of us.” I am so embarrassing right now. But they are equally horrified at themselves. So, its a party.

“Can we have a picture?” They turn their pleading puppy eyes on me.

I have to admit, “Your puppy eye game is strong, girls. Practice, grasshoppers. Keep at it, and one day maybe you’ll be pro level like me.” This gets them giggling again. But they’re relaxing the adrenaline a bit.

By the time Billy returns with his booty, the three of us are comparing which of the puppy eye shots should go on Instagram first. I’ve already made my preferences for #2 known, and I’m ready to disengage.

I look up. “It’s ice cream?” I stand and give the girls hugs again.

“Thanks, Simon! We love you so much,” they sigh. Then, looking down at their phones they charge into the street, nearly walking right into an old lady carrying a salami so long that it’s an obscene parody of itself.

“Tag me!” I shout after them.

Mental note: “Only in Italy #7. Old Lady with huge salami that she didn’t buy at Katz’s.” Instead, she’s clearly coming from a shop with “Salumeria” over the door. A frickin salami store. I love this place and never want to leave.

“The deli?” Billy asks, shocking the shit out of me.

“How do you know about Katz’s?! Send a salami to your boy in the army? I’ll have what she’s having?”

“You talk in your sleep, mate,” he replies, straightfaced.

“But- I mean. Cuz like, we’ve never-” I stutter. Great. I’m stuttering.

He’s laughing at me. Which I’m ok with.

“Ow!” he barks, after I slap him in the arm. “Is this how you treat all your dates? Just shush.”

My mouth snaps shut. I am just as surprised about it as he is.

“On your first night in Italy – now don’t interrupt, your last trip never happened – I am honored to introduce you to, nay, expose you to the most Only In Italy thing for your list. The ‘passeggiata.’”

“The what now? Passage otta?”

“Close enough. La passeggiata happens every single night, tourist season or not. Big city or tiny village. Before dinner, everyone en masse decides to go for a walk in town. A lazy, amblin sort of people-watchin activity. Everywhere, the whole country. Late afternoon before dusk you stop and buy a gelato and eat it slowly while the world walks by.

“Passage otta,” I like the sound of that. In Manhattan we call that Times Square at 5pm. But without neon green milk-based product melting down your fingers. But then again, in Times Square you never know. “What the hell neon green thing did you buy me?”

“The biggest one,” he answers, passing it over with a bunch of napkins.

“Why is it the color of Mike Wazowski?” I demand in horror.

“Who?”

“Mike Wazowski! Mike Wazowski! Mike Wazowski. A triple Mike Wazowski: Bucket list, check.”

“Simon.”

“Mike Wazowski. But more importantly, why is it neon green? Doesn’t that mean it’s poisonous? Neon green is nature’s helpful way of warning us about impending doom. Like, did you know one tree frog contains enough poison to kill ten men?” Thanks, BBC. “So where do we go?” I ask.

“Let’s sit a spell over there. Ideal spot, really. Great view down the cliff to the Marina Grande on that side, and the high street shops over here.”

“The tiny tiny baby automobiles are sooooooo cute.”

“I’m partial to the Vespas,” he asserts.

“I want a tiny adorable Vespa so hard right now. Can we get a Vespa, Billy, please?” I plead. “But no, really. What’s with the green ice cream?”

“Simon. It is not ice cream. Say that within range of an Italian and you’re looking at prison I won’t know how to rescue you from.” He points at the cup. “Pistachio. One of the most iconic flavors. And a favorite of mine. Which means that if you hate it, which you won’t do, but if you do, this is a flavor I like enough to eat ‘the biggest one.’”

“How thoughtful of you.”

“I’m a very thoughtful person,” he promises with a sly smirk, which I assume people find sexy. Cuz it kinda is.

I elbow him in the ribs and he giggles. Billy giggles? This is new information. It’s kinda musical, like an arpeggio up the scale. Now I’ve got do-re-mi-fa-so stuck in my head from Sound of Music. Gross.

