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spicedandicedtea · 2 years ago

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Payback

Josh Kiszka x reader

18+ Minors do not interact !!

Warnings: Mastrubation (m/f), Thigh fucking, Voyeurism (Let me know if there’s anything else I need to add)

This is my first time writing anything on tumblr (thank you to @gretavanlace and @gretavanfleetposts for the encouragement) My apologies for any misspellings and grammatical errors.

You and Josh had made a deal. No touching yourselves while he was home from tour. You were so often forced to live your sex life through pictures and phone calls, it only made sense to savor each others touch while you while you could.

You have no demerits on your record, Josh on the other hand is a bit stubborn. He does not like to, as he puts it, “ignore his body’s natural call for pleasure,” a fun way to say he had a boner and was too impatient to wait for you.

Last week you came home to josh sprawled out on your shared bed covered in his own cum, his chest still heaving. A blush crept over his face after he realized he’d been caught. Of course seeing him like that had arousal pooling in your panties, but you couldn’t let him know that. You were annoyed that he touched himself while you were gone. It had only been a couple hours; just coffee with a friend. So, you decided to completely ignore the situation for the time being. If he though he wouldn’t get caught this time, he’s probably been doing it behind your back for a while now, and payback would be a bitch.

This whole week has been moving rather slowly, probably because Josh is in and out of the studio putting finishing touches on the upcoming album. He has been treading lightly with you since ‘the incident’ last week. You chose not to deny him sex, but he could still tell there was something brewing behind your eyes. He’s been extra sweet bringing you flowers and tea at work, offering to give you massages, even letting you pick the movie on date night. Probably trying to lessen the blow of your inevitable revenge.

Josh was currently at the studio, he was due home in about an hour and you decided today was the day. Luckily you showered this morning leaving you with plenty of time to set up. You pulled out your small purple vibrator from your bedside drawer, tossing it on the bed with a bottle of lube, just incase you needed any help. As you dig through your lingerie you realize Josh finds nothing sexier than your body completely naked, so you decide to skip it. You strip down and spray yourself with you favorite perfume, give you hair a quick comb through, add a little lip gloss, and call it a day.

Climbing on the bed you start to play with positions. Should you lay on you back so you can watch his reaction, or should you go for something more shocking? Eventually, you land on face down ass up, with your ass pointing towards the bedroom door. You want him to have a good view.

Too impatient to wait any longer you shove your hand in between your legs. You're already wet, you’ve been working yourself up for the better part of an hour and knowing Josh will be walking through the door anytime now has you dripping. Starting slow you run your middle finger through your folds collecting some of your slick and dragging it up to you clit. You repeat this a couple times, teasing yourself before committing to tight circles around on your clit. It feels weird to touch yourself again, different. You find yourself letting out small moans into the mattress. There’s a heat building in your belly as you quicken the pace of your fingers. As much as you want to keep going, cumming now would ruin the plan, so you slow your movements and allow yourself to cool down before starting again.

This time you decide to reach for your vibrator, holding it steady on your clit while you bring your other hand to tease your entrance. You gradually work up the levels of your vibrator, letting yourself adjust to the feeling. Once you find a comfortable level you begin working two fingers into yourself, curling them occasionally. You can’t help but think of Josh, how he looked covered in his own cum. It made your pussy throb around your fingers. You kick your vibrator up another notch and and start to lose your composure. Whimpers and gasps are leaving your mouth and you start to buck your hips into you own touch. The heat in your belly is building rapidly. You feel ready to burst so you kill the vibrator and still your fingers completely. You let out a sob at the lose of stimulation.

Just as your body begins to relax you hear the front door close. “Baby?” he calls for you. Knowing he’ll come looking for you, you waste no time, turning the vibrator all the way up and curling your fingers into yourself. You let out a yelp at the sudden stimulation on your pulsing clit. Your body is begging for release and as soon as Josh walks into the room you can have it.

“Baby,” he calls you again, quieter this time, knowing what you’re up to. You can vaguely hear the bedroom door push open, but you’re so caught up in your own pleasure that you can’t be bothered to acknowledge him yet. At this point you’re squirming and bucking your hips, you whole body feels like it’s on fire. Any second now you’re going to cum. You just need something more. You need Josh; you turn your head to the side to look at him. He’s leaning against the door frame watching you, palming himself through his jeans with a smug look on his face. That’s all it takes. The band inside you snaps, harder than it ever has. You cum calling his name in between moans and you feel something pouring out of you coating you hand and pouring down your thighs.

You can hear Josh whimpering from his place against the door frame. His hands remain on the outside of his pants, he’s thrusting rapidly into his own touch.

“Holy shit, baby, you just squirted,” his voice sounds raspy and fucked out.

“And you’re about to cum in your pants,” you try to let of a small laugh, but it comes out more like a moan. You removed you fingers from yourself; they became to much for you. But you still haven’t pulled away the vibrator, it feels too good, so intense and maybe too much, but far too pleasurable to stop. You can’t help but rock back and forth against the touch of your toy, you can feel your high building again.

You let out a high pitched whine followed by a plea of Josh’s name, as he smirks and walks toward you. He gently rolls you onto you back and climbs on top of you. He leans in giving giving you gentle kisses on your face and neck while he strokes your hair. You’re writhing beneath him arching you back so you nipples are flush against his chest. Every little touch is electric. You follow his hand with your gaze as he reaches down to take control of your movements on your cunt.

You gasp, “No... you’re not allowed to touch me,” quickly grabbing his wrist to drag his hand back up to you head.

“Why not, baby? Wanna make you cum, wanna make you feel good,” he sounds desperate and whiny like he’s the one being getting off.

“We made a deal, no touching ourselves when you’re home. You broke our deal. No touching me, like payback.”

“Payback is getting to watch my sweet girl cum? You need to come up with some better punishments Y/N,” He sounds amused. But you can see how bad he wants to touch you. He’s losing his composure. Hips rutting into your thigh, small noises leaving his mouth, you don’t think he even knows he’s making them.

You want to talk back, tell him he’s wrong, but you can’t. Your orgasm hits you, just as hard, if not harder than before. The hand holding the vibrator stills, opting to just hold it against your clit as pleasure floods through you. You grab Josh by the back of his neck with you free hand and pull him into your neck. He bites down willingly as he continues to thrust onto your leg. Together you are moaning in pleasure, grasping onto each other tightly. You feel weightless.

As you come down from your high you find your lower body wet. It’s everywhere, coating and dripping down your thighs and all over Josh’s pants. You are unsure if he’s wet because of your release, his own, or both of you mixed together.

Josh is there to baby you, stroking your face, giving you praise, and soft kisses on you face and neck. He pulls away from your neck to look you at you, his face is content in post orgasm flush. You can’t help but reach out and pet his face, dragging a finger down to bridge of his nose. “How about next time you sit on my face and let me make you squirt?” You can only respond with whine, trying to pull him in for a kiss, “Oh, is that a yes, baby?” he giggles at you.

“Mmm hmm.” is all you can manage.

Josh allows you a little kiss before nuzzling his way back into your neck, mumbling a gentle “I love you, angel face.”

Needless to say you’re going to start touching yourself all the time if it always ends like this.

#josh kiszka #josh kiszka smut #greta van fleet smut #josh kiszka fic

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liddell-alien · 3 years ago

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A Fantastic Lie

Rating: Teen and Up

Paring: Izzy/Female Original Character

Chapter: 1/?

Summary: Maggie Smith used to be a member of Blackbeard's crew and she's now sailing with him again, on the Revenge. She's chilling with Lucius when she accidetally mentions that Izzy and her have histoty together...

Dear Diary,

three days have passed since I’ve joined the crew of the Revenge.

I have absolutely no idea of what is going on aboard this ship. Edward has lost his beard. His face is weird.

There’s another Captain. I don’t know why there are two Captains… he’s kind, though. Uncomfortably kind. I don’t like him very much.

The crew is unique, and by “unique” I mean useless. I don’t know if we’re going to survive this voyage.

Perhaps, I should have picked another ship.

Edward really looks like shit these days. Word has it he had a few bad weeks. I remember those times on his ship when I used to sail with him, the dark days we used to call them.

Anyway, the crew’s useless but I’m having fun. The young writer is-

“Lucius” he interrupted, as he stopped the writing, putting his quill down and using it as a bookmark.

“What?” Maggie seemed surprised by the sudden intermission; she blinked in confusion and looked in his direction, avoiding eye contact.

“My name’s Lucius. Are we done yet? This is getting boring.” He replied with a sigh.

The two of them were sitting next to each other with their back to the mast, close enough, but not enough to touch each other.

She leant forward, peeking over Lucius’ shoulder. Her eyes were moving fast over his handwriting.

“You misspelled ‘Captain’, and no, we’re not done yet. This is my diary entry. We’re done when I say so.”

Lucius’ eyebrows rose to his hairline as he checked his work, and he found the typo.

“Wait, you can actually read?”

“Yeah… I can write, too.”

“Then why the hell am I doing this for you?”

“Because it’s your job? And I didn’t want to steal it from you. Besides, your handwriting is very pretty.”

Lucius looked at her in disbelief. He had known the woman for three days and usually understanding people came easy to him, but sometimes the words coming out of Maggie’s mouth were so sudden, so unexpected, so random… she was still a mystery to him.

“I honestly don’t know if I should take this as a compliment or as a joke.” He replied, flat and a slightly taken aback. “But thanks? I guess?”

“Can we go back to the entry, now, please? I have more to say…”

Lucius stayed silent for a moment, then he picked up his quill and waited for her to start speaking again.

I found out the boy’s name is Lucius and I think he’s pretty cute.

“Aw, thanks…”

“Shut up. Write.”

“My, God. You’re bossy…”

Then there’s the one that can talk with birds. I can tell he’s smart.

“Wha- Buttons? You think Buttons is smart?”

Maggie just ignored him this time, she kept her eyes fixed on the sky above their heads.

Steve-

“Stede…”

“Fuck off!” she blurted out; her elbow hitting hard the side of Lucius’ forearm.

“Ouch! You’re strong, too!” he whined, rubbing his sore arm. Maggie was tiny, bony and looked a little malnourished. Not the kind of woman you’d describe as ‘strong’, but she could indeed punch you in the face and make you bleed profusely.

Stede told me all their names when I first met him, but I barley recall any of them.

“Obviously…” Lucius laughed, but before she could hit him again, he protected himself with the diary. “Sorry! Go on!”

The short one always glares at me suspiciously. I think I’m in danger.

“You mean Izzy? Don’t worry, his barks are worse than his bite. But I thought you’ve been a member of Edward’s crew, like… years ago.” He tried to stay quiet, but he just couldn’t.

Maggie turned her face to him with a puzzled look on her face.

“No, Izzy’s my husband. I mean the other short one. The one that’s good with knives.”

Lucius nodded, it made sense now. “Oh, that’ll be Jim. They’re definitely dangerous, but you’ll get use- wait what?”

“What?”

Lucius was now staring at the woman with his mouth ajar, in utter shock. He wasn’t even trying to pretend the news didn’t bother him.

On the other hand, Maggie was staring back at him in the most clueless way. Confusion was written all over her face. Her big dark eyes were filled with the fear of having said something wrong. Perhaps she had cause Jim’s rage without acknowledging it.

“Does Jim hate me? Are they going to kill me?”

“What? No. I mean, I don’t know. Jim kinda hates everybody but Olu? That’s not the point. You’re Izzy’s wife? That bitch is married? To you? I mean… sorry. No offense. I- I’m going to need a minute here.”

The words came out of his mouth like a river; shocked and amused, Lucius put the diary down and he started fanning himself with the quill.

“None taken. He is a bitch” she shrugged. “But yeah, we’re married… by accident.”

At this point, Lucius was very much interested in what she was saying. He needed to take notes. The diary was once again in his hands and he started scribbling quickly.

“This is gold. What do you mean ‘by accident’?”

“Well, it was years ago. We were celebrating a successful raid and the whole crew was pissed and I mean pissed. So, we were singing and dancing, howling like sirens under the moonlight, and one moment later, Izzy is proposing. I said yes… Edward officiated the wedding and ten minutes later we were married. I mean he married like three other couples after us because he had so much fun, so it was like a wild night but still… one out of ten would recommend.”

“Mh-mh… this is… God, I’d give my other finger to see this.” Lucius seemed very invested, but Maggie had a weird look on her face. “What? It was that bad? I mean… I can see why, but… Why did things turn out so bad?”

She sighed and rested her head against the mast, closing her eyes, letting the cool, salty breeze to dishevel her hair.

The memories of that night still vivid like fire in her brain. Their song playing in the background, the singing, the dancing, the cheerful laughter of the crew, Edward hanging from the mast, swinging his sword and yelling at the sky… it felt like a goodbye since the beginning.

“I panicked. The morning after, I just panicked. I left the wedding ring on his bed, stole the rowboat and fled. I mean, yeah, we were fucking around… but… marriage?” Her eyes were open again, still fixed on the sky. The sound of the ocean was relaxing, but the memories were making her feal uneasy. “I don’t know. Anyway, when I tried to come back on the ship, months later, he said I could fuck off, so of course I stayed until he had to accept my presence. And when he did, I sort of… ran away again.”

“No, you didn’t!” Lucius had stopped writing, he was hugging the diary, listening to the story in awe.

“Okay, this time I had my reasons.”

“I’m starting to sympathize for the man, this feels wrong. You’re bad.”

This time Maggie turned to him and Lucius could see the despair in her eyes. He’d meant to be funny, she clearly took it seriously. She opened her mouth, her voice quivered, Lucius immediately felt guilty and tried to stop her, but Maggie was already trying to explain herself.

“I mean it! I had my reasons! Someone had information-”

“Maggie!”

Izzy’s voice came loudly, from the decks behind them; Lucius and Maggie both jolted in surprise, he immediately held onto the diary for dear life, exhaling loudly and placing a hand on his heart.

“What are you doing with him?”

Maggie didn’t reply as she sat back straight, trying to recover from the scare.

“Good morning” she said, instead.

“What?” Izzy sounded confused.

“Good morning, Maggie. Good morning, Izzy. How are you? I’m fine, Izzy, thank you. It’s a beautiful day, innit? It really is!” she sounded annoyed, as she looked up at the first mate, with a huff.

Lucius relaxed and hid a smile behind the diary; Izzy stayed silent, looking back and forth between him and Maggie.

“Good morning,” he mumbled, running a hand through his hair, fixing it.

“What?” she taunted, with a straight face.

Lucius almost snorted.

“I said good morning, now would you get up and follow me? We need help with that fucking map of yours” he gritted through his teeth.

