#he had some pretty fucking salient points

[whyndancer]

He did make the senator into a mutant (and it was the senator that turned into goo). Magneto did that much by himself and realized that doing more would likely kill him. He kidnapped Rogue so that he could use her for a vehicle for his power to run the mutant making machine so he didn't have to risk his own life. The device he had Rogue hooked up to was in the Statue of Liberty which was in range of a Summit of world leaders, and his plan was to turn them all into mutants at once, regardless of their individual beliefs or politics. As it was a Big Function, you know damn well there were people there who were just doing their jobs too. Y'know, like janitors, or caterers or other service workers who had absolutely nothing to do with the politics of it. The point was that Magneto didn't care who got hurt by his plans. He wanted his grand revolution.

[cobragardens]

The 3 Falls of Anthony J Crowley

So far, Crowley has told three different stories to three different audiences about why he Fell, and there's some important information that can be inferred from them. Let's get nerdy.

(Nb. C. 25% of this is from a previous post I made about Crowley's memory problems.)

Here's Crowley's 1st story (gifs courtesy of Fuck Yeah Good Omens), in 1867:

In Book Omens this line is narration about Crowley, and means that Crowley didn't embrace evil and side with Hell so much as he just wasn't into the whole Heaven shindig.

In Show Omens, this phrase becomes a little more fraught, because Crowley says it about himself, and he says it to Aziraphale.

Aziraphale has just disagreed with Crowley's assertion that the two of them have a lot in common. Az thinks Crowley means their origins as angels, and demurs, "I don't know. We may have both started off as angels, but you are fallen."

But what Crowley means, as we find out in pretty much every other scene the two of them share in S1 and S2, is that that he and Aziraphale have a lot in common now, in their current positions. He wants Aziraphale to see him as a friend--and to be his friend--so he elides the difference his Fallenness makes to Aziraphale, all "Ehhh, it wasn't really a fall kind of Fall, it wasn't that bad."

Also, given the conversation they have in the Final Fifteen, I feel like his phrasing is kind of important here, because falling is not voluntary, but sauntering is. In saying this Crowley is claiming that to some degree he chose to reject Heaven.

It's entirely possible that Crowley may have been lying to Aziraphale in 1867--he is, as he says, a demon, and he's lied to him before to make something bad seem less bad--but maybe not. Remember what the Metatron says about Crowley:

And this is another interesting point: The Metatron knew Crowley as an angel. The Metatron. The being who, after shepherding Aziraphale out of the bookshop, turned back and looked at Crowley with hate.

(And tense music playing, in case you weren't sure.)

So maybe that's it. Maybe Crowley just chose to be on his own side.

But in 2019, and addressing God, Crowley's story of his Fall is slightly different:

I think we can take this as Crowley's sincere belief. It's unlikely that he would lie when speaking to God, because that is Aziraphale's job because he doesn't have any reason to do so: God hasn't been listening to Crowley for 6,000 years at this point, and if She were listening, lying would not work. So Crowley probably believes he's telling the truth here with this story: Crowley believes one reason he Fell is that he asked questions.

But is he right?

Another line from the Metatron:

The Metatron seems to speak of Crowley's habit of asking questions as though he finds it obnoxious rather than damning, so maybe the questions weren't the problem. Then again we know that the Metatron is a lying piece of shit and an authoritarian who doesn't want his regime questioned, willing to erase memories and destroy lives to cover up the 'institutional problem' that Heaven doesn't know what the Plan is and is run by a handful of warmongers who want everyone dead or indentured.

Either way, this is the third time in the series someone has talked about the problem of Crowley asking questions, so my guess is his questions were probably a salient feature of his Fall.

Onward!

Before we look at the 3rd story, remember that we have strong evidence now that Crowley has had his memories erased by Heaven.

But we also know Furfur, another demon, still has his memories. Inference: Heaven don't erase the memories of every angel who Falls. This suggests that Heaven erased Crowley's memories because he had knowledge in those memories Heaven didn't want him to have anymore.

This may not be specific knowledge. We know Crowley has a high security clearance in Heaven and therefore must have been a high-ranking angel, and we know he created a nebula with Saraqael, so presumably there was a lot of stuff in his head Heaven wanted stripped out.

But I think there was something specific, and here's why. Firstly, there's no reason to assume that importance in Heaven is a guarantee of importance in Hell. Furfur could have been a high-ranking angel too before ending up an admin in Hell. (Hell does not seem to be any more of a meritocracy than Heaven does.)

Secondly, it's clear that Crowley doesn't know his memories have been erased. If he knew, then when Furfur says "We were in the same Legion? Just before the Fall? Doing dubious battle on the Plains of Heaven? Remember?" he'd say something like "Don't be stupid, of course I don't remember, Heaven erased my memories."

Instead he says,

Now, maybe Crowley is just being a dick here. Certainly we're supposed to take it that way until he goes up to Heaven with Muriel and doesn't remember Saraqael either.

But what if he's being truthful? If Crowley is being honest (and a dick), that would mean the Fash didn't erase all of Crowley's memories of his time in Heaven. We know this because Furfur says he and Crowley fought together "on the Plains of Heaven," and "just before the Fall" [emphasis added].

This suggests that Maybe Heaven didn't erase time from Crowley's memory. Maybe they erased people.

Okay, now here's Crowley's 3rd story about how he Fell:

It's a cute line, but what if it's not just a throwaway joke referencing what people say about kids who go down the wrong path and become criminals?

Crowley mutters this 3rd story to himself, so we can be confident Crowley believes this to be true. But Crowley doesn't know who the wrong people are. He doesn't know whose company got him thrown out of Heaven, because his memories of all those people have been taken from him.

And taken together, these three stories and Crowley's stolen memories suggest a bigger, more disturbing inference: Crowley doesn't know why he Fell. (Or sauntered vaguely downwards.)

Like Crowley, Job was once a favorite of God. But he has fallen out of that favor and been delivered to demons for reasons God refuses to tell him.

We the audience are meant to draw a parallel between Job and Crowley. We know this not just because of the speech Crowley cathartically gives Job's goats, in which everything he says to the goats can be just as easily applied to Job or himself, but from two other indications. Here's one:

Job is wearing Crowley's color.

The other is the minisode title, "A Companion to Owls." This phrase comes from the Book of Job, specifically Job 30:29. Job, lamenting what has happened to him, says,

 I am a brother to dragons, and a companion to owls.

In Biblical symbolism, dragon=serpent=snake=demon. And in some Mesopotamian beliefs--one of them Judaism--owls were associated with demons as well:

and

and

So the Job of the Bible is saying in this verse the same thing the Job of Good Omens says: God has forsaken me and delivered me to demons. Or even: God has forsaken me and I am now being treated like demons are treated.

And he's also saying something else. In the Bible, owls symbolize loneliness, desolation, and solitude. They're consistently depicted as living in barren, abandoned, isolated places. Seriously. Go search owl(s) in a Biblical concordance and read all 30 entries: it comes up a lot. If you're a companion to owls, you're alone (except for the owls) in the wilderness. You're forsaken.

WHOMST do we know whose signal color is yellow, who's a brother of demons, and who admits at the end of the episode that being alone and forsaken in the wilderness is lonely?

So. Job, a character whose claim to fame is that God punished him and he didn't know why, is a mirror character to Crowley. This on its own isn't enough to say definitely that Crowley doesn't know why he Fell, but combined with the three different stories he tells about his Fall, I think there's enough textual evidence to conclude that Crowley isn't entirely sure why he fell; he only has educated guesses. Either he knew and the memory was erased, or he was never told at all.

My question about Crowley's Fall is this: Who pushed him?

Was Crowley's Fall an act of God Herself, or was it an act of Heaven? What did the fucking Metatron have to do with it? What was Crowley's crime? When Aziraphale takes charge of Heaven and the Second Coming, will he read Crowley's file?

[cakemoney]

mismag thoughts under the cut cause this got personal in a weird way lol

been chewing on k and evan's argument all day because i know that the entire point of how they played it is that both k and evan are right and wrong and they both have points but the situation is complicated and they're young and have difficulty expressing themselves et cetera, but there's stuff i need to unpack before i can come at it with (at least less of) my personal bias. because the way k said "you can only take care of somebody for so long" brought up something old and just. who asked you to take care of me? who asked you to form a one-sided relationship with someone whom you perceived as broken? do you think that i want this? do you think i want to have a friend look at me with pity, as though i'm lesser? don't you think i already know exactly what i am? don't you think i'm already doing exactly what i can? if it pains you to look at me, then look away! if being my friend is too much, then leave!

but obviously, that's not what k said. (also obviously not what the real life person said.) what k said (tried to say) was: it's hard to be around someone who doesn't believe you when you express love; by refusing to value yourself, you're also refusing to value the judgment and thought and feeling of people who value you, by dismissing yourself and your own needs as insignificant you're belittling people who care about those things, and being friends with or being in a relationship with someone who keeps pushing you back and throwing your care away is incredibly draining. this doesn't make it right for her to overlook his dismissal of a poorly healed arm as a concern, but it represents a pattern that k has difficulty navigating. she wants to care, and evan keeps downplaying that care, and that makes her want to prove her care all the more because evan is important to her!

at the same time, evan's not wrong for feeling betrayed by the way k treated/treats him. these kelmpisms that come from surviving the life that he lived, that are a part of who he was no matter how much he didn't like them, went from being sexy and cool to Problems that k thinks should be fixed, but his entire life of trauma and isolation doesn't disappear just because he's dating k or just because k is no longer horny about it. evan is evan, and the way he struggles with normalcy and self worth was always going to be a long process, and it's very invalidating to hear someone say that this got old. imagine how old it feels for evan, who's been living this way his entire life.

the argument becomes about the broken magic, because them breaking up and magic being broken probably happened pretty close in time, and it sounds like they've had this disagreement before, like it had become the surrogate for discussing their own relationship to each other. evan's saying, clumsily: i told you these things, and you didn't trust me or believe me, and i'm upset by that because these issues and their consequences are things i lived through and continue to live through. k's saying, but failing to say: i know that you're making very salient points and that you already have a methodology in mind that makes sense to you, but you're asking me to sit back and do nothing, and i can't accept that; i can't accept not helping, because i care about the people this affects. in some ways, both of them are just stubborn; they just actually have different points of view, and maybe this wouldn't be a fight if they hadn't also tangled it with their straining relationship. why don't you trust me to help? why don't you trust me to handle it? why don't you trust that i have something to contribute? why don't you trust that i am doing my best?

neither of them necessarily distrust the other; they just don't trust themselves enough to let go and let someone else take the wheel, because they both think they've already fucked something up, maybe beyond repair, maybe forever. when you already doubt yourself, any sign of disapproval from someone you like and care about and respect and admire so much can feel so fatal

[wildbluesorbit]

London - Teaser || JTK

LONDON - FULL

HAPPY THANKSGIVING !!!

Paring: angry!Jakexreader(f)

Content Warnings || alcohol consumption, swearing, adult themes

Word Count || 350

Jake made you feel stupid yet again, but there is no way you are going to let this night go to waste.

You throw your most alluring eyes and innocent smile at the stranger and wave him over. He returns the greeting and calls some indiscernible phrases out to the bartender before receiving three drinks and walking over to your table.

He is tall, dark, and handsome. The complete opposite of Jake. A promise of great distraction.

He sets the three drinks down at your table and proceeds to introduce himself as Hunter through a seeming painfully giant smile.

You can’t help but compare it to your favorite pretty and childlike grin always graced upon Jake features, a treasure you ache for.

You mentally berate yourself for still thinking about a guy who is obviously not thinking about you when Hunter clutches your hand, ripping you from your dissociation.

He points towards the middle of the flat where you see multiple people frolicking about, “Do you want to dance?”

Why the hell not? You throw back the rest of your drink and smirk wide in response as you feel yourself being towed to the make-shift dance floor.

You feel the alcohol rid you of your inhibitions, most likely against your better judgment, but at this moment you can’t seem to grasp any care even if you tried.

You grind and tangle yourself up with this man you hardly know. He seems into it and you are blissfully swept away from your afflictions, a win-win. So what is the harm?

As soon as the thought has come and gone, you feel it; an overwhelming perilous sensation of being surveilled. You turn your attention over to where you had left Claire at your table to see her deeply engaged in conversation with Josh.

Fuck. Where there is a Josh there is most certainly a Jake.

You whirl towards the flat’s bar to lock eyes with the source of the sinister stare; an infuriated Jake leaning against the countertop, arms crossed. He holds your gaping stare with a blistering nostril-flared one of his own, licking over his salient bottom lip into that bewitching pout and clenching his jaw.

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@alwaysonthemend @becinabubblegvf @carbondancingthroughtime @fleet-of-fiction @gretasfallingsky @gretasmokerising @gvf23 @hsfallingsky @imleavingyoufornewyork @itsafullmoon @jakesguitarsolo @jakesmustache @livkiszka @lyndz2names @mindastreamofcolours @nina-23-45 @sacredjake @sparrowofthedawnsworld @takenbythemadness @thewritingbeforesunrise @tommie-gvf @tripthelightfatality @wetkleenex-gvf @zoe-tally06

pretty please let me know if you’d like to be added<3

[powderblueblood]

powder my love would u ever bless us with a hai universe cass finnigan bonus episode bc i’m an eddie-took-her-anal-virginity truther until i die and lord what i wouldn’t give to see that written in ur spectacular way…call it morbid fascination and also and as well additionally: me being a dirty fucking whore

sweets baby i've got good news and i've got bad news, eddie unfortunately did nort take cass's anal virginity (she and mikey b have been backdooring for quite some time now) but there were certain... differences that cass wasn't quite prepared for! minors dni as always fuck off, warnings for smut (anal, premature ejaculation), cass being an asshole no pun intended (but i believe she felt mad guilty after this), embarrassing sexual situations (cumming early is nothing to be ashamed of, but consider who we're dealing with), eddie feeling shitty :( part of the hellfire & ice universe

HAWKINS, INDIANA. AUGUST 1984-ISH, SOMETHING LIKE THAT

Cass Finnigan is having a weird year.

It's what she keeps saying, mostly because it's what people keep telling her-- because that's kind of Cass's bag. She listens to what people tell her with a keen ear and an open heart and not very much consideration for the consequences. She takes direction very well, according to her drama teacher and her choir director and her friend Lacy and, most importantly, her boyfriend Mikey B.

So, when Mikey B said they should take a break, she said, okay! And when her parents said they were getting a divorce, she was like, if you think that's for the best! And when her church elders told her that her parents' divorce would be seen as a blight in their otherwise idyllic Christian household, she agreed because He does know better than we do! And when Lacy said she should maybe think about hooking up with other people, on the level this time, not as a drunken extracurricular, Cass said, you are so right.

"Just for the... fourth or fifth time, are you absolutely, positively sure about this?"

That's pretty much how Cass ends up ass up in the back of Eddie Munson's van on a rainy Tuesday afternoon.

Shifting her hips back, she scoffs. It's a high, tufted sound because Cass is a high, tufted kind of girl. Definitely high right now, anyway.

"Munson. Are you seriously asking me to second guess you putting your dick in my butt?"

"Salient point. Roger that. Sorry. Just... tryin' not to be... like, a d-- a dick." Unimaginative choice of words for him. "Sorry."

Fuck Cass Finnigan's weird year. Eddie Munson is having a weird freakish immediate right now.

There he balances, floor of the van digging ridges into his kneecaps through the holes in his denim jeans. Said jeans are slung past his narrow hips, along with his boxers, the worn elastic of the waistband tucked pretty snug under his balls.

Eddie's holding his dick with consideration. Like he's about to give the little (hah!) man a pep talk.

Don't fuck this up for me, okay? When we get in there, fucking pace it out, alright? I'm serious, man. It might feel like you want to geyser out the second we squeeze on in--oh god--but be cool, okay?

Forty minutes ago, he'd met Cass in a clearing near the usual pick-up spot, one big enough that he could haul the van into. Eddie usually hated being near the orbit of Hawkins High during summer vacation--something about a work life balance--but then work comes calling and, y'know, it's kind of the most inconspicuous place in town.

Cass'd been nervous; Eddie noticed that, out of the rotating faces of that particular friend group, she'd never been saddled with the task of picking up for them before. Well, she and that Lacy chick, but Eddie had reason enough to believe she wouldn't be caught dead.

"Uh, you wanna hop in a sec?" Eddie'd hesitated, regarding the raindrops bouncing off Cass in her pink plastic parka, "It's really comin' down out there."

"Sure. Just for a sec."

Cass was twitchy, but keen. She and her big eggshell blue eyes darted around the back of his van, probably noting every flaw in the interior so she could report back to her clique later.

But then she sat all criss-cross applesauce and was like, "How's your summer vacation going?" Delivered in the clipped monotone of someone just making small talk, but delivered all the same.

They swapped a couple of same Hawkins, different day type sentiments, and stilted as it was, it wasn't entirely terrible.