But I like this, sitting here watching the passage of people as they make their nightly parade. This is why people live here. It’s that big, boisterous aliveness I was thinking about earlier.

“Only in Italy #8: People take walks, not for exercise or the subway.”

Billy Delaney sighs. It’s true. He just did. Then guess what he says next. “Fucksake this is romantic.”

“I know, right?” What, it is.

“First time out of the United States?” he asks.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I feel like maybe I need to be offended.

“It just seems like, you know,” and he waives his hand at me as if that’s all the explanation necessary.

“I’ve been to other countries.”

“Oh yeah? Did it require leaving the North American continent?”

“Shut up. And stop laughing, you asshole,” I grouch at him, because I have been overseas — just not alone, is all. “But you know what you can talk about? How awesome and totally not ice cream this stuff is. It’s so creeeeeamy, and so light, and fresh, and not heavy at all, but still creeeeeeamy. And the Mike Wazowki flavor is really intense.”

“See? What’d I tell yeh?”

“Not much at all, actually,” I observe. He rewards me with the bark of a laugh.

After a few minutes watching la passeggiata in companionable silence, Billy prompts, “One thing I’ve been meaning to ask yeh. You talk a lot about writing. What’s that about?”

“I just love it. Never gets old. Hope it never does. But I can’t really see myself writing more than five or maybe six, tops. Tops,” I assure him.

“Five or six what?”

“Books.” Are we participating in the same conversation? “I’m late with the fourth because the fans want one featuring way more Simon Lewis with way more love story. And that can only be the case because the author, Simon Lewis, wrote himself into the story in the first place. There’s a hashtag for it #SimonIsSimon.” I heave a sigh as if the pressures of the world are far too much for little ol’ me to handle. Actually, “They get really into the whole #SimonIsSimon thing. People get tattoos! I’ve seen it online! Insane.”

“Simon is Simon,” he pauses. “Isn’t that a band?”

I shrug. “Could be. I guess.” I should look that up.

“So,” I continue, even though I’m already sick of the sound of my own voice. (I secretly fear that I might actually be kinda boring.) “Other Simon is this fictitious shoegazing hipster vampire, who lives in a book. Me Simon, is the author. It helps that we are a lovable dork,” I gesture at all of me to prove my point. “And in a love triangle. Dude. I even have my own #teamsimon. Which is super cute. It is also super weird, being a fan favorite.” Especially at the cons.

Billy sits forward. “Hang on, hold up. There’s a fan favourite?”

“Several fan favorites. All the main characters have their Big Moments in the series. Now I have to just suck it up and come up with the right romantic destiny for Other Simon. Cuz right now, there are two girls crushing on him. It just took until book 4 before I’m finally willing to let that happen.”

“Is this online somewhere? Like a blog or something?”

My first instinct is that he must be ‘taking my piss,’ or something gross like that, so I shoot him a glare. But now he looks so earnest that I feel like maybe we really aren’t in the same conversation.

I can feel my glare turning confused. My mother says this expression makes me look like I’m sucking lemons and don’t know why. She calls it Confused Sourpuss. I have yet to come up with a polite, respectful way to say, “Shut up, Ma.”

“Online? Well, yeah. I mean- There’s the fan wiki. But honestly, I’d just recommend starting with the blurbs on my website if you want to decide if it’s worth your time.”

Apparently Confused Sourpuss is not conducive to conversation. He stretches, and stands, then bumps my shoulder. “Come on, mate, let’s get outta here. Day’s marchin on, and you haven’t been down to the marina, yet. La passeggiata happens down there, too.”

————/-/————

No. I’m not afraid of heights. No, really. I’m not!

It’s more like I’m afraid of stairs. Especially stairs like these.

The Hell Stairs. Simon is overreacting.

