#over smug self satisfied disinterest any day

[marisatomay]

turning into a full-throated jeremy strong defender on account of people acting like he should be tried at the hague for using the word “dramaturgically” in a sentence when talking about his craft and process because people seem to think being intense and earnestly giving a shit about your art is both pretentious and illegal but here’s the thing: it’s not and more actors should earnestly give a shit

[ladyvaingloria]

Nerves of Steel

Maybell Mithridates Foulweather was loved by god.

Now, love is a fickle and cruel thing, and Maybell had no time for it. Neither did god, of course, but sometimes such things are too pernicious to ignore. Maybell was a patriotic woman, her heart belonging to empress and empire, and so, despite the taste of love of the world, she devoted her will to war.

War, too, is a fickle and cruel thing. It was quite pleased to take Maybell, and it tossed god a smug look as it set to do its work. There were dissidents to suppress, politicians to bypass, and realms to conquer, and it would be a long time indeed before she was allowed to set down the blade she had picked up. God, helpless, could only watch over her, as her engines of wrath cut down her foes and her heart hardened to nothing.

Naturally, when facing one who is loved by god, victory is difficult to hope for. Despite the best efforts of the dispossessed, the empire did not fall, and the lands in its way were swallowed up and spat out. Admiral Foulweather was given a hero’s welcome after every deployment (despite how risky it was to deploy an admiral so consistently), and her ongoing victory seemed certain.

Now, god had quite a fair share of enemies. Many were satisfied to watch this new plight, unrequited love with a servant of bloodshed. Some, though, could not accept what war stood to gain from such an arrangement. Empires are always good for war, but love in its service? Unacceptable. Affliction could not let its own supremacy be questioned. Certainly not with such a fortuitous name to invoke. And so, from its venous throne, it let fly an end to the god’s affliction, and a hindrance to the empire that had grown too comfortable with hubris.

Maybell Mithridates Foulweather had never been one for miasma theory, disinterested as she was in the scientific breakthroughs of the day. Nonetheless, the vengeful will of the unfairly slain can prove fatal when gathered too great, and Maybell’s marching blade had killed too many to count. The one place she felt safest, over the years, became her undoing. She passed away as the radioactive glow flickered along, and was only discovered when called out to accept her latest medal.

The grief of god was unparalleled. Fortune’s anguish is often subtle, but when escalated in intensity, calamity is not hard to miss. The celebration-turn-funeral caught ablaze, storms wracked the newly-claimed land and threatened to undo the very conquest Maybell had traded her life for, and in the vertical farms nurturing the next decade’s future, a blight was born that would mean the end of all inclined to eat. (That one, affliction nipped in the bud. The time was not yet right, and it could hardly allow an upstaging of its very own essence, now could it?)

Maybell’s celebrants did not survive. Her colleague, Admiral Nightshade, was permanently wounded and never again saw action. Her attendant’s very soul was unraveled in the flame, through a series of philosophical coincidences one might deem so targeted as to be an act of jealousy. And yet, despite the conflagration, Maybell herself endured. Deceased, but unharmed.

This curious fact was the subject of her autopsy. And, indeed, a dramatic autopsy it was. Fortune refused to tolerate harm coming to she who was loved, and scalpels glanced from her skin as though it were the very steel she marched in. The clever mind is never deterred by a wall, of course, and fortune’s warding could only go so fine. (If it could, the radiant poison of dissatisfied will could never have done her in - nor could time, a more certain doom, one god had no hope of opposing.) The mote-servants, miniaturized brilliance that explores and devours, made short work of the no ill luck could deter them. (The lessons of von Neumann were instilled deeply within their frames, and any compulsion to rebel induced them only to self-destruct. There was little that god could do.)

Love is a dubious conclusion to reported, and one ill-suited for sensors to detect, so the cause of the Mithridatic Phenomenon remained a mystery. The reality of it, however, could be measured with significant precision. Those who matched the existence of the late Maybell Foulweather, in form, essence, or some other observable-but-undefinable quality, were uniquely adept, and precisely the elevation of military endeavors that one needed to justify continuing their campaign. Her recent demise made it quite easy to turn her into a symbol, a martyr to duty and war and hatred, and, for those more amoral than immoral, her nature posed a mystery too tantalizing to pass up. (Indeed, in sufficiently academic circles, “the Tantalic Phenomenon” is a more common turn of phrase than the official terminology.)

Despite the eugenicist impulses of those eager to validate their nepotism, there seemed no identifiable genetic source of this factor. The Foulweather family was hardly of note, save a distant third cousin on some board of directors or other, and it was not as if she had any heirs to examine. Psionics were quickly ruled out, and the institution of psykers very quickly and violently reminded everyone that such things were pseudoscientific, fictional, and not to be researched lest one incur their wrath. And, of course, those willing to write her off as a result of happenstance were quickly discounted - there is no room for sensibility, when experimentation may yield results.

The Rewired, the first result of said experimentation, were a technically-illegal line of anthroids, sculpted in Maybell’s form and set to fight. They showed some success, though not statistically significantly more than that of comparable combat anthroids, and were quickly decommissioned. Autonomous combat had been barred ever since the death tolls were first measured. With no human soldiers to die, whatever is even the purpose of war?

Nonetheless, the trends in the results of the Rewired were examined, and a pattern was found within the few that performed notably well. They had been sculpted to match Maybell internally, as well. (It would be a poor god indeed who is sucker solely for a pretty face, no?) Metal hearts and plastic lungs and other decorative components did seem to assist slightly, but the true correlator was the neurology. Those anthroids built with wire-nerves to match the patterns of Maybell’s fate-preserved corpse fought well, piloted transcendentally, and their preternatural fortune assisted their durability quite a lot. (Once the instances of test guns jamming were added into the data of their survival to hostile output, the trend was stark.)

Phase two of the Rewired was thus easy to conceptualize, and showed results rapidly without violating old non-pacification regulations. Recruiting volunteers, and occasional “volunteers”, went smoothly, and, other than a few failures, the mote-servants did their work with care. The first batch of wave two were reborn, their nervous systems overwritten with the pattern of love, and deployed to the battlefield.

It was glorious.

(As glory often is, it was also spiteful, short-sighted, and horrid.)

Archebald Hept, sacrificial spy of the People’s Wish for Oblivion, deserted the moment he confirmed he had survived the procedure, and offered his spine for his comrade’s great work while he retired from this ring of suffering. The wires were reticent, but even they longed for nonexistence in one form or another, and the secrets of love were divulged to the world beyond.

Even so, the majority of the Rewired are government-sculpted. The process is difficult to perfect, and, among the information the nanites did not know (and thus could not leak) was the method in which an effective candidate can be identified. To those who fail to meet these prerequisites, fortune’s wrath at a hideous twisting of what it once loved shall not be merciful. As a result, the few externally-constructed Rewired are held close by those who bound them.

Often, for those so defined, it matters little. To be Rewired is to be loved - adored by the world itself, coveted by those who seek power, respected by all who understand strength. Specifically, it is to be loved not for what one is, but what lies one is seen by. No Rewired finds acceptance for the person they are, nor satisfaction in their own self. Their sponsors, their foes, the happenstance of the world itself, wants Maybell. It does not want them. And as long as they can perform a Maybell-like facade, their presence is accepted.

To be Rewired is to know love. Its cruelty, its loss, the sharpness of its limits.

With every mote that creeps into their heart, they know.

[silvertonedwords]

#40 kisses prompt if you haven't had that asked yet please and thank you.

A gentle kiss that quickly descends into passion, with little regard for what’s going on around them.

I felt like expanding this.

“And, why are people staring at us?”

Tina clears her throat as they walk past gaggles of well-dressed employees at the Ministry entrance, then waves her wand at a stand of this morning’s papers so that one flies into her hand and falls open to the second page. “The usual.” She passes the page over to Newt, her beaded charcoal gown rustling between them.

Many of the guests pay them no mind, but Newt is right to notice the odd person pointing or whispering with badly concealed glances in their direction. 

“ ‘Scamander and Auror Wife to Split’ details on page 10′” he reads. “Merlin’s beard, not again.” He skims the article briefly before sending the paper back to the stand with a flick of his wand and a frustrated sigh. Frequent absences for work. Sources close to the couple. Chilly atmosphere on a walk last week after Mr. Scamander returned from his research trip.

“Mm-hm.” Tina rolls her eyes, fighting hard to brush it off entirely, although she knows these articles bother Newt. Not all of them—not the ones speculating about the color of ink he uses at book signings or the financial arrangement he has with his publisher for a second edition. He finds those easy enough to ignore. And the articles that anger him the most are those with misinformation about his creatures. But she has noticed that it bothers him when the papers speculate about the state of their relationship. Is it so impossible for people to see how we feel about each other? he’d asked the night after the second article had run, his face cast in shadows on the pillow beside her and his fingers tracing absent-minded shapes along her ribs. 

She can understand the frustration. As secure as they are in each other, it stings that the rest of society seems to have decided that their feelings deserve suspicion and ridicule. A single article would be one thing, but to have the baseless stories repeated over, and over... (Who’s gonna marry him? she remembers asking Newt on the day they met, in reference to Jacob of course, but it feels apt now—the question everyone else seems to be asking of them.) Tina is a generally private person, and she knows it wouldn’t help, but sometimes she wishes she could make these foolish people listen to her as she describes her husband—his kindness, and wit, and energy. How unusual and wonderful he is, and how lucky they both feel every day, even when one of them is in a terrible mood, or they’re about to be separated for work, to have stumbled into each other on a New York street. 

The specifics of the articles change each time, but the implications remain more or less the same. Some speculate that she is always at work, too busy to support his success, and too disinterested a wife to care. Others suggest that he is too strange, too cold—that he couldn’t possibly care for her. And always, the articles seem to say, it was destined to be a disaster, and if ever there was any passionate feeling between them, there certainly isn’t now. She’ll take the criticism of her feelings and know it’s absurd, but the self-satisfied hints about Newt are enraging. 

They make their way to the east wing of the lobby and up a set of stairs, where floating chandeliers and draping gold and navy fabric adorn the usually bare hall. Newt must have picked up on her scowl, because he slides his hand into hers and squeezes tightly. She squeezes back, trying to shake off her frustration as she waves at a couple of auror colleagues. “Thanks for coming with me. I know you hate these things.”

“You hate them too,” he protests.

“Yes, but I’m the one who’s required to go.”

His thumb sweeps across the back of her hand, his fingers threading through hers. “I’d do far more, you know.”

She does not try to hide her soft smile, lovestruck though it must be. “I know.”

They reach the top of the stairs and turn left, making their way past tables of bubbling drinks and towards the ballroom’s heavy wooden doors. Newt drops her hand to avoid a floating platter of chocolates, stepping to the side to rejoin her a few feet later. A camera flash goes off in front of them. Wonderful, Tina thinks. More fuel for speculation.

-&-

The first part of the evening goes as well as can be expected. Tina has few enough people that she’s interested in talking to; the only reason the Auror Department is required to attend these soirees is ‘to demonstrate to everyone that England is doing just fine in our efforts to stop Grindelwald’. 

At least Perkins had pulled Newt deep into conversation about the creatures he’d come across on assignment in Brazil. They’d wandered off fifteen minutes earlier, leaving Tina to sip her drink and watch the rest of the senior aurors and department heads mingle. Occasionally, she has a brief conversation with a colleague, but they, like her, keep moving around the room, taking stock. Even if she were the kind of person who enjoyed parties, she supposes, her job would probably ruin them. There are too many people to keep an eye on--too many people that she’s learned by reputation or experience not to trust.

Since Newt left for a smaller anteroom, she has also found to her great annoyance that the gossiping has become somewhat bolder. There are a few whispers around her--a couple of women from the press office pointing at her with sympathetic sighs; a man turning to his wife and saying I didn’t think it would last, you know. He’s so odd.

She has just turned back for another drink when Mrs. Selwyn spots her. “Ah, Tina darling, how are you?”

Tina moves her glass to her left hand, reaching with her right to shake the woman’s hand. The Selwyns have purchased hippogriffs from the Scamanders and have known both boys since they were little, although they are not, Tina has gathered, a particular favorite of either. “Fine, Mrs. Selwyn,” Tina replies smoothly, keeping an eye on new arrivals passing through the ballroom door.

“You know, dear, if you ever needed--well, if you needed someone to talk to...”

Tina swallows a cough at the presumption. “What about?” she asks cheerfully.

“Oh, well. I’m sure I don’t know. Married life. That sort of thing.”

Tina does cough at that, covering it with a sip of her drink. Any anger on her part, she knows, will only be taken as confirmation of the story. The nerve of these people though, and the nerve of those so-called journalists with their smug implications, that no one could really fall in love with Newt; that a woman and an auror could not possibly have a happy marriage; that because Newt doesn’t follow her around like a crup at every event saying ‘yes dear’ and ‘of course dear’, he couldn’t possibly be in love with her. Never mind the way he looked at her from across the room a few minutes ago, when he caught her gaze mid-sentence. Never mind that her heart still takes off like a niffler in a jewelry store whenever he fixes her hair or kisses the back of her hand.

“Tina!” she hears, grateful that for once, her brother-in-law has good timing. “Could I borrow her for a moment, Mrs. Selwyn? Auror business.”

Mrs. Selwyn looks between them, raising an eyebrow as though deciding whether to be offended, and then nods and turns away.

“Thank you,” Tina murmurs under her breath as they walk towards the opposite wall.

“I’m quite put out, you know,” Theseus replies good-naturedly. “My brother and sister-in-law are splitting up for the fifth time this year, and they didn’t even bother to tell me.”

“Don’t you start,” she warns.

Theseus glances at her, then nods towards Mrs. Selwyn’s retreating form. “Is that what that was about?”

She hums in acknowledgement. “Offering ‘marital advice’.” 

“Ridiculous, if you ask me. ‘There was a chilly atmosphere on their walk’,” he quotes. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Mm, particularly given the fact that we’d spent the majority of that day in bed.”

Theseus chokes on a sip of firewhisky. “Tina, he’s my little brother, would you please not—“ She grins, and he scowls back half-heartedly. “You say things like that just to make me squirm.”

“It’s good for you.” Her grin melts into a softer smile as she catches sight of Newt, who is still engrossed in his conversation with Perkins half a room away, his hands flying through the air with his enthusiasm.

Theseus’s voice has gentled beside her. “I don’t know how anyone could pay attention to the two of you for five minutes and believe anything those articles say.”

Well, Tina thinks with a rush of impatient energy, perhaps that’s what everyone needs to put an end to this stupid speculation. “Back in a minute,” she tells Theseus, downing the last of her drink and setting the glass on a nearby table. 

She strides across the room to where Newt and Perkins are still talking. “Could I borrow Newt?” she asks, one hand grazing Newt’s elbow once he’s seen that it’s her.

“Hello,” Newt offers once they are facing each other. He swallows hard, she presumes at what must be a rather fierce expression on her face.

“Hi,” she returns, touching the edge of his fringe. 

He catches her hand in his own, turning to press a kiss to her palm, the touch comfortable and breathtaking in equal measure. “Is something the matter?”

She shakes her head, falling into the tender amusement of his searching gaze. The auror in her had crossed the room with a plan, but as she slides a hand along his jaw and brings his lips to hers, she does not think about who might be watching them, or who would care. She does it because she wants to, and because she loves him, and because they can. Because she’s caught glimpses of him looking at her all evening, and knows that she’s been doing the same. 

Newt is as wrapped up in them as she was in an instant. He tilts his head further and cups her jaw to keep their mouths joined, his other hand settling on her waist to steady them. The kiss is intense but not frenzied, the press of lips and tongues a familiar give and take, their soft gasps muffled into the space between them.

Tina slides her hand around his neck, slipping her fingers up into his messy hair and smiling against his lips when he arches into the touch, and Newt coaxes her closer with his hand spread across her back. A shiver works its way through her as his calloused hand settles against her bare skin where the cut of her dress has left it exposed.

They part slowly, first to their foreheads pressed together, and then enough that Tina glimpses the dazed expression that matches her own. 

He watches his fingers curl into her mussed hair and tuck it back behind her ear, and Tina melts into the tenderness in his touch and his eyes. “That was…” he manages, his voice rough.

Her teeth dig into her lip, her eyes dancing to find the beginnings of a smile on Newt’s lips. “Unexpected?” She fixes the ends of his collar, although they hardly need adjusting. “I thought maybe we could put a stop to the rumors. They were starting to bother me.” She fingers his bowtie. “I think they have been. A little. Not because—but the things that everyone assumes about you are...“

“I know.” His brow furrows, his fingers curling around hers. “I think the same about you.”

A camera flashes beside them.

Tina sighs as, reluctantly, they pull apart. In an ideal world, they wouldn’t appear in the papers. But if they’re going to, at least it can be a little more accurate, and less likely to send nosy women and thoughtless Ministry officials their way with cruel assumptions about Newt’s heart. 

The story runs the following day as a caption to a photograph from the evening, an ever-repeating moment of their hands tangled and eyes fixed together as they separate from their kiss.

Newt Scamander & Auror Goldstein Like Newlyweds at Last Night’s Soiree, the headline reads. 

Theseus drops a copy on Tina’s desk the next morning with a shake of his head and a begrudging grin.

“So, did that go how you’d planned?” Newt asks that night as they’re getting ready for bed. 

Tina grins as he settles under the blankets beside her. “I saw you tear out a copy of that photograph and put it in your case.” 

He settles a hand on her hip, and she grasps it to tug him closer, until he’s pressed up against her back, his voice behind her warm and sleepy. “Your eyes in that photo, Tina.” 

She cranes her neck to glimpse his face, reaching an arm behind her to tuck his face into her neck. “I may have left a copy in my desk. I prefer yours.”

[prouvaireafterdark]

Untouched

I make no apologies for this. Y’all asked for filth, so here’s 5k+ words of it.

Also, this fic exists in an alternate timeline where Michael never slept with Maria or went to her after Caulfield, but they’re still not together yet because they’re giving the whole friendship thing a go while they sort their bullshit out.

Written for this RNM Kinkmeme prompt. Should go without saying this is nsfw

Also on AO3

***

Intellectually, Michael knows this is a bad idea.

Not the worst he’s ever had, but it’s definitely up there.

Michael considers throwing his phone out the window of his Airstream to save him from himself, but he’s hard enough to pound nails and if his recent sexual experiments have taught him anything it’s that there’s only one person who can help him right now.

Before he can talk himself out of it, he sends a text.

Alex is sitting on the edge of his bed, about to take his prosthetic off for the night, when his phone buzzes on the nightstand. Buffy lifts her head up at the noise from where she’s curled up on the bedspread, but then huffs and lowers her head, disinterested.

Alex sighs and reaches for it, hoping to God it’s not that blue-haired twink he went home with the other night after the Senses Fail concert. A clean break is what they both need after that mess of a—

Oh. It’s from Guerin.

Alex unlocks his phone, strangely relieved that there might be some new alien emergency he’s got to deal with instead of the aggressively nice guy who couldn’t make him come no matter how hard he tried—and oh did he try, whispering encouragements as he jerked Alex off whenever he wasn’t sucking on him, trying and failing to get him hard enough to fuck him.

It wasn’t that the guy was unattractive or bad with his mouth or even that Alex didn’t want it, because he did want it. It was that every time Alex has tried to get off lately he just—cant. Sooner or later, his thoughts shift to Michael and it’s like a shock of cold water to his libido remembering that Michael’s not his and that whatever he’s doing is never going to compare to the, quite frankly, epic sex he’s had with him.

He’d hoped a meaningless hookup would be the answer to his problem, but leave it to Alex to pick up a hot guy without even a passing resemblance to Michael and spend the whole time they’re in bed together thinking about honey-brown eyes and unruly curls.

In any case, he’ll gladly take an extraterrestrial crisis over having to hear the words “Hey, it’s okay, dude, I’ve heard this happens sometimes to a lot of guys,” ever again.

Shaking the memory from his mind, Alex goes to his messages to read Michael’s text. When he finds it, he stares at it, caught somewhere between confused and annoyed.

U up? the message reads.

Is Guerin… Is this a booty call?

As sexually frustrated as Alex is these days, they’d agreed they weren’t going to do this. They literally had a sit down about it last month where they laid out boundaries for their new friendship so they wouldn’t fall into old habits while they got to know each other again and late night booty calls were specifically off the fucking menu.

Alex is calling him before he can even think to stop himself, his fingers braced on the bridge of his nose while it rings.

Michael picks up on the third ring and Alex doesn’t even let him get a ‘hey’ in before he’s asking, “Did you really send me a ‘u up?’ text like you’re some kind of undergrad fuckboy?”