Inexplicably, it made Eddie be all, "Would the lady care for a sample?" like he's a fucking weed sommelier.

Which, in a manner of speaking and if the manner is ditch weed, he kind of is.

Twenty minutes in, and Cass was already feeling it. Her blue eyes were closing into a squint and that squint kept studying him. Rolling him over in her gaze, kinda like he was one of those optical illusions she couldn't quite figure out.

Eddie, despite himself (or so he'd like to think), felt heat rising in his cheeks. Something about this had an encroaching sense of familiarity.

"What?" he mumbled, ashing the joint into an empty soda can.

Cass leaned back, heels of her palms supporting her and pushing her chest out just so. "You think I'm pretty, don't you?"

Admittedly, that kinda put a hitch in the spell she was attempting to cast. Jesus, these sweater monkeys and their indefatigable egos. Eddie's eyes involuntarily rolled. "No. I think you're a dog. The blonde hair and the perky tits do nothing for me, honestly. Soft as a monk."

Now, here would be an opportunity to volley back, to fold humor into one's foreplay like cheese into an omelette but Cass E. Finnigan, god bless her (and she is blessed), does not have her eye on Eddie's preferred ball.

"Yah, but you think I'm pretty like, you wanna..."

But he is still, fallibly, a guy edging toward kinda stoned and pliable.

"I wanna..."

And she is still, fallibly, a very hot, slightly stoned, inattentive girl.

"You wanna fuck me."

And instead of a gaze, it was more like a glaze, like a well-practiced Skinemax impression that Cass had whipped out as a party piece. She removed her pink plastic parka with unnecessarily seductive precision, and through the haze, it had occurred to Eddie that he hasn't ever really entered Cass Finnigan in his rogue's gallery of jerk-off material.

Maybe that was an oversight.

Because now, in this moment, in this ticking time bomb of a second, he's staring, like, right down the barrel of her asshole.

Dick in hand.

Eddie's hard, of course, even though he kind of feels like he shouldn't be? Not in a forbidden way that would usually get his blood thumping, hard in a way that kind of feels like an imposition. Like, there should have been more lead up to this. Like, Cass should have kissed him. Or he her. Or something.

I mean, she didn't even turn around to look at his dick. It's kinda rude.

She, right out of Penthouse Forum, just sort of flipped her skirt and shimmied her underwear and leaned forward and presented herself and demanded he get his cock out and then she was starting to sing his tune but now he's just staring at her. The back of her. Poised and peaches and cream and perfect, sure, but not for him, it doesn't feel like.

Eddie's an ill-chosen accessory here. An awkwardly misplaced lamp in a room that, yeah, apparently can benefit from a lamp. But not this lamp.

Cass's asshole is very pretty, though. Her pussy, too, from what he can see. Pink and petal-y in a way he'd never seen up close in person before. (The thing with Nicole Summers humping him on a log in out by Forest Hills a couple years back hadn't exactly been an all-you-can-eat-with-your-eyes kind of affair.) Looking at it long enough makes his tip and mouth water a touch, and looking at it too long makes Cass be all, "Are you, like, okay back there?"

Eddie opens his mouth to answer but is swiftly cut off by Cass chirping, "Oops! Oh duh, you're probably like, what is she thinking--"

Fascinatingly, without even changing position, she digs around in her fuzzy little backpack and tosses a tube of KY Jelly over her shoulder. Right. Right.

Eddie squeezes out what he considers a decent amount after whacking that tube against his palm a couple times. It comes out with a flatulent puff of air. Cass has really gone through this stuff. If Eddie were a more primitive man, he might be inclined to slap Mikey B on the back and/or ass the next time he sees him.

"Not your first rodeo, huh?" he mumbles, breath uneven, smoothing the jelly over the length of himself. His eyes flutter closed under his own touch, ceasing the rhumba of Cass Finnigan wants you to fuck her in the ass Cass Finnigan wants you to fuck her in the ass Cass Finnigan wants you to fuck her in the ass for all of a half second.

"Whut?" Cass caws.

"Nothin'. Um..." Eddie's got one ambitiously lubed up hand all of a sudden. Overshot that mark. First of many. "...can--" Jesus Christ. How to sexify this deeply unsexy yet sexy situation. "--can I touch you?"

"Um, yah."

Um, okehhh, he mockingly mirrors her faux-Valley Girl accent back to himself. See, blue sky situation, Eddie would say that back to Cass and she's think he's funny, and they'd laugh together and it'd be hot but the thing about girls like Cass is they have no sense of humor about themsel--fuck, his jellied thumb feels nice sinking into her little butthole.

"Is that," fuck his stupid fucking trembling fucking voice, "does that feel okay?"

"I can't even really, like, feel it-- oh my god, that's not your dick, is it?!" Cass, in all goddamn sincerity, starts to turn around, face all hitched in a grimace that Eddie can't stand.

"No, it's not," he says, through gritted teeth, hand extracting from her ass and resting on her cheek. "It's not my fucking dick. I thought you might need-- or want, I dunno--"

"Does it usually take this long with you? Like, guys don't usually take this long to just stick it in. You know that, right?"

Mouth gaping, Eddie feels something shrink inside him. He can't tell whether it's his ego or his faith in the Hawkins male populace (not that he had much to begin with), but he's learning more and more about the kind of world Cass Finnigan orbits in as the seconds tick by.

Kinda sad, he thinks, angling himself against her ass, kinda sucks that ol' JC or MB or whoever only lets her use the back door--

A jolt smites clean through Eddie as his leaking pink tip touches Cass's puckered pink hollow. "Hnn. Mm."

Eddie pushes just a little, mouth popping back open. He feels Cass tense from the extremely tentative, extremely light grip he's got on her hip. Again, he is like full Jekyll and Hyding in the way that he feels like he's intruding on his own sexual encounter yet completely turgid from tip to taint.

It's so weird. That joint wasn't laced with anything, was it?

"You okay?" he asks, voice a squeak of urgency.

"Yh--yah," Cass says, but there's hesitance. Like she's almost about to ask him if he's okay too.

"Mind if I--" Mind if fucking I?! What am I even fucking saying? Shit, God, please, anybody, please let her say--

"Yah, sure."

Not the begging or panting he hand in mind for his first time back here, but it'll do. Eddie, slowly, ever so carefully does it, eases himself a couple more mannerly millimeters into the confines of Cass's ass--and not to suck his own dick, but this is gonna be a tight squeeze, if it'll squeeze at all. If it'll squeeze at all, oh fuck, oh please...

With a high, sharpish gasp, Cass seems to register that fact as well.

"Holy shit."

Blonde locks go flying over her shoulder as she finally tries to angle back and get a look at that certain member of the party that was of no interest to her fifteen minutes ago. How the tables fucking turn! In doing so, she accidentally thrusts back a touch, edging the reddened tip of Eddie's cock further in--

"Shit, shit, shitshitshit!" Barely an inch inside, Eddie feels his balls constrict and his back seize.

Cass snickers in a out-of-body, near ironic kind of way before winding out some direct-to-TV type whimper that someone somewhere on some planet must find attractive. Mikey B, possibly. It sounds flat to Eddie.

If she's making fun of him (she is), he isn't in the room to hear it.

All Eddie can focus on right now is sensation. The fact that if Cass moves even the tiniest iota--

"Y'know, you can like, slap me a little or something. If you w--"

"No, I-I don't-- fuck, just-- please don't fuckin' move, please don't fuckin'--"

Too goddamn late! Cass, with whatever curious shifting she's managed to do, has Eddie's throbbing, space hopping over eager bastard of a cock popping out of her asshole. The grip Eddie has on himself does no good to stem what's coming, badum-tss. With a groan, a gasp and a shudder, a pull like an anchor aweigh from the base of his belly, Eddie spills in a few hot thick ropes.

He feels a drop or two of sweat drip from the nape of his neck as he watches his hot, white, premature cum roll in a rivulet over Cass's lower back. Oh... no.

"Um."

"I am so," Eddie hasn't even got a chance to re-regulate his breath yet, and he's feeling around him for a napkin or an old t-shirt or a flunked essay, something, "so sorry, I--"

"Ew," Cass sits up, holding her skirt aloft and batting away Eddie's pleading offer of a gym sock. Which, fair enough, ew, but it makes Eddie recoil a touch. He watches as she cleans herself up with a wet wipe she grabs from that weird little monster of a backpack purse type thing she carries.

Eddie sinks back to sit on his heels, wiping himself off with the stupid old gym sock and tucking himself away. A sourness has started to sting in his gut, that post-nut clarity hitting all the harsher thanks to Cass's tiny daggered glances at him.

He's really never not gonna be an object of disgust to someone like her, is he? He can't even breach guilty pleasure status.

"So stupid," she's muttering, readjusting her underwear and smoothing out her skirt, "Last time I ever listen to that uppity bitch..."

He's just a dare bored girls give themselves on rainy August afternoons.

"We could-- if you wanted, just gimme a sec and I--" Eddie starts before he can stop mortifying himself with his own words.

"Listen!" Cass snaps, flipping her hair, "This was a gross and egregious mistake. Like, please don't get attached just because this-- I mean, what was that, like, two seconds? Dude."

Eddie is an ant. Eddie feels two specks of dust tall in this very moment of white hot humiliation. Eddie also feels like he wants to toss something back at Cass, something about her stupid fake accent or douchebag scamming boyfriend or idiot made-up Christian overlord, but Eddie also feels too small to even be mean which is the suckiest fucking part of all this right here right now.

Instead, his lips stretch into a tight smile, condescending as he can conceivably make it. Rain's still thrumming like gunshots against the roof of the van.

"Okay. Freak show's over, honey. Better get going."

"Ugh, whatever. Not a word of this, to anyone. Understood?"

"Not exactly a lot to tell."

A scoff and a snarl sees Cass Finnigan retreat back out into the rain through the van's creaking doors, and Eddie's heart sinks even further, if possible. This is not what's meant to happen in these porno-like scenarios! He's meant to send her off with a buttload of cum probably still dripping out of her, and he's meant to feel on top of the fucking world! Not like he's thirteen years old and someone just played a shitty prank that he swore he was too smart to fall for.

Well, that's it. On Eddie Munson's good and apparently sexually repulsive name, this is the last time he intimately trifles with some airhead in-crowd girl.

Next person he's fucking is a straight up weirdo and it's celibacy 'til then. Freaks or nothing. Blood oath.

[prophecydungeon]

:EYES: gimme 1, 3, 10, 12, 16, 18, 22, 23, 24. :3c

How old were you when you started writing fic?

oh man.... it was the summer before 9th grade, so i think i must have been 13 or 14? that's the first time i sat down expressly thinking "i want to write a story about naruto where there's a GIRL with COOL POWERS and-", but then when i think back, i'm sure i probably scribbled down other similar "stories" about [insert media]. fanart For Sure came before fanfic for me.

3. What was your first fandom?

for the purposes of this Q i'm going to define one's first fandom as something i felt, like, Identifiably Fandomy feelings and experiences about (not just "omgggg i love pokemon lugia is my fave"), and that was, unsurprisingly, naruto.

HOWEVER, nart came to me on the heels of FMA, which i also definitely had fandomy feelings and experiences about, but nart was when i really dove into the whole fucking nine yards of early-aughts Fandom: AMVs, googling "cute sasuke pictures", printing shit out to put in my binder, baby's first yaoi (legitimately got a Talking To from a conservative christian friend about this, it was so goddamn funny), those animatics that people posted on deviantart, drawing soooo much fanart, and reading and writing Fan Fiction™ while actually calling it that.

10. Do you read your own fics for fun?

ABSOLUTELY!!!!!!!!! dude i reread my stuff ALL the time. especially when i'm at the point where i can't find anything that scratches the itch. i wrote that shit for me, of course i'm gonna reread it a million times.

12. Post a sentence from your current WIP

ok i lied i guess since we talked about it yesterday i will try to make this an active WIP so:

“If you chop my hands off,” Sanji threatens in Zoro’s low voice, jabbing an accusatory finger towards his own body, “I won’t just kill you. I’ll make you wish you bled out on the Baratie’s deck.”

16. What are your favorite characters to write?

i'm gonna take this as asking for a type of character rather than a list of names, so: i looooove writing POV characters who have every reason to misinterpret/misread what's happening, which is to say, i love an Outside POV character who doesn't catch on because why the fuck would they catch on. i've loved writing every outside POV fic i've written because i get to find ways for the POV character to reasonably not catch onto whatever fuckoffery is actually going on, albeit in different ways: hiyori doesn't like sanji because she's got no reason to believe The Bit is just a bit (girl i get it); the POV chars in the last two ficlets in this bleach collection genuinely have no frame of reference for what the fuck kind of creatures ichigo or grimmjow could be; if someone had told aunor flat-out "yeah shin malphur is also zyre orsa who is also dredgen vale and he's in some kind of situationship with the drifter" she would have laughed and fried them to cinders.

i could do this shit all day! it's all about finding a logical path for the POV char to figure out what is actually going on, at least to some degree, and then letting them deal with the fallout. (sorry, aunor.)

18. Is there some headcanon you've included in more than one fic?

yes, totally! i think Reishi Theory and adjacent bits and bobs is the most salient example; i think everything i've written for bleach has included some facet of our headcanons regarding how it all works. in general, my headcanons and interpretations tend to be pretty stable across fics, so if i've written more than one work for a fandom, there's probably some connecting thread.

22. Pick out a random line from a fic you're really proud of

from the blood of the covenant:

Sanji thinks: this is a ritual like everything Zeff has ever taught me. The purpose is in its existence. There's nothing unpragmatic about that.

this whole bit might be my favorite part of the fic, but this line(...s) in particular i like a lot; there's a lot of things in a lot of different disciplines that boil down to just being ritual, and that's a purpose of its own.

23. What's the most personal fic you've ever written?

ah....... i think in a roundabout way that goes to steam, fill, shape, share in ways that are pretty clear from the first paragraph. i project plenty throughout fics - really, what else is writing for - but this one was definitely personal.

24. What's the cringiest (affectionate) fic you've ever written?

answered!

[rastronomicals]

5:57 PM EDT April 19, 2024:

Robin Trower - "In This Place" From the album Bridge Of Sighs (April 20, 1974)

Last song scrobbled from iTunes at Last.fm

So: after 1983's Back It Up, James Dewar retires as the voice of the Robin Trower Band. But Robin of course wants to keep playing, so he hires a guy named Dave Bronze to sing for him and to play bass. And I'm sure Dave Bronze is a nice enough guy, but to say that he doesn't have the baritone presence of either Dewar or Jack Bruce would be a little of an understatement.

It is against this background that I tell you how my buddy and I went to see Trower in the late '80's, as the guitarist was touring off either Passion or Take What You Need.

My buddy is thinking how great it would be to have an autograph of Mr. Trower, but the other salient fact is that my buddy was not a vinyl guy; he was a cassette tape guy. I told you this was the '80's, right?

So he does what's required and makes a special trip to the record store to try and buy some Trower on vinyl, so he can take it to the show and have the guitarist sign it.

But then as it turns out, said record store doesn't have any Trower on vinyl--all it has on vinyl is The Best of Procol Harum. Certainly not ideal, but hey, he'd made the trip and he wanted to have something for Trower to sign, and Trower DID play on many of the cuts, so, no doubt thinking about our imperfect universe, my friend buys The Best of Procol Harum.

So we get out to the show, and Dave Bronze ain't James Dewar, but Robin remains Robin, and it's pretty fucking great, even if the songs from Passion are perhaps a little too obviously poppy. And my buddy's clutching his Procol Harum record throughout.

And then afterward, he sees a small throng forming stage right, and he's like, that's where I'm going, and I'm like, I'll be outside.

I'm through my beer and into a second one outside when he stumbles up to me with a sour expression on his face. And it turns out there were a bunch of people queuing up, but Trower never opened the stage door-although Dave Bronze did. So with much the same feeling that he must have had when he bought the Procol Harum record, my friend exercised the limited option he had available to him, and had Dave Bronze--who most likely never even MET Keith Reid or Gary Brooker--sign his copy of The Best of Procol Harum.

1/12/24 EDIT: Oh shit, looks like Dave Bronze was actually a member of Procol Harum! Trower rejoined Brooker and Reid for a 1991 album and he brought Dave with him. Point still remains, I'd think.

--

[mypoisonedvine]

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader (part 4)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself.  except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.  

word count: 5.3k

warnings: smut!!, overstimulation, oral f receiving, lots of dirty talk and begging, very very subtle d/s dynamics if you squint, slight angst??, awkwardness, pining 

Bucky’s heart was racing as he tried to prepare himself for what was coming.  It was never easy to watch that scene of you being fucked by somebody else— even if it wasn’t real, and even if it was technically your character that was getting fucked— but it was going to be an entirely new struggle with you a foot away, laying next to him on your bed.