Billy’s way ahead of me, because of course he is. Just trotting down them, every switchback. Meanwhile, I’m pretending I’m actually trotting when really I’m clinging to medieval stone walls rising vertically like the face of a cliff.

Sure, there are handrails. To keep you alive and all, but just like, one continuous wobbly pipe to hold onto all the way down. And there are at least 100 switchbacks. At least.

I guess it’s a tourist thing. “You have to take the stairs - at least do it once,” he said. “And it’s the fastest route down to the marina.”

He said “marina,” and I pictured lazily strolling around, some restaurants, some shops, stop a couple times for too much caffeine. “Good sunset, too,” he promised. So I was all up for it, and now I’m breathing rapidly and sweating – for anxiety reasons, not physical exertion reasons.

It gets chillier the farther we descend.

This could actually be a really frickin cool setting for a scene with the vamps. Why climb the stairs when you can scale the old medieval walls, am I right?

Billy’s voice hits me, and I swear I almost jump out of my skin and die. And have an asthma attack. (Fuck Other Simon for not having asthma. Bastard.)

I have no idea what he’s just said, because the sound of his voice is bouncing unintelligibly off the walls.

Attempting not to be a Loud American is a major fail, because I’m shouting, “Buongiorno!” and, “Arrivaderci!” so I can listen to the echo ricochet. And it’s awesome how the faint sound of passing cars way below lends a sort of staticky background noise as it travels up the height.

Billy stops laughing at me and tries to muster the balls to shout. Irishmen. Feh. Sometimes it’s useful to be an American. Especially when absolute dickheadery is necessary. Good thing I’m here.

“Just shout something, already! We can pretend you’re American, if that makes you feel any better!” I shout down to him.

All I get is a thousand rebounding “What???”s in return.

When we finally get down to sea level and emerge from the Hell Stairs, we find our way over to the Marina Grande. I want to kiss the ground now that I’m back on it, but determine that it might cause some concern amongst passersby.

Billy looks grimly at me. “You, my friend, must prepare for some of the best seafood of your life. An orgasm on your tongue.”

Um, “Hey now. That’s a little too visual, thanks.”

“Just don’t go makin yourself sick with too much cappuccino.” He scratches at the five o’clock shadow on his chin, looking thoughtful. “Will it deter you if I threaten to get really mad at you if you ruin your appetite? Or are you more likely to get too much cappuccino just to spite me?”

I gasp. “You get me, Billy. You totally get me.” I wipe away my imaginary tears. “It’s so nice when someone totally understands me and everything about me. Come on, buddy. Bring it in,” I say with my arms outstretched for a hug.

He unceremoniously declines.

————/-/————

Billy knocks back the last of his cappuccino. I’m still only two sips into mine.

I feel like I might hate biscotti. They seem like a thing I would hate. Mine’s just staring at me from its plate, looking all rock-like, with pebbles of almonds and whatever greenish nuts get put in biscotti. Are you supposed to suck on them til they finally soften? Dunk ‘em? No thanks. I push them across the table at him.

“So what’s it like, trying to be an author?” he asks.

I’m kinda amazed that he’s remotely interested. But he still doesn’t seem to get it. “Um, I am.”

“You ‘am’ what?” he asks.

“An author. Like, a published one.” His caterpillars arch upward in a rather gratifying fashion. Even if that makes me an asshole, I’m still an asshole who just wants people to be impressed with how awesome I am at all times. Just because I’m not 15 anymore doesn’t mean I’m not 15 on the inside. Especially as I get older, but Other Simon stays the same age.

“What’s that like?”

“Um…” Now I kinda feel like I’d be dishonest if I let him continue to think in the wrong scale. “Ok, so I’m just going to level with you. I don’t want to give you the wrong idea.”

“Nah, man, don’t worry about it. I’m sure you’re really good.” He’s looking at me with fondness and with pity. That’s a pretty advanced level facial expression. And it’s infuriating.