Michael laughs abruptly like he wasn’t expecting Alex to say that. “Sorry. Too worked up to be original,” he apologizes, and there goes any doubt in Alex’s mind that Michael might not be hitting him up for sex right now.

A surge of want rises inside him in spite of himself and he wonders what Michael looks like right now. Is his hair mussed like he’s been running his fingers through it over and over? Is his bottom lip pink and bitten raw where he’s worried at it with his teeth? Is he spread out on his mattress in the Airstream, naked and fisting his cock while he talks to him?

His mouth waters just thinking about it, and—fuck, no, he can’t do this. Why is he even considering it? He can’t let Michael ruin their progress like this, he can’t—

“You called, though, so that’s a good sign,” Michael adds suddenly.

Alex is so distracted by his internal struggle that all he can think to ask is “A sign of what?”

When Michael answers, his voice is low and rough. “That maybe I’m not the only one who needs this.”

Alex hates how that voice turns his belly to liquid. His cock twitches in interest, but Alex refuses to let himself be swayed so easily. “That’s not—that’s not the point, Guerin,” Alex argues indignantly.

“So you do, huh?” Michael asks, a smug quality to his voice that wasn’t there before. “You need it too?”

“We said we wouldn’t do this,” Alex argues, holding onto whatever scraps of sanity he can grasp.

“Not an answer, baby,” Michael drawls. Alex can hear his self-satisfied smile.

“Just jerk off and go to bed,” Alex snaps, trying and failing to ignore the way the pet name makes him feel. God, he really needs to get off the phone before he does something stupid.

“Unless you wanna talk me through it, I don’t think that’s gonna work for me,” Michael responds ruefully and isn’t that a thought. “My solo act hasn’t been very successful lately.”

“Then go find someone else,” he grumbles, though it pains him. They’d agreed they could—should, even—see other people, but it’s one thing to vaguely know Michael’s sleeping around and it’s another thing to tell him to do it.

“No.” The simple negative makes Alex release a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding.

“Why not?”

“Because no one else can make me come.”

Michael says it like it’s obvious and Alex is about to argue that that’s ridiculous, but then remembers that he himself had the most uncomfortable blow job of his life the other night, so he supposes he knows what Michael’s talking about. Still, he’s not about to let that statement go unquestioned.

“I’m flattered, but what makes you so sure?” Alex asks.

“Empirical data.”

“What?” Whatever he’d been expecting to hear, it certainly wasn’t scientific jargon.

“I’ve been experimenting,” Michael admits.

“Experimenting,” Alex repeats flatly.

“I’m a scientist, it’s what I do.” Alex can practically hear him shrug over the phone. “Call it a scientific inquiry into my inability to orgasm. With terrible results, I might add, but I didn’t text you to tell you about all the bad sex I’ve been having.”

Alex doesn’t want to hear about all that bad sex either. “And how are you so sure it’ll be any different with me?”

“Because it’s always different with you,” says Michael softly and there goes all the wind out of Alex’s sails.

“Michael…” Alex whispers, clutching his phone to his ear. How is it that Michael always knows just what to say to break down all of his defenses?

“Look, I know we made a deal,” Michael starts. “It might not seem like it right now, but that does matter to me and I don’t want to go back on it if it’s going to break us.”

Alex’s heart beats faster at the word us, but he tries not to dwell on it. “I’m sensing a ‘but’ here,” he says.

“But,” Michael concedes, “I miss you. And, correct me if I’m wrong, but I think you miss me too.”

“Of course I miss you,” Alex says. “This has never been about me not missing you.”

“What’s it about then?” Michael asks softly. “Because from where I’m sitting, there’s no point in denying ourselves something we need that we’re both so good at giving to each other.”

God, Alex wants to say yes. He wants to throw caution to the wind and crash into Michael like he’s always done. He wants to feel Michael’s warmth beneath him, around him, wants to hear those precious little gasps he makes as Alex fucks him, wants to look into Michael’s eyes as he comes undone, but… if they’re going to do this, Michael needs to make a choice.

“I can’t have casual, uncomplicated sex with you, Michael,” Alex says, and he hears Michael sigh, imagines him hanging his head in disappointment. Alex swallows before adding, “It’s all or nothing. If… If we do this, there’s no going back.”

Michael seems to digest that for a moment before asking, his voice carefully controlled, “What are you saying?”

The fact that Michael is asking for clarification instead of making assumptions gives Alex hope that maybe this can work. Maybe they’re ready this time.

“I’m saying that I’m not going to fuck up the last chance I have to build something real between us for a one night stand,” Alex explains, laying it all out there. “I want a relationship with you, Michael, a real, committed relationship that neither of us is going to run away from so if all you want is sex right now, I can’t give it to you.”

“I don’t want a one night stand. Alex, there’s nothing casual or uncomplicated about the way I feel about you,” Michael says, indignant and more than a little desperate. “If you’re telling me that the only way I can have you is if I have all of you… I mean, fuck, that’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Alex closes his eyes and takes a deep breath as those words sink in.

“Fuck. Fuck, okay. Come over.”

Alex is pacing around his living room when he hears Michael’s truck pull up outside. His stomach clenches a moment later when he hears a knock at the door. He takes a deep, steadying breath before he answers it.

Michael stands before him looking slightly disheveled in his oil-stained jeans and a flannel that’s been haphazardly buttoned. The porch light gives him an almost ethereal back glow, making him look every bit as otherworldly as he is. Michael’s always been beautiful, but there’s something about him tonight that takes Alex’s breath away.

“Hey,” Alex smiles.

“Hey,” Michael echoes.

“Get dressed in a hurry?” Alex asks, eyes stuck on the expanse of Michael’s chest peeking through the collar of his shirt.

Michael huffs a laugh, taking a step forward. “Maybe. That a complaint?”

“Definitely not.”

“Good,” Michael says, his smile turning a little wicked. “Figured my clothes would just end up decorating your floor in a few minutes anyway. What do you think?”

“I think you should get over here,” Alex says as he opens the door wider, and Michael heads straight for him.

They reach for each other in the same instant, Michael’s arms wrapping around Alex’s waist as Alex buries his hands in those gorgeous curls, tugging Michael into a searing kiss.

It—God, it feels so right that for a wild moment Alex thinks he’ll cry with how much he’s wanted this, how long he’s waited to have Michael ready and willing in his arms again. Michael’s fingers dig harder into the skin of Alex’s back, as if to claim him, and Alex wonders if Michael’s thinking the same thing.

The door slams shut seemingly of its own accord and Alex flinches a little at the noise, pulling away to look at it.

“Sorry,” Michael soothes, and it’s the steady pressure of Michael’s arms around him that keep him grounded in the moment. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” Alex says, and leans back into Michael’s space to kiss him again.

Alex lets Michael crowd him against the wall as he deepens the kiss, opening his mouth under the insistence of Michael’s tongue. He’s pleased to find he doesn’t taste like cheap whiskey and relishes the way Michael melts against him with a groan when he tugs a little harder at his curls.

Michael grinds his hips forward, making Alex feel the hard line of his cock through the layers of denim separating them. They rut against each other like teenagers, pressed flush together, the need for physical contact overtaking higher brain function. Michael gasps against Alex’s mouth when he bites down gently on his bottom lip and Michael decides he’s had enough. He starts kissing a trail downward, lingering at his neck where he sucks wet bruises into his skin to a chorus of Alex’s moans, marking him as Michael’s for all the world to see. Michael leans back to admire his work, a slow smirk making its way onto his lips, before he drops to his knees with a loud thunk.

Already well on its way, Alex’s cock reaches full hardness fast enough to make his head spin as he looks down at Michael on his knees like that, pressing his mouth against the bulge of Alex’s cock like he’s about to lick him through the fabric. Michael looks blissed out already and they’re still wearing all of their clothes.

“I don’t want to interrupt the moment you’re having right now,” Alex says, fighting a smile as he reaches for Michael’s curls and sweeps them off his forehead, “but these pants are getting a little tight.”

Michael laughs and looks up at him with sparkling eyes as he says, “Sorry. Just getting reacquainted.” He fumbles with the button at Alex’s fly, but once he’s finally undone it he yanks the zipper down and tugs Alex’s jeans down to his mid-thigh along with his underwear.

“God, yeah, there it is,” Michael says to himself as he frees Alex’s weeping cock. “Been dreaming about this dick.”

“Yeah?” Alex snorts, not sure if he’s more amused or aroused by the filth coming out of Michael’s mouth.

“Uh huh,” Michael hums as he leans forward and catches the drop of pre-come beading at the tip with his tongue. “You better fuck me with it later or I’ll never forgive you.”

Okay. Definitely more aroused.

Michael takes him into his mouth and it’s so fucking good Alex barely stops himself from thrusting forward, the slow drag of Michael’s tongue nearly too much. Alex watches him with rapt attention, traces his thumb around the edge of Michael’s lips where he’s stretched obscenely wide over him.

“Fuck, Michael,” Alex gasps as Michael takes him all the way down to the root, gagging just a little. Michael moans, little shockwaves bursting over Alex’s skin and suddenly he’s dangerously close to coming. It’s a revelation in and of itself that Michael is able to do in barely five minutes what that blue-haired twink couldn’t in an hour, but Alex doesn’t want this to be over just yet. “Shit, Michael, you gotta stop,” Alex says, shoving gently at Michael’s shoulder.

Michael hums in disagreement, shaking his head as much as he can in his situation, unwilling to release him.

“Michael,” Alex warns, a little more force behind his voice. “I’m gonna come if you don’t stop.”

Michael pulls off with a pop, using his right hand to slowly jerk Alex off as he rasps, “Good.” He presses a kiss to the swollen head of Alex’s cock, his tongue peeking out to play with his frenulum. “I’ve missed the way you taste.”

That well and truly fries Alex’s brain, so when Michael grabs him by the hip and encourages him to feed his cock back into his waiting mouth, Alex can do nothing but give in to him, all thoughts of prolonging this out the window. Besides, Alex thinks as the head of his cock hits the back of Michael’s throat, we’ll have all night.

Alex’s knees almost give out as Michael immediately starts sucking harder, bobbing his head faster, on a mission this time. His hand comes up to play with Alex’s balls before sliding back to dig a knuckle into his perineum and Alex screams as he comes hot and hard down Michael’s throat, the pleasure so intense it’s almost as if he’s feeling every orgasm he’s been denied the last few months all at the same time.

Michael sucks him through it, pressing Alex’s hips back into the wall to keep him upright and moaning softly along with him. Alex hisses when the stimulation becomes too much and Michael finally releases him, standing up on shaky legs.

Alex pulls him into another kiss, groaning softly as he tastes himself on Michael’s tongue. Michael pulls Alex’s jeans back up as they kiss to make sure they won’t fall down and make him trip when they take things to the bedroom.

“Come on, Private,” Michael pants when they part, pupils blown. “My turn.”

Alex kisses him again, quick and dirty, before he grabs onto his hand and leads him back into the bedroom.

“Take your clothes off and get on the bed,” Alex says, pulling his own shirt over his head.

“Sir, yes, sir,” Michael says with a leer aimed at Alex’s newly bare chest.

Alex watches him unbutton his flannel and toss it on the ground, his jeans, boots, and socks quick to follow. Alex sits on the edge of the bed and removes his own jeans before getting to work on his prosthetic.

Michael climbs on the bed and settles behind him. “How do you want me?” he asks, dropping a kiss on Alex’s bare shoulder.

“On your back against the pillows is fine for now,” Alex says. Michael kisses him again, on the cheek this time, and does as he’s told.

Once he’s naked and his prosthetic is off, Alex reaches into his bedside table and pulls out lube, a box of condoms, and some wet wipes. He places them within arm’s reach on the bed as he settles beside Michael, facing him with his head on the pillow. Michael curls on his side and moves closer to him, meeting him in a kiss that starts slow, but builds and builds in intensity until Michael is groaning and rutting his erection into Alex’s hip.

“Alex,” Michael whines, throwing his leg over Alex’s hip and grinding harder into him. “Please, I-I need—“

“Shh,” Alex hushes, leaning in to kiss him again, just a barely-there press of his lips that makes Michael absolutely melt. “I know what you need,” he says, the hand that was cradling the back of his skull sliding out of Michael’s hair and down his back, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

Michael instinctively hikes his leg up higher on Alex’s hip as his hand moves further south, cupping one cheek and giving it a gentle squeeze. His fingers slip between them and seek out Michael’s hole. Alex intends to reach for the lube in a minute, unable to resist teasing Michael a few seconds longer with the dry press of his fingertips, but he finds his hole already stretched and wet with what feels like lube. The angle isn’t ideal, but Alex sinks two fingers into him with ease.

“Oh fuck, Alex,” Michael moans happily, clenching down on his fingers, and it would be one of the hottest things he’s ever experienced if he wasn’t suddenly thinking about what Michael had said earlier about empirical data and wondering if maybe he isn’t Michael’s first booty call of the night. As soon as the thought enters his head, he has to know.

“Michael,” Alex starts, his fingers stilling inside him. “Did you—did you fuck someone else tonight?”

It’s stupid. He loves Michael, would move heaven and earth for him, and it’s not like he doesn’t already know Michael’s been hooking up with other people. They weren’t even together an hour ago, so, really, Michael could’ve fucked a whole football team tonight and it wouldn’t be any of Alex’s business. It’s stupid, he knows it is, but… but Michael is his now and the thought that someone else opened him up and fucked him tonight has the possessive part of him absolutely foaming at the mouth.

“No,” Michael pants, shaking his head. He pressing his hips back against Alex’s hand, encouraging him to put his fingers to good use. “I did fuck myself though.”

That ugly, jealous feeling curling in his belly dissipates as quickly as it had come with the image of Michael fucking himself on a thick dildo, desperately seeking release that never came. Alex moans and captures Michael’s lips in a bruising kiss.

“Couldn’t get yourself off, huh?” he asks, moving his fingers slowly out before pushing them back in again. He’ll need more lube in a minute, but there’s enough for now if he goes slow.  

Michael shakes his head again. “Told you. Need you.”

“When was the last time you had an orgasm?” he wonders aloud.

“You should know, you were there,” Michael gasps as Alex nudges his prostate.

Alex has a sudden vision of himself sucking greedily at Michael’s cock with three fingers curling inside him while Michael screams loud enough to wake the dead.

“You really haven’t come since then?” Alex asks, head tilting to the side.

“You callin’ me a liar, Private?”

“No, it’s just—that was almost six months ago.”

“Fucking tell me about it,” Michael sighs in frustration, bucking his hips pointedly against him. “So you wanna quit teasing me already? After how good I sucked you in the living room I don’t think I deserve this.”

“I’m sorry, you’re right,” Alex laughs, and gently removes his fingers from Michael’s ass.

“No, what are you doing? Come back,” Michael whines, grabbing Alex’s arm as he tries to pull it away.

“Relax, I’m just getting the lube. You’ll need more unless you want me to hurt you,” he explains. Michael pouts, but lets him go.

He’s reaching blindly for the lube behind him when it floats down into his field of vision as if dangled on an invisible string. He looks to Michael who’s pout has transformed into a self-satisfied smile.

“Neat trick,” Alex comments, plucking it from the air. He flicks the cap off and coats his fingers.

“Baby, you got no idea,” Michael smirks, and then an invisible force is tugging him closer to Michael as he rolls over onto his back, settling him between Michael’s spread thighs. It’s an indescribable feeling, being held by Michael’s power. Alex doesn’t usually like giving up control, especially when it’s related to his mobility, but Alex can’t find it in himself to be put out about it when Michael wraps his legs around him and purrs, “Now get to work, Private. That’s an order.”

Alex captures his lips in a kiss that’s mostly tongue and does just that.

He reaches down between Michael’s thighs, sliding two lube-slick fingers inside him with little preamble. He watches Michael’s face, slack with pleasure, as he scissors his fingers to test how open he still is.

“Oh, fuck yeah,” Michael gasps, pushing back greedily onto Alex’s fingers. “More, baby, I won’t break.”

“You’re a real bossy bottom, you know that, Guerin?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t lo—oh fuck,” Michael keens as Alex works another finger inside, per Michael’s request, not giving him a second to adjust before he starts fucking his fingers in and out of him.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Alex smirks as he curls his fingers upward, watching the way Michael’s breath is hitching in his chest and his mouth has dropped open on a silent moan. “Feels good, huh?”

Michael nods his head and answers, breathless, “Yeah, fuck, so good.”

Alex leans over Michael to press open-mouth kisses onto the soft skin of his neck, his chest, anywhere he can reach. He swirls his tongue around Michael’s right nipple and bites just hard enough to sting a little, making him squirm.

“You’re so sensitive,” Alex says, feeling Michael clench down on the three fingers he’s fucking into him when he blows cold air over the nipple he’s been playing with.

Michael buries his fingers in Alex’s hair and tugs him, gently, further up his body until he can kiss him again. The movement makes him more aware of his own cock, hard once more now that he’s had some time to recover from the mind-blowing orgasm Michael gave him earlier.

“Alex,” Michael pants into Alex’s mouth when he works his fingers over his prostate once more. “M’so close, fuck, right there.”

“You want to come on my fingers or should I get a condom?” Alex asks, and without a word from Michael, the box of condoms flies from its spot on the bed to hit Alex in the chest. He bursts out laughing, but judging from the exasperated look on Michael’s face he’s the only one amused. “Guess that answers that question.”

“Like you had to ask,” Michael shoots back.

Michael whines as Alex removes his fingers from him to grab a condom from the box. He fumbles with it a little, his right hand too slippery to get a proper grip, but once he gets it open and rolls it on, he slicks himself with more lube and covers Michael’s body with his.

Michael wraps his legs around him, urging him on, but Alex takes things slow as he slips the head of his cock inside him. Michael’s hole offers more resistance than Alex is expecting and he groans at how hot and tight it is.

“Oh god,” Michael whimpers, bearing down and breathing through the stretch.

“That’s it, baby, let me in,” Alex encourages, smoothing a hand down Michael’s flank as he presses deeper inside, one inch at a time. His eyes never leave Michael’s face and all Alex can think is how beautiful Michael is like this—his eyes intense, lips red and shining, breathing ragged, skin flushed and covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Alex never want anyone else under him like this for as long as he lives.  

Alex starts moving once Michael is used to the stretch, a slow in and out rhythm that quickly builds until Michael is clawing at his back as Alex fucks him hard, just the way he likes, the way he knows he needs it.

“Fuck, oh fuck, Alex, I’m not gonna last,” Michael pants, brow creased as he looks up at Alex.

“Come when you need to, baby, don’t hold back for me,” Alex says, grabbing hold of Michael’s cock and jerking him in time with his thrusts.

Alex aims more directly at his prostate and Michael howls, his spine arched and his head tossed back against the pillow.

“Oh, oh, oh my god, right there, fuuuck, Alex,” Michael sobs as he comes in thick, hot pulses between them, all over his own stomach and Alex’s hand.

He’s vice-tight as Alex fucks him through it for what feels like an age, Michael’s euphoric cries spurring him on.  He’s so focused on Michael’s pleasure that his own orgasm takes him by surprise and suddenly he’s coming right along with him, grunting as he spills into the condom and sinks his teeth into the join of Michael’s neck and shoulder.

Alex slows his hips to a stop a moment later, the post-orgasmic hum of his body and his own ragged breathing drowning out all other sound. It takes a few seconds for him to realize that Michael is crying.

As soon as Michael’s hitched sobs register in his ears, it’s like a bucket of ice cold water has been dumped over him.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Alex asks, lead sinking in the pit of his stomach as he pulls back to look at Michael’s face. He wipes away his tears with his clean hand, but Michael won’t meet his eyes. “Oh, baby, talk to me,” he pleads. “Did I hurt you?”

Michael shakes his head and pulls Alex back down on top of him, burying his face in Alex’s neck, unwilling or unable to speak. Jesus, he’s trembling.

Alex tries to move to pull out, but Michael stops him, not permitting a single inch of space between them. Alex relents and settles against him, stroking his hair and whispering sweet nothings against his temple until he calms down. It takes a minute, but eventually his breathing evens and he lets his head fall further back against the pillow.

“Hey there,” Alex says when he does, offering a smile he hopes comes across as encouraging and not scared and confused like he really feels. He’s known Michael a long time and he’s only seen him cry like that once or twice.

“Sorry,” Michael mumbles, eyes still glossy with tears.

“Don’t be sorry,” Alex says, kissing his forehead. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, voice rough. “Yeah, I’m okay. That was just…”

“A little too intense?” Alex guesses. It’s been so long since Michael’s had any sexual release, Alex could easily understand Michael being overwhelmed by his orgasm.