“We only did two takes of this,” you remembered, talking over the conversation on-screen.  The smash cut to you being shoved against a wall, lips fighting for dominance in a searing kiss, made you chuckle.  “This we had to do, like, a million takes.”

Bucky’s hand tightened into a fist at the idea of you kissing this guy over and over.  “I’m sure he was real broken up about that,” he grumbled sardonically.

“No, I promise he actually was,” you defended, “I was terrible.  I kept laughing and ruining it, and it meant we had to keep starting over.”

That relieved some of his jealousy, hopeful that laughing meant you weren’t attracted to your co-star or turned on by filming a love scene.  He still felt his heart clench as he watched your shirt get pushed up and two hands (both flesh, like he was showing off or something) grab at your breasts.  Sooner than he was prepared for it, you were being thrown down onto the bed and moaning loudly, nails digging into his back as he stared down at you.

“I can’t even imagine how many guys have gotten off to this scene,” you shuddered.

I can’t believe I’m one of them, Bucky thought as he swallowed dryly.  “What about the guys on set?” he wondered aloud.  “Do they ever, you know, get…” he whistled and pointed his finger up straight, hoping it was enough to get the idea across.

You laughed, playfully shoving him on the shoulder.  “They have tape for that, to keep everything down in case they get a little too into it.”

Glancing to the screen, he wondered how this guy didn’t pop the tape right off.

“Have you ever…?” Bucky pressed, heart rate picking up as he pushed the boundaries a little bit.

“Have I ever… been turned on, while filming?” you finished his question.  “No,” you scoffed, sounding bemused and taking another swig of your drink.

“Why not?”

“I guess they’re just not my type,” you shrugged.

“Movie stars aren’t your type?” Bucky joked, but your answer was completely serious.

“Nope.”

He nodded slowly as he contemplated that, taking a moment to build up the courage to ask his next question.  “What is your type?”

You smirked a little, and he wasn’t sure at all what it meant aside from the fact that he was done for.  Whatever you were gonna say was sure to break his heart.  “Tall, dark, not famous…”

He could so picture you picking up fans at bars; you must have no trouble at all finding guys to mess around with.  Yep, totally heartbreaking.

“Good driver…” you continued, voice a little quieter and a little deeper.

Bucky cleared his throat anxiously.  “I guess that rules me out.”

“What?  You’re great; haven’t even blown any red lights or made illegal U-turns.”

“I mean, good drivers don’t eavesdrop on their passengers,” he explained, “especially when they’re with tall, dark, not-famous friends of theirs in the back.”

You laughed a little, half-lidded eyes looking him up and down.  He felt very exposed under your gaze.  “I didn’t mind,” you shrugged.

Oh god, oh fuck, Bucky’s mind raced, we’re talking about it.  All this time and we’re finally talking about it.  What the fuck do I say?  “I still shouldn’t have—” he began.

“I wanted you to,” you interrupted firmly.

“You… wanted me to look?”

“Wanted you to do a lot more than that,” you admitted.

He looked back at you with wide eyes, entirely devoid of thoughts or words or ideas on what to do in the moment.  Sure, it was pretty heavy flirting, but it wasn’t necessarily an invitation.  You said wanted, past tense, it didn’t mean you wanted him now.  Maybe you were just letting him know he missed his chance.  If he did the wrong thing and upset you, he’d never forgive himself.

“Seemed like you were pretty satisfied with what he was doing,” he remembered, hearing the waver in his voice and cringing.

“Only cause I was thinking about you,” you grinned.  “I do that a lot, actually.  I’m just usually alone when I do it…”

He shivered as you shifted onto your side and leaned towards him, reaching across his body to set your beer down on the bedside table next to him; with you so close, he feared his heart would beat out of his chest.  With the beer set aside, all you had to do was let your hand pull back to rest on his chest, and lift your leg up to rest on his, and you were straddling his side like it was the most simple, casual thing in the world.

But it wasn’t.  It was the most insane thing that had ever happened to him.  He looked down at you and blinked a few times, confident the hallucation would end but nope, he could feel the warmth of you radiating through his clothes, threatening to burn him alive.

“I’m usually in this bed, right here,” you continued slowly, and he had trouble keeping track of what you were saying with your finger trailing along his chest through his shirt, “warm under the covers, wearing a lot less than this, knowing you’re just a few rooms away and wishing you would come in here and touch me…”

"I’m here now,” he replied, just louder than a whisper.  “Can I touch you?" 

“Take off the gloves,” you requested softly.  He was quick with the right one, but hesitated before removing the left— the moment of truth.  Your breath hitched as the light caught the golden and black metal, and he winced.

“That bad?”

“No, no,” you denied, “it’s… sort of beautiful, actually.”

With you wrapped around his left side, it was natural for his right hand to move up your thigh.  His left hand brushing against your face seemed to surprise you, though.

"I'm sorry, is it cold?" he asked gently.

"A little," you giggled, "but I don't mind."

Demonstrating how little you minded, in fact, you slowly kissed the tips of his bionic fingers, getting more and more adventurous until you were suddenly slipping two of them into your mouth and down past your throat.

"Fuck," he shivered, silently thanking whatever gods were out there that technology made him capable of feeling the wet warmth of your mouth on his fingers.

"Just skin everywhere else, right?" you smirked.  "It's not a Swiss army knife down there?"

"Nope," he laughed, "flesh an' blood."

The blood aspect was especially salient as his cock filled so fast he thought he might pass out.  Your hand slipped down and started to ghost over the front of his jeans, and he fought every instinct to keep from bucking up into your hand.  You started to go for his belt but he sat up a bit.

“Wait,” he requested, clutching your shoulders a little; as soon as you looked back at him, he pulled you into a kiss, probably a little too aggressively but he was too pent up to care.  After all this waiting, he actually had to hold himself back a bit compared to how he really wanted to kiss you.  He moved his lips against yours slowly but with determination— and it was you, in the end, that started to slide your tongue along his lips until he opened them, giving him a chance to taste your mouth like he’d dreamed of for so long.  Past the beer was the unmistakable flavor of you, and he was instantly addicted to it.  His arms wrapped around you and held you close, one hand tangling in your hair a bit as you started to lean into his palm.  Your hands clutched at his shirt, the warmth of your touch managing to permeate through to his skin, and he heard the softest moan from you right against his lips.  It was perfection, and he would’ve been happy to stay like that forever if it weren’t for you sitting up to straddle him.  He couldn’t decide if it was the sight of you on top of him, or the weight of your body on his, or the feeling of your thighs clenching a bit just above his throbbing cock— it was probably all three, but he suddenly became so needy for you that his head was spinning.

Still absorbed in the kiss, he reached down and gently pulled at the knot holding your robe shut, letting it fall open before pushing it off your shoulders slowly.  You smiled against his lips and sat up, taking it off the rest of the way to reveal your entire nudity underneath.  You’d think that he would’ve wished to be naked with you, and that certainly would’ve made a few of his ideas a lot easier to act upon, but something about your bare body compared to his covered one— something about your mound grinding on his jeans like that— drove him fucking wild.

“God, baby,” he praised with a purr, running his hands all over whatever he could reach.  A movie could never do a body like this justice.  It deserved to be appreciated and worshipped in person, which was exactly what he planned to do.

“Your turn,” you giggled as you leaned down, unbuttoning his shirt hastily.  He was proud of the way you bit down on your lip as his skin was exposed, though he was also a bit embarrassed to reveal he was wearing his dog tags underneath.  “A little more metal under here than I was expecting,” you smirked, trailing an errant finger over the silver chain.  “There’s always more to you than meets the eye… what other secrets are you hiding, hm?”

Right now, he wanted you to have all his secrets.  He wanted to give you everything.  “I’ve wanted this for so long,” he admitted first.

“I don’t think that’s that much of a secret,” you smirked as you finished the last button. 

He sat up to help you discard the shirt, shivering as your touch trailed over his chest, his abs; then his scars, and the rest of the arm.  He used it to pull you down by your neck for another kiss, testing the waters by getting a touch rougher and letting more of his desperation seep through.  You responded very well, your moans gliding from your tongue onto his as your hips started to rock on top of his.  “Needy little thing, aren’t ya?” he gently mocked, smiling as he started to kiss down your neck and onto your shoulder.  “Ridin’ me through my jeans, like a damn teenager dry-humping after prom.”

“Hnng, Bucky,” you choked, slowing down.

He grabbed your hips with both hands.  “Hey, I didn’t say to stop.”  

With a moan and renewed vigor, you moved faster on top of him, the rough denim clearly a bit too much for your sensitive clit as your thighs began to quiver where they were clamped down around his.  The stimulation on his cock, alternatively, was rather dulled through such thick clothing— it was just enough to keep him desperate, but not enough to get him too near coming, which was the way he wanted it at the moment.  If anything, it was the sight of you rubbing yourself on him desperately that put his restraint at risk.

“Can you feel how hard I am, baby?” he growled a little.  “Can you feel how hard you make me?”

You nodded with a little gasp.  "God, Bucky, I want it in me now."

"Not yet, pretty girl,” he soothed with a smirk.  “I need to taste you first."

He flipped you onto your back and settled on top of you between your legs; he kissed you one more time, resisting the urge to rub his hips on yours again before heading down south to suck your nipple between his lips.  You were so sensitive, moaning loudly each time his tongue circled the bud, and he moaned at the feeling of the skin hardening against his tongue.  He made sure to give some attention to the other one before making a show of kissing down your chest and stomach, looking back up at you with a stare that he could only hope carried all the weight that he was feeling.

"I get it," you grinned down at him, "this is how you reclaim your territory.  You're gonna do what he did to me, but so much better until I can't even remember his name, right?"

"Sweetheart, you didn't even remember his name thirty seconds after it happened,” he reminded you between kisses, moving lower and lower on the bed.

"So you're not trying to assert dominance over sexual competition?" you pressed with a gleam of challenge in your eyes.

"You need to stop reading those evolutionary biology books," he laughed, but then got a bit more stern. "Think of it this way: I don't see any of those stupid boys as competition.  They're nothing.  It's you who needs to know that nobody can make you feel as good as I can."

That seemed to shut you up for the moment, and he smirked before getting back to work kissing along your spread thighs and shaking hips.  He could already smell your need in the air, intoxicating to the point that he struggled to stay focused on mercilessly teasing you.  He wanted to taste you so bad, but he needed to hear you beg him for it.  He started with one finger gently exploring your folds, slow and light, until he felt your hips trying to push up into him for more stimulation.  Then all he had to do was kiss that spot right on the inside of your thigh that wasn’t quite where you wanted him, and you arched your back with a desperate whine.  “Bucky, please,” you whimpered. 

He laughed a little, amused by your little sobs and the way your hands clutched at the comforter beneath you.  “Tell me what you need, sweetheart.”

“Your mouth,” you gasped.

“Where do you want it?” he asked innocently.

You snarled with irritation but answered anyway.  “My pussy.”

“I don’t think I understand,” he encouraged, voice getting deeper on accident as his own arousal became too intense to ignore.

You growled frustratedly but got what he was getting at.  “I need your mouth on my pussy, Bucky, please…”

“Well, why didn’t you say so, darlin’?  All you had to do was ask,” he grinned as he roughly grabbed your thighs and buried his face in between them, sloppily exploring you with his tongue until your taste coated his mouth and overwhelmed all his senses.

“Fuck!” you yelped, shivering against him.  “Oh god, yes, Bucky, oh my god…”

“Is this what you wanted, pretty girl?” he asked, pulling back just as much as he needed to to speak.

“Yes, Bucky, just like that,” you nodded wildly, “feels so good, don’t fucking stop, please—”

He dove in again, finding a pattern that allowed him to suck on your clit and push his tongue inside you simultaneously.  That was the combination that seemed to rile you up most, your hands searching for something to hold on to until they suddenly found purchase gripping his hair, guiding him as your hips bucked against his face.  That was fine with him— more than that, in fact, cause he thought it was so sexy when you demanded control like that— until you switched from pulling him in to pushing him away.  That wouldn’t do at all; with a growl, he grabbed your wrists and forced them down beside you, holding them firm as he licked at you rougher and faster.

“Fuck, Bucky,” you sobbed, back arching so much that he had to fight to keep you in his mouth, “right there, right there— oh fuck, I’m gonna come.”

He nodded, but it wasn’t permission; it was ‘of course you are.’

Your walls clenched so hard that your entire sex was pulsing in his mouth, your taste getting stronger in the same way your moans got louder.  He wanted to hold you there as long as you could, and that turned out to be quite a while; he stopped when your screams of pleasure started to push too far into pain, finally letting you rest… for a moment, that is.

He watched your panting breaths catch as he slowly pushed a finger into your hole; it was still pulsing a little bit from the orgasm, and was unbearably hot and wet.

"Fuck, this pretty little pussy is tryin' to suck me in, you see that?  Wants me so bad…"

"M-more, Bucky, please," you whispered.  He obeyed and slipped in a second finger, slowly twisting and trying to open you up for him.

"You like that, pretty girl?" he asked with a smile as he watched your back arch, returning to suck on your clit without waiting for an answer.  He relished the weight of your thighs on his shoulders, taking mental note of where he had to touch you to make them clench around his head.  You kept repeating 'yes' but he didn't think it was intended as an answer to his question because he was pretty sure you hadn't even heard the question.  Still, it was answer enough nonetheless.

He could tell it wouldn't take that long to get you there again, with your g-spot all swollen from the last one.  He didn't push too hard on it yet, just letting his fingers curl ever so slightly to apply a teasing amount of pressure.  

"Don't you wanna fuck me?" you moaned between sobs.

His cock seemed to process that question before his brain did.   "Yes," he answered quickly, even though he thought it was rude to talk with his mouth full.

"Then get on with it," you suggested desperately.  "Come on up here and fuck me."

"I'm not done with this yet," he insisted.

Your head fell back as you hissed frustratedly through your teeth.  "Damn you and your… thoroughness."

"No point in doing anything if you're not gonna do it right," he laughed.  "Besides, I couldn't stop now when you're about to come."

You looked back at him for a second like you didn't agree with that assessment, until he curled his fingers again and your walls rippled erratically around him.  "Fuck," you shuddered.  “Please fuck me, please fuck me, please,” you sobbed, “I need it so bad, I need you inside me— Bucky, pleasepleaseplease—”

He growled against your skin, struggling to resist that but desperate to make you come just one more time before he gave in.  His cock really hated that he wasn’t giving you what you wanted, throbbing and weeping another drop of precum just to remind him of his own desperation.  But he stayed strong, focusing on his task as he felt your walls tighten around him with another orgasm.

You nearly screamed with this one, your voice breaking as your nails dug into the bed beneath you.  You looked fucking perfect with your head thrown back in pleasure like that— and you tasted even better as a gush of your arousal coated his tongue.  

He kept circling your bud with his tongue until you started to sob a little and try to push him off of you, “can’t take anymore, please—”

And he took pity on you, for once— or maybe it was moreso pity on himself as he sat up and palmed himself through his jeans.  He was so hard it hurt, and you looked like you could tell by the way you looked up at him: a glimmer of mischief in your eyes, still, even with the way they’d glazed over a bit from coming so hard.  “Get over here,” you purred as you sat up and pulled him down on top of you, kissing him again as your hands slipped down to clutch at his chest.

Of everything he’d imagined, he had never even thought to consider what it would be like to be undressed by you.  Those nimble fingers fiddling with his belt, working open his fly and zipper with such unabashed desperation, like you needed him more than you’d ever needed anything… truly, it was intoxicating.

Then again, it was nothing compared to your hand slipping into his boxers and wrapping around his cock.  He was sure he’d never gotten so much out of just one touch before, and he had to fight off the moan bubbling in his throat.  Your hands were so soft as they started to gently stroke him; his hips moved of their own accord as they started to thrust into your grasp.

“God, I need you to fuck me,” you groaned, “please, Bucky, need it so bad.”

Entirely speechless as this point, all he could do was nod as he pushed your hands off of him, pushing his jeans off quickly so as to be away from you as briefly as he could manage— and then he was on you again, kissing you everywhere he could reach, moaning when he finally let his cock brush between your legs for a moment.  Even just that and he was already coated in your slick: the rewards of demanding to be thorough, clearly.

“Please,” you sobbed, “put it in me, can’t wait any more, I’ve waited so long…”

It almost made him stop to think, because it was ambiguous if you just meant tonight or more.  But you were begging him for his cock so he wasn’t really in any position to think.

So many times he had wondered if your real moans sounded anything like your fake ones from the movie.  He fantasized for months about a chance to make the comparison.  But with you in front of him, under him, biting down on your lip as he pushed into your perfect warmth, he couldn’t even remember that you’d ever been in a movie.  He couldn’t think about anything else but this moment, right now, and he didn’t want to.

“God, Bucky,” you sighed, as if the two were being regarded at the same level in your mind— and he wasn't even halfway in yet.