“Not with that attitude, I’m not going anywhere” Maggie replied, dead serious. “You scared the shit out of both of us, an apology would be appreciated.”

“No…”

Lucius was dying inside, and he couldn’t resist. “I got very scared, I would love an apology, thank you” he had to bite the inside of his cheeks to remain serious throughout the whole sentence.

Izzy seemed to be on the verge of self-combustion, there was a pulsing vein on his forehead so big that Lucius though it was going to explode. His eyes never left Maggie’s though. She seemed very determined to get her apology and Izzy’s reaction to her demand was hilarious, to say the least. If Lucius didn’t know any better… but yet again, he did know how to read people…

And there was something in Izzy’s eyes that was screaming something along the lines of ‘not in front of him’.

The silence started to sound way too loud and uncomfortable, and when Izzy’s eyes slowly began to drop to the floor, Maggie’s hand snapped and she pointed her index finger to her face.

Lucius silently mouthed: “Oh, my God,” this was the most fun he had since he came back aboard the Revenge, after almost being killed by Edward.

“I’m sorry,” Izzy’s voice was clear but filled with anger and shame.

“And?”

As Izzy closed his eyes, he huffed and turned his back to Lucius and Maggie. His sword dangled by his side. “Would you please follow me?” without waiting for her reply, he left, limping back to the Captains quarters, using his cane for support.

Once he was out of sight, Maggie relaxed her shoulders against the mast for a second and inhaled deeply. Then, she got up and stared at Lucius with the corner of her eyes, silently, as she started to walk away.

He was still trying to process the whole conversation, with a huge grin on his face when he called after her.

“Please, please, please… tell me you spank him, too. Honestly, it’s the only thing I need to know” he teased, with a chanting voice; then he immediately added: “for now…”

Maggie was already on her way to meet with the Captains when she stopped and turned to face Lucius, her eyes sparkled with a tinge of malice but her face was dreadfully solemn.

“Only when he deserves it.”

#izzy hands #israel hands #izzy hands x oc #izzy hands fanfic #ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd fanfic #lucius spriggs #con o'neill #lily writes #my works #a fantastic lie #chapter one #chapter 1

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valerianavow · 3 years ago

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Let's Talk About That Prophecy

STARS THREE STARS B UWN IN G BRIGHT COME FROM BEYOND TO EXPEL THE N IGHT SHOULD THEY FIGHT OR EMBRACE THE FALL THEIR CHOICE WILL DETERMINE ALL

I sat down and translated the prophecy on the relevant page Andrias shows Anne and Marcy today. Some interesting things to note:

"BUWNING" is spelled out instead of "BURNING" (the symbol for W is where the R would be)

The spacing is seemingly arbitrary. While some spaces line up with the end of words, others are completely in the middle ("THEN IGHT")

There's no indication for capitalization in the script (the N in "BEYOND" is directly comparable to the N in "NIGHT")

The popular translation of the prophecy substitutes words and swaps meanings around while ignoring what the actual text says in translation.

more thoughts after the cut!

The misspelling of "burning" and the spacing are honestly probably mistakes on the part of the artists. Speaking from experience, it is difficult to find errors in substitution ciphers like these while you're writing them, since you have to decode them again to find it and people tend to jump to the conclusion of a word when they see the shape of it while decoding.

The last point is the most important one to me. Capitalizing and emphasizing certain words can completely change the tone of a message. In this case, it's led to the fandom using a specific name for an entity that isn't known by any specific name, and assuming the prophecy is about it.

The worst example of this, I think, is on "The Night" wiki article on the "Villians Fandom Wiki". It doesn't pick up on the misspelling of "burning", obviously, but the whole last half of it is completely wrong!

"whether they fight or embrace the fall, their choice shall determine all"

is incorrect. Like I translated above, the correct line is

"should they fight or embrace the fall, their choice will determine all"

Words are important. Doubly so when it comes to prophecies.

I don't think "the night" refers to the entity below the castle at all. I think it means the "night" that comes when the music box is unpowered. This script has been in this book for over a thousand years. I believe it's a description of how Andrias's ancestors used to power the Music Box and their empire.

Andrias expects that his manipulation of Marcy means he can break the cycle of what the box did for his ancestors and allow him unlimited control. Instead of fueling an empire, he's going to war. He's seeking a very specific kind of revenge. Is it on the Plantars? Is it on Sprig, since he reminds him so much of his old friend? Or is it on Earth, the place that kept the box from him for so long? Whatever it is, I don't think we know all the people or forces in play yet. There's still questions to answer, an unknown entity in Marcy's head, and a whole prophecy that has yet to come into play.

#amphibia analysis #amphibia #amphibia spoilers #amphibia meta #amphibia theory #king andrias #the night #avowonder

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missshezz · 4 years ago

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Okay, so I want to make a post about something bugging me three episodes into season two of Prodigal Son: consistency.

In writing, consistency means essentially keeping all the details consistent throughout the story. You have to write with a consistent vision. You have to erase anything that potentially can distract a viewer/reader. You have to remember the dumbest of details.

I’m sure we’ve all read a book where a name was misspelled by accident. That happens, it’s an annoyance, but we move on. Have you read stories where characters completely changed names or appearances halfway through the story? Lot more annoying because it’s no longer consistent with the first half of the book.

Prodigal Son right now is engaging in what I call “writers remorse.” They’re changing Malcolm’s characterization to fit their sudden idea of who his character needs to be this season and completely ignoring the areas where they established these parts of him in the first season. Example:

His tremor. In the current episode, Malcolm tells Dani:

Ignoring the piss-poor caption job here... 😂

We have a flashback from season 1 where we clearly see young Malcolm with that tremor:

youtube

That’s not years, it is weeks. Maybe months. Can we say he maybe didn’t recognize his tremors until he was older? Yes. However, the narrative implies differently. They’re saying years. It’s inconsistent characterization.

And no, Malcolm being an unreliable narrator doesn’t justify it.

Second point of inconsistency. All season 1, Malcolm is haunted by his fear of the girl in the box and what he might have done to her. He’s upset by his recalling he stabbed John Watkins in an act of self-defense. His stabbing of his father (contrived by Martin as a way to manipulate and control Malcolm as to help catch the Carousel Killer) torments him to the point he and Dani have a falling out over it.

But we get this (sorry, no video of this scene on YouTube for me to grab so I am linking to a blog with gifs):

So, Malcolm essentially plans out an entire act of revenge on a kid who bullied him at boarding school that almost kills the kid and is totally fine with it?

I don’t think so.

Inconsistent characterization.

If he was okay with essentially pushing a kid into an asthma attack and giving them their “empty” inhaler (okay, he “saved” him in the end but still), he’d have had no problem in shooting Endicott. He was justified in shooting Endicott. The man had a hand in his “girlfriend’s” (less girlfriend, more user, sorry) murder, in his father nearly being killed/sent to Rikers, his being framed for murder, murdering his lawyer, having Gil stabbed, and essentially assaulting his sister (to the point she snapped and killed him).

Yeah, Malcolm okay with almost murdering a bullying classmate is not tracking well here, and no, unreliable narrator doesn’t cover it. This is writer remorse. They had places they wanted to take Malcolm in season 1, reversed on them at some point, and are now trying to shoehorn those things in now as character development. It’s inconsistent. Can they still pull this together in the remaining ten episodes? Sure... but I’m not optimistic given the choices they have made so far.

Especially since the laziest writing of all was perpetrated in episode one by them having Malcolm chop up and dispose of Endicott. That is called jumping the shark. All suspensions of belief were basically ignored as they went with the safest and most predictable angle they could to explain the end of season 1 without having to revisit the missing elements from season 1 (thanks to the Whu Whu bug). Does it add drama? Sure. Is it good drama? Not really. I can think of a number of ways they could have gone with this that were as dramatic and built a story they could have worked into season 2.5 or 3 (depending on what happens in the next few months).

Let’s be blunt here: show runners had a mess on their hands because of the Whu Whu bug, restrictions on filming, and a reduced number of episodes to tell a story in. They just have made some fundamental errors that toss me, as a viewer, out of the story. Do I still love the show? Absolutely. The ironic thing is that one can love a fandom and still critique it. Critiquing the show also doesn’t make me less of a fan (as some will claim). Being a fan means loving something for what it is and accepting it as it is. I accept that PSon is a bit messy at this moment. I’m still here for the ride. I’m still invested in the characters and their stories. I just have issues with the choices made.

#prodigal son #malcolm bright #tom payne #mini-rant #inconsistent characterization #consistency issues #writers are hard asses #prodigal son season two #Youtube

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pengychan · 5 years ago

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[Good Omens] Winging It - 2 Kings 1:6

Summary: Shockingly, attempting to destroy an angel without consulting God first comes with consequences. There is more than one way to fall, and a thousand more ways to inconvenience an angel and a demon who just wanted to be left in peace. Characters: Gabriel, Crowley, Aziraphale, Beelzebub, Michael. Rating: T

Prologue and all chapters are tagged as ‘winging it’ on my blog.

A/N: my keyboard sort of died halfway through the chapter, so I've been typing directly on the screen of my tablet. Haaaaate. If you notice any misspellings in this chapter, now you know why.

***

In the end, finding Gabriel had been a simple matter of looking for reports of sudden, unusual lighting. And as far as such phenomena go, ball lighting is among the rarest of them all; for it to be reported right above Soho Square the previous night, along with a curious hole in the ground… well, it was quite the red flag. A red flag that let out the most distinctive fishy smell.

And if there was something Sandalphon was good at following, it was fishy smells. In this one specific case, he didn’t think he’d have to follow it very far. He knew exactly who he’d find only a couple of streets away, close enough even for a weakened Gabriel to stagger to.

“... You think he might have turned to Aziraphale?” Michael had asked, seemingly unconvinced. Uriel, on the other hand, had been quicker to agree with his theory.

“Assuming that is the spot where he fell, Aziraphale is the closest angel he could hope to find.”

“If he is indeed still an angel, given that Hellfire did not harm him.”

“He has God’s protection,” Uriel had muttered, her voice bitter. “We have to assume he is.”

“And Gabriel was hurt. We were not allowed to heal him before he was sent down. He might have thought he could do that,” Sandalphon had added, despite not really knowing whether or not Gabriel had been able to think at all. When they let him go after taking his wings from him, to be cast out, he was barely coherent - barely conscious, falling limply from their grip.

“And why would he think Aziraphale of all angels would help him?” Michael had asked, only to gain herself a long look from Uriel.

“Who else could he turn to? He has nothing and no one on Earth.”

He still has us up here, Sandalphon had thought, but it had remained unspoken. “He used to be friendly enough with this human tailor,” he’d said. “He made him good clothes. Gabriel always had a taste for human clothing.”

“... And when was that?”

“Well, that was in the middle of the Regency, so-- ah. Right. Humans and their life spans.”

In the end, he’d volunteered to go check himself; despite having no desire to see Aziraphale up close ever again, just in case he shot Hellfire towards him again somehow, he was the one with the best knowledge of London.

And it hadn’t taken long for him to know his intuition had been correct: he’d been just across the street - it looked like someone had smashed their car into a pole - when the door had opened. And out they had walked, all three of them: the demon, Aziraphale... and Gabriel, somehow unsteady on his feet but unharmed.

He’d almost lost them several times in the few minutes that followed, because the driving of whoever was behind the wheel positively insane. The cab driver he’d flagged down - and who’d reacted to his request to follow that car with a frankly puzzling “Oh, I’ve been waiting for this all my life!” - could barely manage to follow, and would have probably been left in the dust if they hadn’t stopped only a few streets away.

Gabriel had looked… just a little green in the face when he’d left the car, and had paused to speak to Aziraphale, who from his part didn't seem in the slightest bit antagonizing. It was a relief, really, considering that Gabriel would be powerless to defend himself should he decide to take revenge. Or the demon, certainly the demon would want to harm him; if he hadn't, Sandalphon could only assume Aziraphale had him on a tight leash. Even from across the street - entirely unaware of the fly sitting on the roof of the Bentley - he could smell sulphur and evil.

In the end, both Aziraphale and the demon had left, and Gabriel had gone inside the hotel. Sandalphon had decided to wait a short while before going in as well, in case those two came back for whatever reason. So he walked in a bar across the street - if he’d known humans only marginally better, he would have also known that ‘an angel walks in a bar’ would be an excellent start for a joke - and ordered a mug of the bitter beverage humans enjoy.

“... Coffee?” a waiter asked, only slightly perplexed; soon enough, waitressing would destroy what was left of his will to live and he would no longer feel surprised at anything anymore.

“Yes, that,” Sandalphon agreed - he would know, he reasoned, it was his job - and sat there, sipping the bitter liquid that was brought to him, before he pulled out the phone Michael had given him. A special sort of phone, with a reception and data plan that was, quite simply, not of that world.

Michael answered in the middle of the very first ring. “Well…?”

“I found him.”

A long sigh of relief. “How is he?”

“Haven’t spoken to him yet, but he seems… reasonably well, all things considered. He did turn to Aziraphale. The demon was there, too.”

“And they didn’t harm him?”

“Not that I could see. They left him in a hotel. I’ll go in as soon as I have finished this…” Sandalphon paused. “Hey, uh… servant?” He wasn’t entirely certain what they were called nowadays, but that was the gist of it, he supposed. “What is this beverage again?”

As another small part of his soul withered and died, the waiter - a young student who was wondering if a history degree was truly worth nine thousand pounds a year, considering that those who study history are doomed to watch those who don’t repeat it anyway - forced himself to smile. “Coffee, sir.”

“Coffee. Not bad, perks you up. Maybe Gabriel would like some.”

“... Do ask him. But first and foremost, make sure he knows that we’re here to help him.”

“Of course,” Sandalphon said, and ended the call with the absolute, idiotic certainty that Gabriel would be overjoyed to see him.

***

“Ugh.”

The book sailed through the air in an elegant arc to land somewhere in the vicinity of the wastebasket. Sitting on the bed, face contorted in disgust, Gabriel faintly wished he could will it to catch fire. What he’d just read about human bodily functions was… ugh. Ugh.

‘Disgust’ wasn’t something he had often felt towards humanity - usually there was a vague interest at times and polite disinterest most others - but now it certainly was his strongest feeling. His current condition suddenly seemed even more of a punishment; all the showers he could possibly take wouldn’t help make it better. He was never going to feel clean again.

Never going to feel whole again, either.