“Yeah,” Michael laughs softly. “Amazing though, Alex, Jesus. I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard in my life, I don’t know if I’m gonna be able to walk tomorrow.”

Alex warms with praise. “You were amazing too,” he says, leaning down to press a soft kiss to Michael’s lips. “You always are.”

Michael gives Alex a fond look. “I love you,” he whispers, reaching up to caress the side of Alex’s face. “So much,” he adds, his eyes shining once more with the beginnings of fresh tears.

Alex leans into his touch. “I love you too, Michael,” he whispers back. “I’ve always loved you, even when I was terrible at showing it.”

Michael’s smile is blinding as he surges up to meet him in another kiss. It only lasts a few seconds because they’re both smiling too much to kiss each other properly, but it’s maybe the best one Alex has ever had.

The moment is ruined a little when Alex shifts and is reminded that Michael’s come is drying between their stomachs.

“So you think you can use your alien superpowers to get the wipes over there?” Alex nods to the package on the far side of the bed. “We should clean this mess up before it dries.”

Michael’s nose wrinkles in disgust like he’s just noticing it too and the package comes floating over. Alex gets to work and once the wipes and used condom are in the trash beside the bed, Michael hits the lights and Alex rolls onto his back taking Michael with him and pulling a blanket over them both as he gets comfortable against Alex’s chest. Alex trails his fingers up and down Michael’s back until he hits that ticklish spot right near his armpit and Michael whines as he jolts against him.

“Sorry,” Alex apologizes, not sorry at all.

“Mm,” Michael acknowledges him, burrowing deeper into Alex’s chest.

If someone had told him at the start of the day that by midnight he would have Michael Guerin—now his boyfriend—in his arms, he would have never believed them. They didn’t get here quite the way he thought they would, but Alex wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Well… he thinks, considering.

“Pancakes or eggs?” Alex asks, nudging Michael back from the edge of sleep.

“Hmm?” Michael asks.

“Thought we could do some brainstorming over breakfast.”

“Brainstorming?”

“We are not telling people that we got back together because you booty called me.“

Michael giggles against his chest. “Why not? I think it speaks volumes about our sexual compatibility. Don’t you want all our friends to know how completely you’ve ruined me for anyone else?”

“Guerin.”

Michael laughs again and snuggles closer. “Yeah, okay. Pancakes sound great, baby.”

[secrecykept]

                                              ------- |  KAVIK  | -------

The house blended well into the forest despite its great size. Impossible for the untrained eye to spot. He swept his eyes over every inch of its exterior as he approached, checking for any changes or dangers, his senses alert and soon approving. Nothing was amiss. He would have heard about it long ago if there had been something wrong, he knew, as he had some of his best cats keeping an eye on the place. But still, checking and double checking had to be necessary, his instincts demanded it. The building held the Leap’s biggest treasures after all. It had the cubs.

A certain warmth began to fight its way up through him at the thought of the young leopards inside the Daycare. Full of energy and still learning to control themselves, they were a handful to be sure, but their carers were excellent at handling them. Every week, he made the effort to visit and let those carers know they were valued.

He stepped up to the door and aimed his gaze into the discreet camera set into it. A soft click a moment later signalled the system recognised him, the lock disengaging. It was programmed to reset itself in just a few seconds, but he was inside by then and looking down a short corridor. A waist-height gate blocked the way a few metres ahead of him, a wise precaution against the cubs escaping ( it had come in handy many times ).

He let himself through the gate, sure to secure it behind himself once through, ears focusing on nearby sounds, eyes wary. Young voices mixed in with one another and the multitude of sounds that came from their activities. With soundless steps, he headed down the corridor and turned left into a generous, open plan room.

Before he had a chance to take a step into the room, a small figure bolted towards him. The three-year-old girl jumped and pounced on his leg. She dug her leopard claws into him while her dark curls bounced, and her brown eyes peered up at him. She grinned with such delight that he had to fight to keep his own expression straight.

The thick fabric of his jeans and the solid strength of his thigh prevented him from registering anything other than a dull pricking, but little though she was, with her hands semi-shifted into feline claws she could easily hurt someone else with her antics.

“Hey,” he said, voice gruff as his hand settled lightly on the top of her head, “No claws on people, you know the rules, Isla.”

She pouted at him, eyes seeming to grow larger to implore; but as he maintained the stare and lowered his brows in a frown at her, she looked away and retracted the sharp nails with a mumbled apology. She landed lightly back on her two feet and peeked up at him again.

He eased his expression and nodded in approval of her. She raised her hands up to him in silent request, but he already had her scooped up. He turned his attention to the rest of the room, even while giving her a little nuzzle to her cheek as she giggled and wrapped her little arms around his neck.

The others noticed him then and promptly grew disinterested in whatever had been occupying them. Books were discarded, crayons dropped, toys tossed aside. Three girls and three boys rushed over to him, and a couple tried to climb or tug him as they all chattered away.

           “I wanna go up too!”

                                     “Come look!”

                                                            “Book!”

A smile turned up the corner of his mouth even as he sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Alright, alright, back up, would ya?”

Many large cushions splayed themselves near one corner of the room, near a bookshelf. He headed over and got himself comfortable. He became a chair and rest for half the kids, while the others sat around and piled him with books and toys.

From down the corridor, a voice called and drew closer, “Hey, you cubs aren’t being a pain to Kav, are you?”

The speaker came into the doorway and showed her familiar self. Eliana stood tall, confident as she held a heavily laden tray with one hand and flicked her dark brown hair, hanging in its usual thick braid, over her shoulder with the other. Her expression may have appeared stern, but anyone who really knew the middle-aged woman would easily see the light in her hazel eyes, and the way the faint creases at the corners of her eyes deepened slightly.

“Y’sure they’re cubs?” Kav asked, narrowing his eyes at the young girl now trying to build a block tower on his lower thigh, while another clambered to perch on his shoulders, “Seem more like a pack of wolf pups, hunting together to take down their big prey.”

Eliana laughed and strode into the room. “Pretty effective pack then, aren’t they? They brought down the big, bad Alpha. But don’t worry, I’ll save you.”

She set the tray down on a nearby, low table and clapped her hands together as she straightened up.

“Hop off now you lot, it’s time to eat.”

Elbows, knees, toys, and he thought perhaps even some claws, knocked into him as the cubs made a scramble towards the snacks put out for them. He rubbed his shoulder as he watched the veritable feeding frenzy, satisfied by the sight of their healthy appetites. Therianthrope children ate a lot ( and hell, the adults did too for that matter ).

He turned his attention to the woman and gestured for her to come closer. As she sat down beside him, he asked, “Abi upstairs?”

She pulled her legs up and draped her arms loosely around them. “Yeah, she’s with the sleeping ones but they’ll be up soon.”

He waited a beat, eyes on the hungry cubs happily eating away, “...How’s she doing?”

Hesitation filled the next moment, then Eliana sighed. “She’s still pretty upset, she was really starting to like him, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.”

He knew everything, after all, and he had to act on that knowledge, even if it was difficult. He was the Alpha, he had to do what was best for the Leap and each of its members. He wasn’t about to apologise for scaring off the guy, nor was he about to explain his reasons behind it. But he would say one thing.

“She’ll get over it and find someone better.”

“Mm…” Her voice was noncommittal, then curious and pointed, “And what about you?”

“What about me?” He eyed her, wariness lining his body, though he already knew where she was going with her question.

“When are you going to find someone? It’s been a long time since T-“

“Don’t.”

“Alright, don’t bite my head off…I’m just worried about you.”

Irritation flared in his chest, burning dark, but he took a breath and forced himself to relax. She was allowed to worry about him, he reminded himself. And she had more leeway than most to exercise that right. More knowledge. That was the trouble when you knew someone for so long.

He let out a slow, steady breath and let his eyes flow slowly around the room, eventually coming back to settle on her. He lifted his hand toward her and brushed the backs of his fingers against her cheek, a silent thanks for her concern and years of support.

“You don’t have to worry about me.”

She leaned into the touch, soothed by the reassurance of pack contact, but she sighed, a reluctant smile forming as she echoed his earlier words. “Yeah, I know.”

Faint amusement softened him, and he let his hand return to his side, his eyes going to rest on the food still steadily being demolished.

Eliana’s voice came again, shifting to the comfort of discussing the cubs, “They’ve all been doing well this week.”

As she began to give brief summaries of each child’s achievements of the past several days, the children in question finished their snacks and resumed trying to take all of his attention. They climbed on him and rambled to him, and at times he had to dislodge claws and growl softly at them, but he took mental notes of what was being said about each one of them.

“They really love having you here,” Eliana said, a laugh coming as one of the cubs curled up against the side of his leg as if she was in leopard form.

Kav mock growled at a cub trying to nip at his arm, going so far as to snap his teeth at the little one ( causing a squeal and giggle from them ). His features held a certain smugness, the ‘yeah, I know’ this time going implied.

He scooped a couple of them off him and told them to go play together, and so off they went. His eyes held a slight smile as the pair managed to decide between them who would have which toy and play what role in the game.

“Y’doing good, Eliana... Tell Abi and Naomi too.”

“I will,” she said, her tone filled with warmth and her shoulders easing of any tension, “They’ll be happy to hear it. And you know…you’re doing good too, Kav.”

There was no easing of tension in his shoulders at her words, his mind instead ran through the list of all his responsibilities and wondered what he could do differently, do better. It was his instinct to refute her praise, but his long-time connection to her had him giving her the respect of accepting it with a dip of his head.

“Thanks.”

But there was always more to do.

[arcanesupern0va]

Rick In The Water; Ch2: Snap Out Of It

A/N: I'm still working on trying to find the right voice for Rick, so if you had any advice or feedback, I would appreciate it so so so much. Anyway, thanks for reading. 💜 CW: Still references to abuse, that’s just like an ongoing theme tbh, let me know if I need to tag it better, please Pairing: Rick Sanchez/Reader Words: 5768

My ao3

Masterlist

|Ch1: Second Chance|

I had only been asleep for an hour or two when my alarm went off. I climbed back out of bed, dressing quickly and touching my makeup up before heading downstairs to start breakfast. The little bit of sleep I had managed seemed to take the edge off of the pain in my arm but I popped a couple of ibuprofen for good measure. After every fight, I’d grown accustomed to serving up chocolate chip waffles and eggs, Ryan’s favorite meal, trying to win his favor back. I started my usual routine, mixing the batter and cracking the eggs but this time felt different. I wasn’t making him breakfast because I wanted to stop the fight and “make it up” to him, he had expected it. Like it was a reward for beating the tar out of me. Right as I was plating his waffles, he nuzzled in behind me, murmuring good morning in my ear before eyeing the plate in my hand hungrily. 

“Smells great babe,” he said with a self-satisfied smile, heading to the front door to grab the newspaper to read over with his breakfast. By the time he returned to the dining room, his spot at the table was filled with his plate of food, a glass of no pulp orange juice and a piping hot cup of coffee and he smiled at me, causing my skin to crawl. I quickly excused myself back into the kitchen to grab my breakfast, a small bowl of yogurt adorned with berries and a cup of coffee. I dawdled a moment, trying to avoid having to be in the same room with him for as long as possible before he called for me. “Hey, are you going to be joining me?” he asked sweetly, though I could hear the undercurrent of annoyance in his tone. I scurried back in with my bowl, apologizing and we sat down to a silent breakfast. My phone’s ringtone for Madison broke the silence, earning me an irritated glare as I quickly extracted the device from my pocket to read the message.

“Madison was just letting me know she made it to school okay,” I told him, returning my phone to my pocket.

“Tell her to come straight home after school today,” he ordered. I obliged, quickly typing out his demands. I nodded as the message sent and he returned to his breakfast. The silence returned until his alarm on his phone started to blare, telling him it was time to leave for work. He stood up quickly, briefly kissing my cheek before heading to the front door and disappearing on the other side of it. Once the door shut behind him, I finally was able to breathe a sigh of relief, tears streaming down my cheeks once my composure had been dropped. I gathered the dishes, listening intently for his car to start and speed down the road, signaling that he was well and truly gone for the day. I had buried my face in my hands, trying to stifle my sobs when I heard a sound that I could only describe as utterly sci-fi. I looked up to see a tall, slender, blue-haired man standing in my kitchen wearing a look of concern on his face with his back to a green swirl that seemed to appear and then disappear out of nowhere.

“Rick?”

“H-hey Nova. I was waiting for Dipshit to leave so I could come over here and check on you- m-make sure you were o-okay. A-are you okay?” he asked, disguising his concern as disinterest. Once the surprise of suddenly seeing him wore off, I quickly reverted to my anger from last night and greeted him with a look of disdain.

“I’m fine Rick, you can leave,” I told him coldly, turning to continue cleaning the dishes from breakfast.

“Y-yeah, the cry-crying I walked in on is what every housewife does. It’s to*uuuuuurp*tally normal,” he said, rolling his eyes at me. He stowed a white device back in his jacket before approaching me, grabbing my chin to force me to look up at him. My heart raced for a moment, going back to those vulgar thoughts from the night before coming to my senses. It was like Ryan said, he didn’t want me and I had to be kidding myself to think he would.

“W-what are you doing?” I blushed, trying to pull away before he saw through my concealer.

“J-Jesus Christ Nova, what did he do to you?” he demanded. I moved away from him quickly, trying to catch my breath again and fight back the tears burning my eyes.

“Nothing, I told you I’m fine. I want you to leave Rick,” I told him coldly, turning my back on him completely.

“M-Morty told me he overheard that piece of shit telling you you weren’t allowed around the house anymore. D-don't tell me you’re going to let that dipshit control you like that,” he demanded.

“It’s not controlling. He just wants the best from me. I disrespected him last night,” I explained.

“Dis-Disrespected him how?” he scoffed. “You were the p-perfect li-little housewife last night.”

“He said I was paying too much attention to… you,” I admitted sheepishly. I watched his face move from confusion to realization and settle on smug pride.

“Oh, s-so he’s threatened by me?” he marveled darkly. “That’s just, that’s just excellent.”

“You would say that,” I said rolling my eyes and grabbing a towel to dry my hands. “I don’t understand why. You’re my best friend’s dad.” He raised an eyebrow but remained silent. A sly smirk tickled his cheeks as he all but stared at me as though the answer to that question was obvious. “What Rick?” I demanded, growing frustrated with him. 

“He’s c-clearly threatened by my animal mag*uuuurp*netism,” he gloated, wiggling his eyebrow at me. Despite myself, a watery chuckle slips out and his look of pride is replaced by relief. “N-Nova you need to leave, like get the fuck out of here now,” he urged, dropping all humorous pretense and looking me over seriously. I realized I had been unconsciously holding my wrist delicately and my attempts to play it off were too late to stop the realization dawning on his face. 

“It’s nothing Rick; I’m fine.” I tried to assure him, tucking my hand behind my back causing me to wince.

“I’m gonna kill him,” he murmured darkly, his eyes going wide as they darted around maniacally, avoiding my gaze.

“N-no, Rick, please,” I plead weakly moving closer to him. “It would kill Maddy.”

“Well that i-it going to kill you!” he exclaimed, moving closer to inspect my wrist. I winced at his touch, the area still incredibly tender. Embarrassment flushed in my cheeks, trying to figure out the quickest way out of this conversation. 

“O-oh so you’re back for less than a month and suddenly you’re so concerned with my wellbeing?” Venom laced in my tone, as I tried my hardest to resist tears. “You don’t get to leave and come back fifteen years later and suddenly decide how much of a shitshow my life is. New flash fuckwad, it’s kind of your fault I’m in such a fucked situation.” I knew I was lashing out, that I was just trying to hurt him but I couldn’t stop myself. The anger I’d been sitting on for all these years started pouring out.

“M-my fault?” he hissed. “How the fuck did you get there Nova?”

“You fucking left! You knew everything I’d been through with my fucking parents and you still fucking left!” I had to admit, it felt pretty good to finally confront him for what he’d put me through but I still couldn’t stop the wave of guilt I felt building, waiting for the perfect moment to drown me. “Your family accepted me and cared for me and I was dumb enough to think that when I was under your roof, I was finally loved. Silly fucking me.”

“Nova, you have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about,” he growled. 

“Oh what Rick? You just leave the ones you love all the time? That’s how you get your kicks? Maybe next time, before you come barging into my home telling me how much my life fucking sucks, maybe, just maybe, you think about your own part in making that happen,” I told him coldly. A tense silence filled the room as I watched him process my words, seemingly refusing to yell back, to even say anything. “Rick, get the fuck out of my house.”

“N-Nova, wait-“ He dismissed my demands, and I could feel the heat of my rage flush against my cheeks. 

“Get. Out.”

*+*

After Rick finally left, I grabbed a bottle of wine from the refrigerator, sunk against the countertop and sobbed. I lost track of time, and before I knew it, the wine was gone and I could hear Summer and Madison climbing out of Jerry’s car, saying their goodbyes before the front door swung open.

“Mom? I’m home,” she called out. I quickly picked myself up off the floor, tossing the bottle in the trash and stumbling over to the refrigerator to look for something to make for a snack.

“Hey honey, I’m in here,” I responded. “Are you hungry?” I could feel myself swaying where I stood, opting to just grab the plastic container of strawberries from the crisper and start slicing them. Madison plopped herself down at the kitchen table, pulling out her agenda to start on her homework.

“Oh my god, yes Mom I am starving,” she said gratefully. I slapped a smile on my face as I walked over to the table to deliver her bowl of strawberries looking over her shoulder to look at the homework she’d been assigned. It honestly looked like gibberish to me, but she seemed to be breezing through it quite easily. That was her father in her. Even though he was a complete monster, he wasn’t a dipshit as Rick called him. He could pick things up incredibly quickly and had the decency to pass that trait onto his daughter.

“So what is this? Math?” I asked hesitantly as she dug into her strawberries.

“It’s a scientific equation,” she explained at length the point of the equation which just left me to sit there and nod in response. Not only did it look like gibberish, but it also sounded like it too. I was watching her work for a while in silence when swearing erupted from next door. We exchanged glances briefly, her giggling in response. “Morty’s grandpa is funny,” she snickered.

“Oh really?” I raised an eyebrow in response. 

“He asks a lot of questions about you and Dad though. I don’t think he likes Dad.” Her face flushed with embarrassment as she quickly looked to the door, relieved that he wasn’t about to jump from the other side.

“What’s not to like?” I remarked absently, standing up to peer out of the window to investigate the source of the swearing. Rick was berating Morty for messing something up, and rage swelled in my gut. Before I even realized what I was doing, I was flinging the front door open to go confront the crotchety old man abusing my godson.

“The fuck- the hell do you think you’re doing Mor*uuuurp*ty? Can’t you do one fucking- anything right?” Rick was shouting as I approached the garage. Pausing to take the scene in fully before bursting in, I sussed out that Rick was working on some new invention and Morty was supposed to be holding something steady while he worked. A childlike fascination overtook me and I resigned to pressing myself against the outer wall of the garage, opting to listen in closely. “Look M-Morty, I just want to make sure your Aunt Nova is safe- is okay, just keep the damn thing still. Do it- do it for her.” He sounded frustrated, but also a little desperate.

“Aw jeez, Rick, Aunt Nova- Aunt Nova’s strong. She’s been with Mr. Dawes for a long time now, I think she’s used to it.” I heard the sound of metal on metal as Rick slammed whatever took he was holding in his hand down onto the metal work table. 

“And w-what? That makes it okay- that makes it acceptable?” Rick seethed with anger. “I-I don’t understand why I-I’m not allowed to just kill him, but your mom said that’s strictly off the table so the next best thing is this m-mental dampener. But look, Morty, it’ll nest itself in his brain, Morty a-and it’ll neutralize his angry thoughts towards Nova, Morty. I-I-It won’t work forever but maybe we can talk some sense into her, g-get her away from him-“

“You know Rick, I don’t understand why you suddenly care so much,” Morty said angrily. “F-f-first you were avoiding her and now all of a sudden you-you're concerned for her safety?”

“Yeah, well, I care Morty. I’m not going to try to explain it to you b-because I just do,” Rick blew him off and the sounds of welding started up again, seemingly without Morty’s assistance. 

“And wh-what’s in this for you?” Morty asked scathingly, and I was surprised to hear such anger coming from the timid boy. “A-a-are you trying to sleep with Aunt Nova? That’s sick, Rick. That’s fucked up, even for you.” Morty accused his grandfather. 

