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fearfulkittenwrites · 4 years

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“Just a normal night”

Inspired by @s-mscott - link for the art, please check it out!

Word count: 2832

Notes: HEY. THIS IS JUST BEEN SITTING ON MY FILES FOR THE LONGEST TIME AND I COMPLETELY FORGOT ABOUT IT DKJFHAKJHAKJDFH. Anyway, it's a long time coming. The writing probs isn't as neat or as good as the latest uploads bc of that, but... idk. Hopefully it's good! I couldn't bring myself to edit it again, sorry about that. I hope you can enjoy it anyways and please go check out the artist, @s-mscott!

“Guys?” Dick asked, on his tiptoes as he rummaged through every cabinet in the huge kitchen “Hey are we out of cereal? I can’t find my Lucky Charms anywhere.”

“I think so.” Jason answered “I ate the last of the Lucky Charms last night.”

“Yep.” Tim said, popping the ‘p’ as he slid through the countertop, landing a bit behind Dick “I had the last of the frosted flakes two days ago.”

“Froot Loops?” Dick asked.

“I had those.” Duke answered “Sorry.”

“Fruity Pebbles?”

Cass raised her hand, looking at the ground.

“Reese’s Puffs?”

“I finished the box yesterday.” Damian announced, crossing his arms as he leaned against the marble sink.

“Damn.” Dick murmured and pouted as he closed the cabinet’s door “I’ve been craving cereal today.”

“We can always go get some.” Jason shrugged.

“At three in the morning?” Duke asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Actually, four.” Jason corrected, putting up a finger “And yeah, why not? I mean, we had a hard patrol tonight, and if Dick wants some cereal, I say let’s go get some cereal.”

“It’s four in the morning, Todd.” Damian said.

“I mean, the closest Walmart is open 24/7.” Tim interfered.

“You can’t be seriously considering this, Grayson.” Damian frowned at his older brother.

“Why not? I’m not sleepy anyways.” Dick crossed his arms and shrugged.

“Yes!” Jason hissed “Late night adventures with the baby bats. Let’s roll!” He clapped his hands once, and started to walk out of the kitchen, his siblings following him to the garage.

“Oh wait!” Dick said “Let’s ring up Bruce and see if there’s anything else we need.”

“Bold of you to assume he’d know what we need.” Tim interfered.

“Yeah, well, it’s worth a shot. Plus, do any of us really want to wake up Alfred to ask him?” Dick said, taking his communicator out of his pocket and placing it in his ear “B? Have a sec?” He asked

“Nightwing. What’s wrong?” Came the answer, Batman’s raspy voice flowing through the device.

“Oh, nothing’s wrong. We’re going to take a quick trip to the supermarket, I wanted to ask if you need anything.”

“... At four in the morning?”

“Yeah. Do you need anything?”

Bruce sighed.

“We’re running out of the coffee blend that Tim likes. Alfred the cat’s favorite treats have been gone since last week, and Cass’ favorite ice cream is done. Oh, buy Duke that soda he likes, I drank the last can. Also, Jason’s cookies and that brand of chips you like, we ran out of those. Oh, and buy something with Iron in it, I’m worried that Damian might not be getting enough.”

“Like spinach?” Dick said, writing it down on his phone’s notes.

“Yeah, that’ll do. Ah, and we’re a little low on milk.”

“Okay. Will keep that in mind. Thanks B, have a nice patrol.”

“Please don’t give the papers any headlines.”

“You got it, B. Bye.”

He placed the device back on his pocket.

“Okay, there’s a lot of stuff to buy, so let’s get going. I’ll drive.”

“Shotgun!” Jason yelled.

“We’re taking the S.U.V., one of you will need to ride in the trunk.” Dick said.

“I’ll go.” Cass’ eyes twinkled. No one could understand why she was always so fascinated with the idea of riding in the trunk, but she seemed to find it fun and all of them thought that her excitement was cute.

“Alright then.” Dick smiled, ruffling her hair. Her grin grew wider, and Duke set her hair straight again before they got into the car.

“Hey, can I play my music?” Tim asked from the backseat.

“Don’t force us to listen to the atrocity Drake calls music, Grayson.” Damian complained, arms crossed “Let me play something.”

“Uh, I’d rather not listen to Mozart and Bach while we’re in the car.” Duke protested.

“It’s called classic for a reason, Thomas.”

“Doesn’t matter, bat-brat.” Jason said “I’m with him on this one. Besides, universal car rules, shotgun DJ’s.”

“Since when?” Tim asked.

“Since now.” Jason said, plugging his phone in.

“Uh, I don’t think so.” Dick took the cord from him “According to ‘Supernatural’ rules, ‘Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole’. So that’s mine.”

“No one else watches this show Dickhead!” Jason pulled the cord back.

“Doesn’t matter, because I’m older!” Dick pulled it back again.