Equal parts of him wanted to ease you into it and to tear you in half.  You'd always ignited this paradox in him, this instinct to protect and to destroy, this desire to cherish you and dominate you, but it was most apparent now.  It made him worry that he could never really give you what you deserved, but naturally, he was at his most selfish in this moment.  He had only just begun to push himself into you and he was ready to justify anything to get the rest of the way and bury himself to the hilt.

Your body opened up to him slightly, enough that he felt mostly right about going a little deeper; you gasped and clutched at his forearm, and that was only just barely enough to stop him as a sick pressure of arousal made his gut twist.  Oddly enough, your nails biting into his skin did more to egg him on than it did to slow him down.

He kept his eyes trained on where your bodies were joined, watching in awe at the way you looked stretched out around him; he could feel your struggle to take him in the way your walls quivered and quaked, but he could hear how much you enjoyed it as you moaned and gasped beneath him.

"I want it all, Bucky, please," you begged.  Just because he needed to, he was rough with the last inch— not enough for it to be really brutal, but plenty to elicit a precious little sob from you.

It felt so good to be all the way in you that it nearly made him dizzy.  

"Baby," you whispered, and it sounded just like the way you'd said it in the back of the car, just like the way he'd committed to memory and stowed away in his mind to visit whenever he needed to feed his addiction.

How could his chest not burn with jealousy when he remembered that night?  How could he cope with that jealousy with anything but pinning you down and fucking you hard and fast like it was the end of the goddamn world?

You all but screamed as he did it, your whole body shaking as he pounded into you.  He feared it would be more than you could handle but you went from wet to dripping in an instant, your moans loud and hoarse but undeniably a sound of pleasure.  It turned him on even more to know that you liked getting fucked this hard; maybe he didn't need to worry so much about holding back, if this was gonna make you bite your lip and look up at him like that.

"Bucky, oh my god," you sighed, a hint of disbelief in your tone, "it's so good, fuck, you feel so good…"

He wanted to hear more, but he couldn't resist capturing your lips in a kiss first, sloppy and aggressive and needy but overall perfect.  It was almost like he could taste your moans as they vibrated over his tongue, until he could barely tell his apart from yours anymore.  Pulling back, his dog tags were dangling over your face, and you looked so damn good with his name tickling your skin.  

When he lifted your legs and pushed them back up into your chest, you snarled and clutched at the sheets beneath you.  "Too deep?" he asked, not sure himself if it was concern or taunting or somewhere in the middle.

"So fucking deep," you answered, "but not too deep."

"Then maybe I'm not deep enough," he smirked, and you laughed.

"You're trying to ruin me, is that it?" you pressed.

He was afraid to be entirely honest, but your tone wasn't one of fear.  "Something like that," he admitted after a moment.

"It's working," you sighed as you pulled him down by the chain of his tags, kissing him again as your arms slipped around his neck and held him close.

His hands squeezed your thighs, before taking a detour to run up and down your legs.  It made you shiver, and he felt it from inside you which was overwhelmingly erotic.  The time he’d spent making you come so many times was paying off: for one, you were so wet it made him feel a little-lightheaded, but also it meant that he felt familiar with your body now.  He knew what it meant when your walls tightened just so, when you bit your lip that way, when your moans sounded all breathy and strained.  That being, of course, that you were about to come— and he couldn’t wait for you to come just from being fucked, make a mess all over his cock.

And yet, there was still so much more to discover: like how it felt when your legs wrapped around his hips to keep him inside, or when your fingers dug into his shoulders as you looked up at him.

“Gonna come,” you warned him with half-lidded eyes and your mouth fallen slack, “oh my god, Bucky, you’re gonna make me come.”

He growled and tightened his grip on your thigh— something to stabilize him as he fought so hard to stave off his own orgasm.  You felt so good and he could probably come just from the sight of you like this anyways, let alone being inside you right now.  Think about baseball think about baseball think about baseball—

“Yes!” you screamed.  “Right there, oh fuck, Buckyyyyy!” 

“Fuck,” he hissed, completely unable to think about anything but you, lost in the way you cried out his name as your walls fluttered and pulsed around him so perfectly.  

Maybe he was disturbed for thinking you looked pretty with your eyes filling with tears.  He was definitely disturbed for taking some pride in making you cry.  Of course, only because he was making you cry from this.  If he had it his way, Bucky would make you cry in only this way, every day, forever— and make sure nobody made you cry in any other way, while he was at it.  You hiccuped your sob as he continued to pound into you, refusing to let up even as he leaned down to kiss away your tears.  “S-so good,” you mumbled weakly, “Bucky… please…”

"Fuck, gonna come— I'm gonna come," he stammered his warning.

"Inside me, please," you whimpered, "I want it inside me."

"Jesus Christ," he hissed, shaking his head in some form of exhausted shock.  You grinned, wrapping your hands around his neck and pulling him closer to you until your lips brushed against his ear.

"Bucky, I want you to come inside me," you repeated in a slow whisper.  "I want every drop of your come in my pussy, I wanna be so full of you, I wanna feel it leaking out all night, I want you to make me yours."

How was he supposed to hold back anymore, with you talking like that?  With you weaving your fingers into his hair and tightening your legs around his hips, with you kissing him deeply and suddenly?  A weak moan was lost to your lips as he filled you, warmth washing over every part of him until he thought he might just melt.  You smiled against him, and he summoned just enough strength to not collapse on top of you and surely crush you with his weight.  Instead, he gave you one last kiss before burying his face in your neck, laughing exhaustedly.  

"Mine, huh?” he remembered.  “You really mean it?"

You hummed quietly, holding him tightly.  "I probably shouldn't answer that question just after you made me come a dozen times."

"No no, you should,” he pressed as he pushed up to hover over you.

You smiled and looked back up at him.  "I'm yours, Bucky."

He growled, leaning down to give your neck light teasing kisses.  "Fuck, keep talkin' like that and I'll double that dozen."

"My body couldn't take it," you asserted.

"I'd make you take it," he promised.

You bit down on your lip, and he couldn't help but chuckle a little.  You weren't as good at feigning innocence as you seemed to think.

"Oh, you like that," he posited.  "Maybe someday I'll tie you down and make you come until all you know how to do is say my name, hm?"

"Bet it wouldn't even take you that long," you admitted.  "I already feel pretty braindead."

Testing that theory, he reached down and drew light circles over your swollen clit with his thumb, even just that subtle touch making your legs and inner walls quiver as your back arched.

"Bucky," you whimpered as you tried to push his hand away, "s'too much, please…"

"Nuh uh, pretty girl, I wanna see you fall apart again.  You know how many times I dreamed of making you come?"

You shook your head.

"Me either, but I wanna keep doing it until I feel like I've reached a number that at least comes close.  I've finally got you in my arms and I won't let you go until I've made up for all the time I wasted."

Notably, his cock which had begun to soften inside you was now getting hard again, from some combination of watching you and feeling you in this moment.

“How do you feel about a second round?” he suggested with a smirk, even as his muscles ached already.  Your eyes went wide but your walls clenched, too.  That was answer enough for him.  “I might break you,” he warned.

“Promise?” you smirked.

[d-criss-news]

Nine Songs: Darren Criss

When Disney, Phantom Planet and Mr Hudson collide: Glee star, Emmy and Golden Globe winner and musician Darren Criss talks Andrew Wright through the pivotal songs in his life and the unexpected ways they found him.

“When we are younger, our gateway drugs to a lot of popular things don’t come from the sexiest of places. It’s up to you how proactive you want to be with your curiosity from there, and how far down the rabbit hole you want to go, if you go down at all.”

Choosing the songs that define you is a tricky business to say the least, especially when the power of song has provided an ongoing soundtrack to your life. “When you’re as avid a music consumer as musical artists are, trying to pin down Nine Songs is difficult,” Darren Criss laughs. So much so, his final choices only really crystallise as our conversation draws to its close. “It’s hard for me not to see the value and joy in literally everything,” he explains. “The curse of the creative person is that your ideas and your interests always move way faster than your body can execute.”

Criss is a creative par excellence. As well as his Emmy and Golden Globe winning performance in The Assassination of Gianni Versace, where he played serial killer Andrew Cunanan, to his upcoming role in Muppets Haunted Mansion Halloween special as The Caretaker, he’s also a prolific musician. Criss enjoyed a decadent musical consumption since childhood, so “this was a bit of an archaeological dig,” he admits. As such, everything from jazz standards, to 808s, punk rock, ‘90s teen pop, and musical numbers are excavated in the course of our extemporaneous journey through the music he loves.

Equally on his mind is how to go about approaching the task of creating his Nine Songs, full stop. “The interesting social experiment is: Are my answers going to be songs that actually shaped my life and were formative to me as an artist? Are they songs that were formative to me as a human being? Or am I picking songs that I think represent who I am to people that do not know me? All three of those things aren’t necessarily the same thing.”

He reaches a conclusion of sorts. “For the purposes of making some kind of decision, I’m gonna lean less into trying to look cool to your very cool readership, and more into the literal, ‘What made me think about music in a different way? And hit me in a very emotional way?’ I think that’s probably the healthiest route.”

Embracing the accessibility that characterises Criss’ picks - or at times the initial touchpoints that led him to them - are something he vacillates over during our chat. “I’ve seen a lot of other people’s Nine Songs and they’re super cool. It’s like Leonard Cohen B-sides and old opera records and stuff. I’m gonna be pretty honest with the pop culture zeitgeist of how I grew up but explain why there is so much value in those moments.” His contemplation continues into the next day, Criss’s publicist passes on his regrets at being tentative to admit how he encountered one of his song choices via the Shrek soundtrack.

A yearning to reinterpret accessibility and the value attached to it drives Criss, however. He tells me that a festival performance that applied the anarchic verve of punk rock to a more refined Great American Songbook number remoulded his perception of music entirely. His love of the fusion of these two genres in particular symbolises the salient musical backdrops of his childhood - the guitar bands he played in with friends, and his musical theatre endeavours that led him to Broadway and multiple Ryan Murphy juggernauts, including his breakthrough playing Blaine Anderson in Glee.

Criss employs these contrasting musical lexicons, and other areas in between, on Masquerade, his new EP. Comprising five stand-alone “character-driven” singles, it sees Criss donning different musical personas. “I’m leaning into people that might know me as an actor,” he explains. “Because if actors can do Shakespeare, romantic comedy, and then do a horror movie and wear a prosthetic nose and a wig, I didn’t understand why I couldn’t just do that with music.” The song “walk of shame” draws on jazz-standard chords interlaced with hip-hop production, “i can’t dance” looks to new-wave, and “for a night like this” is the product of Criss’ goal to create the ultimate end-of-the-night crowd-pleaser for a new-year bash, wedding or bar mitzvah. “This is all of the parts of me as a lifelong fan of these genres, trying my hand at servicing the pieces of them that I love.”

“I really love all styles of music and understanding what makes them unique and special and what makes them really pop. There are so many things that really make things sing - for lack of a better verb - and I like acknowledging those things and celebrating those things.”

“So, let’s begin. I have runners up and shit, and I have artists, I don’t just have the songs, so we might have to pick them as we go.”

“Part of Your World” by Jodi Benson

“When people read this, they’ll go ‘That’s cute, he likes Disney songs’, but it’s more profound than that. Some of the most formative pieces of music to hit me at a very early age would have been any of the songs that were coming from ‘The Disney renaissance.’ The early-mid ‘90s explosion of The Little Mermaid, Aladdin and Beauty and The Beast.

"One of the through lines between the three of those musicals was Howard Ashman, who is one of my all-time heroes. Dramaturg, songwriter - he really was the voice behind what made those songs great. I have always loved Howard’s lyrical sensibility and also Alan Menken, his partner who wrote these songs with him. There was a musical structure to a lot of the songs which I would unconsciously pick up in my own songwriting, not just musically, but the idea that not only did somebody make these songs, but they wrote them for a story.

“There’s a clip of Howard Ashman vocal directing Jodi Benson, who was the original voice of Ariel. It’s a wonderful example of his genius, where not only was he songwriting but he was storytelling in the way he would tell her how to perform it, and you can really see the song coming to life in that clip. That’s when you cross the street from ‘It’s a song’ to ‘This is an experience.’

"There are certain ingredients that are required to elevate music that goes beyond just a nice melody, a beautiful orchestration and a good voice. There are things that are required to really give a performance a characterisation, context and a vulnerability, that he architects in real-time with Jodi Benson. You see that what he’s doing is what makes the record so special, and that’s something that’s always been inspiring to me.”

“MMMBop” by Hanson

“I think my love of Hanson was because some people didn’t like it, so I was like ‘Fuck you, I like this, how do you feel about it?’ But this is difficult for me, because you know, I’m speaking to The Line of Best Fit and we’re trying to be cool! Although, do you know what’s cool? Being accessible! Writing a pop hit when you are 10 years old. Being in a band with your brothers and you’re all below the age of 15, you have a record contract where you are writing, producing and performing songs that are doing well.

“I was 10 years old when their first album Middle of Nowhere came out, and I remember reading somewhere that there were these kids that had a record. At the time, I was playing guitar and I was writing songs, but in my mind I was a kid, and that was it. I couldn’t be on the radio; you had to be a grown up to do this.

"This was the first time where I realised ‘Holy shit, kids can do stuff!’ It’s the value of seeing yourself in the media - that’s a whole other conversation to talk about - but there’s an immense value in feeling like there’s a piece of you out in the zeitgeist and doing well because it’s encouraging. You go, ‘Holy shit, maybe I can do this as well.'

“When you see children doing things, you’re ‘Wow, this is so cute and fabulous’, but then when you actually look at it you go, ‘This is miles above what most people in this age group are capable of,’ and that’s all I saw, because I was in the same age group and I was so inspired by that. This whole album was really a turning point for me, where I was like, ‘I can do this, I can do music too, because these guys can.'

“Ooh La La” by Faces

“This song really blew my mind. It became my own theme. It’s that ‘Make your heart sing’, nostalgic moment when you’re a teenager, driving in the car listening to it, playing guitar with your friends and you’re singing “I wish that I knew what I know now / When I was younger.” You’re like, ‘because I’m an adult now, I’m 15-years-old. If I only knew what I know now.’

“I was doing theatre from a young age and I was part of a young conservatory called A.C.T. in San Francisco. By way of somebody who knew somebody, I had an audition for a movie. As a kid not being near New York or Los Angeles it was really exciting, and this audition was for a film called ‘Max Fischer’, which would become the movie Rushmore, which would become one of my favourite movies of all time by the now very distinguished Wes Anderson.

“Separate from my own objective love of Wes Anderson, when this movie came out I was just around the age of getting into my own sort of identity with music, but also movies - indie movies - and trying to assert who I was. So, I see this movie Rushmore and I love it. I love the soundtrack, I love it so much, it’s one of my favourite albums ever. This song is the end sequence, and the way it made me feel - the vocals on it, I could play it on guitar and it was part of a cool movie - it really represented a lot in my life.

“And because of the acting thing, and Rushmore being great - it’s about this kid in high-school who's misunderstood but has his own agenda - everything about it was just so fucking cool to me. To this day, I cite that song as one of my favourite records of all time.”

“Recently Distressed” by Phantom Planet

“A guy that really formed the way I would sing and write songs is Alex Greenwald, the frontman of Phantom Planet. I went to see Phantom Planet because I loved Rushmore and I found out that Jason Schwartzman [who had been cast as Max Fischer] was also the drummer for a band called Phantom Planet.

"So, when I saw their name on the bill I went, but I didn't know their music. I was barely 14, but their set blew my mind. It was Rock and Roll, but I loved Alex Greenwald’s voice. I loved everything, and I would follow their career from there. I always tell people that my voice is a combination of me trying to be Alex Greenwald, Paul McCartney and Rufus Wainwright, but failing. Alex was incredibly formative for me.

“One of their biggest records was a little while after I first saw them, which was the song for The O.C., "California." That was more of an Elvis Costello thing, and they employed a lot of stuff that sounded to me like The Beatles and a lot of ‘60s mod/pop-rock. But later they would employ things from Fugazi, Radiohead and harder shit, and that eclecticism, again, only accelerated my love for Phantom Planet.

“Recently Distressed” is from their 1998 album Phantom Planet Is Missing. This was a cool rock song that employed these George [Harrison] and Paul [McCartney] background vocals and included all of the things that I loved. It was harder but melodic and employed minor 4th chords and more complicated chords than I was used to. I had grown up with power chords - which are very Gregorian - on a lot of alt. punk rock, like Green Day or Nirvana, and if Kurt Cobain was using power chords then that’s how I was playing guitar. Hearing this music was like ‘Oh, I’m using full chords, not sevenths, minor 4th chords, diminished chords’, shit that I would learn to use more and more.

“When you haven’t experienced much, anything that gives a hint towards possibility, even though it’s probably always been there, you’re like, ‘I like this, I’ve always kind of liked this, but it’s very encouraging to hear somebody else do it and it’s gonna make me reconsider my possibilities.’ That was literally the moment that my power chords turned into full barre chords.”

“Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk” by Rufus Wainwright

“I forgot the other day how I got into Rufus Wainwright, because all of this stuff I was getting into quite young. It’s like when I talk to 11-13 year olds, it’s funny to think that this was when I was really starting to build my musical identity. But then I remembered, and I didn’t want to say because I didn’t want to sound uncool, because he is such a revered artist who exists in a much cooler place than what I’m about to say.

“I loved soundtracks and I would always buy soundtracks for movies that had cool playlists. I had the Shrek soundtrack, and there’s a cover of Leonard Cohen’s seminal “Hallelujah” that Rufus does and he smashes it, and I’m like, ‘Who the fuck is Rufus Wainwright? What a beautiful voice.’ Then I saw that he was going to be at the Virgin Megastore in San Francisco one week, so I go and he’s there promoting his new album Poses. I remember I didn’t have enough money to buy the album that day, so I had him sign my sneaker and I saved that shoe.

“The first song on Poses was “Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk”, which is a very dark and reflective song about his own battles with addiction, but he’s singing it over this really beautiful, whimsical song that has a lot of really great wordplay. I always love when artists, especially lyricists, can encapsulate an idea with not exactly what they’re talking about. The song’s called “Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk”, it’s not called “Addiction”. Its talking about things that he craved and how that’s representative of other things that he’s gone through. There was a sophistication and elegance to that that I really gravitated towards, that I didn’t possess but wanted to shoot for. So when I saw him, that was a big one for me and he would also continue to influence me later in my life.

“I’ve become friends with Rufus since. I’ve performed with him and we’ve made records together, which is crazy. His songwriting was very complex and punk-rock, but he had this classic cabaret voice, the kind of voice that I don’t have. I was fascinated that there was somebody that could write this really dark material but have such elegance on top of it. He was virtuosic on the piano, which I thought was very cool because musicianship is always the thing that gets me going the most about artists.

“You know what? People say, ‘Don’t meet your heroes.' I completely disagree. Chase the living fuck out of your heroes. I’ve spent a lifetime doing so, it’s made me a better artist, and I’ve sometimes got to meet them and work with them. I’ve worked on music with Alex Greenwald of Phantom Planet. I’ve performed with Hanson. I’ve performed those Disney songs with Alan Menken at The Hollywood Bowl.

"This is all because there are people that I love who I have put on my vision board, and the things that they have done are the things that are bringing me to them. So it is nuts, but at the same time you’re like, ‘Well, what else did you think would happen?’ They did stuff that some part of me connected with, so obviously there’s a magnetic pull towards that person.

“Rufus Wainwright is one of my absolute favourite artists of all time and like I said, me trying to sing like him and failing is a big part of my own journey as an artist.”

“3x5” by John Mayer

“John Mayer’s another guy that came around when I was 15. I heard a song of his on a middle-of-the-night, singer/songwriter college radio show. This is where I used to get music. You would listen to these carefully curated playlists that you wouldn’t be able to hear anywhere else, and the host played “No Such Thing”, a new song by this young kid who had just dropped out of Berklee College of Music - John Mayer.

“I’m listening to this song and I’m like, ‘Not only is this guitar playing really interesting, but the lyrical value and everything that is going on here ticks all the boxes.' It was jazz, but it was pop. And he did something that all these other guys and girls I’ve mentioned did. They made something very unique and very accessible.

“I immediately went out to buy this album, Room For Squares, and I listened to it over and over again. It was an album that was really formative for me. "3x5” is a really beautiful song that employs a lot of chord structures and melodies that blew my fucking mind at the time, and it made me wish that I could write songs like that.

“That album was a huge turning point in the way I played the guitar, because it was the first time in my life where I would look up tabs. Up until this point in my life, if I heard a song I could play it instantly. It was like a party trick, I would get how it worked if I heard it, because most of the songs I would hear on the radio - especially those that involved a guitar - were [centred around] power chords. And now I’m hearing all of these ninth chords and thirteenths, and I’m like, ‘What the fuck is this?’ So I’d have to look up tabs.

“I think any young artist can attest to this - when you try and learn other people’s shit, it’s the best tool for educating yourself. Playing other people’s music really helps you lock in what your own style is. Trying to learn these songs - and sometimes pulling it off and sometimes not - really changed the way that my hands moved around the guitar and considered chords and voicings that I’d never really thought of.

“There’s another tie to musical theatre here, where I remember seeing Audra McDonald, who is a very venerated theatre actor, and she did a cabaret. If you’re familiar with cabaret culture, it’s more about performing the story of the songs – ‘Life is a cabaret’. She did a John Mayer song because she thought it was from a musical theatre show, and I was so tickled by this, because I was like ‘Yeah, if you really think about it, I don’t think he knows this and I don’t think his fan base even thinks about this, but there’s a number of his songs that feel very theatrical in the way that the lyrics play with each other and the way the chords move’.

"When I saw this I thought, ‘That is why I like John Mayer’, because yes, he’s an amazing guitar player, but he’s also a really strong songwriter.”

“Cabaret” by Me First and the Gimme Gimmes

“Also, around this time growing up in San Francisco, as a guitar player playing music with your buddies, the number one thing that you play is punk rock. There are different parts of the spectrum of punk rock, there's the NOFX, Swingin’ Utters, like real punk, punk. And then there’s the pop-punk thing that was happening at the same time, which was also equally influential - blink-182 and Green Day.

“Fat Mike was the frontman of NOFX. I loved NOFX, and Me First and the Gimme Gimmes were a supergroup of different members from different punk bands, of which Fat Mike was one of the main architects. They would cover songs and turn them into punk rock songs. They have an album of hits from the ‘60s, and they also have an album called Me First and the Gimme Gimmes: Are a Drag, and that record is just a tonne of musical theatre covers that are done through punk rock.

“That was completely in line with everything I loved at this time of my life but didn’t really know how to articulate. I loved punk rock but I also really loved musical theatre. Not only the performative element of it, but there was a real musicality to musical theatre that wasn’t as present in some of the other shit that was popular at the time, just harmonically, or where chords would go. There was a sophistication I loved that seemed to not exist in punk rock.

“Then hearing Fat Mike at The Warped Tour going ‘Alright, which one of you Motherfuckers loves Julie Andrews?’ and hearing a mixed bag of reactions, because people were ‘What? I was not expecting that from you, sir?’ And then they start playing “My Favourite Things”, a classic Rodgers and Hammerstein song which is very accessible, but sophisticated nonetheless. And I am just living. I’m like, ‘This has got the attitude and simplicity of punk rock, but the sophistication of a beautiful song.’

“That was the first time in my life where I went, ‘It’s just all music. All these categories and boxes are completely arbitrary.’ So I thought, ‘I can do that.' I was playing power chords in punk bands but I realised that you can take chords and make them into other rhythms and voicings and have the same song. I could take a punk song and make it jazz. I could take a jazz song and make it country. So, quite providentially, I would end up on Glee, where they took popular songs and would sometimes do their own versions.

“By that point, I had been doing this my whole life. The first time this ever became a possibility for me was seeing Me First and the Gimme Gimmes, and that way of thinking about music and genre. I’ve put that into Masquerade, and it’s all born from that moment of ‘Oh my God, nothing has to be one thing. It’s just about how you look at it.'

“Cabaret” is from a pretty famous musical that I would’ve probably heard about later in life, but I first heard that song as a punk song and then I went back and heard the original. It doesn’t matter how these things happen, the inspiration happens and then you can go from there. But Me First and The Gimme Gimmes were a huge gateway drug and I play “Cabaret” now every year at my festival. That’s why the festival is called Elsie Fest, because it covers the song.”

“Modern Nature” by Sondre Lerche

“One of the great joys of being a younger brother is that you get to inherit the music of your elders. My brother and I were both really proactive consumers of music, so we would share stuff with each other all the time. But then he would come home from college, which is like coming home from a music festival essentially, right? He was in a new time zone with new people, so he’d bring home these mix CDs that he’d made from people that he’d heard about, and he brings home this guy named Sondre Lerche.

“Hearing this guy blew my mind, because he also was using jazz chords and drawing on musical theatre. Musical theatre’s a massive category, so I can’t just say that musical theatre sounds like one thing, but when I say this, I’m referring to The American Songbook, the jazz standard songbook. “Modern Nature” was a duet that I would go on to play many times with one of my oldest musical collaborators, Charlene Kaye. When we got to college and we both found out that we loved this guy.

“There was a much more whimsical way to how he wrote these songs. And what’s crazy is that loving this guy meant that we also loved Rufus Wainwright, that we also loved these other artists. But Sondre was the first time I considered that I loved that type of music, but I didn’t know that you could be a singer/songwriter and put out music that sounded like it.

“I don’t know if ‘twee’ is the right word to use, but with “Modern Nature” there was a playfulness about it, and again, a musicality that I really gravitated towards. There is a through line - there was a sophistication that was accessible, and me trying to learn those songs did make me rethink the way that I was writing music. The structures were weird and different and I liked that.

“To this day, I find myself writing songs that I think might be difficult for people to ingest, because they’re a little too left of centre, and I realise that I’m trying to write like Sondre Lerche, or I’m unconsciously just copying him.”

“Everything Happens to Me” by Mr Hudson & The Library

“I was in an H&M in Stockholm when I was 21, and I heard this really cool groove and the lyric was “Why must I always play the clown?” It was sung with a really thick British accent, had an 808 feel on it, and lyrically it had an attitude. Who would say something that sounds so like you’re in a Gilbert & Sullivan musical, but it feels hard? It was cool.

“I went home and looked this up and it was off the record A Tale of Two Cities by Mr Hudson and the Library, which would really, really fuck me up. I bought the album immediately because I loved this song. I had to order it on the internet because I couldn’t find it. It was doing well in England and he was on the festival circuit in the early-mid 2000s, but the first song on the album was a musical theatre cover with 808s.

“It was a pared-down, sort of a hip-hop version of “On The Street Where You Live” from My Fair Lady, and I’m like ‘No fucking way, this guy gets where my head is.’ I’d thought about punk rock musical theatre, but I never thought about 808s and 909s scoring these beautiful songs. I go down the track list and he has “Everything Happens to Me”, which is another very famous standard, and he had this really cool, what we would now call chill-hop, ‘study beats’ version of this song. I was like, ‘This is it. This guy gets that good music is good music and you can reinterpret it to offer it as a new song.’

“I would later become great friends with Mr Hudson. I got to meet him years later when I was with Columbia Records, and they said to me ‘Who do you want to meet?’ He was at the top of my list. I went to London and we’ve been friends ever since and have created all kinds of music together.

“He told me a story where Tyler the Creator went up to him once at Coachella and said, ‘Oh man, “Everything Happens To Me”, that’s like my song.’ We both wondered if Tyler the Creator knew that it was a Chet Baker cover. And we were thinking how cool it is that you can offer these songs to a new audience through a different lens. Tyler’s a smart guy, he’s very cultured, and I’m sure he did know. But it’s more the idea that if someone experienced this song and didn’t know that it was a cover, and this is like the first time they ever get to experience it.

“Mr Hudson would go on to do his own thing with Kanye and was on 808s & Heartbreak and has had his own career. I think “Supernova” was a hit in the UK, it didn’t really cross over here to The States, but before that moment for him, that Mr Hudson and The Library album changed my life. People use that phrase willy-nilly, but this literally was a turning point in my life. It all had to do with the same thing that happened with these other songs, where I saw someone do what I always wanted to do but didn’t really know how to pull off. Where he had this fusing of old songs delivered through a contemporary lens, but also laced it with his own original material that also employed the things that made that old songwriting interesting.

“It’s like changing the font of a great essay but finding the font and figuring out that that font is its own art form. He really displayed that marvellously on this.”

The Masquerade EP is out now

[fanficsandfluff]

The Snyder Cut: Headcanons (mostly of the tickly nature)

Bruce Wayne (Batman) ~ Batfleck, my love

He’s such a lover boy, and I can say that though I don’t exactly know how to explain what I mean. You just gotta understand.

He cares so strongly about EVERYONE. e v e r y o n e. Alfred, fucking loves the guy, jokes with him. The fucking “This is Alfred, I work for him.” MY MAN, STOP!

I think he just really wants to get along with everyone and wants everyone to get along in general.

But he lowkey crushes on Diana (at least in his mind, he’s keeping it lowkey, but we all see what’s happening)

I love the idea of this big hunk of a man getting soft with someone like Diana. 

She makes him genuinely laugh this one time by saying something funny, and then they’re both laughing together. 

Bruce definitely has one of those laughs where he throws his head back and shit and you can see his like Adam’s apple bobbing and everything.

But that’s if he’s really laughing.

And he has loud “HA”’s that are like really short but loud and then he kinda just snickers to himself for a while, holding his stomach.

And dude, the scene in freaking uhh… i think it’s BvS I’m not 100% (maybe i fucking imagined it who knows) where she like comes over to him and is fixing his wound….. tickle scenario hand picked from the gods right there

I can see a whole, “Woah!” from Bruce when Diana traces her fingers on some sensitive skin. And that Gal Godot smile is on her in an INSTANT. 

Bruce will laugh if he’s with the right person. Like I headcanon that if he’s being tickled, he will laugh if it’s done by Diana or Barry, then like he’ll be forced to laugh if it’s Clark bc he overpowers the poor bat, but then he just has these hilarious bouts of angry growls and chuckles if Arthur is going after him. 

I can’t even write about Batfleck being a ler because I will literally explode, so I’m done here 

(((((butseriouslyifanyonewantstotalklerbatfleckwithmehmuplz)))))

Diana Prince (Wonder Woman) 

I know the GIF isn’t from ZSJL but just let me live, ok? (Also I couldn’t find the one of Gal wiggling her fingers YOU KNOW THE ONE I’M TALKING ABOUT)

First off, Gal is the most horrible queen of giggles. I’ve seen those blooper reels. My god, girl, how do you keep getting hired?

SHE HAS SUCH A BIG SMILE IT’S LIKE THE ROCK IDK HOW THEIR TEETH AND MOUTH GET SO WIDE LOOKING

Diana will start tickle fights without a doubt.

She’s already very trustful and I also feel pretty handsy with people, especially those she may feel close to. So if she’s playful, you best watch out.

Her favorite targets are Bruce and Barry. I will not take criticism. Diana attacking Barry and reducing him to panicky shrieky laughs is my #1 thought. It’s not even living rent free, I’m commissioning it to be there.

Diana is one to laugh with her victims. She will wreck them and have a great time doing so. 

She’ll be ticklish if she wants to be, but it isn’t often she gets pinned and tickled or anything like that.

The guys try to stay away from her or not go after her with tickles for fear of retaliation.

AQUAMAN, CYBORG, SUPERMAN, AND THE FLASH UNDER THE CUT

Arthur Curry (Aquaman)

So…. my man isn’t really ticklish. I really don’t think he is, I feel like his Atlantean genes make his skin a special kind of hard, if that makes sense?

THAT BEING SAID ARTHUR IS THE BIGGEST LER OMGGG

He’ll try and act all cool and ‘whatever’ around the League cuz that’s kind of his persona.

But he slowly gets to like them more and more and his playful side starts to come out.

He’ll tickle Barry out of pure annoyance. Like if Barry makes any kind of comment, he’ll just point his finger out and get that glint in his eye and Barry is sprinting for the hills.

Here’s my favorite headcanon: Arthur will tickle Bruce because he knows it pisses him off when he does it. Bruce will fight back and keep Arthur in his sights at all time and curse and growl at him. And Arthur thinks it’s hilarious.

Arthur as a ler will taunt and tease until the cows come home

“Huh, big guy? What’s that? Ahawww that’s what I thought!... Not so fast/tough/etc. now!... I will wreck you.”

Victor Stone (Cyborg)

Unfortunately… not ticklish. :(

But this boy has the sweetest laugh you will ever hear, and I will die on that hill. 

Now that he has friends (superpowered friends, no less), he can slowly come alive and be himself. 

I can see Victor not getting involved in tickle fights at first, but at a certain point he’ll be all like, “Okay, step aside so we can do this right” and just PIN THE SHIT OUT OF WHOEVER IS BEING TICKLED. His extra robot arms are killer!

Okay, when he laughs for the first time in front of the group, there’s that cliche moment of pause where everything stops and everyone just stares and listens to him. It’s so rare to hear him laugh because the poor kid barely even smiled around them in the beginning. 

He SMIRKS

Now hear me out on this…

Okay, so half a face. Great. Weird. We love it. But you can see all of mischievous Victor when the guy SMIRKS. You see his eye squint and you can swear his robot eye gets a gleam of a different color. 

Wait honestly as I was writing that, the thought of Victor’s eye and like his apparatus changing color based on his mood is golden.