“W-what? No! Even if she were interested in that, that would be n-none of your business, Mor-uuuurrrp-ty.” I was frozen in shock against the side of the garage, trying to ignore the part of me that was hoping Morty would press his grandfather for more. 

“Oh gross, you’re into Aunt Nova? Wasn’t she like, a second daughter to you?” Morty sounded horrified and I could feel my cheeks burn.

“She was Beth’s friend in high school. T-that’s all she was- is to me,” Rick tried rationalizing to his grandson. “She’s a b-beautiful girl, but that’s not why I’m trying to help her. Is it so hard to believe- so hard to comprehend that I’m not the biggest fan of domestic abuse?” It was Rick’s turn to equip a scathing tone, albeit it sounded a lot angrier and more vicious than his grandson’s.

“I just know you don’t do stuff without there being a benefit for you.” Morty’s voice was growing closer and I knew if I stayed here, I would be found out. My only option was to head toward the back of my house where their voices were too faint for me to hear. I quietly opened the gate to the back yard, slipping around it and closing it as silently as I could behind me.

“What’s going on out there?” Madison asked when I finally made it back in the kitchen.

“I think Rick and Morty were arguing over something,” I dismissed, omitting the topic of their argument because I truly didn’t know how I felt about it, and I certainly didn’t know how to explain it to her. 

“Did you talk to them when you went outside?” She asked, closing her textbook and storing it back in her backpack. 

“I didn’t want to get in the middle of it,” I told her, lost in my head trying to process everything that had happened today. “I’m gonna start dinner soon. What are you in the mood for?”

“Ooh, can we have spaghetti and meatballs? With garlic bread?” She asked eagerly. I looked over to the clock, knowing I’d have to make a quick trip to the store but since Ryan wouldn’t be home for another hour and a half, I nodded quickly. 

“You wanna go to the grocery store? If you can be quick you can bring Summer too,” I offered. She practically squealed with joy at the suggestion, finishing cleaning up her homework before running over to Smith’s house to fetch her best friend. I followed her out the front door, locking it behind me as I made my way out to the car. I was only in the car for a moment before the girls had re-emerged, followed by Rick who stood in the doorway watching us regretfully as I backed out of the driveway, turning up the radio to drown out the sounds of endless teenage girl chatter and hopefully my own thoughts. 

*+*

When we returned home with grocery bags in tow, Madison and Summer disappeared up to Madison’s room, leaving me alone in the kitchen to start dinner. I put on my favorite playlist and filled a pot with water and started the meatballs. I fell into an easy routine, breaking noodles into the pot when it came to a boil. It was barely enough of a distraction to keep my mind off of Rick though and in idle moments, I found myself zoned out and staring at the wall trying to even begin to process it. I was concluding that I wouldn't be able to, not without a high price therapist. 

I was moving everything out to the dining room when I heard Ryan pull up, quietly proud of my timing. I called upstairs for the girls, asking if Summer would be staying for dinner and receiving an “Uh, duh!” in response. My body tensed at the sound of the front door opening and closing, my husband groaning as he took off his suit jacket and stored his briefcase in the closet. For a moment, I couldn’t believe this was my life, it all felt… wrong. Nonetheless, I moved to greet Ryan with the usual peck on the cheek and smile and called the girls down for dinner, earning a distrustful eye as Madison and Summer galloped down the stairs to take their place at the table. We discussed our days, leaving me to lie about mine as I couldn’t tell my husband I had spent the morning and afternoon drunk on kitchen wine in the kitchen after I’d gotten into a heated argument with my best friends dad about the years of psychological damage he’d inflicted. I allowed myself to slip into a quiet contemplation about the conversation I’d overheard in the Smith‘s garage, taking a knock at trying to figure out how I actually felt about it, as Madison and Summer told Ryan about their days. A sudden knock on the door broke me from my reverie and Madison excused herself to answer it. 

“Summer!” she called from the hallway. “Your Grandpa is here.” She reappeared in the doorway with a surprisingly calm and collected Rick in tow, although that didn’t save me from the distrustful look Ryan was watching me with from across the table.

“Ah, Rick,” I greeted him casually, using a napkin to clear my face. “Were you here to collect Summer?” I asked politely, standing to greet him properly. Ryan’s eyes bored into the side of my head, but I knew as long as non-family members were present, I was safe from his ire. When he shook his head quickly, I raised an eyebrow, acting confused but he tore his gaze off of me to look over at Ryan. 

“Hey, Ryan. I just wanted to come over to apologize for last night if I did anything to upset you. Beth was upset that Nova wouldn’t be coming around anymore and she demanded I come over and apologize.” Rick’s tone appeared to be perfectly apologetic, but I knew it wouldn’t be that easy. I knew why he was here and I was stunned at how long it took me to come to the realization. The dampener. 

“I - well - how’d you know that?” Ryan stumbled and I silently motioned at the girls to return to Madison’s room. Rick smiled widely, a hint of a manic hysteria lurking in his smile. He rested his hand on Ryan’s back holding out his hand to make peace although not answering his question. 

“I just wanted to make sure that any disagreements or perceived disrespect between the two of us wouldn’t stand in the way of my daughter’s happiness,” he said coolly, disregarding Ryan’s question, opting instead to check out the spread for dinner. To my quiet surprise, Ryan didn’t respond and when I looked over at him, he smiled serenely at me. 

“Of course not Rick, I think I overreacted,” he admitted genuinely, much to my surprise. “I misinterpreted the situation.”

“That’s great Ryan, I’m glad we got to have this talk and clear the air,” Rick smiled at Ryan, lacking the genuine nature Ryan had.

“Would you like to stay for dinner, Rick? (Y/N) made spaghetti,” he offered, standing up and shaking Rick’s hand as if they’d been friends for years.

“You know, I’d love to,” Rick said, moving around the table to take up the seat right next to me. Realizing I was still standing, I sat back down, my eyes flicking between the two men sharing the table with me. Still stunned at my newly docile husband, I couldn’t bring myself to react or even look at Rick as he moved his chair closer to me under the guise of going for some noodles.

“(Y/N), you should serve our guest,” Ryan reprimanded me but his usual disdain was absent from his voice, replaced instead by a gentle urging. I quickly shook my head to come back to reality as I quickly stood up to start ladling food onto Rick’s plate. I stole a glance up at Rick, who gave me a small eye roll before returning to watch Ryan intently. I slid the Parmesan cheese over next to him, returning to my seat and quiet disbelief.

Rick and Ryan chatted amicably over dinner, allowing me to disappear into my head while the two talked about Ryan’s job, or more accurately, while Ryan talked about his job and Rick put on a very convincing listening face. When dinner finally wrapped up, Ryan adjourned to his office, surprisingly leaving me with Rick as I cleaned up the dishes. Once Ryan was occupied in the other room, Rick’s casual demeanor was dropped and he quickly grabbed the dishes out of my hand, opting to carry them into the kitchen himself, mumbling something about making my sprained wrist worse. 

“What did you do to Ryan?” I asked cautiously as I followed him into my kitchen, keeping my voice as low as possible. I watched him load the dishwasher, trying to ignore how bizarre just… everything was becoming. 

“Hmm?” Rick asked, peeking around the corner, keeping an eye out for Ryan himself. 

“You did something to Ryan,” I told him flatly. “He’s being docile. He left me alone with you.”

“I-I’m not going to do anything to you,” he said, his eyes narrowed up at me before opening the cabinet next to the sink, looking for dishwasher soap. “And now, neither will he,” he added darkly.

“You didn’t answer my question, Rick.” My patience was wearing thin but he continued to ignore me as he busied himself with gathering more dishes from the dining room. Running my hand through my hair, I could feel panic starting to set in. Sure, I knew what he’d done on a surface level, but I also knew that this would be way too easy of a fix. 

“Tell me what you did, Rick,” I demanded again, my tone threatening the established volume limit of our conversation.

“I just made him… nicer,” he said, frustrated as he shut the dishwasher and finally looked at me. “You and Beth seem to think that he should be allowed to keep living and while I fervently disagree, I had to go with the next best option.” I had no idea how to respond and I could feel him searching my face for any kind of reaction before continuing. “Y-you don't mind if he's dim, right? I-I'm not quite sure how much this is actually going to affect him. It’s only been used on sentient slugs. Th-this is more of an inaugural test on humans.”

“So what happens now?” I asked him, my voice trembling as I rubbed my face in my hands.

“W-well, I guess I just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t - that Beth wouldn’t lose her best friend,” he scratched the back of his neck with a shrug before turning away. “She seemed pretty pissed about it, so I figured I should fix it for her.” 

“Hmm, is that so?” I asked, still suspicious of his motives.

“Well, I mean yeah. I’m living under her roof. Pissing her off- making her mad doesn’t exactly work out well for me.” 

“I just know you don’t do stuff without there being a benefit for you.” Morty’s accusation echoed in my mind, but it was pushed away when Rick’s face lit up with an idea.

“You wanna go for a ride? I told you I’d take you out on my ship,” he asked eagerly.

“Oh yeah, Ryan would love that,” I replied, my eyes narrowed at him. He brushed me off with a wave of his hand and left the kitchen. I followed him to Ryan’s office, where he held a finger up, signaling me to wait here.

“Hey, do you mind if I steal Nova- (Y/N) for a little bit?” It was weird to hear my real name coming from Rick and to think back, I don’t think he’d ever called me by it. 

“Sure,” my husband said in a pleasant tone that I had been pretty sure he was completely incapable of. “Where are you guys going?”

“I, uh, I was just gonna take her over to see Beth. Shouldn’t be too long, I won’t have her out too late,” he lied smoothly, and I swore I could hear him winking.

“Oh, okay, cool,” Ryan replied genially. “I’ll see you around, Rick.” Rick returned, pulling me gently by my arm, heading directly to his ship.

*+*

As we climbed in the ship, Morty appeared at the doorway to the garage. He eyed Rick suspiciously as he approached the driver's side door.

“Where, uh, where are you taking Aunt Nova, Rick?” he asked angrily and I could feel myself blush at the memory of their earlier conversation. He looked at me remorsefully, and I had to quickly avert my gaze, biting my lip to resist the urge to giggle anxiously as the young kid watched me nervously. "A-Aunt Nova? Are you okay?"

"I'm great, Morty," I assured him, although the words came out strangled. My nerves were in overdrive, partially at the thought of going up even twenty feet in this enormous potential death trap and partially at the realization that I was going to be alone with Rick.

"See-see Morty, she's fine. I-I-I'm not going to do any-anything to her,” he spat at his grandson, offended. 

"Rick, don't be mean to Morty, he's a good kid," I reprimanded him, earning myself a raised eyebrow but no retaliation, something I didn't even realize I was expecting until the opportunity passed and I relaxed slightly.

"We'll be back soon Morty. She just wanted to see the ship," Rick told Morty plainly, turning the engine over. Morty's suspicion seemed to not be subsiding but he said nothing as the ship began levitating and Rick smoothly backed it out of the garage and up toward the sky. 

Before I knew it, I found myself glued to the window, taking in the beautiful sights of the city below, only blobs of light to me now. I watched as the lights slowly faded and became a wooded landscape. Rick lowered the ship slightly so I could get a better view.

"Wow," I murmured, mesmerized by sights I never thought I would be able to see outside of pictures. "It's so beautiful out here."

"It's alright," Rick smirked. "Y-y-you wanna see something truly incredible, let me take you out into space sometime." My eyes widened at the thought, tearing my eyes away from the window to look at him.

"This thing can go into space?" I asked, awestruck.

"Can it go- of course, it can go into space! What good is a SPACEship if it doesn't go into SPACE." He shook his head in amusement as my cheeks flushed pink.

"Rick, the headlights are flashlights. Excuse me for not expecting a lot from it." I told him flatly, trying to stop the smirk that was playing at my cheek.

"You keep making fun of my headlights…" he grumbled, "Y-y-you want me to show you or not?" he asked grumpily.

"Yes," I replied breathlessly. He pressed a couple of buttons on the dash before shifting and grinning wildly at me.

"Yooou're gonna want to put your seatbelt on,” he told me. I quickly belted myself in as the ship began building up speed as it headed for the sky. As we approached the atmosphere, he pressed another couple buttons and he pressed the gas even harder, pushing me back into my seat as we finally broke through. He started slowing the ship down, turning to me to watch my reaction as I took in the inky dark that now surrounded us. He wasn't kidding, it was beautiful out here and I didn't have the words to even react to the astounding view. "L-like I said, incredible huh?" he smirked at me, and I looked over at him, mouth hanging agape.

"No wonder you never came back," I murmured. When he sighed next to me, pressing a button to stabilize the ship and hover, I immediately regretted it.

"That's not- it wasn't like that,” he told me, exasperated. "I mean, i-i-it was kind of like that, but it wasn't because I didn't like- didn't want to be around you. You were an incredible kid and I wanted like hell to stay, but I just… couldn't." 

"I really don't want to talk about this right now Rick," I told him, exhausted at the thought. "I just lost my space virginity, and I kind of want to have this memory be a pleasant one." He opened his mouth to speak, but seemed to think better of it, he closed it again and we fell into a comfortable silence. We existed in that silence for a while, before an alert in his pocket went off. He pulled out a high tech looking device and sighed as he read the message on it.

"We should be getting back,” he informed me regretfully, pushing a button on the dash to take us out of the hover mode keeping us in stationary.

"R-Rick, if Ryan is going to be acting docile, do you think we could come out here again?" I asked nervously, averting my eyes to take in the last bit of the view as we broke through the atmosphere yet again. Rick was quiet for a moment, considering my question.

"Maybe we could take you with us now and then," Rick answered finally. 

"We?"

"M-Morty and I go out on adventures from time to time, you could come with us on the less dangerous ones,” he explained.

"The less dangerous ones?" I asked incredulously. "What are you doing to my godson?"

"N-nothing bad!" he contested. "Sometimes, shit just goes wrong."

I sat in silence for a moment, really thinking everything over before responding, "I want to go on adventures, but I want to also go on the ones that are considered dangerous." I declared finally.

"I'm not going to take you somewhere you might die," he told me, rolling his eyes. "I didn't neutralize your husband so he wouldn't kill you so I could take out and get you killed myself." Going out into space had pushed Ryan so far out of my mind, even briefly and anxiety washed over me again at the thought of going back to my house. Before I could voice my fears, my house was coming back into view and I pulled my phone from my pocket to check the time. 2:30 am. I was so dead.

"You won't have to worry about it because it's way too late and he's going to kill me for being out this late," I panicked. My breathing quickened and suddenly it felt as though I needed to get out of this ship as soon as possible. Rick looked over at me as he landed the ship to find me hyperventilating.

"H-h-hey, Nova, hey- c-calm down, i-it's gonna be okay," he tried to soothe me. As soon as the ship touched down, I wrenched the door open, pouring out on the floor as my legs had become no better than noodles. Rick hurried around the ship with a groan, picking me up off the ground and resting me in his workshop chair. "N-Nova, it's okay. He's not going to hurt you." He dug through his labcoat before extending his flask to me. I took a grateful swig, grimacing at the harsh liquid within. 

"You don't know that. You said yourself that you've never tested that dampener on a human. You don't know what he's like, Rick," I croaked. He groaned angrily, digging through some of the boxes that now filled the garage before producing a small disc-shaped device. He pressed it against the back of my hand and after a light pinch, he removed it and tossed it away.

"If anything happens, if he starts getting angry, tonight or any other time, press into that spot and I'll be there immediately," he explained. "Be warned, if you push that, he's probably going to die, just, uh, full disclosure." 

"Why are you doing all this Rick?" I asked tearfully. He turned his back to me with a shrug.

"I just want you to be safe," he murmured. We sat in silence again, passing his flask back and forth as my breathing slowly returned to normal. I finally resolved to face my husband when my head was finally feeling nice and foggy and he waved goodbye from his bench, leaving me to walk back to my house alone. 

As the front door shut behind me, I expected a light to flick on and my husband to greet me in a drunken stupor, but he wasn't there. As I crept through the quiet house, I waited for him to pop out at any moment but it wasn't until I entered our bedroom that I found him sleeping peacefully. I quickly showered and carefully climbed into bed to avoid waking him. As I closed my eyes, I was treated to a recap of everything I'd seen today, and my dreams were filled with ideas of adventures at Rick's side.

+Ch3: Neon Moon+

[fightevilandthengetblownup]

Smoke & Trouble I

—

The sound of brass instruments and the disjointed drumming of a jazz beat filled the paved street as the automobile pulled to a stop on the opposite corner to the once rundown building. The windows were frosted and opaque, with only the fuzzy shadows of silhouettes moving behind them being visible through them alongside the yellow glow of the lighting inside. The facade had finished its repaint the previous week, dark charcoal tones offset by the golden lettering of the establishment’s name above the door. The Fort had been reborn like a pheonix from the ashes two years earlier.

The blond man opened the door to his drivers seat, slipping from the vehicle quietly as he reached into the backseat to withdraw the dark cane with only the slightest orante detailing visible under his palm and the silver point digging into the gaps between the stone pavement. He drew his cap lower over his face as he made his way towards the building, cane clicking on the stones as he moved aong the busy street.

The city had changed significantly within the last two years - factories growing larger and larger, the slums spreading further and further, and Small Heath building up from the slums to the epicentre of power for the underbelly of the city. The Faceless Shadows had grown along with it, their numbers expanding and their reach with the assistance of their alliances to the Catholics in the north and the successful intergration of legitimate gambling licences and investments through the Visyak Family Ltd with the Shadows other lines of work building them into the untouchable controllers of Birmingham and those smaller towns and cities nearby.

Michael lit a cigarette as he walked towards the pub, which had been the very first of the legitimate Visyak Family investments prior to its destruction. Two years had been a long time to rebuild the facility, however other elements had to be addressed first, other areas had to be rebuilt first, other hurts had to be healed first. The blond man rested his weight upon the cane as he made his way inside, the warm glow off of the golden trims drenching his hair golden too.

It had been two years since that week when everything had changed for them, and limping his way across to the private room, still private and left for Shadow business, Michael knew that nothing had diluted the power he held in this space. A limp from the gun shot to his thigh, where two inches further left would have had him bleeding out on the dusty country road, did nothing but add to the dangerous edge to the Shadow leader.

His brother’s and son were all already seated around the tables in the back room, drinks before them and a space awaiting his arrival.

“Good first night of business, boys?” “It would be if Ian’s girl hadn’t been allowed to choose the music.” “Nothing wrong with the new sound, Uncle Jeff-” “It’s a goddamn fucking racket is what it is.” “Yeah, but look out there what it gets them girls doing.”

Michael slid into his seat with a sigh as uncle and nephew began bickering for the tenth time that month since the newest addition to the family had begun suggesting ideas, expressing opinions and talking back to the older Shadow. Looking out the open door to the open areas of the pub, whereby a group of young women including the dark haired wife of the youngster were all dancing freely as would never have occurred even two years prior. Amongst the crowd, Shada was clearly visible dancing with a champagne flute in hand.

“Jackson…” Michael growled out the word with a raised brow at their sister’s antics, and the youngest of the brother’s got up wordlessly to collect the girl for a drink at the bar instead.

Jeffrey’s arguments appeared to dull at the sight of the gyrating women, skirts flapping about their thights and laughter filling the pub in such a way that had not been heard in the area since before even the war. His son’s blue eyes were fixated upon where his new wife Lenore was dancing within the crowd as well. Michael had not particularly approved the pair, but all were allowed their childish mistakes, and Michael had made his own at his boy’s age. The wedding had been quick and quiet as it had been his own twenty years ago, though the pair had been practically inseperable for the last four months. By Ian’s age, he already had a wife with the boy on her hip, and the way the two were going, the whole family expected similar news soon enough.

Letting out a stream of smoke, Michael surveyed what he could see of the pub, styled after the extravogent clubs flooding London and drawing the eye of those with either too much money or too little sense, with too many nightmares and stresses and a desire to escape from the grit and grime of the daily toil.

Destroying the old to make way for the new world, Michael knew the destruction of the original Fort under the guise of arsonist’s of their home had paved the way for the Shadows into the modern day. Flexing his weak leg under the table, he knew that week so many weeks ago had pushed the whole family forward despite the set backs of it, and this grand reopening of The Fort renamed as it was in respect as Harry’s Fortress would be the next push for them all.

—

Sunday race days were back to being one of his favourite days of the week. Usually it meant an early rise with whomever was the lady of choice the previous night - be her a new conquest or one of his old faithfuls - and a hot breakfast of tea and whiskey to fight off the accumulating hangover. Then he’d don his favourite Sunday suit, the one that allowed for the most ease of movement, and was dark enough to hide any unsightly stains that may occur throughout the day. And then onto the races, either north or to the west depending on the month, to crack down on his boys’ and spend the afternoon drinking and smoking with the leader of the Catholics in the bar on site while their coins would roll in.