On his back, over his shoulder blades, the ragged scars where his wings had been ached. Not the physical sort of ache he’d had a quite literal crash course in over the past twenty-four hours, but something deeper, throbbing worse than any infection - worse than the hunger he was desperately trying to ignore, the contents of the small fridge in his room untouched on the desk. Gabriel’s voice rang through the empty room as a raspy whisper. “I’m sorry.”

Could God hear him? Or rather, would God lend an ear to what he had to say - a disgraced angel cast out of Heaven, away from Their glory? He didn’t know. All he had was hope and he would cling to that. After all, however much he felt like it, he was not in Hell. So maybe… maybe there was hope for him yet. Gabriel looked up, and sank on his knees beside the bed.

“I meant well. I thought I was upholding the greater good. I never meant to take Your judgment upon myself. If I did-- I’m sorry. Forgive me. Please, let me come home. I won’t fail you again.”

There was the faintest echo of his own voice, and then… silence. Outside someone in the road shouted an insult that might have been meant for someone’s mother or their cat, it was hard to tell. A door somewhere in the hallway was opened and shut again. Nothing else happened.

Of course not. I need a Circle to speak with God, or at least to his Voice.

Only that of course, he had no idea how to make one, because he never needed to try contacting God - or rather, Metatron; no one had spoken directly to God in eons - all the way from Earth. Even if he could, would God take his call at all?

Why would They? Who do you think you are, that God would give you audience?

The Archangel Gabriel.

Not anymore.

I thought I was someone important.

You never were.

I thought…

Prideful fool.

Gabriel’s missing wings ached, his stomach cramped, and he went from kneeling to curling up on the floor, eyes shut. A memory tried to resurface, that of being held on the ground by two pairs of hands, of a weigh on him as his wings were torn away, and he shut his eyes tighter.

“At least tell me why,” he choked out. “Why me? Why only me?”

Silence. Something bubbled into the pit of despair in him, something hot and bitter that was not, as Sandalphon would have gleefully suggested, coffee. It was burning anger, against his predicament and, even more dangerously, against God.

Am I hearing you say God got it wrong? That you know better than the Almighty?

A crime born of pride.

Or you admit that God got it right, and you deserve this? You can't have it both ways, Gabe.

“They assisted me! Worked with me, made decisions with me-- we were equals in everything!”

And they truly had been, him and Michael especially, utterly loyal since even before the first war. God’s warrior, and God’s messenger. How could it be that, for the same crime, one was condemned and the other carried out the sentence? How could it be fair, how could it be just?

I am Gabriel, that stand in the presence of God.

Not anymore. I am no one, and I am alone.

“I always did my best - I… I deserve an explanation!” Gabriel choked out, beyond caring how blasphemous the notion was, that God owed him anything. “A word! A sign! Anything!”

“Ah, give up. Either God has the worst reception, or they really don’t care to speak to any of us,” a voice rang out suddenly, and it caused Gabriel freeze - both because it was unexpected, and because it was a voice he knew; one that couldn’t possibly be further away from God’s.

Sitting on the bed like it was a throne, towering over his huddled form on the floor and surrounded by a cloud of sulphur, was the Prince of Hell.

***

Beelzebub quite enjoyed towering over others. They enjoyed lording over others as well, being a Prince of Hell and Lord of the Flies, which generally came easier. ‘Towering’ is honestly the hard part, when your usual form is fairly diminutive in size. Therefore, they quite appreciated Gabriel’s choice to lower himself on the floor; it was a promising start for their new work relationship.

Of course it wasn’t them he had lowered himself for, but it mattered not. He would, in time. Sooner or later. Possibly sooner.

Beelzebub, Prince of Hell and Lord of the Flies, was not known for their patience.

“What-- you? What are you doing here?”

That was… no appropriate way to greet one’s new superior either; Beelzebub supposed they could excuse it, if anything because Gabriel had a lot to process at the moment and, last they had met, they had worked on opposite sides essentially as equals. It was a big change, something angels did not do well with.

Yes, they could excuse him. They just chose not too. As Gabriel scrambled to sit up, Beelzebub gave him an unimpressed look.

“That is no way to greet your superior. I believe ‘your Lordship’ or ‘sir’ would serve better.”

That gained them a rather stupid look as Gabriel sat up, still on the ground. “But… you’re not.”

All right, so maybe he either wasn’t as clever as he made himself seem, or was still quite deep in denial. Beelzebub rolled their eyes and stood, coming to tower - ah how they loved that word - directly above Gabriel. “You are Fallen,” they said, in the slow voice you’d use for a very slow child. Or at least, so Beelzebub assumed. It wasn’t often they spoke with very slow children or any children at all, with the exception of the not-Antichrist. Although dealing with especially slow demons probably came close enough. “Therefore, you now belong in Hell. I am here to claim you. You will work under my supervision and--”

“What-- no!” Gabriel protested, and moved to stand; a look from Beelzebub was enough for him to reconsider, but he did glare up at them. "That voice in my head, telling me all the worst-- it was you!"

"Uh, no. You're just going crazy."

“Ah." Gabriel had the good grace to look embarrassed before speaking again. "I-- I am not Fallen.”

“No? You seem to have landed quite heavily.”

If the remark stung, Gabriel did not let it show. “On Earth, not in Hell,” he argued. “You have no claim on me!”

Beelzebub snorted. “You still fell, and I expect you to tell me the reason why. Am I supposed to care for the fine print?”

“You-- always cared about the fine print!” Gabriel protested, and truth be told, it was one thing they had in common… with one important distinction.

“I care about the fine print when it benefits me.”

The notion seemed to downright offend him. “You can’t do that! And… and if I were meant for Hell, I would not have landed on Earth! It must mean something."

Ah, look at him, clinging to details because it was all he could hold onto in his desperate certainty he was still special, one of God’s golden archangels. With another roll of their eyes, Beelzebub held out a hand. To a casual observer, it might have looked like a nice gesture to help him up; Gabriel, knowing better, stared at that hand like one would stare at a claw about to tear the soul out of their body.

“You bore me. Now, come. No reason to make it more difficult for yourself. We prepared a nice spot for you in Hell.” As nice as a spot in Hell got, anyway. Which wasn’t very nice, or else it wouldn’t be Hell, but Gabriel could probably guess.

Somehow, the former Archangel Gabriel - who at the moment looked like garbage, however much Beelzebub tended to appreciate garbage - found the audacity to sneer. “You cannot claim me and you know it. Mortals are beyond your grasp unless they offer up their soul, or get to the end of their life doomed to Hell.”

Taking a mental note to leave leave him to Dagon for a bit once they got back - they didn’t call her Master of Torments for nothing - Beelzebub sneered right back.

“That is not a long wait,” they pointed out. The reminder of how pathetically short human lives were knocked that smirk off his face, at least. “And I could make it even shorter with a snap of my fingers.”

“I--” fear twisted Gabriel’s features for a moment, then he forced himself to scowl. A valiant attempt, Beelzebub had to concede. “But you won’t.”

“Oh?”

“There is no telling whether my soul would be claimed by Heaven or Hell if you destroy this vessel now,” Gabriel retorted and, for Satan’s sake, of course he was right. Trying to claim his soul now against his will could very well backfire, giving him a ticket straight back to Heaven and leaving them empty-handed. Still…

“... You’re not certain yourself, are you?” Beelzebub tilted their head on one side. “Or else you would have already ended it.”

“I…” Gabriel scowled, cheeks reddening like the Prince of Hell had just unveiled a shameful secret, a shameful weakness. “E-either way, you won’t take the risk.”

Beelzebub narrowed their eyes. “So, you won’t make this easy. Very well.” They sneered, leaning forward and causing that infuriating, pompous idiot to shrink, trying to scoot back on his hands and backside across the floor, away from them and towards the door. “I’ll claim your soul the old-fashioned way. I’ll be your shadow from now on. I’ll whisper temptations in your ear every day of your sad, little, short human lifespan - until it runs out and you’ll be ours.”

Truth be told, as a high-ranking demon mostly based in Hell, Beelzebub was severely out of practice when it came to tempting humans to their side… but that was a detail Gabriel needed not know. And besides, how hard could it be? They would brush up their skills in no time, the Lord of the Flies was sure of it.

“Y-you-- I--” Gabriel, who had paled a little more with each word Beelzebub uttered, had to swallow before his spoke. When he did, his voice was probably shakier than he would have liked. “It won’t work. I won’t let you tempt me. If this is God’s test for me--”

“Oh, don’t flatter yourself. God doesn’t care about you all that much, and besides I am not their delivery boy. I am here for Hell’s sake. And once I do claim you, you will regret making me wait.”

Gabriel swallowed, then - showing a good deal of idiocy - scowled again. He looked about as threatening as a panda, but at least there was an attempt. “Your plan will not work. I won’t allow you to tempt me. You can’t have me.”

“Yes, yes. Many have said the same. And they have failed.”

“I will not!” Gabriel snapped, and began to stand up. “I am the Archangel Gabriel, and there is no force of Hell or Earth that will ever get me on your side. Begone, foul bea--”

“Hello? Gabriel? Anybody in?”

After the voice rang out, something interesting happened: Gabriel shrieked, and ended all attempts at getting up as though every muscle in his body had turned to cooked asparagus. He fell back on his backside to stare at the door, which was now open, with wide eyes.

Beelzebub followed his gaze to see a familiar enough face; Sandalphon may look unassuming in that form, but they knew he could be a force to be reckoned with. The few times they had met, Sandalphon had been firmly by Gabriel's side… but right now, the former archangel looked far from pleased to see him. He looked terrified, actually, in a way Beelzebub had failed to make him, which was rather annoying and more than slightly insulting.

What happened upstairs, anyway? Why was he cast out?

"Gabriel! Oh, here you are - we were worried. It's, er, good to see you?"

Beelzebub blinked, gaze shifting between Gabriel - who was scrambling again to get up, but mostly scooting away on the floor - and Sandalphon, who seemed to be doing his best to come across as harmless, hands raised and a nervous smile on his face. Of course, all pretense of harmlesses was gone the second his eyes fell on Beelzebub, Prince of Hell, Lord of the Flies and so forth.

“What-- you! What are you doing here!”

Ah, the arrogance of angels - acting like the Prince of Hell owed him an explanation for being on Earth, as though they had just showed up uninvited in Heaven itself after getting on the wrong elevator. Which had only happened once or twice in millennia, really; Beelzebub considered it a pretty good going.

“Did you buy the hotel? Got carried away with your game of Monopoly?” they asked drily. The invention of Monopoly - or rather, the twisting of its intended purpose and the violence it prompted at the tables of the most respectable households - was one of Hell’s proudest achievements. Not quite up there with the absolute, brilliant chaos a game of Uno could wreak, or the utter ruin of compulsive gambling, but close enough.

Sandalphon bared his teeth in a gesture that made him look fairly threatening, Beelzebub had to concede, although Dagon certainly pulled it off better. “If you so much lift a hand on him--” he began, only to trail off when Gabriel managed to find his knees and scrambled to hide… behind Beelzebub.

Well. Now that only added to their confusion, and the hands grasping at the lapel of their jacket added to their annoyance. Beelzebub turned to look down at Gabriel, who stared up at them - still on his knees, a nice change - with wide, terrified eyes. Which was… also a change, but not necessarily a nice one. Beelzebub would have enjoyed it a lot more if they had the slightest inkling as to what the Heaven was going on.

“I’m sorry,” they said, tilting their head on one side. “Do you want to lose those hands?”

“Beelzebub! Don’t you dare touch him!” Sandalphon barked.

Oh, for Satan’s sake, had those two decided to share one single brain cell that day?

“He is the one touching me!” Beelzebub snapped, and glared down. That gaze had made demons burst crying and, upon occasion, burst in flames. “What did I do or say that made you think you’re allowed to touch me?”

No flames, and no tears. While Gabriel looked paler, and the grip on the lapels of their jacket only tightened. “Don’t let him get me.”

Beelzebub, Prince of Hell and Lord of the Flies, opened their mouth. Then, failing to think of anything at all he could retort to that, they closed it. Opened it again. Closed it again.

What. In. The. World. Is. Going. On.

Still near the door, Sandalphon sputtered. “Gabriel what-- I’m not going to-- that was God’s order, I couldn’t-- didn’t want to--”

Well well well. The more they talked, the more interesting the picture became. Confused, but still interesting. Something had happened, and the more Beelzebub knew, the more they could use to make their case and convince Gabriel to take his rightful place in Hell. “What did you do to him?”

“I-- it wasn’t me, Michael--” Sandaphon began, then trailed off when his brain caught up with his tongue. His lost expression turned into anger again. “I have nothing to explain to you, demon.”

Beelzebub sneered. “It is Prince of Hell to you,” they said. “So-- Michael. What did Michael do to him? What did God order you to do?”

“I owe no explanation--”

Beelzebub looked away from him, down at the… former archangel still holding on the lapels of their jacket. He was looking at Sandalphon, too, hiding behind them like a scared mortal child, but looked up when Beelzebub spoke. “What did they do to you?”

Gabriel swallowed, and his voice was barely audible when he spoke. “My wings.”

Gone, of course. Mortals have no wings. They took them.

Now that was… callous. Heaven wasn’t tender with those it deemed unworthy of being there anymore, but even them - even Satan - got to keep their wings. As a whole, making him mortal was callous; more powerless than any demon. And of course, of course God would get other angels, his friends, to do the dirty work for them; they rarely struck anyone personally nowadays.

There was a degree of sadism in that way of handling things that, Beelzebub suspected, even Satan himself could not hope to match. Not that they would go saying as much aloud; Satan would most certainly take offense.

“Did you at least try to argue? Or did you just turn on him like vultures on a carcass?”

“Argue with God?” Sandalphon looked horrified at the mere thought. “Of course not, we-- you-- ah, you’d do that, wouldn’t you? You did, and look where it got you!”

“And so you threw him down rather than leap yourselves,” Beelzebub muttered, and scoffed. “Of course you would. No surprise there.”

Not that Hell would precisely flock at the defense of a demon condemned by Satan himself, but that was entirely beside the point. The point there was making Heaven look bad - and it wasn't like they got many chances to do that. The guys upstairs had infuriatingly good PR and fan clubs across the world, some of which would put most demons to shame. An amazing percentage of them did, in fact, turn up in Hell once their life was done. They were rarely happy about their placement, but who ever was?

The angel’s features twisted in fury. “We had no choice, and you know it!”

A scoff. “Don’t be ridiculous, of course you did. You could have chosen to refuse and take the fall with him.”

“I...” Sandalphon hesitated, and looked down at Gabriel, once again looking very lost. Beelzebub felt the grip on the lapels of their jacket tightening, heard a sharp intake of breath. “Gabriel, we--”

“You dropped him the moment God told you to,” Beelzebub sneered. “God forsook him and so did you.”