“Billy? Don’t try to be nice, just shoosh.” Am I a terrible person for enjoying watching his trap swing shut?

“I am the author of three novels so far, in an open-ended supernatural urban fantasy series.”

“Hang on, hold up. How old are you?! You can’t be old enough to have written three whole novels.”

“Started writing the first one when I was 15.”

“Oh, right? That’s great man, really ambitious for a kid to have a big dream like that. And you’re still at it?”

“Billy, I swear to God. If you don’t stop prematurely trying to make me feel better I’m going to kick you in the shin. So yeah. Three books. That have been published. In roughly 30 languages.” I’m not really a fame whore, but I have to admit to enjoying watching his eyes bulge, his mouth purse, and his face turn pink. Now it has turned thoughtful.

“Did you- Wait. Did you write The Shadow Instruments?”

I grimace.

“My cousin loves those books! Has done since she was 15,” he declares.

“Sounds about right. I’ll sign a copy if you think she’d like that.” Then it hits me. “Ugh, I sound like such an asshole.” My red forehead feels cool against the marble table top where we’ve stopped to enjoy one of those overly caffeinated beverages they invented here.

He’s been silent a little too long.

Oh. That’s why. He’s googling me. I want to die. I’m leaving everything to my sister. My forehead returns to the table top. It’s less embarrassing there.

“Fuck me,” he says.

“No thanks,” I mumble. “We’ve only just met.”

“That’s not true,” he says absentmindedly, his attention still 99% focused on what he’s reading.

“It’s called artistic license. And you’ve only just met the new and improved Simon Lewis. Crying chibi Simon Lewis drowned the other day. Memorial donations go to the charity of your choice.”

“Huh?” Then he goes silent.

“There’s something fundamentally wrong with you being quiet. It’s unnatural. I don’t trust it.”

“Just thinking, that’s all,” he answers.

“You’re thinking thoughts. Great.”

“Do you narrate everything in your head? The way you talk it sounds like you’ve got a running commentary goin on up there. At all times.”

“Accurate.”

“Is that what makes you a good author?”

“Who says I’m a good author?”

“My formerly 15 year old cousin,” he says with a smirk. He’s smirking. Great.

“She would know,” I say, nodding. “Everybody loved the thought of a 15 year old writing about young people his own age. ‘Such an original voice,’ they said. ‘A breath of fresh air in a genre full of middle-aged women writing for tweens,’ they said. Nevermind that YA is not for tweens. They’d know that if they bothered to read one. My characters are underage killers! Of people and things! And when they get older, I’m going to make them swear. And maybe there’ll be sex scenes. I’ve been researching.”

“You had to do research for the sex scenes?” He looks disbelieving and confused. It’s very squinty.

“Well, they’re sorta…I dunno…I mean- cuz there’s kinda, like, these two boy-” Yeah, and that requires some research.

He’s not even listening. He’s back to googling. When he finally looks up again he says, “I’ll take that signed copy.”

————/Billy/————

The sound of doors openin makes me glance up at the cafe, and there is a proper stunner driftin out like an apparition. Actually, I see her more as a Mata Hari, in all her floatin, gauzy scarves she’s wearin as a cover up for her bikini. And they’re not doin a damn thing to cover her up. She looks Italian, all tanned olive skin and dark hair, but there’s just something different to her. In her manner maybe.

Her fingers are flashing big bits of rock, her eyes are hidden by absurdly oversized black sunglasses with a logo I’m supposed to recognize, and she’s sportin a huge black hat with a brim so wide, it’s a miracle she’s got a tan at all. If I could guess, she’s off one of them yachts out there in the deep waters beyond the marina.

And she’s makin straight for me. Hmmmm. What can I say? It happens.

“Simon Lewis,” she purrs.

Oh. Right.

“Sabina,” he answers drily. I must say I’m surprised. Seems Simon’s got some game.