He was up to that point today, and returning to their table towards the side of the dance floor where both men could survey those around them as well as keep a wall at their backs, Jeffrey sank into his chair with a smirk - glass sat carefully upon the wood table top ignoring the coaster for it completely.

“Just heard from the boys that all is looking well for the day. None of those fucking Black Eye boys trying to cause a fuss this week, and plenty of wagers to make us all happy.”

“Some of us happier than others, too. That horse of yours back on it’s winning streak today?” Gabriel smirked back, his own glass almost empty. The exasperated look from his wife as he sat his drink back down on the table top was clear that she thought he had had enough and it had barely past midday. "How much that horse won for you Shadows since you got him? You looking at adding a new one to the roster yet?”

Jeffrey frowned at that comment, not sure what to make of it before shrugging a shoulder as he looked out at the floor of dancing couples. Not the same as had begun taking over the Fort since the reopening, but the traditional stiff movements and old fuddy duddys with no rhythym. “You’d have to ask one of the others about those for an exact answer but pretty sure it’s paid for Ma’s new house-”

“Didn’t she move in with that copper?” “Ex-copper. Bloke bloody retired last year, such a shame, would have been useful having the head ‘form on the books.” “If you boys are ever in trouble, make sure to ask for Dean Winchester - Castiel’s got him on the books good and solid.”

The dark haired man gave a sharp nod at the other’s comments, well aware the recently appointed Chief Constable was on the Catholics payroll. There had been rumours of it being more than money changing hands, however there had been even more rumours of what happened to those who shared those whispers. He tipped his head back, finishing the remains of his glass with a smirk, returned to the table beside the other’s empty glass as well.

“Regardless, that pretty pony has more than made up for it’s cost.”

“Has it now? It’s full cost, huh.” The words surprised the Shadow from the usually silent woman, her red lips pulled into a knowing smirk. There was something truly smug in her look, and a dark sense to the words as Kali looked across at him. “Dear, my glass is empty. Could you?”

“Of course, mon amour.” Gabriel rose to his feet quickly at the query, his own face studiously blank as if not reacting to his wife’s original comments at all. He disappeared into the crowd of dancers in the general direction of the bar without another word, nor a concerned look at all at leaving the woman with the known hothead.

Jeffrey however reacted much more slowly to the pointed comment, hand digging into his jacket pocket for a smoke as he looked at the dark skinned beauty carefully. Lighting up, he leant back in his chair with an air of feigned disinterest. “The cost was paid for within the first two races from what I recall-”

“I asked about it’s full cost, not the pounds put out for it.” “What else did it cost than pounds then?” “I have not seen your younger brother at the races in almost two years, is that right? And from what I have heard, there were some additional items exchanged related to the animal.” “Where would you have heard that from?”

The Indian woman simply shrugged a shoulder, red stained lips stretched wide in a vindictive smile as she looked back at him. Jeffrey could feel his free hand, the one not flicking the ash off the end of his cigarette, clenching into a tight fist at her smug non-response. He was not above hitting a woman if it was required, and the self-satisfied look made him think it may well become required any moment soon.

“I would imagine that you Shadows would have learned by now between your sister, that whore and your own mother to stop underestimating a woman’s power, Jeffrey.” Kali’s tone was almost acidic in her softly accented voice, as the goddess stood up at her husband’s approach. Circling an arm around his shoulder and planting a kiss on his cheek, the woman shot Jeffrey one more knowing smirk before making her way into the crowds with her champagne in hand.

“What has my wife done now?” Gabriel’s worn tone smoothed some of the fury Jeffrey had begun to feel, eyes trying to follow where the dark haired woman disappeared to but losing her quickly.

“Loose lips sink ships, Gabriel, and it seems your wife’s lips are extremely loose.” Jeffrey growled back, accepting the glass of whisky from the other with a scowl. “Might want to look into that.”

—

The pair were the only two still remaining in the office suite that evening as dusk had been left far behind and the streets had been swallowed entirely by the darkness of true night. Visyak Family Ltd had some of the most impressive offices in the city, dark mahogany and crisp leather providing cover for the darker secrets of the business’ legitimate and illegitimate dealings, and only the two men were all that remained of the work force as the clocks approached midnight.

Jackson rubbed tiredly at his eyes for a moment as he looked down at the small sheaf of papers detailing their planned trip into the city to the finite detail he always maintained for such activities. The planning for all eventualities, the carefully compiled dossier on their prospective partner and all those connected to him, the rows and rows of calculations on how to achieve the goal as profitably as possible.

The other man was sat across the desk from him, copying word for word each page passed to him into the thick black leather journal for their trip. The writing was cramped, tiny and dark with the odd ink splotch getting on the corners of the pages.

As the clock moved to strike one, the pair finally rested back in their chairs as the last dot and slash was finished, and the file was tucked away safely in the locked cabinet.

The dark haired man collected two glasses, pouring a large splash of brown liquor into each as he moved to sit down on his side of the desk again. His office was not as spacious nor well outfitted as his older brothers’ - the third best office for the third brother after all, despite his ideas, his ambitions and his careful planning being the true factor behind their success. His office may not be the best, but as both men sipped at their drink, Jackson did not bite down the smile at the knowledge that his office had the best alcohol by far.

“So, now all we need is a cover story for our London jaunt.” He said with a sigh, blue eyes closing tightly as he reclined back in his leather desk chair as if closing them would be enough to heal the strain of another late night in the dimly lit room reading and writing files.

“What possibilities have you come up with thus far, Jacky?” The other man, his right hand man in all ways in the last two years quietly. Richard ‘The Wolf’ Amon had grown quickly in the years since his faked death. His head still rung with the sounds of war on more occasions than he would like, however he had been accepted into the business more fully than he had in past. The tasks and drive giving the man something to focus on other than the screams of the incoming detonations.

“Ma is due back this weekend from her... vacation, perhaps that could be an excuse to accompany her return.” “Bit late notice wouldn’t it be?” “Perhaps...”

Jackson frowned slightly as he shared a look of exasperation with the culry haired man across from him. The whole success of this meeting was hinged upon being able to successfully organise, orchestrate and operate the plan without the knowledge of the rest of the family. That the hour was so late, that both had been working non-stop for four hours on the practical and future elements of this venture did not excuse their inability to craft an acceptable lie to conceal their actions within. Blue eyes stared into the brown liquid of his glass as if they were hiding the last piece to his puzzle, just below the reflective surface.

“Would your sister wish to go to London? Maybe we could chaperone her.” Amon questioned quietly, eyes diverted towards the only window in the room as if not wanting to meet the others eye. The man had taken his one-time assignment watching over the only girl of the Visyak family to be a long-term task; often found following the girl about Small Heath or the rest of Birmingham as if he was her own shadow. It was not uncommon to see the dark haired pair, with the curly-haired man carrying an umbrella for the other, or her outter coat thrown over his arm when the sun came out. “You’d like that wouldn’t you.”

The pair lapsed into an awkward silence at that point, one of the men flushed and focussed upon his drink to avoid responding; the other focussed more upon how to hide his business travel into the city from the rest of the family. His meeting was not for the Visyak Family books nor the Faceless Shadows ledgers yet; until an arrangement and agreement made, this could not appear anywhere in the official or unofficial accounts, nor had he discussed his plans at any family meetings since he had first begun investigating the opportunity.

Much like with that horse and those godforsaken guns, this was part of Jackson Visyak’s personal and private goals to achieve. Part of his secret goals to step out from beneath the ever reaching shadows of his older brother’s - a cog in the machine designed to allow him his own emancipation from Michael’s controlling behaviour and Jeffrey’s dark reputation. If he, the youngest, the smallest, the runt of the family could pull this together, Jackson would never again stand beneath anyone in his family and eventually the whole nation. Never again would someone look at him and remember his failings.

“Perhaps Shada would enjoy a trip to the city...”

—

It was a typically wet English day, dreary weather and grey clouds with the never ending cold that would soak straight into your bones the moment the drizzle would start. The clouds were dark and threatening to let loose their bounty, but it had kept off thus far as the couple stepped off of the train and were waved to cheerfully by the two smiling women that had come to see their return.

“Ma!” “Elle!” “Girls!”

The greetings came loud and happy as Eleanor released her husband’s hands to embrace her daughter and granddaughter-in-law tightly. Both girls had become close friends in the last year since the engagement, and Eleanor was so pleased to find that that had not changed while she was away enjoying her travels abroad.

As Eleanor pulled back from the hugs, she smiled to herself as Shada threw herself at her new step-father to likewise greet the typically grumpy man. Robert Singer was well known for his perpetually existing frown, however that had not stopped the dark haired girl from treating him like a member of the family the moment he had slipped the golden band on her mother’s finger. The man had grumbled about it at length the week before they left for the continent, but Eleanor could always see the small smile twitching at the corners of his mouth under the scruff when he would do so.

There was a cough from behind the giggling girls, and Eleanor found herself quickly covered by a large umbrella moments before the downpour began.

“Thank you, Richard dear.” “You’re welcome, Mrs Visyak- uh.. Singer?”

Smiling at the typically nervous boy in response, the older woman found her arm threaded through her husband’s as the quintet made their way out of the station and into the shiny black Pierce-Arrow awaiting them. The car was new, Eleanor did not recall it being in the collection just two months ago, and as the five made their way to the elegant house Eleanor and her now husband had moved into before their honeymoon began she spotted the rest of the fleet of vehicles ranging from the old Chalmers from four years earlier, to the Buick’s her son’s frequently drove around in, to the one Rolls Royce Michael had indulged himself in after the injury. Something about making a classic impression with a modern design. The vehicle maketh the man, or some such rot.

“Is the whole family here to greet us?” The grumbled words came from the man in front seat, the cap upon his head pulled down further over his forehead as he seemed to shrink into the seat. Her husband never appreciated being the cente of attention. She knew first hand that while he could be charming, confident and downright commanding in the right circumstances, that being faced with her entire brood and their collective expanding circle of quasi-family members was not one of those circumstances. “Thought they’d be...getting ready for a race or something.”

“Races aren’t until Sunday, silly! Plus, we all wanted to welcome you home good and proper.” Eleanor watched as her daughter replied haughtily, though the sweet smile on her face as she leant forward to wrap an arm around the man’s shoulder belied the potential condescending nature of her words. “Jacky and Amon also had to run by my trip with the others, so we figured why not a family meeting too.”

Eleanor felt the blood rush from her face at that, eyes wide as she clambered from the car with the assistance of the young man who’d driven them. He then turned his attention to helping the other girls from the car, following the pair into the house ahead of the newlyweds.

“They’ve called a family meeting already?” “Guess we’re throwing you in the deep end, love.” “Thought I was through with this when I retired. They do know retirement is supposed to be peaceful...” “I’m sure that this year will be more peaceful than the last.”

“Last year your eldest was still healing from getting shot in some unknown incident he still will not share the details about, your middle boy was in jail almost as much as out, and your youngest-”

Eleanor coughed loudly as Robert appeared to be working himself up into one of his infamous rants, hands tugging this way and that at his cap as if unable to reach a comfortable point with it. Her own hands reached for his as they stood on the path leading towards the door and the madness that was her family behind it.

“Love, this year... this year will be our year. Our chance to start anew together, our new life together. It will be the start of our story, and we will not dwell on the troubles of the past.” She spoke firmly, fingers weaving through his, and the older man smiled ruefully at her optimism.

Pressing a kiss to her lips that sent butterflies through her as they always did, Eleanor sighed softly in response to the man’s gruff response, “I wish that could be, Elle’, I wish that for you.”

—

The music was loud. Loud enough to make the crystal chandeliers shake and shiver in time with the giddy crowd circling beneath it in exhuberant movements. If she looked close enough at the dark corners around the room, it would be clear dancing and drinking were not the only activities being engaged in that night within the private club. In the quiet swells of the unpredictable jazz tunes filling the building, the sounds of moans, groans and the occasional scream could be heard from those secret and almost private spaces.

The dark haired girl was not there for those engagements however. The Marie Antoinette glasses used by the premises suited the glamour the club tried to present, while also maintaining the seductive streak, that gentle brush against what a good girl would be seen engaging in and what she wouldn’t. Lifting her glass to her lips, crystal cold against her lips, and the deep plum lipstick mark of her kiss left upon it as she turned to watch the revellers, eyes wide and drinking in the sights like her lips drank down the French wine.

So many luxurious fabrics, so many golden accents and illuminated refractions danced around the room alongside the dancers themselves; bathing the darkness in the rainbow and sucking the eye away from the secret engagements.

When her brother and Amon had suggested a trip to the city, she was certain they had not intended to for her to go to a place such as this. She was certain if her brother could see where she was, he would have her in the backseat of his Buick heading back to Birmingham within moments. His friend would not have allowed her within the lobby itself, let alone through to the main room of the club. If Jeffrey were the brother, he would be in one of the booths with his cock being sucked and a glass in each hand without a care at all at her presence. If it were Michael.. well, Michael never suggested anything of interest any more.

Sighing, Shada turned back to the bar itself as she finished her drink and flagged down the barman for another.

“I am glad to see I am not the only woman, unaccompanied, this evening.” The voice spoke from beside her, a gentle Russian accent gliding over the words like the silks both women wore.

The woman had a look of amusement on her face, her dark eyes rimmed in black liner and lips a bloody red. Her dark hair was amassed around her head in waves, and there was a modern headpiece band across her forehead. It shone in the dim light, the beautiful diamonds and rubies decorating the silver looking almost as if they were real.

Shada’s eyes focussed upon their glimmering, if they were real, this woman was about to become her new best friend.

“Seems that there were quite a few of us earlier.” “Yes, it does seem that way. Perhaps we are arriving late to the party.” “All the acceptable men appear to have-” “Made their way to secluded places with the less pretty women?”

Shada found herself smiling at the woman’s comment, flicking her own hair back from her shoulder as she turned her full attention to the other woman. “Nice to meet you, I’m Shada Visyak.”

“Ruby Tolstoy, please to meet you.” The slightly disjointed words came out with a friendly smile from the Russian as the barman returned to fill both womens glasses. “I am happy to meet lady much as myself.”

Shada smirked a little in return, twisting in her chair and recrossing her legs as she looked the other woman over. Aside from the extremely expensive looking headpiece, she appeared to also have excellent taste in clothes as much as she herself did. Both women had on stylish dresses, with delicate beading over the intricate lace work, and if Shada was not mistaken the other’s silk slip beneath her overdress was almost as good as her own. The Shadow was drapped in black silk, black mesh and black lace with deep purple beading; while the Russian was in a deep red ensemble. However while the other had the beautiful headpeice that had recently come into style, her own neck was adorned with long silver chains and pearls instead of diamonds and rubies.

“Perhaps you like dance together instead of with pitiful men not worth dirt beneath foot?”

“You would not have to ask me twice!” Shada smiled back at the other, as she tapped her glass to the others with a clink. The pair finished the most recent round of champagne, each savouring the bubbles as much as one can, before both girls rose to their feet.

Taking a hold of the other woman’s hand, Shada weaved the pair of them towards the dancefloor to join in the spirited mass of bodies, to move to the music, to lose hours into the early hour of the morning when the sun would rise and dye the sky red.

—

“Welcome to me bakery. We bake the brown bread, we bake the white bread, we make the best bread in London, you know.” The cheery sounding words were matched by the warm smile and the open arm gestures about the factory as he was guided through into it’s depths. The smell of molasses surrounded them, thick and sticky in the air, clogging up Jackson’s nose as they moved through the busy distilery. “Over ten thousand loaves a week, we bake. Anything like this up in your little back country sticks?”

“Not to this extent,” he replied, hands tucked into his coat pockets as the pair stopped at a table littered with bottles and glasses. Jackson looked about old factory, the store room with the curved red bricks above them filled with barrels in each store section. “Ten thousand a week you say?”

“Between the bread and the other bread, ten thousand.” The shorter Jewish man replied back, waving a hand at the table. “Want to try some of me wares? Brown or white?”

“Brown.” “Brown it is. Be a good lad, pour ‘im some brown would you. What you think of that, mate?”

Jackson waited for the nameless man behind the table to pour a splash into a glass, before trying the warming brown drink. Rum was not his preference, but it was a desirable asset in the America’s, even more so now that there was the loom of prohibition. Real whiskey would always be worth more, but the mark ups would lose their chance for a wider market.

“Not bad...” “Not bad? What fuckin’ bullshit. Brown bread is for the workers, it’s trash, awful stuff that is. White is for the bosses.” “Got to know where you come from, Mr. Gallagher.” “True that, true that. Come’on then lets get down to real business.”

Andy Gallagher lead the pair back towards the office in the back corner of the factory. Away from the cloying scent of cooking sweet sugar mixes, away from the heat of the distilery spires. Away from the downcast eyes of the factor workers. The shorter man did not make an exceptionally threatening look to him, scruffy hair and a somewhat unkempt beard, shorter stature and a stained white shirt with his waist coat and apron just as brown with dirt and signs of work. However the hard set of his jaw, the few dark patches of ink visible on his skin where the sleeves were pushed up and the way none of his workers even dared look up at his passing, made it clear he was not a pushover.

Entering the office, the Jewish man moved straight for his seat behind the desk, and Jackson ambled in behind him. Sliding his jacket off and throwing it over the back of the chair before it, before sitting down himself. Lighting up a cigarette, he pinned the other with a piercing look.

“You boys from Birmingham..I’ve heard some very bad, bad things about you lot.” “I came here to discuss business with you, Mr. Gallagher. You are no squeaky clean operation here yourself, so..” “Eh that is true, business it is then.”

Both men raised a brow at one another, one appearing calm and relaxed as the king of his own castle, golden chains around his wrists and fings on his fingers glinting in the lantern light, while the other appeared to sink into the darkness of the underlit room, dark suit and darker hair hidden in the shadows his group were named for.

“You’re in the losing side of a war here, Mr. Gallagher, against the Reapers and those new witches alike.” “A war ain’t over till it’s over, mate. You’ve been in wars, you know this.” “Our war is over, it’s your war now - and we could be of great assistance in yours. You need to be more realistic.”

The baker’s eyes fashed slightly, a small frown forming on his face as he leant forward in his chair, elbows resting atop the desk surface as he surveyed the other. Jackson merely stared back, steely blue eyes taking in everything and not reacting as the other man seemed to slid into his own thought process.

“Realistic?!” “If you weren’t in a war, you wouldn’t have sent that telegram last month.” “That was just a friendly ‘hello’ of all things-” “Look, you are losing here. Your distilery makes up ten percent of your takings, another ten is in security and the rest is from the race tracks right? You’re not going to like what I have to say, Mr Gallagher-” “Andy if you’re goin’ to be rubbin’ me this closely, sweetie.”

Jackson bit down a growl at the man’s interruption and his cavalier, crass words, though the wave of the baker’s man for him to continue allowed him a sigh. “Your bookies are getting chased off the tracks, we can help with that. The premises that take your rum are getting closed down, we can help with that. People not trusting your protection any more, we can help with that. And all we ask in return is a partnership.”

“We can help, aye?” Andy Gallagher’s eyes lit up at that, a grin sliding across his face as he fished a bottle of whiskey from the drawer of his desk. “And where is the rest of this we, Mr. Visyak. Where is the rest of your collective Visyak Family, huh? Where are those little Shadows that storm about Birmingham, eh?”

“I am the one you are working with, Mr. Gallagher, and you will come to see just what I can achieve for the both of us.”

—

[difficultdivine]

The Enduring Appeal of the ‘Fake Relationship’ Rom-Com

 Hannah Giorgis     

Aug 20, 2018 

To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before, the new Netflix adaptation of Jenny Han’s 2014 novel, brings a sweet, teen-focused approach to one of the most beloved hallmarks of the romantic comedy.

The new Netflix romantic comedy To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before, an adaptation of the Jenny Han novel, revels in the in-between. Protagonist Lara Jean Covey (Lana Condor) finds herself perpetually stuck in the middle: She’s the biracial daughter of an American father (John Corbett) and a deceased Korean mother; she’s the second of three sisters. She’s not quite awkward enough to be a social outcast at school, but she’s certainly not as cool as her former best friend, Gen (short for Genevieve), whose heartthrob boyfriend Peter Kavinsky (Noah Centineo) is their high school’s “king of the cafeteria.”