“We didn’t want--”

“But you did. And now you think you can come uninvited and force your presence on him?”

“He’s not yours, Beelzebub!”

“Neither he’s yours. And you don’t want him back.”

“You know nothing! We do want--”

“Oh? And what are you going to do? Argue with God to allow him back? Please. You won’t do it and you know it.”

No answer; Sandalphon had enough sense, at least, not to deny that. He stilled, face pale, and looked back down at Gabriel - silent, helpless. Beelzebub held back a sneer, and glanced down as well.

“Want me to get him to leave?”

For a few moments, there was no reply; Gabriel stayed on his knees, gaze low, saying nothing. Then, slowly, he let go of Beelzebub’s jacket, reached up to wipe his face - ah, yes, humans leaked that way - and stood. Sowly, still behind them, but he stood and drew in a long breath. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse, but with a degree of coldness to it that hadn’t been there before.

“... If you please,” he said.

Sandalphon’s eyes turned wide as saucers. "What? No, Gabriel, you can't-- listen to me--"

"I begged you to stop."

"Gabriel--"

"You didn't listen."

"It was God's will, you know we couldn't-"

All right, that was enough. A gesture of Beelzebub's hand, and a swarm of flies materialized right outside the open window. They barged in, buzzing furiously, and surrounded Sandalphon, who could only cry out and stumble back through the door. Another gesture, and the door slammed shut - a curtain of Hellfire covering it, to keep any angel from coming in again.

"That ought to keep them out for a good while," they muttered. There was no answer; behind them there was only a long sigh, the creak of a mattress' springs.

They turned to see Gabriel sitting back on the bed, burrowing his face into shaky hands. He drew in a deep breath before uttering something that was… rare for the Prince of Hell to hear.

"... Thank you."

Well, look at that. Maybe, entirely by accident, they were on to something. The long-held belief that you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar was quite frankly a load of crap - especially in the case of fruit flies who are attracted by vinegar like nothing else - but perhaps, when it came to catching a former archangel, a different approach may be needed.

And Beelzebub might have just found the right angle.

"... All right," they said calmly, and sat down at well, chin resting on their fist. "Tell me what happened."

***

"And they said to him, a man came up to us and told us to go back to the king and give him this message. ‘This is what the Lord says: Is there no God in Israel? Why are you sending men to Baal-zebub, the god of Ekron, to ask whether you will recover? Therefore, because you have done this, you will never leave the bed you are lying on; you will surely die.’" 2 Kings 1:6

***

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#good omens #ineffable bureaucracy #ineffable husbands #archangel gabriel #beelzebub #archangel sandalphon #crowley #aziraphale #winging it #idont-know-what-im-doing #that-g3-obsessive

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1dreality · 6 years ago

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Why The Normalization of Stan Culture is Unhealthy

How a tweet about Ariana Grande made me realize the extent of harm this subculture has done.

Haaniyah Angus

FollowJan 27

The way in which pop culture is consumed in the 2010s is unlike anything else we have witnessed since the dawn of pop culture itself. Social media has created a hyperreality wherein the distance between regular individuals and their idols is slowly shortening, or at least appearing to. This is most obviously seen within ‘stan Twitter’, a section of Twitter dedicated to celebrities even to the most harmful lengths.

I want to make myself clear here: I don’t hate stans or stan Twitter. Throughout my teenage years, I was part of this subculture in various ways, whether it be K-Pop, One Direction, Justin Bieber, 5SOS and — ironically enough — Ariana Grande. Through ‘standoms’ I was able to meet people and make friends in a way I couldn’t in real life. I felt as if I were part of a community, that I finally belonged. But, as I got older, I realized the obsession I had wasn’t healthy, and that’s why I worry about the direction that many young people seem to be heading in. Their dedication to strangers in order to boost their own self-esteem feels almost like a car crash ready to happen and, for some, it already has.

But, though this is undoubtedly a phenomenon of the social media era, in order to understand what stan Twitter is and its origin, we need to travel back to a time before Twitter even existed.

Currently, on Urban Dictionary, a stan is defined as an overzealous maniacal fan for any celebrity or athlete, stemming from Eminem’s 2002 hit, Stan. In the video, Stan wants Eminem to make contact with him but Eminem doesn’t reply to his letters and, due to this, Stan thinks he has been ignored. As revenge, Stan ties up his own girlfriend, stows her in his trunk, drives along a rain-soaked highway and drives off a bridge. Eminem gets around to responding and says how thankful he is for the support, only to understand that Stan is obsessed with him and then, finally, to connect the dots and realize that he’s the man who killed his girlfriend.

What many psychological professionals would describe this as is a parasocial relationship. This is not a made up disorder nor an armchair diagnosis, but simply the definition to a relationship many people have with famous figures. Parasocial relationships are one-sided dynamics in which energy, interest and time are extended towards the object of obsession whilst they (commonly a celebrity) remain ignorant of the existence of the other.

But, though critics and think piece writers often frame them as a symptom of young people’s generational rot, behaviours such as this are not new in the slightest. Before the boom of social media, obsessive fans had existed for a long, long time — such as during the Roman reign, where people collected gladiators’ sweat out of admiration; or the Victorian era, when hordes of fans forced author Arthur Conan Doyle to revive his star character, Sherlock Holmes. The Beatles had a superfan plotting to murder John Lennon, Michael Jackson had to prove that he didn’t impregnate a stalker, and Uma Thurman received a card from a fan that had a drawing of an open grave, a headstone and a man standing on the edge of a razor blade.

This is not an exclusively Western phenomenon either. In Korea, this type of idolatry exists heavily within the K-Pop industry. Sasaeng fans are over-obsessive fans of musical idols, to the point that they engage in stalking. According to Yahoo Lifestyle, Korean idols have been filmed, had their phones wiretapped, and even had fans breaking into their homes.

What makes this new era of ‘stalker fans’ different, in my opinion, is the admiration that seems to be growing towards such behaviours. Today, even as a joke, the terminology of ‘stalker fan’ or ‘stan’ has been the latest object of amelioration — where a word’s negative meaning is elevated to a positive one.

Last year when culture writer Wanna Thompson received a hateful DM from rapper Nicki Minaj and decided to share it, the following backlash shone a light for many in regards to this behaviour. Minaj clapped back at a comment Thompson had made on her Twitter account and Thompson brought it to her timeline, shocked that a celebrity of that magnitude could do such a thing. According to an interview with the New York Times, Wanna received hateful messages via Twitter, Instagram, Facebook and even email; including insults to her infant daughter and suicide bait. The majority of these hateful words came from stans, who seemed to have a soldier-like sense of duty to protect Minaj. It was as if they would do anything for their idol.

Though Wanna and Nicki’s beef was recent and particularly notorious, one could pick any of all the major stan groups and they’d find that they all exhibit this need to protect their idols from critique, even when it is valid. Which brings me to the point of this article.

We need to talk about Ariana Grande.

It was last week when Grande released her song ‘7 Rings’ and, as a longtime fan of the 25-year-old star, I was ecstatic. I loved the song and felt like she was finally blossoming into the artist she could always be. That was until it was rightfully pointed out to me that Ariana was walking along a tightrope that many young white pop stars toe — and often fall off of. Like many ex-child stars before her, Ariana was rebelling against her ‘good girl’ image by appropriating Black culture.

As stated by writer Erin Dyana:

Viewing her 7 Rings video after seeing her come up in real time throughout the years has left a bizarre taste in my mouth and I’m not sure if there’s anything that can cleanse my palate of it. The video has quite literally glamorized a trap house (something she wouldn’t know anything about) while she raps in an airy voice about buying weave, being rich, and having a “stacked” ass (a lie). These lyrics and visuals aren’t fitting and belong to a Black woman, period. It’s inauthentic and corny to me that she felt the need to cherry pick from Black culture to make something that’ll sell and get clicks.

As much as I love Grande, I couldn’t ignore this issue, which has plagued Black culture for years. The more I listened to 7 Rings, the more I understood why it made people, specifically Black women uncomfortable. While I wasn’t the most damning critic of Grande’s song, I immediately got pushback for suggesting that those who dislike it weren’t in the wrong. Historically white pop stars have been able to cross genres (pop to trap, in Grande’s case) while Black singers haven’t.

I was noticing that anytime someone dared speak about Grande, they were silenced by her fans and stans alike, even though some of the people criticizing Ariana might have disliked her already, or been indifferent to her, many of us truly loved her music. Though stan Twitter might have you thinking otherwise, critical consumption doesn’t negate enjoyment. I and many others are perfectly able to spot the problematic aspects of music, writing and film whilst still having fun with it. Critical thinking only makes our experience richer, and definitely doesn’t mean that we hate an artist for making mistakes.

The drama culminated when people noticed that Ariana herself was liking tweets defending 7 Rings, its music video and the genre choice. I find that, when celebrities try to defend themselves against valid critiques such as cultural appropriation, it does more harm than good. This self-victimization causes the stans to be even more defensive and thus lash out against anyone critiquing their idol. Grande seemingly felt attacked or felt that these critics — mainly Black women — were harassing her. Her fans didn’t just internalize those feelings as their own but, of course, felt the need to defend Ariana by attacking anyone who dared criticize her.

I probably wouldn’t be paying as much attention to this if I hadn’t been also a victim of the harassment her stans were dishing out online. What sparked it, you may ask! I had simply tweeted a ‘judgemental’ reaction image in response to Ariana’s Instagram story. In it, it seemed that someone had jokingly written in their Insta-story: You like my hair? Gee, thanks just bought it” *kissing emoji*!!!! white women talking about their weaves is how we’re going to solve racism. Grande then proceeded to repost that story, thanking the OP for praise, even though it was clearly a mockery of that line.

As I mentioned earlier, I’d already gotten pushback from Ariana’s stans, and I didn’t care if people got mad at me. I would have continued on not caring but, after that tweet started circulating, it got to a point where my direct messages started blowing up with fans threatening me and telling me to delete it or else. I didn’t pay them any mind since I felt that there was no reason to take their threats seriously. However, come the next morning I woke and saw that my Twitter account had been suspended. It didn’t take long for me to realize that I had been falsely reported by stans in order to get the tweet taken down.

You see, Twitter’s reporting system is beyond repair. Reports are evaluated by algorithms, making it ridiculously easy for abusive accounts to skirt suspension by misspelling slurs, and even easier for ill-intentioned people to ‘game’ the system by mass-reporting innocent users. I only got a tenth of the backlash that Thompson received from Minaj fans and yet my Twitter account, a platform on which I had built a following of 12,000 and which held contacts throughout various industries was gone. Not only that but, once I tweeted on my new account that I had been suspended unfairly, stans started to mock me and say that I deserved it for posting that tweet. A tweet that simply reacted to a foolish post of Grande’s — which, mind you, she acknowledged as such and took down.

But why do these things happen? Why do hordes of fans maliciously attack critics? Why do ‘stans’ behave in such an obsessive manner? Some say that social media is to blame and that isn’t a completely ludicrous view. As stated earlier, stans existed long before the age of the Internet, but the anonymity and the mass reach of social media allow their harassment and stalking to be extremely harmful while sheltering them from consequences. You can’t get a restraining order against an anonymous person who could use various accounts to stalk you. If stans are harassing those critiquing their favourite celebrity, blocks may prove futile, as they could make uncountable new accounts, and online harassment may continue until the aggressors get bored or the target finally gives in and deletes their account, whatever happens first.

I want to be positive when it comes to stans, I want to say hey! let these kids do what they want and oh, they’ll grow out of it, but I’m worried it may be too late. These stans have projected their own self-esteem issues and insecurities upon celebrities that make them feel whole. I know this because I did this, and many of my friends did this. Maybe obsessive fanaticism is an inescapable part of growing up, and maybe stans will come across this article and drag me for it. They will say that I’m being extra and that I just want clicks but — while I do want clicks, that’s why we’re all here, right? — I am genuinely worried. What was seen as fringe behaviour before — the invasion of privacy, obsessive fantasies, aggression and possessiveness, absolute disregard for others’ wellbeing — seems to be expected now in order to be “a true fan”. I’m worried that this has become the new norm for celebrity culture, and that the popularization of ‘standom’ has cemented this behaviour for years to come.

Edited By: Andrea Merodeadora

#fandom culture #stan culture #excellent article on the phenomenon!!

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ycjins-blog · 6 years ago

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⁓ ♡ hello lovely people ! first, let me introduce myself as the dumbest person of earth because i misspelled my own name. it’s Evy and not ivy ( someone pls kill me to relieve me from this burden aka my dumbness ) and this is my precious bean yejin ( s/o at myself for not misspelling her name but i actually did in my theme but i fixed it hah ! *cries in the distance* ). actually, at first i wanted to base her on our favourite tabasaco aka vasco from lookism, but when i started writing her bio, suddenly things got out of control. so here i am, with my dumb little child and her dumb mun, but pls love me anyway asddfgjk ! also i’ve made a super basic connection page HERE but i also listed some very wanted connections in my intro ! oh and if you’d like to plot pls LIKE this post and i’ll jump in your IMs ! <3</small>

┅ ☆ ★ ✮ ∟ ‖ kim jennie. 22. female. she/her. ‖— camp fires , flushed cheeks , expensive perfume. 」did you hear that JEON YEJIN is planning on attending the next race ?! i won’t lie, i’m pretty excited to see their BLACK KAWASAKI NINJA H2 in person. i know people say they’re really WITTY , COMPASSIONATE & LOYAL , but don’t you think they come off way too INTERFERING , INDECISIVE & OVER-SENSITIVE ? i hear they’re always blasting TO MY YOUTH by BOLBBAGAN4 ? oh well, they’re a member of the HELLCATS so i guess i shouldn’t complain.

tbh no one had ever expected that fate would take such strange twists and her life would turn out to be like this

growing up as the youngest of two sisters, she actually had a pretty normal childhood. nothing traumatic or any of these things.

and no, she also wasn’t that one neglected child who was overshadowed by her older sibling. quite the contrary was actually the case, and it was her who received all the attention.

yejin, was the golden child in the family. and even at school she was liked by many.

since she was young she had an interest in martial arts and pestered her parents to let her at least try it and so they allowed her to attempt jiu jitsu. however, this little “attempt” soon turned into more and yejin found herself training everyday for several hours.

although her parents at first wanted her to do something different, something that would fit her “soft personality” they couldn’t say no to their favourite child and even accompanied her to all kinds of different competitions.

her name became known among people in this field and her future seemed bright. but with her growing popularity there were also people who were jealous of her. and while they could not outgrow her by their own skills there were other things they could do to get rid of her. and this was probably the moment where her life started to get messy.

they didn’t go for the old-fashioned “injuring her to that point she wouldn’t be able to fight anymore” method. instead, something more sinister was growing in their minds. yejin had crushed their pride when she won against them and they wanted revenge. and with only leaving her injured, she’d still be remembered as someone to look up. they wanted to ruin her, ruin her to that point that no one would even look at her anymore.