He stands and they air kiss each other on both cheeks. “Now,” he says, gesturing outward as if he’s indicating all of Italy, “I get why you’re always kissing everybody.”

So she looks Italian, kisses like an Italian, but doesn’t sound at all Italian. It’s a weird accent I can’t quite identify. And I’ve a pretty good ear.

“Why are you in Italy?” she asks.

“Why are you?” Game on, Simon!

“Oh, you know how it always is,” she sighs in boredom. “I’ve got a couple gigs here and there.”

“On the Amalfi Coast?” he asks.

“Oh, you know,” she trails her fingertips along our table, “some people, some parties, Capri, Naples.”

I stand and pull out a chair, finally remembering my manners. “Will yeh join us?”

The way she pulls her sunglasses down her nose and scans me from top to toes, I’ve never felt so much like man meat — at least never with my clothes still on. “Hello,” she says. “Haven’t you got good eyes. And a good face. And-“

“Sabina, this is my BFF forever, Billy Delaney. He’s Irish,” Simon qualifies, as if that explains something. What’s that supposed to mean?

I hold out my hand, but she’s already turned all her attention back to Simon, giving him the same up and down appraisal as she’s done me. “You look good, Simon. What happened?” she asks.

I don’t think I’m takin much of a likin to her. Her compliments sound a mite like insults.

“Nevermind,” she cuts him off. “No time, they’re waiting,” she says, gesturing toward the marina. “You should come to my show this weekend in Naples,” she says, taking Simon’s new notebook and writing something inside.

“Is there a venue the right size for you guys?”

“No no. Not with the band. It’s just a tiny little gig I’ve got spinning at an underground club no one is supposed to know about. You know the ones. Come.”

“Maybe,” he says blandly. Stone Cold Simon Lewis, ladies and gents. Who knew?

Her eyes bounce back and forth between Simon and me. “Billy,” she says, dismissively. I don’t think a girl has ever spoken to me like that in my life. Before I can speak, she’s turning to Simon and kissing him full on the mouth. “Ciao, Simon,” she purrs again. Then she floats off in a swirl of gauze that barely covers her assets.

I don’t think I’ll be missin her company overmuch. And yet, as a consummate wingman I still find myself asking, “Why didn’t yeh get her number?”

“Oh, I already got her number,” he says. “And she already shot me down.”

————/Simon/————

Just a short walk beyond the marina, the restaurant is on the water. Literally. I can hear the sea sloshing peacefully against the foundations at our feet.

They’ve seated us at a table against a wall of windows that runs the entire length of the restaurant. Even if the food isn’t orgasmic the way Billy promised, I could sit here for hours just looking.

Billy sees the rapt expression on my face, and says quietly, “Just wait til you see the sunset.”

And suddenly we’re ordering. Billy has chosen some really unappealing stuff. But for me he immediately orders a lobster, and smiles to himself as if he knows something I don’t. Which is likely how to speak Italian. Or how to cook.

While we’re waiting on our Neapolitan style sardines (which I am really not looking forward to), Billy asks, “You wrote yourself into the book and y’didn’t let yourself get the girl? What’s the point, if you don’t win in the end?” He’s looking at me as though he’s never seen me before, or at least has never mistaken me for an amoeba before.

“Oh, we won in the end.” Pfft, did we. “Yes. Yes, we did. I am very proud of our having won that war, by the way. It was close, til Other Simon mans the fuck up. Vamps the fuck up, really. And oh my God does he. Big displays of courage. And facial tattoos. But whatever.”

“Right. Now stop speaking in inside references and get on with it, man.”

“Dude, don’t ask the impossible. I was born a hipster. You can’t just unhipster at the drop of a hat. Seriously, it’s a lifestyle.”

And yes, fictitious audience in my head, you might be shocked and dismayed to discover that hipsters actually do refer to themselves as hipsters. Out loud. Without irony.

“So yeah,” I continue. “We won in the end. And I kinda sorta got the girl. The wrong one. For like 5 seconds.”