Me sitting here, lowkey wishing Victor’s robot body had some kind of cuddly mode like Baymax lmfaoooo 

Like the defense mode his body went into when he was around resurrected Supes, but for cuddles and being cute.

Clark Kent (Superman)

I was debating even including any headcanons for Superman bc I don’t care about him much, honestly.

I am v happy they kept in the whole ‘him staring at Flash through the speed storm’ scene bc I laughed so hard at that the first time i saw Josstice League in the theater. 

Also I didn’t really like the black superman costume??? I’m not a comic buff, so I’m assuming that’s why. I am like the one person who missed the color from the Josstice League cut. Don’t miss the stupid red sky in the finale, but I miss every other ounce of color that was just SUCKED right out of the Snyder Cut.

Clark and Bruce are besties now, I don’t make the rules. Bruce bought the man his house back. By buying the bank. He’ll take care of him.

And I’ve always simped for those two ever since BvS, bc I’ve already written like two fics where they tickle each other. 

Clark overpowering Bruce to tickle the shit out of him makes me so happy lol. Big strong boy Batfleck looking thiccc over here… but put him against Superman and he’s donezo. Because as mentioned earlier, I do think Bruce is pretty ticklish. 

But Clark can have his lee side when he’s feeling nice

He’s got that mighty chuckle, almost like how Thor might laugh. 

And he really likes getting involved in tickle fights with the League. He knows all of them are sorta afraid of him on the daily anyway, but have that power added to a tickle fight and it’s fun as hell. 

He’s gotten taken down by them ONCE. And I mean exactly (1) O N C E.

They all teamed up. Bing, bang, boom. Pinned him to the floor and they each took an area of skin and fucking SQUEEZED AND WIGGLED. They were trying to incapacitate him as quickly as possible. And dangummit, he laughed a lot! Like Clark realized just how ticklish he could feel if he wanted to feel it. 

And don’t even get me started on Lois, he’s big on getting her to giggle and she likes toying with him and running her hands all over his body (bc who wouldn’t?)

Barry Allen (The Flash)

I waited to write about Barry last because I have so much to say about this character....

and then I fell asleep and waited until the next day to write anything down about him so now I’m totally not in the mood and I forgot all the salient points I was planning on making.

fuck you, michelle.

I got a weird relationship with this character. He was mad annoying in the Josstice League. Thank goodness they trimmed his bad jokes down.

But now....

when he got hurt at the end and he was like crying and shit oh my god I wanted to hug him

His character got so... good

And I’m now at the right age where I can think about myself in a relationship with this character with no changes or shame

We both out here trying to find that one good job after college and everything

BARRY JUST WANTS FRIENDS, GUYS

HE’S THAT CUTE

And then he got this whole found family schtick with the Justice League!!! Lookit him!!! Thriving!

He has total little brother energy

like, pesky little brother. Bothers everyone, looks over people’s shoulders while they’re deep in thought or concentrating on something.

Asks a lot of questions.

All the more reason for the gang to want to tickle the shit out of him.

Barry just reads like a super ticklish lee. Like his whole character.

Maybe touch starved because he said he needed friends, and I don’t think he has siblings??? (sorry if i’m wrong about that, comic fans)

I already named some of my fav headcanons about him getting tickled by like Diana and such, and I’m sticking with it.

Barry does flee. He runs away with super speed.... but sometimes he just kinda wants the tickles so he lets them have at him. 

The chase is all part of the fun with tickling Barry, though. That’s what makes it so entertaining. And Barry isn’t afraid to be a little shit about it either. He will super-speed around his pursuers and poke their sides and tickle them back really quickly before they even know what’s happening. 

Barry doesn’t exactly hold back his laughter lol. He’ll protest and scream and squirm like crazy, but once he’s actually tickled, he loses it.

Pure boy. With funny ass facial expressions.

And it really doesn’t help that I never realized just how hot Ezra Miller is, even though I heard he’s not a great person irl. Oh well.

THAT’S ALL FOLKS!

Please please let me know if y’all have things to add, to squee over, to question me about... please. anything. i’m here for you. thanks for reading, guys!

[patriciasage]

promises, promises

Author: Patricia_Sage

Fandom: The Adventure Zone - Balance

Summary: 

Taako made two promises to his sister early on in this seemingly endless mission. Firstly, he isn’t allowed to intentionally cut a cycle short, no matter how much time is left, no matter how much he misses her. Secondly, if she’s gone, he has to take care of Barry.

He isn’t sure what his sister was thinking with the second one. ‘Taako’ and ‘take care of’ are not words that naturally go together for anyone other than Lup. He loves the entire crew, of course he does, but he would rather kill for them than comfort them.

This is the first cycle where Lup is dead and neither Taako nor Barry had gone with her.

posted in full under the break but you can find me on AO3!!

There are two months left in the cycle and Lup is gone. She, Merle, and Davenport were poisoned during a political meeting.

Taako hadn’t been hungry that day. He wishes he would have taken a drink. Magnus hates when he says it, but he prefers to die by her side than live without her. And death would have been much more preferable to watching her choke and spasm in front of him. Helpless.

Lucretia has a lot on her plate now, attempting to negotiate with the bastards who killed them. There was death on both sides, since Taako literally burned the place to the ground. It seems as though they’re on the verge of war – the four remaining crewmembers versus this country’s royal armies.

Taako doesn’t give a shit.

“What’s the fucking point?” he asks Lucretia when she made plans to meet with the royal representative. “This cycle’s gone to Hell; let’s just go.”

“We have two months left,” Lucretia says. “We have a chance to work through this and get the Light. Then they didn’t die in vain.” Her voice cracks. Taako attempts to be gentle with his friend, even though rage flows through him like a roaring stream.

But quiet vitriol escapes his mouth. “Are they even worth saving?”

Lucretia looks at him with bright, brown eyes. “Taako.”

“They killed Merle and Davenport and Lup! And they should have killed me too. And we’re still going to bend over backwards in order to save them? They obviously wouldn’t do the same for us.”

“That’s not how this works,” Lucretia says, quiet and stern. “We don’t decide who is worth saving or not.” She places her dark hand on Taako’s shoulder. “I know you’re hurting, T. And I won’t make you be a part of this. But I’m going to try and get the Light of Creation. And you’re going to make it through these next few months to see her again.”

Taako could see her again right now if he wanted to. But he doesn’t say that. And he doesn’t let himself truly entertain the thought. He promised.

Everyone on the ship is grieving in their own way. Barry becomes entirely reclusive, locking himself in his lab. Magnus cries a lot over the first few days and blames himself for not being at the meeting to protect them, but then he focuses his energy into learning to pilot the Starblaster. Taako attempts to distract his mind from the grief that sits deep in his bones.

Knowing their deaths are temporary doesn’t make it hurt any less.

Magnus makes it his personal mission to take care of Taako, which is very annoying but also helps with his plan for distraction. He sits next to the Magnus as the fighter test-drives the ship. It’s hard to think about your dead sister when your friend is crashing a spaceship into a lake.

But Magnus isn’t only recklessness and aggressive enthusiasm. He’s also soft and sensitive – and fucking manipulative. He tells Taako he needs a hug or someone to keep him company when he sleeps. Taako knows these are partial lies. He knows that Magnus just wants to hold his pieces together, to shield Taako from the nightmares that tear him apart.

Taako travels through the days like molasses. He wants to exist in the bare minimum, avoid the smouldering flame threatening to burn him up. But it’s hard to exist, unfeeling, in a world where he’s always had her at his side. He can’t do anything without thinking of her.

He drinks too much.

It helps a little, but it causes Magnus to make that sad, helpless expression, so Taako hides it as best he can.

He made two promises to his sister early on in this seemingly endless mission. Firstly, he isn’t allowed to intentionally cut a cycle short, no matter how much time is left, no matter how much he misses her. Secondly, if she’s gone, he has to take care of Barry.

Taako isn’t sure what his sister was thinking with the second one. ‘Taako’ and ‘take care of’ are not words that naturally go together for anyone other than Lup. He loves the entire crew, of course he does, but he would rather kill for them than comfort them.

This is the first cycle where Lup is dead and neither Taako nor Barry had gone with her.

Food is always an effective way to build a bridge between two stubborn souls. Taako steps foot into the Starblaster’s kitchen for the first time since the disaster a few weeks ago. Lucretia is a passable cook, so the remaining crew haven’t been suffering too much, but her meals are nothing compared to the twins’ concoctions.

Absolutely everything on this ship reminds Taako of his sister (pretty much every aspect of existence reminds him of his sister), but the kitchen is particularly salient. He stands in the doorway and breathes through it, thankful that no one is around. Lup is the only one who knows him at his core, the only one who’s ever seen his soft, fragile centre. Magnus has been digging closer and closer every cycle with his big hands and even bigger smile. But there’s no one Taako trusts like he trusts Lup.

And she’s gone.

And he made her a promise.

There are so many lakes on this world. Taako had spent most of springtime fishing and filleting, so the freezer is full. He takes out a few cuts of cod, expertly deboned, as well as some salt, pepper, lemon, chili powder, and dill. He starts the rice boiling and thaws the fish with a flick of his wand. The meat hasn’t been frying for too long before Magnus and Lucretia appear at the kitchen table, summoned by the smell. They’re looking at him with an irritating mixture of encouragement and wariness. He ignores them and focuses on cooking. He’s mentally batting away memories and feelings constantly and it’s starting to take a toll.

The kitchen is silent except for the sizzle of fish in the pan and the soft murmur of boiling rice. Taako transmutes some beans into asparagus and tosses that in the pan as well.

“Fucking talk,” he says to the stove.

Magnus startles into conversation. Taako feels his friends’ gazes move away from his back and toward each other. He focuses on their chat even though it’s boring. It’s easier than fighting his heart’s insistent ache.

He avoids looking at their faces while he places their meals in front of them. “Thank you,” Lucretia says softly. Magnus places a big, warm hand on the wizard’s shoulder.

Taako feels his mouth press into a shadow of a smile. He squeezes Magnus’s hand and steps away. “Dig in. I’m gonna bring some to the lab rat.”

Barry is asleep at his desk, drooling on a sketch of one of his prototypes. Taako sets the plate down next to him and watches the smell wake him up. His glasses are askew even when he lifts his head.

There’s an awful moment when he looks at Taako and his face softly lights up. Taako’s stomach sinks, and then Barry comes fully into awareness and looks away. Taako regrets shaving his face his morning and he regrets wearing his hair up the way Lup usually does before bed. He doesn’t blame Barry for the disappointment.

“This is good shit, so you’d better not let it get cold,” Taako says. He leans against the workbench with his arms crossed.

“Smells good,” Barry replies with his characteristic, gruff awkwardness. Taako tries not to fidget. The chill of Lup’s absence is strongest in the kitchen, but it’s swirling around the lab, too. It’s typical to see Lup sprawled on the couch pretty much every evening, chattering while Barry tries and fails to focus on his work.

Barry puts a forkful of rice in his mouth and speaks around it. Gross. “Did you eat already?”

Taako is absentmindedly surprised when he realizes he hasn’t eaten anything except a bite of toast that Magnus practically shoved in his mouth this morning. He curses himself for thinking about it too long and ruining what could have been a perfectly good lie. “Yep, sure did.”

“Taako…” Barry says disapprovingly, lowering his fork.

“Get outta my ass, Barry. I’m, like, a hundred years old, or something.” Age doesn’t mean much to them, anymore. “Don’t treat me like a child.”

“I’m not treating you like a child. I’m treating you like – ” He sighs. “Do you have some left over upstairs?”

“Yeah,” Taako lies. He walks toward the door. “Gonna go eat now, so…enjoy, or whatever.”

Barry rubs his eyes under his glasses. “Thanks, Taako.”

“Shit,” Taako mutters as he climbs the stairs. Why didn’t Lup tell Magnus or Lucretia to take care of Barry? Hell, anyone would do a better job than him.

Taako enters the now empty kitchen and casts Prestidigitation to clean the dishes, but he stops before he can leave for the upper deck. There’s a full plate of food on the table. It’s obvious that Magnus and Lucretia had each put half of their meal onto a clean plate. They’re taking advantage of his inability to throw away food, engrained from his childhood. Taako sighs but sits at the table to eat. He feels more solid when he’s done, but just as empty.

The next day is better.

“Come for a walk,” Taako demands from Barry’s bedroom doorway. Barry yelps and covers his chest with a blanket.

“Taako!”

“Come for a walk!” the elf repeats, leaving the door ajar as he leaves.

Barry joins him on the Starblaster’s lower deck in a few minutes, hair messy but fully clothed. “Where are we going?”

Before Taako has a chance to respond, Magnus rushes in. “Don’t forget your cloak – it’s kinda cold. Oh, hey, Barry. You coming with us?”

“I guess I am.”

“Great!”

Magnus hands Barry his denim jacket and throws Taako’s thicker cloak in his direction. The security officer himself is wearing a wool-lined vest with no sleeves. Taako resists the urge to roll his eyes when he notices.

The men don’t talk a lot as they traverse the path that Magnus and Taako have worn down over the last few weeks. They skip rocks on the surface of the still water. Barry stays far away from the water’s edge. Magnus picks Taako up and pretends he’s about to throw him in. Instead of protesting, Taako looks the man in the eyes with a challenge. “Do it. I fucking dare you, Burnsides.” Magnus freezes and just stands there holding the elf in his arms for a moment. Taako smirks. “That’s what I thought.”

Barry disappears into his lab when they return to the ship, but Taako still considers it a success. After a few days, Barry no longer needs to be woken up; he joins them in the foyer, sleepy but ready, every morning. Lucretia comes, too, when she’s not out negotiating.

Taako cooks when he can.

Sometimes he’s good. Sometimes the air of the kitchen suffocates him. Barry sees him once, standing in the pantry, frozen and overwhelmed. “Hey,” he says. There’s something soft and complex in his expression when Taako whirls around.

“What’s up, my man?” Taako’s voice breaks more than usual. The stiffness of his hands betrays him, too. Barry beckons him out of the pantry. Taako follows quietly as the scientist travels to the Starblaster’s upper deck.

The endless night sky is strangely comforting. There aren’t many constants in their life besides each other, their target, and their enemy. But the sky is always there and ready to take them away.

Barry opens a hatch near the centre of the deck and brings out what looks like a piece from a broken chair. “Ready?” he asks.

“What?”

Barry just nods and then throws the item high into the air. Taako understands when it reaches his highest peak, but he can’t bring himself to take out his wand. The piece of wood falls into a nearby like with a soft splash.

“Oh, sorry,” Barry says awkwardly. “You’re supposed to hit it with a spell –”

“I know what I’m supposed to do, Barry. I’ve lived with her my whole life,” Taako snaps. He takes a breath and tries again. “Look, I appreciate what you’re trying to do here, man. But that’s her. She feels things build up inside and needs to let ‘em out in a way she can control. But I- …I’m not full of anything.” He turns to leave. “So, thanks, dude, but this isn’t gonna work for me.”

Barry grabs his wrist. “Taako, wait!” He looks a little helpless. “Then what does work for you? Tell me.”

“I don’t know.”

“Come on.” Barry attempts a smile but he’s shivering a little in the night air. “Like you said to me the other day – you’re over a hundred years old. You know. So, tell me what makes you feel better when you feel like shit so I can help you out.”

“I don’t want your fucking help, Barry.”

“Well, that’s too damn bad!” Barry rarely raises his voice. It echoes across the empty deck and is swallowed by the night sky. “Tell me, Taako.”

He knows the answer will hurt both of them when it leaves his mouth, but he says it anyway. “Being with her.” Barry averts his gaze and Taako feels both sick and triumphant. “Just…being in her company makes me feel like a person again. So. Unless you can do that for me, I think we’re done here.”

Taako stands outside Magnus’s bedroom door for a few minutes. He raises his hand to knock then lowers it again. He spends the night on a nearby dock, listening to the waves lap against the shore and slowly emptying a bottle of rum.

The next morning, they pretend it didn’t happen. They go for their morning walk and let Magnus carry the conversation.

Lucretia gets the Light of Creation against all odds – and just in time. There’s only about two days left in this Cycle. Taako makes her favourite dish, piri piri chicken, and they allow themselves to celebrate with wine and music. It never feels completely right to celebrate, knowing the Hunger is still going to cause a lot of damage, but they need to allow themselves these small successes. The men also feel the need to show appreciation to Lucretia, since she worked tirelessly to save this world while they went for walks and crashed the ship into lakes.

Magnus is dancing with Lucretia in the kitchen and Taako makes a quick exit before the big man can trap him in another embrace. He finds Barry on the couch, lost in thought. He sits down beside him, touching their wine glasses together in a small toast. “We made it,” the wizard says before taking another drink.

“Yeah,” Barry says. They’re both thinking the same thing. They’ll see her again soon.