(because i’m too tired to write that all out i’m getting straight to the point ) they tried to pin a murder on her and they were successful.

suddenly, everyone who once adored her, hated her. and the adoration in their eyes turned to disgust. the people truly believed she was guilty and the people who did this to her were smart enough to make all the evidence point at her.

of course, yejin insisted on being innocent because she was. but after some time even her friends turned her back on her.

so with no one really helping her out, she was just handed in like that. and the judge declared her for guilty and she was send to prison.

there she remained for two years and when got out at the age of 21, when her case was reinvestigated and she was proven to be innocent.

still, a little naive as she was she could just continue with her life as it was, but oh boy she was wrong.

not only, did everyone else still saw her as a murderer, making it impossible to her to ever return to her old life and continue her career as an athlete, but also her parents turned her back on her.

the image of the golden child was long gone and they were embarrassed of her. they didn’t want their neighbours to talk about them and treated yejin as if she was never a part of their family to begin with. they didn’t care abouther anymore. she wasn’t perfect to them anymore. just a damaged good, too bothersome to repair.

her sister, which whom she didn’t have the best relationship to begin with, was happy about the attention their parents finally gave and yejin couldn’t blame her.

so here she was. with nowhere to go and keeping herself with part time jobs and some savings alive.

she was alone. and she hated it. she was always bad at handling loneliness and this time she really was lonely.

it wasn’t until a member ( WANTED CONNECTION ?? ) of the hellcats approached her. and as desperate she was she did join them. and despite of everything she started to see them as their family. a family that wouldn’t neglect her like her own just because people would spread lies about her.

while, she doesn’t agree with everything ( well, actually like 90 %) the hellcats do, yejin is still holding onto them. they’re the only thing she has and she turns a blind eye to the things they do. after all, they saved her so to her and if they were bad people they wouldn’t have done that. or at least that’s what she thinks.

personality and headcanons

truth to be told, yejin isn’t cut out to be a member of a gang. she’s too soft around the edges and perhaps the only thing that makes her suitable are her fighting skills and nothing more.

she knows that some people actually have already figured that out. and behind the rather distant and cool facade she likes to hide behind, is actually just a lost person desperately clinging to something like a family.

yes, yejin is that type of person who will cry at movies when she is watching them alone but as soon as someone is with her, she’ll pretend she’s tougher than she is , which causes her to sometimes find herself in difficult situations just because she wanted to prove someone wrong ( although they were right)

being more on the soft side, yejin always tries to understand where others are coming from, no matter what they’ve done. being accused of something she didn’t do, yejin learned to give always others the benefit of the doubt. something that might essentially be good if there weren’t others who’d make use of that trait.

while yejin isn’t the perfect match or someone one would describe as suitable for that life, she’s loyal to the bone. no, she won’t instantly beat you up when you utter something bad about the hellcats, because jiu jitsu isn’t meant to attack ( at least that is what her teacher liked to remind her of ), but being short-tempered as she is, a little provocation will make her ignore these words.

perhaps, it’s just her curious nature or perhaps she’s just straight up annoying, but yejin likes to meddle with other people businesses. she’s the that friend who always wants to know what’s going on, even if you aren’t that close and it happens often that she’d just take matters in her own hands because she “just wanted to help out”.

she doesn’t participate in races because tbh she doesn’t care much about them, and also she has a bike (which she has stolen from her father btw, after she found out that her family abandoned her ) so she can’t do it anyway.

she’s part of the security

wanted connections

a best friend: someone who always stood by her side, even after everything that happened to her. or perhaps someone she met later in the gang and both immediately hit off.

used to be best friends but grew apart because something bad happened between them ???

childhood friends that either still are close or have grown apart and coincidentally meet again

the person who introduced her to the hellcats: basically someone she’ll always be thankful to. they don’t necessarily have to be friends, but whatever the other person might feel about her yejin will still adore them and do everything for them because she thinks the owes something to them. ( jiwan )

“siblings” they treat each other like family and have a sibling like relationship. where they see yejin as the older/younger sister ( doyeon )

someone who was related to the victim of the said murderer: they might still believe it was yejin and might revenge that person’s death. or they might believe yejin and it’s awkward between them, or one of them tries to make up to the other.

someone who is always causing trouble and because yejin is part of the security she always has to deal with them. perhaps they might just do it beause they want to annoy her or bored or whatever shndssdn

messy exes pls?? perhaps they were a couple before the whole prison fiasco (why does this sound so funny to me?? ) and they broke up with her because of that. or yejin broke up with them bcs she felt bad for them and didn’t want her reputation to to also harm theirs. (minsu)

exes that still have feelings for each other but DRAMA and angSt???

AnYTHinG AnGstY ANYTHING!!!

#tempointro #tw murder #this is messy bhfsdknsdn #and i'm tired so i will head to bed after i posted this hjdsnsdj #also enjoy this cute jennie gif i'm soft dsndsd #and yeah only i'm so dumb to misspell my own friggin name fhsdnsfdbshknd #i gave her a bike bcs i have like no clue about cars and i even know less about bikes but i love them and they're cute and fun lmao

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knightofbalance-13 · 6 years ago

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Open Minded My Ass

https://rwdestuffs.tumblr.com/post/177129463289/the-claim-that-jaune-didnt-suffer-consequences-for

Needed to cover this as a precursor to another post.

Okay, I’m an open-minded guy. Let’s take a look here.

Dudeblade, you just screamed at a guy for defending Jaune, calling him a plebian. You’re as open minded as the alt-right, using even the same words.

Okay then. Let’s look at this misspelling-filled mess here. “jaune didnt suffer consequences” Okay then, let’s take a look as to what consequence jaune faced.

Dudeblade, there is ONE spelling mistake. Considering you are friends with Sokumotanaka who makes regular mistakes like this in his post, you really shouldn’t talk because this means that if someone agrees with you, you won’t dare to criticize them for anything even as they make the same flaws you berate in others.

And immediately, you just disproved yourself anon. If jaune’s actions result in Weiss getting hurt, then that means that the consequence for Yang rushing in to save Blake could have ended with Blake’s arm getting cut off, and that would have been Yang’s consequence.

here’s what Anon said:

the claim that jaune didnt suffer consequences for rushign in against cinder and bringing up how his life doesnt matter is bs weiss was the consequence and 2 people like to ignore yangs flaws claiming she had no other option, or ignore that a consistent fact about yang was her tendency to get impulsive and hot headed bumrushing the opponent and not thinking tactically overly reliant on her semblance like with neo, mercury in tournament, or even junior or nevermore. adam was just the last of

multiple cases sunder-the-gold.tumblr.com/post/155734266099 , and adam ended up getting hit by blake and knocked down for making a similar mistake when he lost himself to a blind rage ( fitting since their semblances are similar)

Mind pointing me to WHERE Anon said they suffered the EXACT same consequences?

Thing is Dudeblade: Your statement implies Yang and Jaune have the same character when that couldn’t be any more false. Yang is a confident character with immense strength so having all that confidence destroyed and her strength rendered useless drives home how she needs to change both to Yang and to the audience. Jaune meanwhile is weak and so self-loathing he’s SUICIDAL so hurting him is gonna do NOTHING. To make him suffer like Yang, the narrative needs to hurt the people around him. Because THEY are what he cares about, not HIMSELF.

But that’s not how it works. If Blake getting her arm cut off came as a result of Yang rushing in to save her, then that means that Weiss getting hurt came as a result for jaune wanting revenge.

Let’s continue with the rest of your poorly-researched rant.

Actually, if you’re gonna portray Jaune trying to avenge his best friend as bad, why don’t we go ahead and portray Yang’s actions that way? After all, Adam was facing her and not doing anything to Blake when she lunged at him so saving her friend is out, all that remains is that Yang was getting revenge for Blake.

Except Jaune had mental illnesses at the time and Yang didn’t. So even then, you should be bitching about Yang.

Oh and I don’t want to hear about poor research from a guy with a history of doing ZERO research.

Not comparable. When Yang saw Blake in trouble she had two options:

Rush in to save Blake.

Or…

Do nothing.

Let me fix this for you:

Rush in to get revenge for Blake

Or…

Do nothing.

As long as you devalue Jaune’s pain as just revenge, I’ll do the same for Yang.

If you can’t see how both are wrong/right, then you can continue to get angry about it.

Seriously. And Yang being overly-reliant on her semblance?- Uh, when? That time she fought against the mech?

She tactically used her semblance in every single fight. But I guess it’s easy to ignore that, since Taiyang’s criticisms came from the observations he made during the tournament, and the fact that there was literally no other time he could have seen Yang fighting tactically with her semblance.

And if Yang isn’t supposed to be so over-reliant on her semblance, then where is Weiss’ lecture about being so over-reliant on her summons?- Where’s Blake’s lecture about being so over-reliant on her shadow clones?

A. When she tried fight Neo, Mercury, Adam and that Ursa in her Volume 5 short.

B. He’s known Yang longer than you. He’d know that she’s risked her life all because she relies on her semblance.

C. So when Ben and Chad said that very same thing in her Death Battle against Tifa, they were wrong despite you having defended them?

And D. I counted the number of times Blake used her Semblance. Five times. That is less than once per Volume since one of those times was her Trailer. COmpare this to Yang who uses it seven times despite the fact that she spent two Volumes learning that she shouldn’t do that so much and we see a bigger reliance with her.

As for Weiss: you are assuming that no one will. She has only NOW gotten in trouble due to using her Summons. There hasn’t BEEN any time to call her out.

Counter point:

https://wingzeroalchemist.tumblr.com/post/171995787751/taiyang-was-right-yang-fought-poorly

Proof of Bias:

https://knightofbalance-13.tumblr.com/post/171677393605/parrots

@wingzeroalchemist doesn’t care about facts, he cares about irrationally defending Yang from all criticism.

It would have been fine here if you used his post to bring up specific points within to debunk Anon but you just used the whole thing so his bias can be used to discredit him.

Follow-up point, since I know that there’s probably going to be a response from someone about how “Adam moved away from Blake!” or how “Blake had aura!” or some shit like that.

For the first one: That’s a swordsman technique called Iaijutsu. it involves lunging toward the opponent while drawing the sword in a (typically) offensive manner. To be blunt: Adam didn’t step away from Blake, he lunged towards Yang with his attack.

And as for the second argument: Why would Yang know something that the audience didn’t know until Blake used her semblance to get away?- Typical armchair critic. Can’t take into account the situation that they’re in, so you criticize the character for (gasp!) not knowing something the audience knows!

If that’s how we’re doing it, then every single person at that school is an idiot for not knowing who Cinder is.

A. You provided no proof that this is true however we can see another example of Iaijutsu in the show...and it completely disproves your argument.

And I know you have to know this because the person I’m referring to is RAVEN.

https://youtu.be/CUYhvPoxuas?t=12m36s

Look at this movement.

And then look at this scene:

https://youtu.be/pT1XiUbJu_Y?t=14m53s

I can see Raven lunging in one...but not Adam in the other. His model is perfectly stationary after his slice aside from his arm moving. But if he lunged, his legs should have some follow through as well. Not only that but Adam’s stature before his attack doesn’t show him bowing down to lunge, it shows him standing. Only thing he could have done there is duck.

I might be an idiot and I couldn’t catch Adam’s movement but there’s nothing to indicate to me he lunged.

B. However, if we take a look at what ACTUALY people say, you start to see why that armchair critic stuff is bullshit:

“Why didn’t Yang just run up to him?”

“Why didn’t Yang just throw a table at him?”

“Why didn’t Yang try to use long range bullets to attack Adam or at least throw him off balance?”

Ect.

There are a lot of criticisms people make you’re just strawmanning.

And C. Just occurred to me, Blake rushed in against Adam, looked at Yang and then got Yang’s arm cut off. That’s EXACTLY how you described the situation with Jaune, Cinder and Weiss. So now you have to deal with the argument of “You don’t call Blake out on getting Yang’s arm cut off.” This is why you do research.

No. That’s not how it works. Adam got downed because he forgot about Blake’s sembalnce, and the animation showed Blake dodging into his sword. If it weren’t for that, Blake would also be cut in half.

A. You misspelled “Semblance” and forgot to capitalize the “S”. Again, I’m not the one who made misspelling an argument.

B. Wouldn’t that fall under the same thing as “Yang forgot she doesn’t do well against sword users?” Adam forgot because he was in a blind rage, Yang forgot because she was in a blind rage.

And C. https://youtu.be/5A5hRP1Hkbg?t=7m35s

No, Blake moved in the direction of the sword swipe but outside of it’s RANGE.

For fuck’s sake, you literally said that Weiss getting hurt is jaune’s consequence. Why the fuck should I take you seriously when you think that someone else getting hurt as a result of your own actions should be a sufficient punishment?

Because they understand that having Jaune get hurt and then think about his actions makes no sense since he just showed he was willing to die for his friends?

Let me inform you YET AGAIN about the events of Gurren Lagann. Kamina was killed as the result of Simon’s actions which sprurred his character development. Why? Because he LOVED Kamina like a brother while conversely he hated himself. Because having Simon hurt as the result of his actions wouldn’t hurt nearly as much or even at all.

If you rushed into a fight that you couldn’t win, and then someone else got hurt because of your actions, would they say that that casualty is your consequence?

YES.

Because they got hurt as a result of MY actions. Because I was reckless, one of my friends got hurt. It's the same logic Blake used when she ran away. And for good reason.

They would get on your case for causing that person to get hurt. Given the state the writing is in, there’s no evidence to believe that jaune will be suffering similar consequences. Especially since he got validated for starting that fight by getting to unlock his semblance. Now he gets to feel useful. Now he can feel like he can make a difference.

A. That’s...a consequence. Also why would you try to make the suicidal person feel worthless?

B. What state? You’ve thoroughly proven you can’t criticize worth a crap.

And C. No, he got to fix his mistake, just like Yang did.

So you’re basically upset Jaune got treated the same as Yang?

Or is it because something positive happened to Jaune and you’re so full of hate you think that’s a cardinal sin?

At the end of the day, jaune got positive reinforcement for his reckless actions, while Yang got negative reinforcement for hers.