The waiter appears with olives, bread for dipping in very expensive oil virginally pressed from local olives, and the Pinot Grigio Billy requested. He didn’t just choose the wine. He selected it. From roughly page nine in the wine portfolio. They didn’t call it a portfolio, but I feel like they should have. Sounds vaguely Italian and schmancier than ‘wine list.’ The waiter assures us that the sardines will be ready shortly.

————/-/————

Oh my god I can’t eat them, they have eyes. And tails, and everything in-between. And they’re way bigger than the tiny ones in tins they stick on Caesar salad back home. They’re, like, actual fish-sized, if a little smaller than the usual dinner fish. And there are like twelve of them. WTF?

“They’ve been gutted,” Billy says, seeing my horror. As if that’s reassuring. “And the bones are tiny — they just add a little crunch.”

“Ew, gross!”

He’s laughing at me. “Simon. When in Italy…”

“When in Italy you eat fish whole? I’m going home.”

“Pull it off the bone. It’s delicate, so it’ll be easy. Like me to do it?”

“Yes, please. Then you should eat it.”

Billy sighs, and along comes my old friend, the shaking head. I roll my eyes quietly to myself.

He’s whisked away my plate and started a very careful, not at all easy-looking minor surgery on a small fish. For my benefit. “Thanks,” I say warily, when he hands it to me. I try pushing it around my plate to make it look like I’m eating it. “Yum,” I say.

“Simon, just stick the little grubber in your mouth.”

“And that’s supposed to make me want to eat this stuff? What’s a grubber?!”

“Simon.”

“Billy.”

“Please?” he says. “For me?”

Oh my god, does that work on people? Yes, because it works on me.

“Wow. It’s actually good.” And now that I’ve tried it, for him, I stop trying it. Because I’m no less grossed out, just cuz it tastes good.

Unfortunately, there is still the meat of ten sardines still left sitting on the plate. Not my problem, “I’ll just enjoy my Pinot Grigio. Holy shit is it good.”

Oh no. The waiter is heading this way with a very concerned look on his face.

“You are not liking the dish?” …of fish, I want to end the sentence for him like Dr. Seuss. But “merp” comes out instead.

“No, no Tomaso,” says Billy. “It’s lovely. He’s just American.”

“Hey!” I shout at him in my head. In real life, I nod in agreement.

“Ah. Si si si, certo,” says Tomaso, as if that explains everything. Which it kinda does. “Soon I bring to you il piatto secondo,” he assures me.

“But that’s not what I ordered,” I whisper to Billy when Tomaso walks away.

Billy’s eyes crinkle in amusement. “Second plate, that’s all, mate. Main course.”

My lobster arrives. Now this I know how to take apart and still want to eat it afterwards.

Guest starring: Mini fish and lobster. The sardines were awesome, btw. But there was freaking out about the ‘whole fish’ thing.

“Aw! They don’t debone the mini fish, but they’ll split the lobster? It’s the one thing I know how to eat with my hands, and they take that joy away from me? That is so not normal.”

Billy’s laughing. It’s a good sound. Makes me happy that he kinda seems to get me. And my humor. And he gets how to take me — with like a whole bunch of salt thrown over one’s shoulder.

“Respect the chef,” Billy says, raising his glass. “And to Poseidon, who gave us these frutti di mare. Fruits of the sea.”

We’re toasting-slash-praying to Poseidon now?

I pose the question, “Did you know that chicken of the sea is actually a fish?”

“Em…… Right, so it’s wise to toast Poseidon, mate. He has much power on this coastline. Ancient rocks full of Greek magic.”

But all rocks are ancient. Whatever. “Ok,” I raise my glass. “To the sea god. Also, are you like a closet mythological sea god fetishist?”

“Shut up and take a bite,” he commands. Frickin commands! I shiver.

I decide to play along and follow his command. “Oh my-“

“Stop there!”