Barry turns to face him. “Listen, Taako, I’m sorry I was so pushy the other night.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“It’s just…” Barry sighs. “I promised her I’d take care of you and I –”

“What?” Taako interrupts. They look at each other, incredulous and inquiring. “She made me promise to take care of you, dude.”

Barry smiles and laughs. Taako fumes. As if Barry Bluejeans could take care of him – what was she thinking? “We both did kind of a shit job, didn’t we?” Barry says.

“Hey, without me you would’ve starved to death.”

“Yeah, that’s fair.”

A few days later, Magnus flies the Starblaster through the Hunger’s advancing tendrils, their bodies fragment, and the entire crew materializes in their set places. Before Lup can even take a breath, Taako shoves her hard. “What the fuck?” she sputters. He silences her with a hug.

The IPRE crew puts the past behind them and they settle into a new life on a new world. Barry and Lup go back to their routine of being attached at the hip and stubbornly not talking about their feelings. Lup and Taako cook and practice magic together. Barry and Taako aren’t close, per se, but they tolerate each other in a new, honest and kind way.

It’s worth it to see the smile on Lup’s face.

[mimik-u]

“Snow Day” Thoughts:

Omg, Steven and I roughly wake up around the same time in the mornings. On weekdays, I drag my tired ass out of bed at seven, so I can have a few extra hours to myself to write and drink coffee before school and work.

Omg, I also drink a breakfast drink in the morning in lieu of eating breakfast. Wtf

AWH, the cheeseburger backpack!!! Remember when he was so excited to get it in the mail? 😭😭

SKSJSJS @ Garnet packing Cat Steven.

Omg, the Gems are in full mom mode, and I really love it. I’m tender. Steven is so bemused, though, lmao.

“Wait for us. We can head over together.” 😭 I’m going to be using this emoji a lot during this episode, okay?

“Yeah! Go get ‘em!” The Gems all place a hand on Steven’s head, and Steven scowls. 😭

No thoughts, only 😭.

“Surprise! We were sitting in the dark!” They were waiting on the couch for him!! Awhwhwhwhwhwhwhwh.

Do y’all remember back in S1 when the Gems were constantly leaving Steven behind to go on missions, when they were somewhat emotionally unavailable, when Steven slowly but gradually taught them how to play?? 😭

Awh, man, Steven. The gems are trying so hard to simply hang out with you, but you know, I get it. I think something about Future that’s really allowed me to empathize with Steven more than ever this series is that, well, he’s reminding me what it feels like to be sixteen. In and of itself, it’s a hella tense time. You’re navigating what it means to be on the precipice of adulthood while, really, you’re still just a kid in a lot of ways. You’re trying to reconcile the parts of your childhood that didn’t make sense, and well, sometimes hurt, and that manifests in ways you could never expect. You’re driving for the first time and gaining new friends, enjoying some newfound independence, but at the same time, you can be prone to moodiness. Hormones changing. The stress of school and extracurricular activities. You love your family, but in carving out your own identity, or, well, trying to figure it out in the first place, it’s far easier to push them away sometimes when you get stuck in your own head. Of, course, there’s no monolithic experience to being a teenager, but factor in some of these common struggles with Steven’s entire complex, which requires him to stress out over the tiniest details due to ingrained trauma, then, well, you haven’t got an excuse, but you absolutely have an explanation.

It’s so hard to be a teenager; it must be really hard to be a teenager with superpowers and a hell of a lot of unresolved baggage.

Does anyone know if there’s a meta reason Steven’s alarm is 7:13, lmao? That’s such an arbitrary number.

TOGETHER BREAKFAST. HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

The callback to that particular episode is really on point. In “Together Breakfast,” it was Steven who was trying to get the Crystal Gems to hang out with him, so he wouldn’t have to eat his pancakes alone. 😭

“Ooh, we can re-read No Home Boys.” / “And I’ll do all the voices.” 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Another fitting callback. The theme of No Home Boys was, well, the main characters didn’t have a home, an anxiety that Amethyst above all used to metaphorically espouse. But then, with Pearl and Steven’s help, she came to realize that, yes, she did have a home. She’s always had a home. And it was never the Kindergarten.

“Man, you had a better work-life balance when the Diamonds were trying to destroy the planet.” SKDJDJDJS.

“Classic Steven.” / “Classic Steven????????” || And here’s the gist of the episode. The Gems are nostalgic for the way things used to be, for the things that Steven used to like, for the child he once was. They want to play with him. Steven loved to play sm. But Steven doesn’t want to go backwards; he thinks he’s put away his childhood and all that it ever entailed.

But really, I think this episode is going to school Steven in one of the most important lessons that’s so easy to forget in the daily grind of life: It’s okay to still be a kid sometimes, no matter your age, no matter your maturity.

PEARL DRAMATICALLY FALLING WHEN SHE GETS TAGGED JS SO FUCKING FUNNY ROEOEOFKDSMSKKSIFCIFIS.

“Ha! Jokes on you! Pearl doesn’t shapeshift—” OH MY GO D. PEARL IS SHAPESHIFTIN G

THE DEVELOPMENT????????? THE EVOLUTION!!!!?????

(The last time Pearl shapeshifted, it was to try and bring an end to a war. It was for her Diamond. It was for Rose. This time, it’s for Steven. It’s for helping him to re-learn what it means to play.)

STEVEN IN PEARL’S PALETTE LOOKS SO WRONG. HELP.

Knowing what a big step it is for Pearl to shapeshift, Amethyst and Garnet go and throw her in the air. Even Steven murmurs, “Wow, good for her.”

I’M TENDER. 😭😭😭

That one shot of Garnet holding a frame up to pretend like she’s a picture is very funny.

“Steven, no! I just folded those!” WOOWWOSJSJSJSKSJSJJSSN. HELP. I love Pearl.

SUGILITE STEVEN?!!!???!?))3$:$&:8:&:

HELLO?!!!!?!!!

(Omg, I think with Sugilite now, we’ve pretty much seen all the main CG fusions in Future except for Obsidian, Sardonyx, and Opal.)

SCRATCH THAT! SARDONYX STEVEN.

OPAL STEVEN.

HELP?!/&39:8:’skskssksksk

OPAL USING GARNET AS AN ARROW DOROEODKSKSKSJS.

Related but unrelated, Sugilite, Sardonyx, and Opal’s themes have always been so good, omg.

“It was a snowman. With Steven’s jacket.” Garnet collapses dramatically to the ground. “NOOOOOOOOOOO.” OWOWOEODJDDJDJMSSKJSSJ.

ALEXANDRITE STEVEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Her theme is so good, too, omg.)

RUBY AND SAPPHIRE STEVEN??? THEY’RE SO ADORABLE???????????

SAPPHIRE HELP DOEOWEOSMDJDIOEOENDMDNSDJDNIDDJDJJDDOSKSOSIDJDODI.

I love Cat Steven with my entire heart

“He’s so cute!!!” / “No, I’m not.” WOSKDNSKSSKSJ HELP

But Steven also makes a salient point: He’s not the same kid that he was anymore, and he doesn’t want to be seen as that kid.

UGH, THE GEMS HUGGING HIM AS STEVEN. It’s here we most get the sense of how small he used to be. He’s grown up so much.

“Please forgive us.” / “We didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.” / “We just miss you, Steven.” HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

😭😭😭😭

AND THEN THEY ALL PLAY TOGETHER. STOP. ImM GONNA CRY

AND THEN THE NEXT DAY, THEY ALL GO TO SCHOOL TOGETHER. I CANT DO THIS. I LOVE THIS FSMILY

No final thoughts, only 😭😭😭😭.

This might be my favorite episode in the season so far.

[prairiesongserial]

15.7

Johannes had wedged himself back into the cab of the truck after Val left, sitting in the passenger seat and decidedly not sulking. After a minute of fidgeting, first tapping his fingers on the door, then twisting his rings, he had found a pack of cards in the glove box to entertain himself with. He was in the midst of setting up a game of solitaire on the dashboard when Enis knocked on the window and scared the shit out of him.

“I got the door to the garage open,” Enis said, raising his voice and enunciating just enough to be heard clearly through the glass. “There’s nobody in there.”

Johannes swept the cards on the dashboard back into the deck. “But they’ve got what you need to fix the brakes?”

“Yeah,” Enis said. “And we can leave a note or something. Letting them know I borrowed some tools.”

“Great,” Johannes said. “Then get fixing.”

Enis made a face at him through the window. Johannes sighed, opened the door, and hopped out - more for ease of conversation than anything, though it was getting hot in the truck. He stretched, wincing at a pop in one of his shoulders as his arms extended over his head.

“What,” he said, when Enis kept making the face.

“Can you park the truck in the garage?” Enis asked.

Johannes frowned. “You can’t bring a toolbox out here?”

“It’s way easier if I can use the jacks they��ve got in there,” Enis said. “And you’ve got the keys. And it’ll take you less than a minute to get in the driver’s seat and park the fucking truck in the garage.”

“Language,” Johannes said, mostly teasing.

Enis gave him a look that very much resembled one of Ezra’s. The kind of look that said You’ve seen the kind of day I’ve had, are you really going to start something with me? And he made a salient point, Johannes would give him that.

“Sure,” Johannes said, and dug into his pants pocket for the keys. “I’ll just park the fucking truck, then.”

Johannes was most of the way through backing the truck up into the garage where Enis wanted it when the bell began to ring. He thought it was a bell, anyway. It was a sharp, clear sound not unlike the warning sirens he’d heard in other towns, sirens that meant a particularly bad storm or a dangerous pack of muties was about to roll in. Unnerving to hear when no one appeared to be in town to ring a bell, much less identify a threat that would’ve made the bell worth ringing.

“What the hell is that?” Enis yelled, from somewhere in the garage.

“Warning bell, I think,” Johannes yelled back, out the driver’s side window. He was inching the truck backwards carefully, barely accelerating, with one hand ready to pull the emergency brake once it was in place.

“Warning for what?”

“How the fuck should I know?” Johannes asked. “Maybe someone saw the muties go past.”

A shadow moved in the corner of his eye, coming around the corner and into the garage, and Johannes instinctively yanked the emergency brake so hard it hurt. He swore under his breath, massaging the twinging joints in his wrist with his other hand, and tried to force his heart back out of his throat as he realized the shadowy figure he’d seen was just Val. Val, who was now pulling the metal shutter of the garage door down with a grim look of determination on his face - what little of his face Johannes could see from the truck, anyway.

“Val?” Enis asked, and received no answer.

“Preacher,” Johannes said, yanking the keys from the ignition and hopping down from the driver’s seat. “You mind telling us what the hell is going on?”

Apparently Val did mind. He was silent as he finished pulling the garage door to the ground, and wandered away to walk the perimeter of the space, eyes darting around in search of something. Johannes watched as Val apparently found what he was looking for and began to drag a metal shelf away from the wall, scattering tools and parts to the floor. The metal legs of the shelf scraped and shrieked against the concrete, but Val tugged it with him resolutely, moving it inch by inch until he could lean it right up against the garage door he’d just closed.

“Val,” Johannes began, vastly more bemused this time, “what in the good God damn -”

“Children,” Val huffed, leaning forward with his hands braced on his knees.

Johannes raised his eyebrows silently. He’d hoped it would invite some kind of explanation, but Val simply finished dragging the shelf over and started towards another, apparently intending to build a proper barricade in front of the garage door.

“I wasn’t aware you hated children this much,” Johannes said wryly. He wasn’t sure if this was a situation that called for jokes, but until Val was kind enough to indicate what the situation did call for, the conversational options were few and far between.

“There are kids around here?” Enis asked. He was raising the truck up on a jack, apparently largely unconcerned with the pieces of furniture and shelving Val was dragging around the garage.

“A pack of them,” Val said. His voice was toneless but not quite even, like he was forcing calm into it rather than staying naturally casual. “They snuck up on me. I was looking for peaches.”

“Did you find any?” Johannes asked.

Val grunted. “Not peach season.”

“So you found a pack of feral children instead.”

“Not feral,” Val said, still dragging the cabinet with him. “Pretty well socialized, actually. But then they set off the bell -”

“The kids set off the bell?” Enis asked.

“Jesus, preacher, how bad did you scare them?” Johannes asked. The bell was still clanging away outside, the shrill noise audible even through the metal door of the garage.

“I didn’t,” Val said, exasperated. “I barely even talked to them.”

“Were their parents around?” Enis’s voice drifted out from where he’d slid under the truck, presumably to start on the repairs. “Because I haven’t seen anybody -”

Val shook his head. “No.”

“So what the fuck is the bell for, then?” Johannes glanced upwards towards the garage windows, as if dialing in on the source of the noise would provide any solutions whatsoever.

“Attracting the muties,” Val said, like it was obvious. He’d gotten the other shelf over to the garage door, and tipped it onto its side, laying it lengthwise on the ground at the bottom of the door. Heaps of tools clattered to the ground. “Why the fuck do you think I’m barricading the door?”

15.6 || 15.8

[rastronomicals]

10:32 AM EDT August 16, 2024:

Robin Trower - "Messin' The Blues" From the album Long Misty Days (October 1976)

Last song scrobbled from iTunes at Last.fm

So: after 1983's Back It Up, James Dewar retires as the voice of the Robin Trower Band. But Robin of course wants to keep playing, so he hires a guy named Dave Bronze to sing for him and to play bass. And I'm sure Dave Bronze is a nice enough guy, but to say that he doesn't have the baritone presence of either Dewar or Jack Bruce would be a little of an understatement.

It is against this background that I tell you how my buddy and I went to see Trower in the late '80's, as the guitarist was touring off either Passion or Take What You Need.

My buddy is thinking how great it would be to have an autograph of Mr. Trower, but the other salient fact is that my buddy was not a vinyl guy; he was a cassette tape guy. I told you this was the '80's, right?

So he does what's required and makes a special trip to the record store to try and buy some Trower on vinyl, so he can take it to the show and have the guitarist sign it.

But then as it turns out, said record store doesn't have any Trower on vinyl--all it has on vinyl is The Best of Procol Harum. Certainly not ideal, but hey, he'd made the trip and he wanted to have something for Trower to sign, and Trower DID play on many of the cuts, so, no doubt thinking about our imperfect universe, my friend buys The Best of Procol Harum.

So we get out to the show, and Dave Bronze ain't James Dewar, but Robin remains Robin, and it's pretty fucking great, even if the songs from Passion are perhaps a little too obviously poppy. And my buddy's clutching his Procol Harum record throughout.

And then afterward, he sees a small throng forming stage right, and he's like, that's where I'm going, and I'm like, I'll be outside.

I'm through my beer and into a second one outside when he stumbles up to me with a sour expression on his face. And it turns out there were a bunch of people queuing up, but Trower never opened the stage door-although Dave Bronze did. So with much the same feeling that he must have had when he bought the Procol Harum record, my friend exercised the limited option he had available to him, and had Dave Bronze--who most likely never even MET Keith Reid or Gary Brooker--sign his copy of The Best of Procol Harum.

1/12/24 EDIT: Oh shit, looks like Dave Bronze was actually a member of Procol Harum! Trower rejoined Brooker and Reid for a 1991 album and he brought Dave with him. Point still remains, I'd think.

[queen-of-bel]

Ahhh thank you!! I 1000% agree (੭ ˃̣̣̥ ㅂ˂̣̣̥)੭ु The law route is well-written... but.. at what cost.....

My first experience with the game was the original version and, putting aside my own bias and love for Naoya’s route, I noticed that Devil Survivor is honestly a pretty anti-law game. The concept of angels is first brought up when Shoji says she witnessed them giving orders to SDF troops. In this same conversation, she tells Yuzu that God and the angels aren’t on humanity’s side. From that day forward, various characters voice their resentment towards God and the angels. Atsuro calls the angels and God self-righteous for bringing about the ordeal, Honda notes that the angels will kill anyone who doesn’t align with their will (at one point, even scoffing “Some god!” in contempt), etc. etc...

So having Kazuya suddenly side with the angels to become the Messiah? Felt a bit incongruent to what the game had been presenting to the player up until that point. I really love the dialogue option of Kazuya telling Naoya that “[his] hatred knows no bounds” because I feel like that just fits the game’s theme so well. 

My personal headcanon for years regarding the law route was that Kazuya awakened to his memories as Abel after gathering enough Bel powers (Abel, Beldr, and Belial). We know it’s possible for Kazuya’s memories to awaken because this is what Sariel and Anael try to do on Naoya’s 7th day. So once Kazuya has his memories as Abel, he chooses to become the messiah purely to spite and hurt Cain.

Of course, then I played Overclocked, and... well, let’s just say that my headcanon no longer holds up with the addition of the 8th days.

Still, I really wish that Amane’s 8th day had explored that dialogue option in some capacity. A sub-route split, just as Naoya’s 8th day had, perhaps? One where you just tell Naoya to “fuck off” and find some other way of dealing with Okuninushi?

Ahhh, but I’m rambling.