Yang:

https://youtu.be/GaB62PeuFwM?t=7m39s

Jaune:

https://youtu.be/BrlaeR8dFbw?t=14m9s

I see the exact opposite.

Even more so in the narrative. Yang gets to have agency in her life as she chooses to recover and chooses to become better after she chooses an action that had bad aftermath but still succeeded in what she wanted while Jaune fails yet again to accomplish his goal, gets jerked around by the narrative yet again and even his development is just the result of the narrative jerking him around in a good way.

Or in other words: Yang gets more agency from her actions while Jaune gets less. (Which considering Jaune has next to none is pretty sad.)

Also, punctuation. Learn about it, jaune-anon.

I would like to remind people that:

A. he supports people who regularly forget punctuation and misspellings and yet they get praise from him.

And B. He’s now berating someone for having a different opinion than him after saying he was open minded.

Dudeblade, do you STILL not understand why you fail at criticism?

#dudeblade

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perksofbeingawaifu · 6 years ago

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Tagged in a TERRIBLE PROGRESS MEME by @mongoose-bite! Thanks crunchy!

Post a quote or short excerpt from your early days of writing/ARTING. (I’m talking old fanfics/ART, slash fics/ART, original fic/ART, etc., that are barely edited and have a ton of technical errors and misspelled words.) This is the cringe part. Don’t edit anything! Let it be horrendous. Don’t Panic.

Post a quote or short excerpt from one of your most recent works/WIPs. Something that you’re proud of. Something that you’ve written/ARTED that makes you smile when you read it.

Tag a writer/artist you admire, anyone who you think is amazing, new friends, followers, writeblrs, anyone who you’d like to know more about. If you think someone is a great writer/artist and you want to see how they’ve developed their skills, tag them! Everyone started somewhere.

1. Oh dear lord. Okay I hope you’re ready for...my ancient ass Harry Potter fic from when I was 13/14! Be warned!!!

The door opened. The woman at the stove turned around slowly. She looked sadly at the creature before her.

“So it's true. You've come back,” she murmured.

“I told you I couldn’t die.” He whispered back.

“But you were gone for so long. I thought…”

“You thought I was dead. You thought that boy, that child could defeat me??”

“NO! I thought…I…I don’t know what I thought. There were so many rumors. I heard the trees talking of things they’d heard from the centaur’s. But they’re only trees. Each story varied so much. So I thought it wasn’t real. They said the centaur’s foretold your arrival in the stars. I didn’t listen. I couldn’t. I was too afraid it wouldn’t be true.” She lowered her head to hide her tears.

“For thirteen years I waited,” his voice was angry and hurt. “THIRTEEN! I waited for you, my wife, to find me. I thought you of all would come for me-“

“Tom…please…I can’t leave…this is my sanctuary…I needed you as much as you needed me…please Tom understand…” she moaned.

He ignored her cries and grabbed her arm roughly. He continued staring through her, as though she weren’t there, his eyes burning with each word.

“-but I waited in vain. I fed as an animal feeds. I lived in the same conditions. Always hungry, always thirsty, but never whole. I was like a spirit. A ghost. And in that form I never felt. I was empty. I thought to myself, ‘She’s looking for me right now. Soon she’ll find me and we’ll plan our revenge together.’ But now you’re here. And I’ll have my own revenge.”

His grip on her arm tightened. She sunk to the floor and began pleading.

“Tom…please…don’t do this Tom…”

“DON’T CALL ME TOM!! I HATE THAT MUGGLE NAME!!”

He pulled her to her feet, grabbed his wand, and faced her face to his. She recoiled and looked away quickly.

“Do I frighten you that much?” he whispered. His grip loosened in shock. “Do you hate me that much?”

“Tom,” she stared adoringly up to him. She still used the muggle name but he didn’t oppose. There was such innocence in her eyes as she said it. “I love you Tom.

“After you were…gone…my brother…he…he hunted me. He trapped me here in this forest. He was so powerful in his anger. I’m sorry.”

“I’m getting you out of here then. I’ll take you back.”

She stood up to her full height and leaned in to kiss him. He jerked his head away suddenly.

“What’s that?” he hissed. “Who else is here?”

“When my brother trapped me here he took every artifact of the dark arts I had, except for,” her eyes lit up, “Rafael.”

“What’s Rafael?” he asked.

“Rafael!” she called.

“Yeah mum?” A curly dark haired boy entered the room. His eyes were coal black but when the light hit them a certain way they glinted red. “Is everything okay mum?” he asked apprehensively eyeing the figure in the shadows.

“Rafael, this is your father,” she paused watching Rafael’s reaction. “Lord Voldemort.”

I mean, who among us didn’t want a sexy moody teen as Lord Voldemort’s son? *cringe*

2. Here have a snippet from darkstag

Levi sighed and stood up. “You know those stupid mitten kits? You want to know what happens to them? Every year girls toss their mittens off the bridge hoping to find their soulmates. And every year people pick them up and you know where they take them? They bring them back to me. Look.”

He pulled open one of the lower drawers on the cabinets that Eren had never seen opened. Inside were dozens of left handed mittens.

“Do you know how the spell works? I tell them to knit the first one for themselves, knit their hopes, their dreams, their aspirations. It sounds like bullshit, but the first one is a spell for themselves first. To find happiness, to find who you are. The second is for happiness for a person you haven’t met yet. Its purpose is to will someone to you. That’s what it’s supposed to do anyway.

“My mother wrote this spell because, god rest her soul, she believed in love. She continued to believe in all this romantic bullshit even though she fled across two different countries because she was so terrified of my father. So that’s it, Eren. Magic. Spells. They’re just a reflection of you and your intentions. It’s just you. This was my mother, this was all of her, just a bunch of single mittens. She believed in love, it just didn’t believe in her.”

3. I’m tagging.... @monsoondownpour @fluffymusketeer @sugarplum-senpai @omglevixeren @die-forellex @bfketh @glassesgirl0401 @attraversiamo19 @chenziee @plumscent @elliperelli @im-eren-jaeger-sexual @erensjaegerbombs @eren--gayger @erenfanclub @afternoonteawithme @datwriterwannabe @bi-chrome and whoever else wants to do it!

#tag meme #long post #hp #ereri #snk #my writes #GOD I CRINGE SO HARD

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atlszine · 7 years ago

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The Used

Description: Formed all the way back in 2001, The Used started out as just “Used”, as friends claimed they felt when band members ignored them to focus on the band. In the nearly 17 years since, they’ve released 7 albums: The Used, In Love and Death, Lies for the Liars, Shallow Believer, Artwork, Vulnerable, Imaginary Enemy, and The Canyon. Their track, “The Taste of Ink”, off their self-titled album, is their most streamed, but they also have many other popular tracks.

Why They’re Like My Chemical Romance: Especially in their earlier albums, The Used has a similar punk rock influence and a similar semi-heavy style to My Chemical Romance. The two have often been associated, having toured together and even collaborated on a cover of Queen’s “Under Pressure”. Though the two bands parted with bad blood, the association remains, and if you like MCR’s earlier works, you’ll certainly enjoy The Used as well.

Track Recommendations: The Taste of Ink, Kissing You Goodbye, I Caught Fire, All That I’ve Got, Pretty Handsome Awkward

Palaye Royale

Description: Formed in 2008 as Kropp Circle but changing in 2011 to the often-misspelled Palaye Royale, Palaye is a band made up of three brothers. They were the first unsigned band to win MTV’s Music March Madness Awards. They have released one EP, The Ends Beginning, and one album, Boom Boom Room (Side A). They are hoping to release another album, Boom Boom Room (Side B), in 2018. Their most popular track is “Mr. Doctor Man.” Catch them at Vans Warped Tour this summer!

Why They’re Like My Chemical Romance: Though Palaye has their own special 80s inspired-glam rock style, they have drawn numerous comparisons to MCR, including Classic Rock describing them as “crashing from My Chemical Romance-influenced rock to New York Dolls-ish punk via dashes of Stones-y blues.” They also have received attention through their cover of My Chemical Romance’s “Teenagers.”

Track Recommendations: Mr. Doctor Man, Don’t Feel Quite Right, Ma Chérie, Warhol, Get Higher

Creeper

Description: Creeper was formed only four years ago in Southhampton, England. So far, they have released three EPs as well as an album, Eternity, in Your Arms, that debuted at number 18 on the UK charts. They have been often described as a “horror punk band.” Their song “Hiding With Boys” is their most streamed Spotify track, followed by their single “Misery.”

Why They’re Like My Chemical Romance: The lead singer Will Gould has a distinctive voice that reminds me a lot of MCR somehow, and the horror punk aesthetic they tend to go for is reminiscent of Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge and The Black Parade. They’ve got a similar style, drawing inspiration from similar influences. They also participated in Rock Sound’s covers of The Black Parade, covering “This Is How I Disappear”.

Track Recommendations: Misery, Hiding With Boys, Black Rain, Honeymoon Suite, Winona Forever

PUP

Description: The band’s name stands for “Pathetic Use of Potential”, but the band was originally called Topanga. Though they formed recently in 2013, they have released two albums, PUP and The Dream Is Over. They have played a number of bigger festivals in the past few years. Their top track on Spotify is “DVP”, off their 2016 album The Dream Is Over.

Why They’re Like My Chemical Romance: They have a similar punk-inspired feel to their music that’s reminiscent of older MCR albums. Vocalist Stefan Babcock also has an emotive vocal style, similar to Gerard Way’s. PUP has also toured with former MCR member Frank Iero, suggesting that they have similar styles.

Track Recommendations: Pine Point, DVP, Reservoir, Guilt Trip, Doubts

Envy on the Coast

Description: Formed in 2003 in Long Island, New York, Envy on the Coast were active from 2003-2010, broke up, and then reformed in 2016. They are still active to this day. Over the course of their career, they released two albums: Lucy Gray in 2007 and Lowcountry in 2009. Their top Spotify track is “Like I Do”, off their 2009 album, Lowcountry.

Why They’re Like My Chemical Romance: Their genre has been described using a variety of words similar to those used for My Chemical Romance, such as emo, post-hardcore, and alternative rock. They’ve also got the emotive vocal style. In addition, they’ve been associated with a variety of acts that are similar to My Chemical Romance, including Taking Back Sunday, who they toured with often.

Track Recommendations: Clean of You, Sugar Skulls, Like I Do, Head First in the River, Virginia Girls

Bands Formed By Former Members of MCR:

Frank Iero & the Patience/frnkiero and the cellabration

After the breakup of MCR, Frank Iero, former rhythm guitarist, set out on his own and created some great solo music. It’s more reminiscent of MCR’s early work and draws more inspiration from punk and hardcore, but it’s definitely worth checking out.

Track Recommendations: Oceans, Blood Infections, Joyriding, Tragician, Weighted

LeATHERMØUTH

During 2007-2010, Frank Iero took on hardcore/post-hardcore band LeATHERMØUTH as his side project. The music is a little harder than MCR’s, but if that’s your thing, definitely give it a listen!

Track Recommendations: Leviathan, Bodysnatchers 4 Ever, 5th Period Massacre, I Am Going to Kill the President, Sunsets Are for Mugging

Death Spells

Another side project of Frank Iero’s (as well as James Dewees’, a former that was originally started in 2012 while MCR was still recording, Death Spells is an interesting electronic punk band that has been described by many as music that could be played at a gothic rave. If this sounds like your thing, give em a listen.

Track Recommendations: where are my fucking pills?, hell all-american, fantastic bastards, end of life, diluted

Electric Century

Formed by former bassist Mikey Way and David Debiak after MCR disbanded, Electric Century is a rock/indie group that releases genuinely enjoyable music - a little more poppy than MCR, but still great.

Track Recommendations: I Lied, Let You Get Away, Hey Lacey, Right There, Hail the Saints

In addition, Ray Toro and Gerard Way have released great solo music that you should definitely give a listen! Frank Iero also has more bands, including pre-MCR Pencey Prep.

#my chemical romance #frank iero #gerard way #mikey way #ray toro #the used #palaye royale #creeper #PUP #envy on the coast #electric century #frank iero and the patience #death spells #leathermouth #madeline #tuesdays #if you like

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imagine-loki · 7 years ago

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Irked

Title: Irked

Author lokilover9

Chapter 3

Original Imagine: Imagine due to having highly effective telekinesis, Tony Stark seeks you out and hires you. Loki’s been forced to live there by Odin and help on missions when needed, making penance to Midgardians. Prior to moving into the Tower, you learn of his superior and arrogant attitude and upon being introduced, immediately dislike him. Particularly because he looks at you like your his next meal.

Notes: Some words have been purposely misspelled due to the characters alcohol consumption. Silly girls. ;)

That Friday evening, Shandi and Nat were in her apartment getting ready to go out and Nat was doing her makeup.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Shandi asked.

“I think so. This eyeshadow goes great with your big blue eyes.”

“No, I mean letting Loki see me before I go out. If I want him to stop ogling me so rudely, won’t this only encourage him?”

Nat began doing her brows. “Tell me something. Has he touched you inappropriately at all?”

“No. I definitely would have gone to Tony about that, after popping him one of course. God or not.”

“Good girl. Has he said anything rude to you of a sexual nature?”

“No.” Said Shandi.

“Then why does it matter to you what he thinks?”

Her eyes remained closed as Nat kept working. “It doesn’t. I don’t care what he thinks. Why would I? Couldn’t he just show a little decency and not look at me like I’m an object?”

Nat smirked as she applied her blush. “You know you’re far more than just that, right?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I’m not saying what he’s doing is alright Shandi, but he’s probably bored. He can’t irritate any of us because we’re too familiar with his shit and Tony might send him back to Asgard. You’re the new kid on the block and now his present muse.”

She expelled an annoyed sigh. “Perfect. I’ll be glad when he finds another.”

‘Sure you will.’ Nat thought. “Revenge can be sweet, beautiful.” She stated. “Give him a taste of his own medicine and we’ll go out and have a blast.” She fluffed up Shandis hair. “You can look now.”

Shandi opened her eyes. “Holy shit! You’re good at this, thanks!”

“No problem. Now let’s get you dressed and we’ll go tell Clint where to meet us later.”

As usual, Loki was reading in the library when Nat nonchalantly appeared at the door. Black high heels, skin tight, powder blue jeans, a black belt around the waist, short sleeve, snug fitting black top, see through from the breasts down, makeup and hair perfect, she looked beautiful as he glanced up from his pages.

“Seen Clint around?” She asked.

“I believe he’s in the gym.”

“Thanks.”