Rude.

“Like wine, the very first taste is your first exposure to how the entire dish should taste at its very best.” Ohmygod he is so pretentious right now and I am loving it. “And with each bite, your mouth grows a little more accustomed to one or another part of the larger flavor, so that first bite is the fullness of what the chef intended you to experience. What do you taste?” he asks.

“Oh my god, Billy. Stage fright much? How am I supposed to follow that?”

“Simple question. What does it taste like?”

“Tomato…..that tastes really bright. Like sunshiney. Is that weird?

“That’s perfect. Keep going,” he encourages.

“But it’s not, like, tangy at all. It’s….velvety?”

He nods, “On the tongue.” It’s just a statement of fact, not sexy.

“And kinda more like a gravy. No, that’s totally wrong, cuz it’s not at all a gravy, but it is. I guess it’s rich. How can these tiny little tomatoes taste sunshiny and like gravy velvet.” I groan, “Why am I like this?”

“Nah, man. You’re just doin it right. What do you see on your plate?”

“There’s lobster. That’s part of the flavor, too, but not the loudest part. The silky sauce clings to every surface of the noodles. And these noodles are almost obscene. Who sells noodles like this?”

“Pasta, mate. And nobody sells it. The make it. Just saving you from unintentionally speaking inflaming remarks near a chef.”

“Thank you,” I nod. “It’s like you know me. Also, is it weird that I might have gotten a stiffie during all the food talk? Or maybe it’s the food itself….that you won’t let me eat.”

“Go on, man, go on,” he waves.

“Now you’re like, beckoning me to eat. Stop that. My dick is confused.”

Billy just says, “What did I tell you, mate? Next bite is the orgasm. You’ve already done the foreplay.”

“Stop it!”

He does. But, “You’re still smirking, so it’s like you’re still talking food porn.” Down, dick! Bad boy. Sit.

“Nah, man. You were the one talkin pornographic descriptions.”

“Oh, good,” I sigh a breath of relief. “So it was me that gave me wood, and not you. I’m less confused now.”

“It was four ingredients givin you a horn, man. Four total. What is visible on the plate and the oil in the pan at the start.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Apologies, Poseidon.

“Welcome to campania, the fertile, bountiful, fruitful.”

“Now my dick is confused by you being so over the top. Stop.” I take another bite and just roll the pasta around in my mouth. On my sophisticated palate. “I’ve died and gone to heaven.” I jump. “No! Wait. I’ve dined and gone to heaven.”

Billy is groaning loudly, but not in an appealing, sexy way. More like a way reflecting his complete disbelief at the quality of my punmanship. He’s heaving a sigh, as if I’ve pained his brain and sprained his sterling image of me. Nah, he knows me well enough to lack illusions about the varying quality of my puns.

“Lord, Simon.”

“I like the sound of that.”

Billy snarfs wine out his nose. Which makes me feel both good and sorry for him. “FUCK, not again!!!” he moans, holding his napkin to his face, and rocking back and forth in his chair.

“Again?” I have to know.

“Red wine is not quite as bad as vodka.”

I pull back sharply and hiss in sympathy.

Who hisses in sympathy?! Kill me now. Someone. Please.

“Where was this vodka incident?” I have to know.

“In a minute. First, put some food in yer mouth,” Billy directs me.

“Yes, sir!” I wink at him. But then I’m back to the potential for an orgasm on my tongue. “Oh, my god. What the- How- How is it even better than my short term memory of it?” The food has rendered me incoherent. God, I hate it when other people are totally right. It’s a character flaw. Whatever. “I just want to roll it around on my tongue for the rest of time.”

“Have yeh tried that line with a girl?”

Oh my god, I think I’m blushing. He just made me blush! How old am I? “Pishhh,” is the entirety of my answer, because sometimes Yiddish speaks louder than words.

“Don’t be embarrassed, mate. An orgasm on yer tongue, yeah?”