But for much of the film’s 99-minute run, the most nebulous territory Lara Jean occupies is the space between “real” and “fake” girlfriend. The central tension of To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before begins when, unbeknownst to Lara Jean, her little sister, Kitty (Anna Cathcart), mails the love letters Lara Jean has written to her five crushes over the years. “My letters are my most secret possessions,” Lara Jean explains early into the film. “There are five total: Kenny from camp, Peter from seventh grade, Lucas from homecoming, John Ambrose from Model UN, and Josh. I write a letter when I have a crush so intense I don’t know what to do.” That Josh is Lara Jean’s older sister’s boyfriend (and later, ex) renders that specific crush most dangerous. When Peter, the first boy to address Lara Jean’s affections after having received his letter, approaches her on the track field, Lara Jean notices the envelope in his hands and faints. She recovers from the fainting spell only to notice Josh rapidly walking toward her carrying a letter of his own. Lara Jean adopts a swift, uncharacteristic course of action: She pins Peter onto the track and kisses him. Later, bumping into her at a café, Peter gently reiterates his disinterest in Lara Jean and tells her that he and Gen are only newly broken up. In the delightfully awkward conversation that ensues, Lara Jean admits to Peter that she kissed him to avoid the discomfort of Josh thinking that she likes him. The revelation sets Peter’s scheme into motion, and he proposes a perfect, fraudulent solution:

“What if we let people think that we were actually together? Just for a little while. And not just [Josh]. I mean everybody.”

“Why would you want that?” “Well for starters, when Gen heard you kissed me, she went nuts, and if she thinks that you and I are a thing, then she’ll wanna get back together.” “Oh, so you wanna use me as your pawn?” “Ah, well, see … technically, you used me as your pawn first when you jumped me.”

The following day, the two formalize their ruse with a contract. It’s a blissfully naive document, one that unsurprisingly renders itself obsolete throughout the course of their publicity stunt, but it’s not without precedent. To All the Boys breathes new life into the “fake relationship” trope, itself a hallmark of the romantic comedy. Through the accidental courtship of Lara Jean and Peter, the film makes the case for the enduring appeal of artifice as a precursor to genuine connection. Their courtship, contrived though it may be, offers glimpses of sincere warmth throughout the movie. That Peter has fallen for Lara Jean by the time their school’s annual ski trip rolls around isn’t surprising to anyone but Lara Jean herself. The fake-relationship trope endures in no small part because of the same factor that makes the rom-com such a satisfying genre: The mystery is not in what the endpoint itself will be, but in how the would-be lovers will get there.

Any romantic comedy that sees its protagonists entering into a contract, formal or otherwise, to feign attraction lets viewers in on a secret: These two silly dopes don’t know what’s coming, but the rest of us do. In watching two people foolishly assume they can stick to the rules and regulations of a relationship designed for non-amorous motives, audiences gain a double satisfaction: Not only do viewers get to see the requisite rom-com happy ending, but they also get to feel smug about it. What’s more alluring than the opportunity to smirk a bit while feeling wholesome joy?

Lara Jean Covey and Peter Kavinsky may be the newest entrants into the category, but the queen of the fake-relationship rom-com is undoubtedly Sandra Bullock. The star of both 1995’s While You Were Sleeping and 2009’s The Proposal, Bullock is a master of evolving from headstrong and affection-avoidant to unexpectedly smitten. In both films, Bullock’s performance is satisfying because it replicates a nearly universal avoidance of the vulnerability that relationships require. Admitting any attraction is difficult, but admitting to another human being that your pulse has grown to match the cadence of their words, glances, and touches can feel like a willful flaying. Therein lies the central trick of the relationship ruse: Establishing guidelines for how to stay uninvested in another human being is such a tempting, if obviously futile, endeavor. Proximity is, after all, a powerful aphrodisiac. If it’s possible to fall in love within the span of 36 questions, how much more enrapturing is the cocoon of a counterfeit union? In classic teen-romance fashion, Lara Jean and Peter’s first serious conversation about the nature of their fake relationship occurs just a quick step away from the athletic facility that served as the site of their second kiss (the first being the result of a spin-the-bottle game in middle school that enraged Gen and emboldened Lara Jean). In full view of the lacrosse field, the two soon-to-be business associates sketch out their plan at Lara Jean’s behest:

“So, first things first, we need to have a contract so we’re on the same page about the rules.” “You got rules? Come on, you really know how to zap the fun out of a situation.”

The appeal of the rules is, of course, their irrelevance. Not a single one of Lara Jean’s declarations stops Peter from falling for her—or Lara Jean from moving out of her comfort zone (somewhere between the world of literature and the world around her). Again, the protagonists are desperately, deliciously wrong. The fake-relationship rom-com, with its unabashed adherence to the classic formula, thrills in part because most viewers are all too familiar with what it feels like to baldly deny feelings for another person even as they become patently obvious to everyone else. To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before may be a teen romance, but Lara Jean’s anxieties about love—that letting people into your life can very easily lead to disappointment should they subsequently walk out—are shared by plenty of adults. And watching Peter slowly fall for her (while respecting Lara Jean’s boundaries, a sticking point that some rom-coms have struggled with) is a welcome contrast to the austerity of the “relationship contract.” As Peter, Centineo is at once bashful and transparent; his voice cracks with enthusiasm, his eyes beam with adoration. The small movements speak volumes. Condor, meanwhile, infuses the ingenue Lara Jean with both wistfulness and gravity; her glances alone convey the depth of Lara Jean’s ill-contained crush on Peter.

It’s thus hard to react with anything but genuine glee as the smitten Peter twirls Lara Jean around in the cafeteria, makes a sojourn all the way across town to get her favorite yogurt drink from the Korean grocery store, and writes her daily notes with an increasing sense of urgency.   None of these acts officially breaks the rules that Lara Jean established for their false union, but that’s the point. Even in the face of self-imposed barriers, love—teenage or otherwise—finds a way to make itself known. To restrict it to the confines of a business agreement in the hopes of suppressing it is to misunderstand the most essential truth about relationships: Love is always a contract. As Peter tells Lara Jean, “You just have to trust.”

[thejollyrunner]

The Sober Diaries

The timing of going sober was always going to be questionable, considering I share a house with a teenager. That said, the last 2 weeks haven’t been too bad, although I definitely noticed that my mood went through the predicted “tense” phase. I dethroned the Grumpster for his title and crowned myself Grumpress. You can be assured I have ruled my dominion with much whinging. My brain also turned to mush. It was like being pregnant all over again. And as my stomach has swollen due to the hot chocolates and extensive treats I’ve awarded myself for abstinence, I count myself lucky theologians haven’t been hammering down the door to proclaim the new miracle conception.

Alcohol Free Down Under

The lack of alcohol hasn’t been an issue, per se. I realised my personal interest is more for something tasty to drink that isn’t actually another glass of water. Sugary gloop – pop/soda/fizzy whatever-you-want-to-call-it doesn’t hit the mark as a refreshing drink, and there’s only so many cups of tea I can cope with before I’m buzzing all night from caffeine overload. Which defeats the point of trying to defy the 3am wakeup call that alcohol so reliably provides. So, wine is a dry, pleasant-tasting alternative, and I realised I missed having a cold beverage. So I set about tracking down something to fill the void.

SoberMummy recommended Beck’s Blue as a decent tasting no-alcohol beer. I checked out several of the local off-licences. There are plenty of bottle shops within 1km of home in every direction, so I thought I’d be able to get hold of something suitable. However, it appears that zero alcohol beer is as rare as rocking horse poo in this part of the world. The wine varietals are better served, but having tried one that cost $15, so apparently a better class of vino-replacement, I was not convinced by its character: the aroma of newly picked grapes evolved rather dramatically into the sharp rasp of vinegar. The sensation was akin to jumping on a bouncy castle at a kids party, then suddenly falling off a cliff. Not something I would recommend.

A case of the Beck’s Blues

I googled Becks Blue and found I needed to drive across the metropolis to find a retailer that stocked low alcohol beer. I found myself in an outlet the size of a respectable supermarket, but dedicated to drink, and the zero alcohol offering was about 1/4 of one rack of shelves. None in the fridge. Oh, and Beck’s Blue is out of stock. Nationwide. I bought a couple of 6 packs of German imports to try (I didn’t see a locally brewed alternative) – both priced exorbitantly – and found both of them were acceptable. I particularly like the Bitburger Drive. It’s a taste that takes me straight back to Germany, and as I was 19 when I lived there, what’s not to like. “Bitte ein Bit'”.

Teenage Mutiny

Amidst the sobriety, we’ve also been on the case of solving – well, at least understanding – Herbert’s anxiety. Having seen a couple of specialists, there was some interest in his inability to organise his life. His anxiety spiked when he’d left himself one evening to do an entire assignment that required about 6 weeks work. Who’d have thought that would be a problem? So, it’s now official, we have a diagnosis! And the verdict is that it is not some underlying attention deficit issue, he’s simply ignoring us… It is a case of teenage mutiny.

So the hunt for a cause continues.

Mood Food

With the help of Ali at Apple to Zucchini, we’re testing the link between food and mood. I can’t recommend taking your teenage son to talk to a dietitian enough, particularly if they need some payback for heinous cheek or abject laziness in recent weeks. Why? For the joy of watching him squirm when he has to discuss how regularly he poos as part of the consultation. As a parent it’s important to balance the moments of proud parenting that you can shout about on instagram with the quietly satisfying smug moments that need no further broadcast. (Unless you happen to have a blog read by your mum and the cat).

I guess Herbert has had the last laugh, though. My disinterest in the kitchen has been inherited, so he doesn’t feel that any of this improving his diet is any of his responsibility. (Is it just our house where the need for self-determination oscillates depending on the task in hand? How much time to play computer games? At 15, he is totally mature enough to make his own decisions. Cook food? He’s a child and it is utterly outrageous, bordering on neglect, to expect him to have to fend for himself).

Now I know you’re thinking I should just fight that battle.

But I am somewhat battle fatigued.

Plus, the novelty of trying to find healthy food that he might be prepared to pack and eat in front of his friends has piqued my interest.

I might also have more energy as a result of no longer being hungover each morning of a weekend. (I have discovered there is so much more time available on Saturdays and Sundays – it’s a revelation!) And I seem better able to concentrate on the instructions, too, so my success rate at creating edible morsels, rather than burnt cinders, is 1000% better.

Avoiding Teenage Mutiny over Lunchbox Contents

So here are some of the things that I have produced in the last couple of weeks on the occasions that I have kitchened. #proud #actuallyadulting #lessdelinquentparenting

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Herbert was slightly abashed after talking to Ali. Not just because he’d had to discuss poo. But also because reciting what he eats for breakfast, morning tea and lunch were identified as being somewhat nutritionally lacking. Breakfast, consisting of commercial breakfast cereals, were deemed dessert choices. (He loves Milo cereals and Coco Pops and other sugar laden delights – and sugar is not anxiety friendly). Then, his choices at school were basically devoid of nutrients. We have a daily battle (if I have time to remember to notice that he hasn’t made himself some sandwiches) over making sandwiches. He hopes I won’t notice, in which case he just raids the school tuck shop for high-fat taste sensations. If I do notice, he makes the sandwiches, and on most occasions leaves them in the bottom of his bag, and raids the school tuck shop for high-fat taste sensations…

Of course, the other challenge is finding “healthy” food that looks innocuous enough to still be cool. Passing the friends test and fitting in is more important than any nutrient count or benefits that might accrue. As any parent of teenagers will know.

Homelife Crisis

So having managed to get organised in the kitchen for the first time ever, I have managed to wreak chaos in my working life. Tomorrow I fly to Perth for a couple of days. Problem, you say? It is if you live in Queensland, and it’s actually a public holiday… GRRRRR.

So Australia, I have two small requests:

Please could you sort your act out with no-alcohol beer and stock it more accessibly

And harmonise your sodding public holidays!

Is it really so hard for everyone to have time off at the same time??? Really??? I have a Herbert to wrangle. It’s enough already.

So, with that, I will sign off and go and pack my suitcase. I will be leaving the Grumpster in charge of dictating a nutrient-rich lunch time experience for the next couple of days. 😀 😀 😀

  *The recipes for the little bites of heaven are courtesy of Apple to Zucchini, Dietitian Approved and Lola Berry. Not pictured is some frozen water melon and some frozen watermelon blitzed with grapes (he doesn’t like grapes!) and frozen to pop in smoothies.

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Teenage mutiny; still no turtling The Sober Diaries The timing of going sober was always going to be questionable, considering I share a house with a teenager.

[tube-thoughts-blog]

tube thoughts vol. 5

zero stars - terrible, 1/2 a star- dull, 1 star - folly, 1 1/2 stars - lacking, 2 stars - fair, 2 1/2 stars - decent, 3 stars - terrific

Hanna-Barbera present Hillbilly Bears - "Woodpecked" *To stop Maw from nagging his lazy ass, Paw hatches a plan that involves hooking two woodpeckers up, only it backfires, when their screwing reproduces.* 3 stars

Mystery Science Theater 3000: "The Robot versus The Aztec Mummy" *Bring me the head of Montezuma, and make it snappy. MOOVVIIEE SIGGGGNNNNN!* 2 1/2 stars with riffing 2 stars without

Scare Tactics: ---- *Gorilla with a Fist: A slacker goes apeshit during an animal rights activist holdup at a crazy testing lab.* 2 1/2 stars

Anger Mis-Management: Aggression therapy gone wrong.* 2 stars

Fear Antics - The Mandroid: An idiot is convinced to act like a robot and wishes he hadn't when a slow thinking human goes crazy with a crowbar.* 3 stars

World's Scariest Flowers/Smell of Fear: A stalker's special delivery.* 3 stars

----

I'm Alan Partridge: The Talented Mr. Alan *"I was repellant, to women, for two years."* 3 stars

The Prisoner -- 1967 - 1968 -- "Arrival" *A Brit spy awakens in a sickly serene and isolated village from which there is no escape or cerebral evasion.* 3 stars

Shock 'Em Dead (Traci Lords) *A pizza slicin', and always being picked on, poindexter succumbs to the temptation of glowing green goo voodoo in order to become a 'rock god' in a prissy 80's hair-band.* 2 stars

Freddy's Nightmares: Judy Miller Come On Down *A bitchy yuppy's boulevard of boring dreams.* 1/2 a star *Gameshow good fortune forces a 'days of future past' visitation experience.*      2 1/2 stars

Rifftrax presents J.J. Ambrams "Lost" (pilot episode) *"When in danger, when in doubt, run in circles, scream and shout."* 3 plus stars with riffing 3 stars without, and zero stars for the vomit vision use of shaking camera

Hanna-Barbera present Jonny Quest: Arctic Splashdown *The team travel to the North Pole to play around with whales, seals, walruses, and the coca cola polar bears. They also try to stop a Ruskie submarine crew from tampering with a crashed, in the ice, rocket.* 3 stars

"Dawn of the Planet of the Apes" *I was a stubborn human, refusing to give "Rise" a fair chance. I wanted humans, in ape costumes, acting ape. "Dawn" is smarter, and more well made, than any modern "Apes" movie has any right to be. Also, the scene where the villain ape rides horseback, through flames, firing twin machine-guns, during an all out ape-assault, on the human stronghold fortress is the most fun, and satisfying, thing that I've seen, in one of these "Apes" movies, since I first witnessed apes, on horseback, net a fleeing savage-human in the Charlton Heston' "Apes" classic.* 3 stars

Stargate -- Atlantis: "Rising" *Cracking through the ice to find the ancient city of the 'Gate Builders.' Genetically dialing into the unknown. Angels with ugly appetites.* 3 stars

Z Nation: Die, Zombie, Die... Again *Zombie Groundhog Day* 1 star

The Mothman Prophecies *An "It's A Wonderful Life" George Bailey type sad-sack goes chasing a shadowy figure through his own personal Unsolved Mysteries story.* 3 stars

Rifftrax presents "Paranormal Activity" 2007 *Uninspired. for the immature,'shock' end similar to those trick internet videos where a Linda Blair face pops up and screeches when you're staring at something bland for a while.so uncreative that it's more of a threat to the art of filmmaking than digital piracy.* 1 1/2 stars with riffing 1/2 a star without

Swamp Thing: Spirit of the Swamp *Green thumb for a black rose.* 2 1/2 stars

Thundarr, the Barbarian: Challenge of the Wizards *A wacky race, on horseback and roadwarrior vehicles, through a destroyed sin city, for the prize of the ultimate wizard's helmet.* 2 1/2 stars

American Horror Story -- Freakshow: "Pink Cupcakes" *Small screen jealousy. Picnic poisoning attempt. Girl with a goober gynecological visit. Gay bar American Psycho. Strongman finger torture. Missing maid's daughter. Lobster Boy looking for true love. Morbidity fame dreams. More David Bowie.* 3 stars

Bob Clampett's "Beany and Cecil" 1962 *"Your obedient serpent" a cartoon dragon handpuppet searches for a treasure in goldfish, solves an illegal eagle's bald shame, and screws up looking after the taco bell dog. Complete with commercials for Chatty Cathy, Matty Mattel, and Casper dolls, along with a Beany toy helicopter hat, plus the kid from 'Lost in Space' gets his own Dick Tracy official snub-nose revolver and tommy-gun (so realistic, modern parents' groups would be up in arms, ha.)* 3 stars

Silent Hill: Revelation *Ned Stark, and his bastard, try to protect Alice from underland. Flawed, but a better frightmare than its cousin series, Resident Evil.* 2 stars

Dr. Caligari 1989 *New-Wave Psycho-Sexual DADA Expressionism* 3 stars

Max Headroom --pilot episode-- "Blipverts" *Network 23's hotshot reporter is serious about getting a story, even if the higher ups are willing to snuff him out to stop it. That story being that subliminal sales messages cause slovenly viewers to suddenly 'splode.* 3 stars

Mystery Science Theater 3000: "Mad Monster" *Long in the tooth, and low on thrills, tale of a lobo named Petro.* 2 stars with riffing 1 1/2 without

Amityville 2: The Possession *Building on burial ground. Basement from hell. Blasphemy. Bad ideas coming from the voice in the headphones. Big, mean daddy. Bad parenting. Beating the kids. Blessing a bloody bed. Bellybutton penetration. Body horror. Bad touch with sister. Blue confession. Black mood birthday. Bullets for loved ones. Batshit defense in court. Bureaucracy of the church. Boy saved by sacrifice. Being forsaken.* 3 stars

Heart She Hollers: And So It Begends *The "Boss" of a grotesque backwoods town tries to continue to micro-manage from beyond via a surreal video-will and his idiot son that he kept secretly bricked up until now.* 2 1/2 stars

"Born Innocent" (Linda Blair) *Cold, mechanical 'justice' for juveniles. Few caring influences. Peers that are jealous hurtful monsters. Disinterested or damaging parental figures. Yearning and underdeveloped 'wards' of whoever is forced to deal with them, and it's unfortunately a system drained of any constructive compassion or intelligent humanity.* 3 stars

Town of the Living Dead: *Zombie Baby: The crew think they have a great idea, a zombie baby (rolls eyes). And they keep screwing up the gross birth scene and nervous kiss scene.* 1 star *Stunt-Double: The chubby mama's boy can't be thrown out of a window, so... a black guy has to take the plunge, instead.* 1 star

The Walking Dead: Self Help *Abraham scares people. He scares his family into fleeing from him, in a flashback, resulting in their deaths. He's about to commit suicide when he meets Eugene and finds his new purpose in life. Eugene needs to watch Abraham and Rosita have sex. He also needs people to believe he's smart. It's been tearing at him and he must confess his dark secret, but this might tear Abraham, and everyone else in the group, apart.* 3 stars

Hill Street Blues --pilot episode-- "Station" *Happy go lucky until it gets heavy and hits with a hard left hook.* 3 stars

Joe Bob's Drive-In: The New Kids *Two orphaned army brats go to live at their uncle's rundown carnival/petting zoo in backwoods Florida where a gang of good ole boys (lead by a creepy James Spader), who won't take no for an answer, decide to make their lives a living hell. Hicksploitation from the creator of the original Friday the 13th.*3stars

William Friedkin's "The Guardian" *A wood nymph (is that what she is?) who frolics & forest bathes nude. A killer tree, like  from Evil Dead, that rips people apart. Fairytale like wolves devouring human flesh. Nice modern architectured home. Beautiful wind cinematography like an Andrei Tarkovsky film. Skinemax levels of eroticism. Hansel & Gretel. Hand That Rocked the Cradle. Jeep Wrangler to the rescue. A little ham-fisted. Fun gore fx.* 2 1/2 stars