She no sooner walked away and Loki went back to his book, when hearing Shandis voice from down the hall.

“Natasha!”

He listened as Nat stopped to respond.

“I thought you were holding the elevator beautiful?”

“I was, but didn’t you want to give Clint his phone?”

Loki watched the door as her voice got closer.

“You tossed it into the bag with our flats, I think.”

The two met up right outside the library door and Loki got a good look as they stood talking. Shandi was wearing red high heels, skin tight dark jeans that highlighted the shape of her hips and ass perfectly, a white cotton shirt covered in delicate lace just snug enough in all the right places to highlight her full, d cup breasts and small waist, with narrow straps over the shoulders. Her long, wavy dark hair was styled to one side and makeup so perfect, her steely blue eyes sent a shockwave through Loki when she glanced briefly in his direction. Shandi ignored him, but could feel the intensity of his stare from thirty feet away and her pulse quickened as she spoke with Nat.

“Is this it? I heard it buzz loudly and tried to reach for it while holding the door open, but it stopped.”

Nat took it from her. “It is, thanks. The night awaits us girl, go get that elevator again.”

Shandi turned her back towards Loki when walking away from Nat, giving him a perfect view of her ass before leaving his sights and Nat went in the direction of the gym. Immediately, he moved to the doorway and watched her walk away as Nat quickly peeked around the corner and saw him do it. When Nat passed by again, he made it appear as though he was just leaving the room.

“Clint’s fortunate to have such a lovely date this evening. You look very nice.”

“Thanks. I’ll tell Shandi you said so, she’s my date tonight. Girls night out.” She kept walking, smiling slyly at his curiously raised brow from over her shoulder. “Chow.”

Just as she slid from his sights, Clint came down the hall towards him. “Aren’t you concerned letting your lady go out alone in this massive city?”

“Not that it’s any of your business there Cactus, but no. Nats quite the weapon as you know and her dates pretty clever too. I’m sure they’ll be fine. Nat knows where the best clubs are.”

He walked on and unimpressed, Loki went back into the library. He’d learned since coming to Midgard what going clubbing meant and the thought of many eyes ogling Shandi, oddly Irked him. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do about it.

Nat got in the elevator and the door closed. “Nice touch mentioning the phone buzzing. Are you ready to have some fun?”

“Actually I wasn’t kidding, it did. I’m not sure what I pushed reaching into the bag for it.”

“No worries. I’ll tell Clint later, he’ll figure it out. You did good back there. I could feel the agitation brewing beneath Loki’s skin.”

Shandi leaned against the wall, looking to the ceiling. “Oh great, I’ve agitated The God of Mischief. This was so immature of me. What was I thinking?”

Nat laughed. “Are you always this neurotic? Relax, he’ll get over it.”

“Yes, but aren’t we doing exactly what Tony was? Instigating him?”

“Trust me. Giving Loki a rash is only one way Tony tried instigating him. Have you heard the way those two go at each other? Pssh, they sound like a married couple for fuck sakes. Think of how clever you are. Loki needed magic to prank you and without an ounce of trickery, you did it right back.”

Shandi smiled as the elevator door opened. “You’re right, I did.”

“Never underestimate yourself. Now let’s get a taxi and enjoy the rest of the evening okay? It’s all on me.”

“Nat, you don’t have to…”

“Ah, not another word beautiful. Let’s go.” ~~~~~~~ Upon returning much later, the ladies were passing by Loki’s apartment with their arms around each other, headed towards Shandis.

“My freakin’ feets are killing me.” Said Shandi. “Imma take off me shoesies.”

She stopped unexpectedly, gripping Nats shoulder while trying to remove one and lost her balance. Toppling to the floor, she took Nat with her, landing on her ass with Nat laying sideways on her lap looking away from her.

“Oh oh. Sowwy Natskies.”

Nat turned to face her. “Dafuq is wrong witchyu woman? You couldn’t like..let the hell go first maybe?” As they were struggling to remain upright, Loki opened his door. They glanced up at him, looked back at each other and burst into laughter.

Loki rolled his eyes and leaned against the door frame. “Well then, isn’t this an attractive sight.”

Nat smiled, took Shandis jaw between her fingers and pressed a kissed to her lips with her eyes closed. Shandis widened and Loki smirked at her reaction. Nat ended the kiss, placing her cheek against Shandis lips and looked up at him. “I’m having a moment with my date.” She gestured with her hand that he go back inside. “Be off unespected intruder.”

“That’s un ‘ex’ pected intruder Natskies.” Said Shandi. Then she looked up at Loki. “And yeah. We don’t need spectitters.”

His brows raised. “I see.”

“Nat.” Shandi whispered. “Can you do my shoesies?”

“Suuure girl!” She leaned forwards and clumsily removed Shandis shoes, tossing them at Loki’s legs and one flew past his door. Nat smiled and Shandi shook her head.

“I’m not gettin’ that, you do it.”

“Iss yur problem woman, go for it.”

Shandi stared at her like she had three heads. “Nope.”

At this point, Steve heard the ruckus and opened his door. Nat was still lying sideways on Shandis lap, facing her with her arm over her hip and hand resting on the floor.

Loki looked at Steve and crossed his arms. “Welcome to the party.”

“Nat, what are you doing?” Asked Steve.

She placed a finger to her lips. “Shhhh, in a minute.” Still perpendicular to Shandi, Nat shifted and laid the back of her head on Shandis lap, then lifted her legs and feet in the air towards her reach.

“Do my shoes?”

Loki looked at Steve again. “You missed the romantic kiss, but this may be even more entertaining.”

Shandi, with the tip of her tongue hanging out, reached up to grab Nats foot and pulled her shoe with such force, she spun her partially around on the floor and fell backwards onto it herself. Nat landed on her elbows with her leg hanging over Shandis stomach and started laughing.

Steve approached and picked her up. “Damn Nat. How much vodka did you get into this time and where’s Clint?”

Shandi started laughing while pointing at Nat. “She left him sleepin’ in the car!”

“Yep, did too.” She proudly stated.

“So he joined you did he?” Asked Loki.

“Yep. Hurled huge in the taxi too and the driver gonna sue Tony’s ass.”

“Is that so? I’m sure he’ll be impressed.”

“Wait.” Said Steve. “Who’s car is he in then?”

“His dummy.” Said Nat.

“How did that happen?”

Shandi chuckled while still lying on the floor. “He said he wanted somethin’ from it and made us go..down to the garage there too.”

“Yeah.” Said Nat. “Then the dumbass jus’ crawled into the back seat and..(she dismissively waved her hand)..passed out there so fuck em.’”

“Nat, your language.” Said Steve.

“What about it pops? You wanna go?”

Shandi had closed her eyes while laughing at Nat when two strong hands slipped beneath her arms and quickly lifted her to her feet. She grasped at the green fabric blurred before her, leaning into the firm chest it was attached to.

Steve and Nat went quiet, observing the interaction.

Letting go, Loki stared at her and Shandi froze momentarily in his piercing gaze. “Let me know if you need any further assistance.” He calmly stated.

Shandis heart pounded as she slowly backed away. “No..no I’m good thanks.” She bent over to pick up her one shoe and when losing her balance, Loki grabbed her arm until she gathered it before letting go again. She glanced at him, then to Nat. “Imma go to bed now. Had fun, but need bed. Bye.”

Nat winked at her. “Bye beautiful.”

As Shandi turned the corner, Loki went to re enter his apartment and the door abruptly slammed in face. He shot an angry glare in her direction and Nat smirked.

“Play nice now darling.”

With an unamused sigh, he entered and re slammed the door. Stepping further in, he discovered some pieces of furniture flipped over and chuckled. “Nothing I can’t fix.”

“What was that all about asked Steve?”

“Nuttin.’ Nighty night Cappy.”

After removing her other shoe, Nat walked away and Steve called to her. “Are you actually going to leave Clint in the car?”

“He reeks. You go get ‘em.”

Shandi tossed her shoe to the floor, locked her apartment door and headed towards the bedroom. She couldn’t recall leaving the bedside lamp on, but was too tired to care. After using the washroom, she yanked down her covers in her underwear and top, crawled onto her side and quickly drifted off. Thinking she was dreaming, the softness of her blankets were then dragged up her body and stopped at her waistline. Then ever so slowly, what felt like the tip of a finger softly trailed down her neck, along her shoulder and down half the length of her arm. It ignited a tingling sensation that ran down her spine, fluttering through her very core and she startled from her sleep. Still in a haze, she quickly glanced around, but soon drifted off again.

Loki stood invisible in the doorway of her bedroom thinking of all the ways he wanted to ravish and devour her. ‘Deny it all you like Shandi, you’ll never succeed. I can smell your arousal every time you’re near me and will enjoy marking you as my own.’ He chuckled quietly before leaving. ‘Sleep well darling. It’s only a matter of time.’

#Loki #God of Mischief #Submitted fic #submission #irked #chapter 3 #lokilover9 #telekinesis #tony stark #hires #odin #mission #penance #tower #superior #arrogant #introduced #dislike

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the-master-cylinder · 5 years ago

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SUMMARY The reptilian alien creatures in the film were works of stop motion animation by animator David W. Allen, marking the first chapter in a decades-long history of collaboration between Allen and Band. The alien spacecraft model featured in Laserblast was designed and built by Greg Jein in two weeks, and the musical score was written in five days by Joel Goldsmith and Richard Band, the first film score for both composers.

A green-skinned man wanders through the desert with a laser cannon attached to his arm. A spaceship lands and two aliens emerge, one of whom shoots the man, which disintegrates his body. The aliens depart on their spaceship, leaving behind the laser cannon and a metallic pendant the man was wearing. Teenager Billy Duncan wakes up in his bed, seemingly disturbed, and learns his mother is leaving for vacation. He goes to visit his girlfriend Kathy, but her deranged grandfather Colonel Farley makes him leave before he can see her. As Billy drives around town, he is harassed by bullies Chuck Boran and Froggy, and by two police deputies who give him a speeding ticket. Billy wanders into the desert and discovers the laser cannon and pendant. He starts playing with the cannon, pretending to shoot things, then realizes he can fire the weapon while wearing the pendant. Meanwhile, on the alien spacecraft, the two aliens converse with their leader who shows them footage of Billy using the cannon, prompting the aliens to turn their ship around to head back to Earth. Context implies that the two aliens, upon departing Earth, left the cannon and pendant behind under the presumption that no other human would be able to use them as the green-skinned man had, but they have now learned that they were in error.

Billy and Kathy attend a pool party where Chuck and Froggy attempt to rape Kathy. When Billy discovers them, a fight breaks out but Kathy stops it; knowing Chuck and Froggy would outmatch Billy. Later that night, Billy uses the laser cannon to explode Chuck’s car, and Chuck and Froggy barely escape the explosion alive. Government official Tony Craig arrives to investigate both the explosion and the desert where Billy found the cannon. Tony informs the local sheriff that the town must be sealed off. Feeling sick due to an unusual growth on his body, Billy visits Dr. Mellon, who surgically removes a metallic disc from Billy’s chest. Mellon calls the police laboratory technician Mike London to arrange for the disc to be investigated. A green-skinned Billy opens fire on Mellon’s car that evening, killing him in an explosion. The next day, Tony investigates the wreckage and recovers unusual material, which he brings to Mike London, who concludes it is an alien material that cannot be destroyed.

At night, the green-skinned Billy takes his revenge out on the two police deputies for interrogating him about Dr. Mellon’s death and kills both of them at a gas station. The next day, Kathy puts the pendant on Billy’s chest while they are laying together outside. Billy immediately wakes up with green skin and deformed teeth and attacks Kathy, but she escapes. Law enforcement officials shoot at Billy from an aircraft, but Billy destroys the aircraft with the cannon, and later kills Chuck and Froggy by blowing up their car. While Tony questions Colonel Farley and Kathy about Billy, the two aliens land on Earth and begin searching for Billy. After killing a man and stealing his van, Billy travels into a city and goes on a rampage, shooting random objects with the laser cannon and fires at his surroundings. Kathy and Tony arrive in the city and locate Billy, as the aliens spot Billy from atop a building and shoot him, which kills Billy and destroys the laser cannon. The aliens depart in their spacecraft and Kathy cries over Billy’s corpse.

DEVELOPMENT Laserblast was produced by Charles Band, who is widely known as a writer, producer, and director of B movies. Band described the film as a “revenge story” with a simple premise that he thought would be fun for the audience. It was Band who conceived the title of the film with the hopes that it would grab the attention of audiences. Band said, “Most of the films that I made, that I conceived, that I was very involved with and in some cases directed, definitely started with the title and usually a piece of artwork that made sense. Then I would work back to the script and the story and make the movie.”

The script was written by Frank Ray Perilli and Franne Schacht. Elements of the story were inspired by science fiction films, such as Star Wars (1977), and Close Encounters of the Third Kind (1977), while the characteristics of protagonist Billy Duncan a disenchanted middle-class teen from a suburban setting mirror those of James Dean’s character in Rebel Without a Cause (1955).

Laserblast was directed by Michael Rae, marking his only directorial credit. Filming took place over three weekends and was made “for virtually no money”. .Band wanted Laserblast to be a “mini-Star Wars”, and at one point in the film, a disparaging reference is made when Billy fires his laser gun at a Star Wars billboard, resulting in a tremendous explosion. During another scene, a police officer is confronted by a frightened teenager, who the officer dismissed as crazy by saying, “He’s seen Star Wars five times!”

Billy is ignored and abandoned by his mother early in the film, demonstrating the dangers that can result from uncaring parents, one of the major themes of the script. The film also highlights the hypocrisy of police officers, particularly during a scene in which the two deputies smoke marijuana they obtained from teenagers. Commentators[who?] have pointed out several inaccuracies and plot-holes in the Laserblast script. John Kenneth Muir raised several of these issues in his book, Horror Films of the 1970s: “How does Kathy’s dad know Craig, the government agent? Why do the aliens leave behind the rifle and the pendant in the first place? Why does the weapon turn its owner into a monstrous green-skinned brute?” Band explained in a 2006 interview that the more Billy uses the gun, “the more it sort of takes over his soul”. Janet Maslin, film critic with The New York Times, pointed out that originally, when Billy wakes up immediately after the aliens kill the man with the laser cannon, it appears that incident was a dream. Later, however, it turns out to have actually happened after all.

CASTING Kim Milford, who had previously appeared in the original Broadway theatre production of Hair and the first production of The Rocky Horror Show, starred in the leading role of Laserblast, marking his first major motion picture appearance. Cheryl Smith, who later received greater recognition for her appearances in B movies and exploitation films, appeared in the lead female role of Kathy Farley. Smith disliked the role because she felt it was poorly written and that she did not receive enough rehearsal time. Gianni Russo, best known for playing Carlo Rizzi in The Godfather (1972), was cast as government investigator Tony Craig.