Anyway, yes. Devil Survivor is a pretty anti-law game. When the game originally came out, the writers said that they viewed the Gin/Haru route as the “true” ending to the game. They said it’s got that “feel-good” kind of ending, and the player is able to pick up the most party members. I think it’s fair to say that Naoya’s no-kill ending is the “true” ending of Overclocked for those very same reasons. Either way, neither the original game nor Overclocked has a law bias to it. 

Even Amane, the law rep of this game, doesn’t even like the angels that much. She shows regret in her 7th day epilogue and is actually the happiest in Naoya’s ending. (but I have a completely separate post for that discussion...).

I really think Devil Survivor did a great job at portraying God and the angels as the antagonists in this story. Practically everything about them, from their rationale to their solutions, were just unsettling and felt wrong to me. That’s why I think it’d be great if Abel only became the Messiah to get revenge on Cain. Revenge is also a salient theme that you see throughout a lot of the Devil Survivor characters-- Naoya, Mari, Kaido, Keisuke... To think that Kazuya/Abel would also join the “I have an enemy in my life that I must destroy” club at all costs, completely disregarding humanity’s wellbeing in the process? Love it....

[racingtoaredlight]

THE DEGENERATE’S GUIDE TO COLLEGE FOOTBALL TV WATCH ‘EM UPS 2021: WEEK TWO, A MUDDLED AND MAUDLIN WEEK OF MAYHEM IN HONOR OF THOSE WE LOST

RTARL would like to extend our warmest holiday wishes to those who celebrate and, even if you don’t, happy 9/11. Now who’s ready for some FOOTBALL!!!!?!?!

So after two weeks of games that combine to count as only one official week even though some teams have already played twice we have only one real question answered: is Alabama still good? Yes, they are. Everything else is still liquefying vapor.

I am assuming everybody is waiting with baited breath for an RTARLsman but I don’t have anything yet. I guess the not-Master Teague RBs on Ohio State are the frontrunners for now. Or that one guy from that one team who was good. You know who I mean.

Saturday, September 11

Matchup    Time (ET)     TV/Mobile

Illinois at Virginia   11:00am   ACCN

Jeff George won Citrus Bowl MVP for the Illini against the Hoos in his last game as a student athlete before becoming the #1 overall pick in the 1990 NFL Draft. Based on this history it is safe to presume that whoever the QB is for Illinois today will be the #1 pick in 2022.

VMI at Kent State   11:30am   ESPN3

I’m not sure on this but maybe this game is cancelled.

WKU at Army    11:30am   CBSSN

Army is favored by 6. I bet this game is boring.

Norfolk State at Wake Forest    12:00pm   ACCNX

I don’t see a line listed but whatever it is bet against Wake covering.

Indiana State at Northwestern     12:00pm    BTN

This game is an act of terrorism.

Alabama State at 25 Auburn     12:00pm    SECN

Real body bag season starts today, huh?

Youngstown State at Michigan State  12:00pm   BTN

The Michigan State running back is the guy I was trying to think of earlier! He’s pretty good. Not good enough to make me watch this but I will check on his stats every so often.

Tulsa at Oklahoma State   12:00pm   FS1

I bet Mike Gundy has some really salient thoughts on the 20th anniversary of 9/11 and I can’t wait to hear them.

South Carolina at East Carolina   12:00pm      ESPN2

South Carolina is a two point favorite against an East Carolina team that is, per my understanding, not exactly good. So I can only extrapolate that South Carolina is likewise not good.

Pitt at Tennessee  12:00pm   ESPN

Look, I’m not going to pretend this is good television but if Pitt rocks their classic yellow helmets and Tennessee wears non-alternates the colors on the screen will at least be pleasing. The thought of the actual football involved hurts my brain but it’s interesting that the points have gone from a consensus pick ‘em to Pitt -3 over the course of the week. Does Tennessee have any players that are good enough that by missing the game they could impact the gambling that much? Or are people just squaring themselves with the fact the the Vols are really and truly a ruined burnt out hole of a football program? Pound the latter.

12 Oregon at 3 Ohio State  12:00pm   FOX

Losing Kayvon Thibideaux certainly isn’t going to help Oregon but he’s not usually on the field as a run stopper anyway and if Ohio State learned anything last week it’s that they can just run until they feel like throwing a pass. Oregon actually has some legit talent on the d-line besides Thibideaux but the Ducks are gonna be hard-pressed to keep things within two scores here.

Miami (Ohio) at Minnesota   12:00pm   ESPN

If Oregon can’t make a game of it in Columbus look out because this time block is an absolute wasteland. There is scant reason to turn the TV on for the early schedule other than gambling purposes.

Kennesaw State at Georgia Tech   12:00pm    RSN/ESPN3

Georgia Tech probably should have closed up shop after Paul Johnson retired. Either that or just absolutely slathered the football program in dollars. The Yellow Jackets being unable to land any big time recruits while playing in Atlanta is a real mindfuck. They aren’t a AA program playing dress up in a “power” conference they’ve got actual history. I don’t mean to give the impression I want them to be good but I don’t understand how they can be such fodder for so long.

13 Florida at USF    1:00pm    ABC

Remember that year when USF was the best program in the state? Wild stuff. Weird, wild stuff. I know the deal with UF is that they don’t go out of state for contract games but it’s actually kind of surprising they even bothered to keep this trip to Tampa on the schedule. Like the area recruits would probably be happier to go see a game at The Swamp than to kick around their hometown for a pile of shit like this.

Wyoming at NIU    1:30pm   ESPN+

I’m not gonna open the ESPN app for this but if it was on ESPN2 I’d probably check in on it during commercials. Aesthetically pleasing trash with an upside for actual entertainment.

Middle Tennessee at 19 Virginia Tech    2:00pm   ACCNX

Virginia Tech’s home crowd scene was the normie story of last week’s games. People that don’t watch college football were either aghast or frantically waving their blue lives matter flags in response. Us in this space just ate the shame and forgot it happened by the time Saturday’s games kicked off. My theory is that VPI is not actually any good but UNC’s 2020 season was a well-timed fluke and the last hurrah of Mack Brown’s storied coaching career. The Hokies are at home, though, and MTSU is almost certainly not on the same athletic level as the Turkey Gobblers so I’d probably take the home team -20 if I were so inclined to wager on this particular game that is being broadcast on the ACC’s new pornography channel.

Rutgers at Syracuse    2:00pm    ACCN

Holy fuck does this game suck. Reuniting former Big East, uh, rivals (??? does Rutgers have any natural enemies?) in a cross-conference classic betwixt the B1G and the ACC.

Duquesne at Ohio   2:00pm   ESPN3

I don’t think I need to explain to you all the national title implications riding on this game.

Toledo at 8 Notre Dame    2:30pm     Peacock

Just remember that if you subscribe to Peacock you are at the very least tacitly supporting Notre Dame. If for some reason you’re watching this please report back on how many of those defensive pick plays Notre Dame runs. They were doing that shit constantly against Florida State last week and it drove me nuts. I think the idea is that you are so flagrantly illegal so often that the refs grow numb to it and just don’t call it at all.

Robert Morris at Central Michigan     3:00pm    ESPN3

Not to be outdone by the early games, the 3 o’clock set is equally terrible.

Purdue at UConn    3:00pm    CBSSN

I bet Edsall still gets bonuses for stupid shit even now that he’s retired or whatever the official designation was for him no longer coaching.

Boston College at UMass    3:30pm    FloFootball/NESN+

I don’t know what FloFootball is but I know it isn’t anything to do with the state of Florida.

Ball State at 11 Penn State    3:30pm    FS1

It surprises me to see Penn State as only -22.5 favorites. That seems very kind to Ball State. Hopefully I’m wrong and the Ball State Lettermans take it to the Sanduskys.

Murray State at 7 Cincinnati    3:30pm    ESPN+

Practice week continues.

Temple at Akron    3:30pm    ESPN+

Pound the under.

Georgia Southern at Florida Atlantic   3:30pm   Stadium

There is really nothing going on this week.

Air Force at Navy   3:30pm   CBS

Middies vs. Fly Boys in the first leg of the Commander’s Cup on the twentieth anniversary of 9/11. I can’t imagine the amount of emotional manipulation that’s going to make its way onto this broadcast. Normally I watch these games but I don’t think I can do it this year.

UAB at 2 Georgia    3:30pm    ESPN2

Georgia may well be absurdly talented on the defensive side of the ball but I’d be surprised to see them make it through the regular season with fewer than two losses.

5 Texas A&M at Colorado     3:30pm     FOX

This is only interesting if the Aggies spring a leak.

California at TCU    3:30pm    ESPNU

Things most certainly are not looking up.

Buffalo at Nebraska    3:30pm    BTN

Nebraska is in an interesting position because if they buck the odds and end up being good after we’ve all been so ready to see a National Championship-winning coach get fired that would be funny but if they end up being really bad it’s even funnier. Go Bulls!

Mercer at 1 Alabama    4:00pm   SECN

I’ll cry a little if Saban pulls the starters in the first half and the Tide beats Mercer by less than they beat Miami.

South Alabama at Bowling Green   4:00pm    ESPN+

10 Iowa at 9 Iowa State    4:30pmABC

This is not the kind of top 10 matchup I can just sit idly by and let it happen. Your silence is complicity in this monstrous display of modernity.

SC State at 6 Clemson    5:00pm      ACCN

Clemson dropped all the way to #6 and they’ll hang around the top of the polls because they don’t have the toughest conference schedule in the world but my confidence in them is not high right now. I think the new QB is just a guy. He’s talented as hell but I don’t see him being great.

Illinois State at Western Michigan     5:00pm   ESPN3

This is either MACtion or MACtion adjacent and I have only one word for this midwestern trash: abhorrent.

LIU at West Virginia   5:00pm    ESPN+

LIU plays football?

Lamar at UTSA      6:00pm    ESPN3

Downside: You’re watching one of the least important games of the year. Upside: You’re really not missing anything.

Portland State at Washington State    6:00pm    P12N

Washington State was a perfect spot for the stupid pirate fuckhead and his leaving has ruined the program and, eventually, his reputation. Not relevant to this game necessarily but this game isn’t relevant to anything else, either.

Gardner-Webb at Charlotte   6:00pm    ESPN3

Oh, yeah, feel the excitement.

Bethune-Cookman at UCF   6:30pm   ESPN+

Go Cats.

NC Central at Marshall    6:30pm    ESPN+

The hits keep coming.

Houston at Rice   6:30pm    CBSSN

I’ve always had a soft spot for Holgo and for Houston football but somehow I really don’t like seeing him coach the Cougs. This is SWC magic but with no magic. UNLESS! Houston can put up 100. I don’t think they even have the guys to do it but this is Rice we’re talking about here.

Nicholls at Louisiana    7:00pm    ESPN3

Keep the energy up.

North Texas at SMU   7:00pm   ESPN+

I bet is MS621 were still alive he’d be at this game giving Spencer’s boys hell. Sadly he died doing what he loved, curing his COVID by eating ivermectin paste out of a horse’s butt. R.I.P., friend. Neigh to you wherever you are.

Southeastern La. at Louisiana Tech   7:00pm    ESPN3

Even the low tier stuff is geared up for annihilation. This is a bodybag week for all time.

Memphis at Arkansas State    7:00pm    ESPN+

Memphis getting less than a touchdown against Arkansas State seems like easy money but I have no real concept of either of these teams just yet. Maybe the end is nigh for the Tigers glory years? I sure hope not but it’s possible.

NC State at Mississippi State    7:00pm     ESPN2

This game should be as fun as a parents funeral.

Southern Illinois at Kansas State   7:00pm      ESPN+

Over the past week I experienced derision for referring the the guys in purple and silver as “Kansas State” instead of “K State” and that stung because it always surprises me that anybody cares about them enough to have a strong opinion about them.

Stephen F. Austin at Texas Tech    7:00pm    ESPN+

Shrugs

15 Texas at Arkansas    7:00pm   ESPN

Let’s see if Texas is ready to run with the big boys of the SEC! Arkansas is given a decent shot to win this game and that makes the “15″ next to Texas appear extremely suspect in my eyes.

Texas Southern at Baylor    7:00pm   ESPN+

This week Texas Southern is the people’s champion.

Texas State at FIU   7:00pm    ESPN+

Oh, Butch, why have you done this to yourself?

Western Carolina at 4 Oklahoma      7:00pm     PPV

All the Westen Carolina fans are buying this PPV to see their guys score 40.

New Mexico State at New Mexico    7:00pm     Stadium

I looked up the historic rivalry last year to figure out why it was played early in the season instead of at the end but I’ve forgotten and don’t feel the need to look it up again. I figured out how to watch Stadium on my TV but I also forgot that and don’t feel the need to look it up again.

Appalachian State at 22 Miami (FL)  7:00pm   ESPNU

My gut tells me Miami is probably legitimately about the 14th best team in the country but I still would never advise you to bet actual money on the Hurricanes. Are they 9 points better than App State? Easily. They should win by 20+. Are they liable to fuck around and lose or scrape out a win in the final seconds? Absolutely. Let’s fuckin’ go.

Morgan State at Tulane    7:00pm    ESPN+

A lot of people learned to love the Green Wave last week but it’s hard to keep that going with their schedule. Don’t forget them later in the year when the CBSSN glow is really shining.

Liberty at Troy   7:00pm   ESPN+

Liberty -4 is maybe my surest advice of the week. If Malik Willis is as good as his press the fake school should have this game on ice early.

Eastern Michigan at 18 Wisconsin   7:00pm    FS1

I find Wisconsin’s losing effort against Penn State last week to be a personal affront against me and all of nature.

Eastern Kentucky at Louisville    7:00pm   ACCNX

I think this game being broadcast at night on ACCNX means they’re playing naked.

Grambling State at Southern Miss    7:00pm    ESPN3

This is the kind of game that belongs on an app.

Hampton at Old Dominion    7:00pm    ESPN3

This is the kind of game that belongs on a well-worn high school football field.

Austin Peay at 20 Mississippi   7:30pm     ESPN+/SECN+

This is a pretty big OOC game for an SEC team.

Georgia State at 24 North Carolina    7:30pm    RSN/ESPN3

One of several GSUs, I think this is the one I most hope emerges victorious this week.

Idaho at Indiana   7:30pm    BTN

Wait, wasn’t Indiana like #10 last week? What the hell happened to them? No, don’t tell me. Seriously, don’t.

Missouri at Kentucky     7:30pm    SECN

When the SEC hits 24 teams the “S!E!C!” chants are gonna seem really stupid.

Howard at Maryland    7:30pm    BTN

There’s no official line for this game but I hope the Bison can pull off the upset in this classic local rivalry game.

Jacksonville State at Florida State    8:00pm   ACCN

Still shaking my head at FSU icing their own kicker. Jesus, Norvell. Get your shit together.

McNeese at LSU     8:00pm      ESPN+/SECN+

LOLSU was my lock of the week last week if you’re considering taking gambling advice from me.

Washington at Michigan    8:00pm    ABC

UDub lost to a 1-AA team last week and now they have to go on the road and beat Michigan. Which seems inevitable, to be honest.

Cal Poly at Fresno State    10:00pm    CW59

The murder rate will continue to increase as the day progresses. I always kind of like it when a local broadcast shows up on the sheet. So pretty much none of us have legal access to this game. It makes it more special.

San Diego State at Arizona    10:00pm    P12N

Pac-12 Network is similar to CW59 in that almost nobody in the country has legal access to their broadcasts. If you’ve read enough of these posts you are aware that SDSU is my weird very deep backup team. I don’t have a reason to align myself with the school or program, I just tend to enjoy watching their games.

Vanderbilt at Colorado State     10:00pm    CBSSN

This is an abomination.

21 Utah at BYU     10:15pm    ESPN

This is a lowkey fun rivalry. I’m pretty sure I write the same thing every year but it’s still true. Go Utes.

Stanford at 14 USC     10:30pm    FOX

I think USC could win a national championship and I’d still be baffled that Clay Helton is their coach. Of course, they won’t win a national championship as long as Clay Helton is their coach but they apparently won’t ever get embarrassing enough to fire him, either.

Idaho State at Nevada    10:30pm    Stadium

This is the lowpoint of the week’s schedule and you have to stay up late to watch it on a network that only exists as an app or as part of a hidden unlockable download-only level of cable subscription. This is the beauty of the college game.

UNLV at 23 Arizona State    10:30pm   ESPN2

Herm Edwards figured out the trick to looking good in the Pac-12 without having a particularly great team and I can’t make up my mind if I’m rooting for him to keep sliding on that rail or to fall off it. I think I’ve come around to rooting for him but it’s a very dynamic and fluid situation.

Hawaii at Oregon State   11:00pm    FS1

Hawaii gets to play at their normal time for a game against the bottom of the barrel of the Pac-12 but they’re an 11-point underdog. If you’re ever going to take Hawaii, this is the stars lining up for you to do it. It’s still a big “if” but I’m saying there’s a chance.