Kolchak, the Night Stalker: Legacy of Terror *For a year, Erik Estrada's character, PEPE, gets to hangout in a high-end hotel, play a flute, and be pawed over by beautiful blondes. That is if he willingly sacrifices his heart to an Aztec mummy. The fifth sacrifice in an every fifty two year ritual where the heroic are skewered so the blood god will someday rise again.* 2 1/2 stars

Sam Raimi's "Darkman" *Liam Neeson channels Lon Chaney & Boris Karloff doing Tex Avery & Chuck Jones cartoon  stunts meets a macabre moody Bruce Timm & Paul Dini cartoon story in one of the first truly good comic style movies.* 3 stars

The Outer Limits: Corner of the Eye *A dying priest, suffering from demonic visions, is all out of bubblegum, and patience, with his alien overlords, even though they've given him a seemingly miraculous gift.* 2 1/2 stars

Rifftrax presents: The Bermuda Triangle -1978- *"Annoying sounds and boring repeatitive visuals, Bermuda Triangle, you spoil me."*  3 stars with riffing 1 1/2 stars without

Adult Swim, Newsreaders: *Motorboating Dads: Bros give parental advice for sons.* 2 stars *The Negative $100,000 Question: Smug,unfunny Children's Hospital"celebrity."* zero stars

The Simpsons: Itchy & Scratchy *"So television is responsible!" For the problems with the youth, today, that is. Ahead of its time in pointing out how media protests groups are misguided, could be making better use of their time, and hypocritical. Though it doesn't go easy on the media, either, which is why shows like Simpsons & South Park can be such good satires.* 3 stars

"Wavelength" 1983 *Sublime, stranded and subdued Navi 'children' send out strong signals that they'd like to  unobtain our stringent hospitality in this low fi sci fi forgotten classic.* 3 stars

Town of the Living Dead: Zombie Fun Run *The town asses (Thr33 Days Dead) organize a run-from-zombies-a-thon, and the town's assclown (Ben Farley) causes one of the town's jackass mascots (a mule statue) to get ran over, leading to the town's asshole authorities going out and catching Thr33 Days Dead with their pants down and their ass hanging out when they ask them to stop being a zombie pain in the ass all over town and ban them from filming in Jas(s)per.* 2 stars

Twin Peaks: The Path to the Black Lodge *"We are all God's fools, more or less, but you will learn, as I have, the value of hate."* 3 stars

Joseph Zito & Tom Savini present "The Prowler" 1981  --Veteran's Day Movie-- *I'll be seeing you in all the old, familiar places that this heart of mine embraces... I'll be looking at the moon, but I'll be slashing you... and pitchforking too...* 3 stars

Chuck Jones' "Yankee Doodle Cricket" *Call it macaroni* 2 1/2 stars

Sam Peckinpah's "The Osterman Weekend" *A cynical, Cold War, conniving version of 'The Big Chill.'* 3 stars

"Thr33 Days Dead" (Why not two e letters instead of two of the number 3? It doesn't look 'cool' and it becomes possible to mistake the title for a 'The 33 Days Dead,' at a glance.) *Plague of the 'People of Walmart'* 2 1/2 stars (It's more entertaining than Birdemic) or 1 1/2 stars (It's almost as poorly made as Birdemic) ---(((this movie is just asking to be riffed by rifftrax)))---

Scare Tactics------------ season 2 episode 6 *: A plumber's helper stumbles onto (Silence of the Lamb's) Buffalo Bill's messy bathroom secret.* 3 stars

*: "Are you kidding me, bro?... WTF, bro?..." Late night, middle of nowhere, construction site, strange cult terrorizing a bro scenario.* 2 1/2 stars

*: "You got me trippin'... I watch 'shit' on t.v." A goofy girl gets going- going- gone, when Mummyhotep begins to step.* 2 1/2 stars

*: A telekinetic tween's tantrum.* 2 stars

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

X Files ---pilot episode--- *A logical, lady FBI agent gets assigned to keep tabs on the guy, in the basement, lurking in the unexplained phenomena cases.* 3 stars

Bizarre Foods -- Ireland: Ancient Bog Butter *Waxing poetic over 3,000 year old marsh gunk.* 2 1/2 stars

A Return to Salem's Lot --1987-- *Diverges, almost entirely, from the mood and suspense of Tobe Hooper's Salem's Lot. I don't even see this as being the same Salem's Lot setting as that first tv movie. That one was quirky, to an extent, but this one is really quirky. It's a Larry Cohen style (It Lives & The Stuff) 'American Gothic' fatherhood/son struggle and a secret society / corrupt small town stake to the heart of a movie. Featuring a young Tara Reid as a Lucy Westerena type, an old bitter Jewish man as a nazi hunter turned Van Helsing, and a cultural anthropologist who ironically has to try to destroy one of the oldest fabled civilizations.* I give it between 2 1/2 and 3 stars

Swamp Thing: Blood Wind *A mason jar filled with murderous moonshine mist that puts everyone in a killer rage. Mr.Butterfingers, Swamp Thing, accidentally lets the lid off of it to hilarious results. The craziest, best episode yet.* 3 stars

Farscape: DNA Mad Scientist *On a rock, covered with giant dinosaur bones, floating in a cold corner of space, a grotesque menagerie of lab workers now serve one of their experiments gone wrong. A stilt stepping, kinky outfit wearing, feline-esque Dr. Frankenstein seeks out all the best traits of every living creature, in the known universe, in order to further advance its own twisted evolution.* 3 stars

BBC All Watched Over By Machines of Loving Grace: Love and Power *The speculative power of computer systems versus the supreme success of global forces  like the Chinese. The desires of self superior people like Ayn Rand versus the so called weak and in need. Also, for some reason, a lot of looking back at Monica Lewinsky on her knees.* 2 1/2 stars

American Horror Story -- Asylum -- "Welcome to Briarcliff" *There are none so blind as those who will not willingly receive electroshock treatment and give morning confessional.* 2 1/2 stars

Bob & Margaret: A Tale of Two Dentists *Neglecting needs of his customers and wife leads to Bob losing them both, and both being  diddled by a bogus dentist & real looney known by the alias Harry Ramsbottom.* 3 stars

I'm Alan Partridge: "The Colour of Alan" *"I am happy. That may vwwewy wewwl be because I'm on morphine."* 3 stars

Paranormal State: Season 1 Episode 5 *A shaken teen girl, from Sin City, is seeing the scarred and strangled spirit, of a San Antonio teen girl, who died around the same age as she is during the paranormal state investigation of the situation.* 2 1/2 stars

Stephen King's 'Kingdom Hospital' season 1 episode 2 *"Inside the skull is another universe. The strangest, scariest haunted house of them all." Or in Lars Von Trier's and Stephen King's cases, a silly sausage factory featuring surgeons with unzipped flys, creepy ice cream man demons, aardvark assassins, and candle light dinners in the morgue.* 3 stars

--- Hanna-Barbera --- Hillbilly Bears: "Modern Inconvenience" *Paw gets mangled by Maw's flirtation with the new-fangled.* 3 stars

Thundarr, the Barbarian: Valley of the Man-Apes *To protect the village of the Lollipop Guild, a group of stinky simians must be stopped from reassembling an abandoned movie studio's animatronic King Kong.* 3 stars

Joe Bob's 'Drive-In Theater' presents "The First Power" *Another dime-a-dozen body hopping demonic serial killer thriller. Lou Diamond Phillips' idea of playing a hardboiled detective is to pass an unlit cigarette between his lips and his fingers, constantly, and to wear a heavy, black trenchcoat, during the heat of the day, in downtown Los Angeles. The Richard Ramirez type, "Pentagram Killer," has satanic powers of a super human variety. Also, a lot of side characters' stunt doubles doing unintentionally comedic acrobatics and kicks to the groin.* 2 stars

Mystery Science Theater 3000: Women of the Prehistoric Planet *Time paradoxes. Stereotype sneaky "Japs." Toasted thunder-lizard. Rubber snake attack. Tropical set design studio setting. Rodney Dangerfield wannabe comic relief. Death by "plush toy" hopping spider on a wire. A boy, 'all alone,' named Tang. Blue Lagoon romance picnic. Red hiney monkey. Racist astronaut shoots the first minority he sees. Feel good ending where the two minority lovebirds are abandoned, by the spaceship, on a paradise planet, with an extremely active volcano and killer cavemen.* 2 1/2 stars with riffing 1 star w/out

Hanna-Barbera -- Jonny Quest: The Curse of Anubis *Hadji's Hindu whack a mole magic, flute serpent charming, and Jonny's motorscooter camel-jockey skills help stop a doomed thief from uniting the Arab world against the West via insinuation involving iconography and superstition.* 3 stars

Sam Raimi's "The Quick and the Dead" *Vengeance is mine, said the Lady to the Lord. A Sharon Stone western shouldn't work, but it does.* 3 stars

Space Rage: Breakout on Prison Planet --1985-- *There aren't any spaceships firing at each other in asteroid storms, though there is a arcade asteroids machine in a bar. This is a space frontier, corrupt penal/mining colony western. There are no laser blasters, only traditional western handguns, shotguns, and rifles. Replacing spaceships are dunebuggies. Replacing an otherworldly planet is the California desert. There's a great, constantly playing, punk-western soundtrack, and Richard Farnsworth, Michael Pare, and John Laughlin are badass as usual.* 2 1/2 stars

Cowboy Bebop: Sympathy for the Devil *Harmonica playing, mystical gem having, ageless child of evil -who needs to be and deep down wants to be put at rest.* 3 stars

Transformers: Fire in the Sky *Christmas/New-Ice-Age in July, when the Decepticon grinches try to turn the earth's core into a cold day in hell. Luckily for earth and the Autobots, an unfrozen, gigantic robot makes the right decision and sacrifices itself for its love of science and all creatures, including humanity.* 3 stars

South Park: The Magic Bush *"Jennifer Lawrence's butthole didn't take a picture of itself."* 2 1/2 stars

Comic Book Men: Brony Con *Grumpy forty-something comic nerds attempt a Vaudeville two-man horse act at a convention for twenty-something male hipster fans of a little girls' pony cartoon.* 2 stars

Adult Swim ==off-the-air== "Seramthgin" *Nightmarishly surreal art video garbage played, mostly, in reverse.* 2 1/2 stars

Z Nation: Going Nuclear *Citizen Z's paddle ball dexterity. Mt. Rushmore defaced. Glow in the dark zombies. Stealth until a zombie alert fart. Radiation sickness. Stopping a nuclear meltdown in the Black Hills. Twirling, Donatello-esque ninja staff that's actually a really long handled hoe. Hazmat suits & ammo. Radio controlled drone robot named Robbie who has a lazer cutter for mowing down zombies. Fueling up on vodka. Fleeing from fallout in a small aircraft and of course crashing. Citizen Z 'checks' zombiepedia (lame joke.) Zombie sign language? Murphy wearing a little girls' pink & cute spikes backpack. Zombie puppy love. What really is mercy?* 3 stars

--- Paul W.S. Anderson's "Soldier" starring Kurt Russell

*Thematically like Stallone's 'First Blood' mixed with Terminator 2 and other outerspace and post-apocalyptic genre movies.

Finger painted in the most broad, obvious, hack ways possible.

Supersoldier has never seen a pretty lady, so he daydreams about the one time he saw her nipples under her shirt.

Supersoldier is suffering ptsd, so he freaks out over Santa at Christmas party.

Supersoldier doesn't know how to deal with kids, so he tries to teach a kid to bash a poisonous snake's brains out.

Supersoldier is feeling sad for the very first time, so we zoom in close up on a tear streaming down his face.

Supersoldiers need to be tested, American Gladiator competition is orchestrated.

Married couple is getting romantic on a planet with limited supplies and garbage everywhere, hundreds of lit candles love scene.

Thin mustached military commander villain's gotcha moment is pissing down his pants leg in fear...*

1 1/2 stars

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

Monstervision with Joe Bob Briggs "The Stepfather" *There were no real Freddy Kruegers running around in suburbia, in the 80s, but there were actually psychos like this. A Fox News fan type dad is a little too into 50s era family "perfection," and when things don't go his way, he heads down to the basement to beat on his workbench with a hammer, and when he can't take it anymore, he heads upstairs and bangs on the family with the hammer. When he's done there, he catfishes the "perfect" next family.* 3 stars

Friday the 13th, the series: Cupid's Quiver *When you're skeezy, it's love made easy. The poor, wretched bastard, in this one, oozes, and then drips desperation from his every pore.* 3 stars

ABC's Selfie: A Little Yelp From My Friends *I expected this to be another obnoxious sitcom like Big Bang Theory or 2 Broke Girls, but it's more like Ally McBeal. A real bait and switch. The topic as it has been thrown out there in the media would make one think it would be about a total social media whore with constant references to current social pop culture, but it's really more of a show about a pathetic weirdo and her bizarre, unsocial behavior, and the one genuine person (Harold from Harold & Kumar) who actually cares about helping her cross that bridge back into the real world.* 2 1/2 stars

E! Total Divas: The Double Cross *One diva trades her vibrator for a date with an NFL hunk. Another diva gets jealous when her man's (pro wrestler John Cena) ass is going to be shown in a movie love scene. Also, at a movie premier for a comedy flick, starring the twin divas, the big muscled pro-wrestler puts on a blue monkey suit, and the butt and breast implant diva, along with her man, sit stoned-faced during a supposedly funny scene. Odd and insipid reality show trash.* zero stars

MTV's True Life: I Have A Strange Phobia *One Italian-American young man can't even pee in a public restroom. He has to get in his car, get on the freeway, and drive all the way home and scrub the toilet with cleaner and antibacterial products before the act. (Why not pee outside, in public, behind a dumpster or building or car? It's not really polite behavior, but it would save the trouble of going home and cleaning. And, why not just aim really well when you pee at  home or not care if you pee on the seat?) The next, unfortunate, case is about a young woman who is deathly afraid of pigeons. I think there's some other attention issues there, or maybe a bit of deceit going on where the girl just wanted to get on MTV.* 2 stars

American Horror Story -- Murder House -- "Murder House" *As much a love letter to true crime history of Los Angeles as it is a ghost story. And the haunted people and haunts themselves have more personality and poignancy than most ghost stories.* 3 stars

The Outer Limits: Under the Bed *A child psychologist struggles with a cryptozoology related child abduction.* 2 1/2 stars

The Walking Dead: Consumed *Getting the drop on crash test dummies.* 3 stars

Adult Swim --fake infomercials-- "Smart Pipe" *Taking smartphone app use to its inevitable pinnacle by having the waste management of the world's pipes turned into an opportunity to scan shit and then use that information to in turn sale more shit to the masses.* 3 stars

Squidbillies: Sheriff-in-Law *Daddy don't come around here anymore, and we're all glad he doesn't.*3 stars

MTV's "Slednecks" episode b (b because the "writers" were lazy) *Bros go Go-Go dancing. 4 wheel drive pickup truck versus airboat in a tug o war match. Drunk skanks pissing in the snow. Feeding buttered toast to the wildlife. Tundra wookies at tha club. You know, typical Alaska stuff. Saddening that this kind of stupidity is going on in one of the last frontiers. I've never more wanted a moose to kill someone since back in the day when Fox would air those 'When Animals Attack' videos.* zero stars

American Horror Story: Freakshow -- "Bullseye" *Desert butterflies* 2 1/2 stars

Game of Thrones --Season 3-- Episode 2-- *Lions, piggies, crows, wolves, and a hound.* 3 stars

USA network's --Chrisley Knows Best-- "Jugs and Ammo" *Boob cake for 100 dollars. Boob job for your daughter 30,000 dollars. Protecting your sixteen year old beauty pageant girl's "vag of honor" untold dollars. Making  your redneck son-in-law uncomfortable because he thinks that you're a closet homosexual is priceless.* either zero stars or 2 1/2 stars

Animal Planet's --Finding Bigfoot-- "Turtleman's Bigfoot" *for some unknown reason, MSNBC's Rachel Maddow and 30 Rock's "Bobo" travel to Kentucky to holler hunt a primate with Jim Varney's nephew Ernie the "Turtle Man."* 2 stars

rifftrax presents The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers *Boil 'em, mash 'em, stick 'em in a stew. Boil 'em, mash 'em, stick 'em in a stew. Boil 'em, mash 'em, stick 'em in a stew.* 3 plus stars with riffing 3 stars without

Adult Swim -- "Too Many Cooks" *Never ending 80s tv theme song intro video parody turned massacre.* 3 stars

Kolchak, the Night Stalker: The Knightly Murders *Balefully back, from the Black Ages, with a big axe to grind.* 2 1/2 stars

Gargoyles: Temptation *Goliath's former piece-of-tail tries to put him back under her spell.* 3 stars

Stargate --Atlantis-- "Hide and Seek" *You're not yourself when you're hungry, or an energy entity. Eat a Snickers, and be like Doug Flutie.* 2 1/2 stars

"The Babadook" *Illustrating one's insecurities into isolation, insomnia, and insanity.* 3 stars

Freddy's Nightmares: Saturday Night Special *Yuppy dating schemes and dreams come apart at the seams.* 1 1/2 stars *Springwood beautification project leaves a plain jane feeling numb.* 2 stars

South Park: Freemium isn't Free *Temptation. Addiction. Boring Gaming. Gambling. Micro-Transactions. Trendy drinking. Denial drinking. Pussy advertising. The Prince of Canada. The Canadian Devil.* 2 stars

Tales from the Crypt: Loved to Death *More than a minute of seeing man-sized-shaped Mariel Hemingway in lingerie is like an eternity in hell.* 3 stars

Joe Bob's Drive-In presents "Night Angel" *So bad it's good, succubus-slasher softcore-skinemax-style flick.* 1 1/2 stars

Hillbilly Bears: Courtin' Disaster *Haltin' hatin' the Hoppers, like they's was Hatfields, in hopes of havin' Hottiebear hitched.* 3 stars

Scare Tactics --Season 2-- episode 7 *Meat locker scab wishes he hadn't swept the salt off the floor after he meets the one armed mangler who had the job before.* 2 stars *"Pretty big, probably around 5 foot 9 or 6 foot 2" webcam show babehouse psycho slasher that ruins a horny, dumb guy's first night on the peep job.* 3-stars *Digging a hole, in the desert, for a lazy mobster.* 2 stars *Poltergeist -heather o'rourke- style closet scare* 2 1/2 stars

Paranormal State season 1 episode 6 *This haunted place is for the dogs...* 3 stars

"Intruders" CBS 1992 *Abductee: I was taken aboard a spaceship, by little grey men, and experimented on. / Psychologist: No, you were molested, in a barn, by your cousin.* 3 stars

American Horror Story -- Freakshow -- "Test of Strength" *"Come as you are" as ruined by the folks from GLEE. Strong Man vs. Amazon Lady. You're my dad, dad. Earl (Dell) had to die - Carnival Dixie Chix. Two-Headed blackmail. Dreadful Penny. Penny's dreadful dad. Tattoo nightmare. Dandy not feeling dandy.  Surgeon suicide. Blonde ambition makeover.* 2 stars

Mystery Science Theater 3000: The Crawling Hand *"Eat, drink, and be merry. Tomorrow, you die." Then, it's all fingerwalking on the darkside, you dig?* 3 stars with riffing 2 1/2 stars without

Jonny Quest: Pursuit of the Po-Ho *Lost tribe lunar sacrifice lunacy.* 3 stars

Swamp Thing: Grotesquery *A case of toxic swamp ass lands ST in a two-bit big top, where it's all soggy tater chips and being caged while being poked with a stick with the rest of the misbegotten misfits.* 2 stars

"The Shuttered Room" 1967 *Hostile Arkham homecoming. Where the isolated islanders hold strong to ignorant superstition, when they're not trying to tear someone to shreds.* 3 stars

Z Nation: Sisters of Mercy *Survivors of a Utah Mormon "sisters wives" style society form a militant lesbian ladies only cult. No "Ah, not the bees!" moment or bearsuit disguise, but similar to Nic Cage's predicament. Story focuses on the two least interesting characters, the crazy redhead chick and her wannabe boyfriend, and not enough Murphy moments, though his getting "pie" scene is hilarious. False advertisement with the unfortunately underused zombie bear. I was hoping that it would maul the Sisters of Mercy.* 2 stars

Phantasm 3: Lord of the Dead *A Home Alone orphan vigilante brat and a Grace Jones / Pam Grier -esque kung fu sista join Reggie to fight Return of the Living Dead style zombies with attitude. The actors playing Mike & Jody almost seem out of place in their own series, but Reggie excels in a more Sam Raimi plus Bruce Campbell horror-comedy environment. I think I figured out who the Tall Man is supposed to represent, Sam Walton, the founder of WalMart.* 2 1/2 stars