Laserblast marks the screen debut of Eddie Deezen, who went on to play other archetypal nerd roles in films like Grease (1978), which was filmed before Laserblast started production, Grease 2 (1982), and Midnight Madness (1980). During a 2009 interview, Deezen remembered little about Laserblast, other than that it was a “shoddy production”. Roddy McDowall portrays Dr. Mellon in the film, and his name is misspelled “McDowell” in the end credits. Keenan Wynn, a long-time character actor from a show business family, portrayed Colonel Farley, who provides comic relief as Kathy’s crazed, paranoid delusional grandfather and former military man. The filming for Wynn’s small role was finished in one day. Screenwriter Franne Schacht made a cameo appearance as the sheriff’s secretary in the film.

PRODUCTION The 3-Week Alien For Kim Milford, the star of Laserblast, his indoctrination into the world of SF film was an enjoyable but hazardous experience. Kim, who starred in The Rocky Horror Picture Show, went through the rigors of makeup and special effects for the first time, but managed to survive and smile about it. It was all great fun,” he states from his California home. I’ve always wanted to play an alien ever since I was a kid. And the ad copy is great … ‘Billy was a kid who got pushed around, then he found the power. One producer friend told me it was the story of my life. When I was a kid. I was pushed around. Then I was suddenly in show business, showing all these people up.”

Although the theme of Laserblast may have been slightly autobiographical, the alien transformation certainly isn’t. I have these strange eyes and a Phantom of the Opera-type forehead It’s all appliances, like the makeup in Planet of the Apes.” Kim, a novice at the tribulations of makeup wizardry found the initial alien experience a bit trying. It took about three-and-a-half hours to put on and was hard to get used to. In the beginning, they covered my head in plaster to make a life mask. I felt like I had a rock welded into my neck. They then designed my appliances using the life mask. When I had the actual makeup on, it was hard to keep my hands away from it. After seven or eight hours with it on, you just want to tear it off. You get very claustrophobic.”

Another hazard of the alien role was the danger of the makeup peeling off. “That’s tough when you’re filming in the desert. I’m not used to wearing contact lenses, either, and I had to wear very strange alien eyeballs. In the hot sun, my own eyeballs really got messed up. I almost went blind from having the lenses in too long: scratched my cornea and everything. But that’s the price you have to pay to be a starring alien,” Kim laughs.

The rigorous lifestyle of Billy/Kim had its light moments. Kim winces good-naturedly as he recalls Laserblast ‘s hectic three week shooting schedule. For a while,” he confesses, “I didn’t know what I was doing or where I was. I was working on this film and Corvette Summer (1978) with Mark Hamill at the same time, day and night. I was working on Laserblast one day and that night I had to go to MGM for a wrap-up party on Corvette Summer. The only way the Laser crew would let me go to the party was if I promised to wear the alien makeup so, when I returned, we could start shooting again. I had to take my makeup lady with me to make sure

SPECIAL EFFECTS Stop-motion animator David Allen talks about his new science fiction film and the problems of doing model animation special effects on a modest budget. What might seem at first glance as just another exploitation ripoff of STAR WARS is actually an interesting little science fiction film produced by the Charles Band company, featuring superior stop-motion sequences designed and directed by David Allen. The project began in earnest during late Spring 1977 and was slated for Thanksgiving release, but the producers were inspired by the eerie effectiveness of the animation and allocated additional time and money for new special effects footage. Oddly enough, David Allen’s involvement with the film was a fluke that stemmed from his association with Steve Neill, who designed the alien makeup appliances and special effects props, and played an alien in the film’s first reel.

Dave Allen had gotten Steve Neill several jobs in fantasy films, one on Kingdom of the Spiders (1977) and another one building the full-size head of The Crater Lake Monster (1977). Neill had previously worked for Charles Band on one of his productions. While Band was preparing Laserblast, Steve Neill found himself extremely interested in Dave Allen’s PRIMEVALS project. Both Allen and animator Randy Cook had just finished an early draft of the script, and a note of optimism was raised when Neill remarked that he knew someone who might be interested in the property. A short time later, Neill mentioned PRIMEVALS to Charles Band and another producer. “I had several copies of the script printed,” recalled Allen, “and Charlie was given one. He read it, but it took him weeks to read it–so long, in fact, that I felt he was not that interested in it. However, Steve Neill was very enthusiastic about PRIMEVALS and asked me to send, via him, my sample reel of animation. Charlie looked at it, and although he thought it was interesting, he spoke in a somewhat distant way about the project. He did say, however, that he had a project of his own called Laserblast, and on the basis of the footage he had seen, he wanted me to create animated models of the aliens instead of having actors in makeup as originally planned. Steve was to do those makeups, so it might sound like he screwed himself out of a job, but Steve was very enthusiastic about the potential of animation. And I told Charlie that for the amount of time and money he was giving to the assignment, there was no way I could do all of it in stop-motion. I would have to have at least one of the aliens as an actor in makeup, while the two animated puppets would be chasing him as outlined in the story. So Steve wound up playing the part in his own makeup. I was able to play a lot of the shots to him so that I could cut away from the animation whenever I needed to.”

Dave Allen was given a schedule of about eight weeks in which to complete all of the animated scenes. Assisted by the husband-and-wife team of Steve and Ve Neill and camera assistant Pault Gentry, Allen went out to the Mojave Desert and photographed all of the background plates in one afternoon. Back at Allen’s Burbank studio, process projection setups were designed while Jon Berg began sculpting the prototypes for the lizard men and built armatures for them. Randy Cook, who co-animated THE CRATER LAKE MONSTER with Phil Tippett, was hired as the principal animator for Laserblast. Modelmaker Greg Jein designed and built the spacecraft seen in the film, and Dave Carson designed the interior of the ship. “I’m basically producing and directing these sequences,” said Allen, who also had to hold down his full time position as Stop-Motion Director at CPC in Hollywood while working on the film. “I’m animating some of it, but unfortunately I’m not doing as much as I wish I could be doing. I designed all the shots and supervised without trying to be a little Napoleon.”

Laserblast was originally projected for a November release, but new ideas began to generate. An answer print was made containing uncleared music from Bernard Herrmann scores, and due to the good reception that the stop-motion sequences received, more footage was requested by distributor Irwin Yablans and several other prospective distributors whom Charles Band met in Italy when he previewed footage to acquire overseas distribution.

The new stop-motion additions carry the characters in the first part of the film and develop the buildup to a climax in a more exciting way. “We’ve created some new scenes in space inside a rocketship, having the aliens watch some scenes back on Earth, and being ordered by their commander to go back and resolve the mess that resulted from leaving behind a laser gun. This necessitated the building of the miniature interior. One new scene shows the aliens finding a car that gets burned up. They begin to look for the finder of the laser gun at the scene of a wreck, which brings us back into the shot already filmed where they gun him down. It’s a bit more interesting now you see them tracking the bad guy instead of having them suddenly appear at the end. It’s still a small amount of additional animation.”

The stop-motion puppets are a treat. There was a desire expressed at the outset to use the lizard man models Dave had built ten years ago for test footage on his RAIDERS OF THE STONE RINGS, but since new duplication of those figures will be used in PRIMEVALS, Dave was adamant on having different ones made for Laserblast. Jon Berg did some prototypes in wax, Dave Allen made suggestions, and Jon did the sculptures. The armatures came last. “I had to make the mold and cast three figures and paint them,” said Allen. “I think Jon did a really nice job with he puppets. Had I done them myself, however, it would’ve been quite different.”

The result was a sympathetic sort of creature with an almost cute, turtle-like lead and a gnarled, tree-like body. “I don’t know if Jon intended them to look sympathetic,” added Allen, “but it worked out to the advantage of the script because they turn out to be the good guys of the story, if you can call them that. They even get a few laughs in the picture. They’re not scary monsters tearing up the countryside. I think their features really helped to reinforce that impression.”

The two alien vigilantes were affectionately referred to during animation as Mr. Brown and Mr. Green, and the third alien the commander of the two appears on a telescreen inside the spaceship in the new footage. Only thirteen inches high, they appear to be seven feet tall and were animated in four basic sequences. Medium two shots of the puppets from the waist up were photographed from four different angles and animated by Dave Allen. Certain tricks were done in the camera during animation. A ray from the puppet’s laser gun, or example, was reflected in via a two-way mirror without resorting to opticals or super impositions. Interestingly, the stage on which the models were bolted down was made of a special acrylic plastic, and with good reason. “Using that material, you can see the bottoms of the feet from below and decide where to drill for your holes. It might seem here would be a problem with light reflections bouncing back up to the creatures, but in actual fact that rarely seems to happen. I have other stages that are pre-drilled, but I couldn’t use them because the holes were too large for the creatures’ tiny feet.”

Stop-motion had applications not only or the aliens but for Greg Jein’s rocketship as well. While several shots used a cutout of the ship itself, many were done with the miniature braced on music wire in front of a process image. The trick is to photograph a slight pendulum movement to avoid strobe problems. It isn’t easy. “You want the model to swing during exposure. You don’t get a true blur you get an exposure on each end of the swing and a sort of blur in between. It’s better than an absolutely sharp frame. It depends on the scale of the model of course, but you shouldn’t try to move it more than 3/8 inch per frame.”

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This technique might seem to smack of Earth vs. the Flying Saucers (1956), but it is rather obvious that Ray Harryhausen did not animate his saucer miniatures that way throughout the picture. “Ray no doubt used wires in some shots of his saucers,” observed Allen, “but for the most part the models probably had a rod brace that went back to a sheet of acrylic or glass, with the models matting out their own supports in front of the process image. Ray animated the spin with a much more positive system of control.”

Not only is the animation of aerial braced miniatures a difficult chore, it is often undesirable, especially with something like a rocket where the strobing problem can become almost unbearable. It happened in Laserblast despite the pendulum motion during animation. Unfortunately, it was in a principal shot of the ship zooming over the crest of a hill. After judging it as unsatisfactory, Dave decided to go for broke and do it live action on the roof of the Allen studio. “It’s just like a Lydecker shot and the only one in the film like that. We rigged it up on a boom arm and just swung it across the camera in an arc. It’s a little risky; if the model falls, you’re in trouble. We put some padding underneath it and didn’t break any wires, so it worked out rather lovely. I’m really delighted because what was almost the worst shot of the whole show is now one of the better shots in the sequence. The ship comes over the camera lens, goes off into the distance and banks. It’s almost the only believable shot of the ship flying, because all the other shots are done in single frame and it tends to look a bit stuttery.”

On the non-technical end, Laserblast is a mixed bag of relatively unknown newcomers and several seasoned actors, a trademark of recent Charles Band productions. With Kim Milford heading the fledgling cast as the discoverer of the abandoned alien laser gun, others include Cheryl Smith as his girlfriend, Ron Maydock as the local sheriff, and Dennis Burkley as the deputy sheriff. Brief appearances among the more established names include Roddy McDowall as a physician, and Keenan Wynn as a crazed old colonel. Michael Raye makes his directing debut, and the screenplay is by Raye and Frank Perelli. However novel in its approach to science fiction, the film admittedly has its weaknesses. “One problem,” admitted Allen, “is that the animation doesn’t really work well with the rest of the picture. The film seems to follow a non-structured, ambient, Cassavetes approach. Then you suddenly cut to these animated sequences which really are out of a different genre. It’s almost like cutting to puppet theatre.”

Paul Gentry is busy filming scenes of the ship in deep space and Randy Cook is doing most of the animating. A few technical mishaps caused problems along the way. When the animation set was bumped during filming, it necessitated shooting a closeup of an alien as a “save” shot, to be inserted where the jarred set would have been distracting. “Randy Cook is a very talented animator,” said Allen, “but he’s still learning. Certain mistakes were happening which had to be absorbed within the job. There simply is no time to do things over again. I’m only sorry I had to serve more as a director or producer than as actual animator. On the first set of effects I did about half of the stop-motion. I did very few of the new scenes a few fast closeups, a headshot here, a turn there things that I’ve been able to do during the evening hours. The longer, ten to twenty-foot scenes required somebody working here during the day and half the night, if necessary. That’s something I just can’t do myself because of my full-time position at CPC.”

Working under such circumstances, Allen often finds himself unfairly skewered by critics of his work. He’s making no secret of his minimal involvement with the animation in Laserblast, but he still expects to get blasted for any technical blemishes which might surface in the film. “It’s distressing in a way,” muses Allen. Laserblast will undoubtedly have them hurling epithets at me and calling me the Bert Gordon of the stop-motion world, or something on that order.”

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POST PRODUCTION: Joel Goldsmith and Richard Band Score Joel Goldsmith and Richard Band, the brother of film producer Charles Band, composed the music for Laserblast, marking the first film score for both composers. The score was written in five days, and makes heavy use of synthesizer, particularly synthesized brass instruments, as well as electronic music. The music was also used in the Charles Band-produced film Auditions, released the same year, the 1986 science fiction film Robot Holocaust and the 1983 horror film The House on Sorority Row. The company Echo Film Services handled the sound effects. The alien language chatter between the aliens in Laserblast was later used as sound effects in the metal band Static-X’s song “A Dios Alma Perdida”, which is featured in their 2001 album Machine. During several points in the film when something explodes after it is shot by the laser gun, the scene is edited so that multiple shots of the same explosion are shown in succession. This type of editing became a trademark of Charles Band’s films, and was done previously in his 1977 films Crash! and End of the World.

CAST/CREW Directed Michael Rae

Produced Charles Band

Written Frank Ray Perilli Franne Schacht

Kim Milford as Billy Duncan Cheryl Smith as Kathy Farley Gianni Russo as Tony Craig Roddy McDowall as Dr. Mellon Keenan Wynn as Colonel Farley Dennis Burkley as Deputy Pete Ungar Barry Cutler as Deputy Jesse Jeep Mike Bobenko as Chuck Boran Eddie Deezen as Froggy Ron Masak as Sheriff Rick Walters as Mike London Joanna Lipari as Franny Walton Wendy Wernli as Carolyn Spicer Steve Neill as Alien at beginning of movie

CREDITS/REFERENCES/SOURCES/BIBLIOGRAPHY Cinefantastique v06n04-v07n01 Starburst Magazine#03

Laserblast (1978) Retrospective SUMMARY The reptilian alien creatures in the film were works of stop motion animation by animator David W.

#70sFilms #BAND

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