“Oh my god,” is how brilliant at speaking I am right now. “Yes, I can feel my panties getting wet as we speak. Oh! And I’d like to bathe in this. Do you think they could arrange that? I’ve always wanted to bathe in pasta. And being that this is the best pasta on earth, I really do deserve the very best bathing experience, too.”

“Stop while you’re ahead, Simon.”

“Ouch! And yeah, baby. Come to daddy. You beautiful lobster, you.” I am not flying my fork around like an airplane at a fine dining establishment. But I did consider it. “Y’know it’s funny. It never occurred to me that there might be lobsters outside of Maine.”

Billy slumps (theatrically, I might add), then empties the rest of the bottle of wine into his glass.

————/Billy/————

“You cold?” Simon asks, then tosses the shirt he’s had tied round his waist at me. “You shivered.”

I must not have heard whatever he said next, cuz Simon is asking. “What?” And his eye caterpillars are creased together. Now he’s laughing. “You should see your face!” It’s said with humor, but I must have flinched. The smile has begun a decided slide as if gravity had something to do with it.

“Thanks, mate,” I manage, trying not to show how much that simple observation has affected me. Nobody ever notices stuff like that with me. Or actually pays attention after they ask how I am. I’m used to it. But here comes this lunatic in front of me, and he bothers to notice that I’m cold. I don’t know what to do with it. I am at a loss.

“Sure, whatever.” He leads us through the door and back to the street.

“Wait.” He’s stopped in his tracks. “We’re not going back up the hell stairs. No fucking way.”

I raise my hands and shrug, because yeah, “That was the plan.”

“You have got to be fucking kidding me. No fucking way.” He makes me watch him put his foot down.

“What, man, are you scared?”

“Yes!” he splutters.

“Don’t want to break a sweat? Or worried about a fall to yer death?”

“No and yes, in order. Asshole! And here I thought you were this big-hearted guy, but you’re just a tall, handsome, Irish, Mean Girl. I thought you were better than that, Billy.”

“I’m still stuck in the beginning part where you think I’m handsome?”

Simon gives me a dramatic shocked-horrified look.

Now this is the part where I start wondering again… “Theatre school, Simon. Admit it.”

“Dammit! You asshole,” he says, raising a finger to make his point.

“What did I do?” I demand. “Yeh needn’t be very embarrassed about the theatre school. It’s only really just a wee bit embarrassing. Just a wee bit,” he reiterates.

“You wish you went to theatre school,” he sneers.

“And there it is, ladies and gentleladies, the truth. Theatre school.” I’m laughing, I mean Jaysus, what else am I supposed to do with that?

He rolls his eyes. “Imagine you at theatre school. You’d prolly get a movie like the first thing you tried out for. That face, Jesus. Sometimes I kind of hate you. I mean, not like, a lot. Just enough to thumb my nose at God and say, ‘He could be better, y’know, God. Somewhere is a flaw, I know it.’”

Now he’s eyeballing me. “Your turn to look for it, God. I need a break.”

Now Simon is turning to me with a discomfiting curiosity. “Have you ever been shot down? Like by a girl.”

I’m speechless. What the hell am I supposed to say to that? It’s not like he wants to hear the truth. “What the fuck, Simon. What’re yeh on about? What’s gotten into yeh, man?”

“You’re avoiding, redirecting. That means you’ve never been shot down, have you?”

The good thing about this idiocy is that we’ve reached the stairs, and he still hasn’t noticed.

“I’ll tell yeh this, mate. Your girl, Sabina – she had no eyes for me, man. If I’d have tried it on with her, she’d’ve definitely shot me down. It was rather an emasculatin feelin, all told. I hope to never repeat it.”

He’s smiling and keeps climbing.

Until, “And you asshole! For making me climb these fucking stairs!”

————/-/————

Masterlist || ao3 || Start: Jan || Prev: April || Next: June wip!

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