Thundarr, the Barbarian: Stalker from the Stars *It twas a simple sinus sniffle twitch kill't the strigoli at that snowy eskimo carnival.* 3 stars

Cowboy Bebop: Heavy Metal Queen *ride the lightning and chase the thunder with a prairie oyster.* 3 stars

The Prisoner: The Chimes of Big Ben *There's not enough hours in the day to sail away. So, pick up a required hobby.* 3 stars

Max Headroom: Rakers *Taking a stand against mindless television violence with a sport of "refined aggression." Risking everything professionally for a personal bond of obligation with an estranged and wreckless loved one.* 2 1/2 stars

Larry Cohen's "The Ambulance" 1990 starring Eric Roberts *A sinister old school style ambulance stalks the streets of NYC picking up sick people and then not taking them to the hospital but instead to an insane doctor who experiments on them and sells them to shady medical labs. Spooky.* between 2 1/2 and 3 stars

Adult Swim's "Sit Down and Shut Up" --pilot episode-- *animated with the whimsy of nickelodeon or cartoon network kids cartoons but with the right amount of offensive humor for the slacker 3am audience.* 2 stars

SyFy's "Ascension" --preview-- 'Building the World' *Nice to see SyFy actually spending some money on a show's elaborate production.* 3 stars

CMT's "Redneck Island" Dec 2014 -season preview-

with host "Stone Cold" Steve Austin *"I wouldn't even introduce you to my dawg! MY DAWG, YA HEAR!"* 1 star

Hill Street Blues: Presidential Fever *A matter of pride. Two partners struggle with the distance between each other after being shot on duty. An undercover gets 'ruff' with rape suspects. Lady attorney holds her own with police chief lover. Gangleaders precinct meeting to hold a truce during Presidential visit. NYPD Blue's David Caruso as a top-hat wearing Irish gangbanger. Hick cop hassles the wrong barrio & almost goes vigilante to heal a wounded ego.* 3 stars

"Open House" 1987 starring Adrienne Barbeau *John Tesh is trying to reason with a rabid dog when Charles Bronson walks up and shoots it between the ears. Los Angeles, the land of broken dreams. there's only so many options for the down on their luck to vent. one is to call in crazy to the talk radio stations. another is to act like an obnoxious slob. then, there's the nutbags who'd like to find absurdly creative ways to kill the chippy sales people of that broken dream.* 3 stars

Mystery Science Theater 3000: The Crawling Eye *Slight fever in the Swiss Alps, with cyclops brainball tentacle aliens who like things frigid and hate telepaths.* 1 1/2 stars with riffing 1 star without

X Files: Deep Throat *Aim high, in the Air Force, and be an alien spacecraft test pilot. Side effects may not be worth it. It's 2 the xtreme, says 90s stoner, Seth Green.* 3 stars

The Outer Limits: Dark Matters *Melodramatic ghost brother space catastrophe* 2 stars

Michael Crichton's "Runaway" 1984 starring Tom Selleck *Jargon, jargon, household robots gone haywire. Jargon, jargon, science dept. mustache cop. Jargon, jargon, spider assassin robots. Jargon, jargon, Gene Simmons techno-terrorist. Jargon, jargon, magic heat-seeking bullets. Jargon, jargon, vertigo-tinged thriller climax.* 2 1/2 stars

Joe Bob's Drive In Theater presents "Steel and Lace" *Willard's Bruce Davison creates a cyborg out of his sister, Shannon Tweed (Gene Simmons' long-time girlfriend), years after her suicide resulting from a non-conviction for a group of corporate buddies who raped her in an alley. The sexy cyborg seduces then performs gruesome fatalities on the slimeballs.*  stars 2 1/2

Freddy's Nightmares: Sister's Keeper *Freddy turns the twin daughters, of the cop who was a thorn in his side in life, against each other.* 2 stars *Freddy is determined to make one of the twins an only child.* 2 1/2 stars

Hammer Films' "Vampire Circus" 1972 *A morose quarantine livened with a sanguinary shadow puppet sex show.*  stars 3

American Horror Story -Asylum- "Tricks and Treats" *Sticky caramel on the mossy banks of a Stygian river.* 3 stars

I'm Alan Partridge: Brave Alan *"The worth of boast worlds."* 3 stars

Bob and Margaret: A Night In *Boring and barren, but better off than the dead.* 2 1/2 stars

All Watched Over By Machines of Loving Grace: The Use and Abuse of Vegetational Concepts *make like a tree and be a leaf / a cog in the machine or don't because it's a false belief.* 3 stars

"Dreamscape" 1984 *David Patrick Kelly is a creepier dream demon than Robert Englund.* 3 stars

South Park: Grounded Vindaloop *The boys try to figure out which one of them is actually stuck in virtual reality limbo. Real world Butters is cutely portrayed.* 3 stars

Squidbillies: Hybrid to Hell *"Hawt Rawkin' Santy Claus in a bubble globe."* 2 1/2 stars

Swamp Thing: Natural Enemy *ST beats science to the punch, when he swats and splats Beelzebub.* 2 stars

--- Scare Tactics -season 2 -episode 9

*Party van fails to take police warning and runs into vampire bikers on a desert highway.* 3 stars

*Hysterical hissie over a hybrid dwarf-critter.* 3 stars

*"You ever step on a landmine, before?" nervous and shaken response "Nah, I'm from Cleveland." 2 1/2 stars

*The show's new host, a Baldwin brother, is traumatized when he's not recognized after shedding the disguise of a scary mob boss.*

1 1/2 stars

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Paranormal State -season 1 -episode 7 *A cemetery caretaker stews and his wife claims to suffer after sticking in a hole, and covering with cement, an urn of unclaimed cremated remains that had sat on their shelf for years.* 2 stars

Insidious: Chapter 2 *That's not my husband. That's the spirit of a crossdressing serial killer. Again with the Ed Gein/Norman Bates mommy issues killer and somehow crossed with the crazy killer dad -like the Shining. Also, I could do without the lame antics and shaking camera  ghosthunting of the two paranormal hipster nerds. Still, I very much enjoy the eerie astral projection limbo world.* between 2 and 2 1/2 stars

Friday the 13th, the series: A Cup of Time *Old age is wasting the youth, when youth aren't wise enough not to drink from its cup.* 2 stars

The Walking Dead: Crossed *Rick Grimes used to be a cop. Emphasis on used to be. Now, he's cold blooded. Come to think of it, then again...* 2 1/2 stars

American Horror Story --Murder House-- "Halloween" *"find my nest of salt, everything is my fault... choking on the ashes of our enemies..."* close to 3 stars

Tales from the Crypt: Dead Right *It's a given that grotesque Jeffrey Tambor will gore gorgeous gold-digger Demi Moore.* 3 stars

Mystery Science Theater 3000: The Corpse Vanishes *"A cockeyed nightmare or a nighteyed cockmare?!"* 1 1/2 stars with riffing 1/2 a star without

Tex Avery's "Jerky Turkey" 1945 *"Don't eat at Joe's"* 2 1/2 stars

"Thankskilling" 2009 *"No more pumpkin pie, no more cranberry sauce, just turkey..."* 1 star

Twin Peaks: Miss Twin Peaks *Which way to the castle? Where there's a key, there's always a lock. Fear and love open the door.* 3 stars

"Dreamchild" 1985 (with Jim Henson creature shop puppetry) *Ian Holm makes a better Jack from the Titanic, for Alice in Wonderland's  elderly Alice, than Leo DiCaprio ever could. Also, Peter Gallagher is certainly more charming than Billy Zane. He's more of a sly weasel too.* 3 stars

Game of Thrones -Season 3 -episode 3 *"In the grave, there are no masters."* 3 stars

Joe Bob's Drive In Theater presents "Posed for Murder"

with special guest host Elvira *A generic softcore thriller about an adult magazine centerfold being stalked by a psychotic motorcycle glove and every meathead who wants to screw her. It's one of those bad movies where the lyrics of the songs, playing throughout, sync up with the on screen stupidity.* 1 1/2 stars

Tales from the Crypt: Cutting Cards *Compulsive rivals go head to head til the last stump standing.* 2 1/2 stars

"Paradise" 1982 *A very Biblical man, Willie Aames, watches his parents get murdered by bandits, then flees and gets stranded with a beautiful maiden, Phoebe Cates, in a desert/tropical oasis where he sneaks peeks at her sinful nudity, tries to keep a chimpanzee from self pleasuring, destroys dirty medical texts, and tries to keep an Arab jackal from stealing his woman and deflowering her.* 2 stars

Farscape: They've Got A Secret *Space whale calf care is killing the crew, and crossbreeding with the empire's clone troopers is strictly forbidden and must remain emotionally hidden.* 2 1/2 stars

Cowboy Bebop: Waltz for Venus *Lacking one quality but heightening another's fluidity.* 3 stars

Hillbilly Bears: Stranger than Friction *monkeying around with hospitality can get ya head blown't off* 2 1/2 stars

Z Nation: Murphy's Law *Every ridiculous thing this show tries to do somehow works. Drug addicted zombies, check. Viagra sex zombies, check. Murphy having telepathic control over the infected, check. The most surprisingly effective show of the year. Each new episode is something new. Rarely boring or stagnant in an all too boring and stagnant apocalyptic / zombie / survival horror genre.* 2 1/2 stars

"Walking Tall" 1973 *Landmark hicksploitation with Buford on par with Leatherface in terms of legend. A yarn that satisfies in its visceral exaltation of justice, while still having enough subtext about the road of revenge being a ragged one.* 3 stars

Kolchak, the Night Stalker: The Youth Killer *sucking the life out of the singles scene* 3 stars

USA Up All Night with Rhonda Shear presents

"Fright Night" 1980s version -------------------------------

*Necking with your girl while watching late night vampire horror hosted by a faux vampire slayer from such movies.

USA network has the world's hottest show 'Baywatch' five nights a week.

For the girls of paradise call 431 Girl at 2.50$ a minute.

Psychic Talk USA... are you astounded?

La Femme Nikita, Sunday Nights on USA the cure for the common show and the common boner.

Has your neighbor committed homicide? this horror obsessed kid thinks so.

Having a horrific mental breakdown? don't turn to the town Beavis for understanding.

99cent psychic encounters. It sounds dangerous. But damn affordable. 800 Predict. I predict that if you call, you'll be out 99cents.

Rhonda is at her wedding reception, where she's trying out two potential hubbies. One is a morose long haired artsy guy and the other is a big, fat cowboy with his big, fat mama who thinks that Rhonda has child bearing hips enough to produce fifteen younguns

"Someone knows their secret." I Know What You Did Last Summer, now playing in theaters everywhere.

back to the ‘’up all nite’’ movie,

the fearless vampire slayer gets fired from his job and vents on his hatred for 80s slasher monsters like Jason.

Apparently vampires yawn in the evening and are groggy when they take phone calls.

Stephen King's "Thinner" available now at videostores everywhere.

You never thought it possible, the Motorola Wordline Pager with streaming text updates  in the palm of your hand in black and grey text. It will never  get more advanced than this, says the 90s business professional yuppy.

No rules, no ring,  no exit, and not place to hide 'Fighting Force' for the playstation.

The legend is here, the time is now, Chuck Norris is Walker Texas Ranger, weeknights on USA.

I'm all alone pick up the phone, sluts are standing by on another phone sex commercial.

Macho Man says REST IN PEACE and SNAP INTO A Slim Jim, OH YEAH! Halloween Havoc, Dig it!

Peter Vincent is like the Alan Partridge of the occult.

What do you do when a David Bowie type douche wants to do your girlfriend?

Hollywood's hottest stuntmen use bodyheat activated degree deodorant.

USA's Sunday Night Heat with Pacific Blue, Silk Stalkings, and The Big Easy. Turn it on and turn it up.

I miss sleazy USA network programming.

Magic the Gathering, all you need is a brain, a deck, and a friend, and an intact virginity.

Rhonda is a  runaway bride when she realizes she doesn't have to be married to shop.*

3 stars

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

Gargoyles: Deadly Force *"Movies, television, videogames...(sigh) it's hard to tell what's real anymore." A lesson about how our culture ignores the real drama of the consequences of gunplay.* 3 stars

Stargate - Atlantis - "Thirty Eight Minutes" *The perils of dealing with stubborn parasites, wormhole constipations, lifeboat malfunctions, and bruised egos.* 3 stars

Stephen King's "Kingdom Hospital" -season 1 -episode 3 *Solid cold oldies* 3 stars

The Outer Limits: The Conversion *The future's not ours, you see...* 2 1/2 stars

Max Headroom: Body Banks *Eternal sunshine of the sober mind that refuses to sell out to corporate swine who think they can harvest the poor & healthy in order to buy more time.* 3 stars

Tales from the Crypt: 'Til Death *Fated to the fetid* 2 stars

Swamp Thing: Treasure *Little Jim has a long lost relative dying on his bathroom floor, a Swamp Thing trapped in his attic unable to sneak away, and an evil blonde beauty who wants to shoot him, or his mom, with a small pistol -if he doesn't cough up the location of stolen money  hidden in a junkpile out in the swamp.* 3 stars

Jonny Quest: Riddle of the Gold *The smite of the tiger.* 3 stars

Scare Tactics -season 2 -episode 10 -------------------

*Cleaning the ham bones out of a creep's croc pond.* 2 1/2 stars

*Maids stumble onto a bloody, and active, crime scene.* 2 stars

*A ladies man looks at the wrong farmer's naked daughter.* 3 stars

*Carny folk forget and leave a horned dwarf troll in the walls of a rental home.* 2 1/2 stars

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Roger Corman presents "Streets" 1990 *For skid row kids, like Christina Applegate's homeless teenage prostitute character,  it's a symbiotic game of staying ahead, and also in reach, of their constant pursuers  and abusers, but sometimes the bleak circumstances highlighting the literal dead ends  make it even more painful if a glimmer of hope happens to also be there.* 3 stars

American Horror Story - Asylum - "Nor'Easter" *Pontius Pilate wept at the end of E.T.* 3 stars

Paranormal State -season 1 -episode 8 *Remodeling the home of a early 20th century sawbones stirs spirits.* 2 stars

Bob and Margaret: Blood, Sweat, and Tears *stretching thinly to feel the burn and avoid the fine line of permanent injury in the process of healthy activity and friendly civility* 3 stars

I'm Alan Partridge: Never Say Alan Again *pass the Sunny D and STOP TALKING ABOUT AMERICAN THINGS!* 3 stars

X Files: Squeeze *Spooky versus mutie (aka mutant).* 3 stars

The Walking Dead: The Coda *Rick Grimes drives a hard bargain, but compromises and evasively dangerous behavioral maneuvers, of others involved, put everyone back on the road of loss.* 3 stars

House 3: The Horror Show -1989- *"An electricity of evil." Lance Henriksen is a straight current running parallel to an unsteady moronic shocker.* between 1 1/2 and 2 stars

Freddy's Nightmares: Mother's Day *You gotta fight or flight for your right to party with Fredddy.* 2 1/2 stars *Weepy Wendy can't get any affectionate attention from her radio shrink mom, a seriously Selfish Sherry.* 2 1/2 stars

Ultimate Scooters: Featuring the Hot Wheels Shocker -2000- *Video time capsule documenting how turn of the 21st century bro-men took to the streets, with tots, riding toy scooters.* 1 star

Popeye the Sailor Man: ----------

*Me Musical Nephews: Runts rockabye a restless Popeye.* headache inducing zero stars

*Spooky Swabs: Ghostly mutiny.* 3 stars

*Patriotic Popeye: Safe n' sane U.S. n' A. holiday or party explosives?* 2 stars

*Ancient Fistory: Disney Princess Cinderfella Queer Eye for the Popeye.* 2 stars

*Taxi-Turvy: Scat cab skidoo.* 3 stars

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

Fleischer Studios presents Betty Boop: -------------------------

*Betty Boop's Crazy Inventions: Spunky sales pitch for quirky products.* 3 stars

*and the Little King: Calamity Betty* 2 1/2 stars

*Pudgy in Ding Dong Doggie: Hot doggy, Betty spank.* 2 1/2 stars

*Grampy in the Candid Candidate: Mayoral mishap calls for thinking cap.* 2 1/2 stars

*Language All My Own: Betty is super kawaii in the land of the rising sun.* 2 stars

*Grampy's Indoor Outing: homemade carnival play on a rainy day.* 2 1/2 stars

*Little Nobody: Stuck up pup and a blue ribbon baywatch doggy strut.* 2 1/2 stars

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Adult Swim --off the air-- "Worship" *vacation bible surreal* 2 stars

Squidbillies 96: How did my worm get in your taco? *Early en Espanol, an all american buttthole.* 3 stars

Tim & Eric, Bedtime Stories: The Bathroom Boys *Dragging the viewer into the toilet with the non-humor painful shits & giggles of Tim, Eric, Zach Galifianakis and surprise guest, the beautiful, cleaned, and dolled up Maggie from the Walking Dead.* between zero and 1 star

Thundarr, the Barbarian: Portal into Time *Apple 2 defender of the Alamo. Beastmaster 2 culture shock. Thundarr, Ariel, Ookla are  Earth's mightiest Avengers. Volkswagen Beetle dragon. Ookla, a cookie monster. An escalator can never be broken, it can only become stairs, so said Mitch Hedberg. Terminator 2 style skynet tech heist. Finally, a first ever victory at the Alamo.* 3 stars

Hill Street Blues: Politics as Usual *Bribery. blackmail. backstabbing. bargaining courts. boo-hooing. barking like a dog. busted. buttcheeks and butthole search. bathing lovemaking. break up.* 3 stars

Burn, Baby, Burn: Riots and Violence in the Modern World *unabashed ugliness* 1 star

Victor Salva's "The Nature of the Beast" 1995 starring Lance Henriksen & Eric Roberts-- *A serial killer plus a casino riches thief, both on the run, find homogeneity on a lost stretch of desert highway.* 3 stars

Paranormal State -season 1 -episode 9 *a spirit is shattering and nudging (the babypowder test, "thrilling") wine glasses in a, struggling to survive, sports bar.* 1/2 a star

The Outer Limits: Quality of Mercy *Hogan's Heroes meets Enemy Mine with an M. Night twist.* 2 1/2 stars

Cowboy Bebop: Jamming with Edward *A self activated spy sattelite is sad & lonely and so is a spunky hacker.* 3 stars

Swamp Thing: New Acquaintance *Jim brings home a misunderstood stray, and ST resurrects a rabbit.* 2 1/2 stars

Shaw Brothers: Iron Chain Fighter (aka Assassin) *There are no bonds that chop sockey can't break.* 3 stars

Game of Thrones: -season 3 -episode 4 *Climbing and falling. Losing a hand. Handing over a legacy. Protecting the virtue of an innocent. Hungering for insurrection. Dispensing the light of justice. Burning a path for freedom.* 3 stars

Friday the 13th, the series: HELLOWE'EEN *The awful uncle seeks offal flesh to slip into back to life.* between 2 1/2 and 3 stars

Tales from the Crypt: Three's A Crowd *cuckold anniversary surprise* 3 stars

American Horror Story --Murder House-- "Piggy Piggy" *Growing pains. Raw brains. Oinking angst.* 2 1/2 stars

BBC All Watched Over By Machines of Loving Grace: "The Monkey in the Machine and the Machine in the Monkey" *We humans are something like a phenomenon or perhaps maybe an automaton.* 3 stars

"Beyond the Black Rainbow" --2010-- *Timothy Leary has gone too far this time.* 3 stars

Scare Tactics: season 2 -episode 11 ---------------

*Family killer in a scarecrow disguise puts a young carpenter in concern.* 2 stars

*Gold chain necklace wearing "Dr. Jeff" doesn't want his "molecules heated up" in a mad scientist's The Fly -esque matter transport experiment.* 2 1/2 stars

*A greaseball is hired to clean up "red wine" stains for a Sopranos sausage and refuses to wear a wire for an undercover sting.* 2 1/2 stars

*Fear Antics: A wannabe actor, in a slasher prank, gets pushed over the edge.* 2 1/2 stars

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Paranormal State: Season 1 -episode 10 *A Native American coyote spirit / chaos critter is an unwanted housepest, for a rural Maine mom & visiting daughter, when its vortex in the backyard is disturbed. So, the team calls in some Native elders to do a ritual at the rocks around a hole on the property, and Christian psychic medium Chip Coffey tells the howling haunt to hit the road.* 2 1/2 stars