“Age is just a number!” Tim pushed himself to the front seat and took the cord back.

“Great point Drake!” Damian pulled him back by his waist, stealing the cord from him too.

“Hey, stop with the fuss, I’m gonna crash the car!” Dick said.

“Maybe we should just play Beyoncé...” Duke suggested. The car went silent for a while.

“Okay.” Dick said “Put on ‘Single Ladies’.”

“No. ‘Halo’ is her best.” Damian complained.

“Uhm, no way? I’m playing ‘Drunk in Love’, and that’s it.” Tim shot back.

“Are you crazy? Play ‘Formation’.” Duke interfered.

“I like ‘Run the World’...” Cass said quietly from the trunk.

“Yeah, okay,” Tim murmured “We’ll play that.”

The girl smiled as the first notes from the song filled the car.

There weren’t many cars in the parking lot, which was expected. They picked up two carts, and Dick hopped inside the one Jason was pushing.

“Dude!” Duke started “You’re in your mid-twenties!”

“Leave me alone, I nearly sprained my ankle today.” Dick stuck his tongue out. No one else questioned anything beyond that. The employees simply sighed, used to the two older brothers and their antics.

“Hey Parker.” Jason greeted the nighttime security guard.

“Hey. I see you two brought the whole gang tonight.” He answered.

“Yup.” Dick smiled.

“So this is a regular thing for the two of you?” Duke asked.

“Are you really surprised, Duke?” Tim shot back.

“No. Not really.”

“Okay. First stop, Bruce said we need to get Tim’s coffee.” Dick exclaimed, looking at the list.

Jason led the way, Dick grinning like a child on the cart, Cass quietly following as she pushed their second cart, Duke making friendly conversation with her while Tim and Damian kept bickering right behind them.

“Oh, wait!” Dick held on to the metal bars “We’re right next to the cookies and Bruce said we’re out of your favorites, Jay.” He looked up.

“Alright, a little detour then.” Jason turned them around, quickly grabbing his treats “Anyone wants anything else from this aisle?”

“But... We don’t need anything else from the aisle.” Duke pointed out.

“Um, we have a billionaire’s credit card?” Tim said “Bruce won’t freak out if we buy a few extra things.”

“Uuuh, they have those koala shaped cookies!” Dick hopped out of the cart “How many do I get?”

“I want one.” Cass said.

“Chocolate or strawberries?”

“Uh… I want both.” She answered.

“Okay, one each for the lady, two strawberries for me...”

“I want a chocolate one.” Tim said.

“Me too.” Damian asked.

“Oh, just take twenty boxes, ten of each flavor.” Jason interfered, dumping them on Cass’ cart “We’ll share later.”

“Oh my God, those are expensive!” Duke said, exasperated.

“Yeah. So?” Jason shot back.

“Bruce is a billionaire, bro. He won’t mind.” Dick said, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah, well, it’s easy for you guys to say it. You grew up like that. It’s kinda hard to accept this when you aren’t used to having so much.” Duke answered, scratching his neck.

“Hey, I get that feeling lil’ bro.” Jason tapped his back “I spent my childhood in Gotham’s streets.”

“Yeah. I mean, I grew up in the circus. I wasn’t used to the idea of getting brand new stuff instead of asking for hand-me-downs from our friends whenever I grew out of my clothes.” Dick interfered.

“But... Just think about it like this.” Jason got closer to him “We now can get everything we couldn’t in the past.”

Duke frowned. Jason nodded encouragingly.

“That... Doesn’t help.”

“I tried.” Jason shrugged. Dick hopped back in the cart “To the coffee aisle!” He exclaimed, pushing his brother around.

“Hang on.” Tim said “This is where they leave the energy drinks. Let me take some.”

“Why do you insist on drinking this crap, Drake?” Damian scowled, reading the label in one of the cans “If you have such a death wish, jumping in front of a train is a much cheaper, quicker alternative.”

“Shut up, little devil.” Tim picked up cans from his favorite brand.

“Jason, push me a little farther down the aisle, please.” Dick asked “They keep their iced teas over there.”

“Ugh, Grayson, you disgust me.” Damian rolled his eyes.

“Don’t be so judgemental Lil’ D.” He smiled, being pushed away by Jason.

As they examined the cans, Dick noticed he had attracted the looks of a middle aged man, a couple of steps from them. He was staring at his hoodie, that contained the frase ‘I love dick’ printed on it.

“Oh,” He exclaimed, smiling at the guy “My name is Richard. That’s why it’s funny.” The man nodded “I’m also queer as fuck, so that makes it better.” He added nonchalantly, and the man’s eyes widened “Okay Jay, I picked up all I wanted, let’s go back.”

“Alright you little shits, back to the coffee quest.” Jason said, leading the way once again. This time, they finally made it to the coffee aisle. Tim crouched down, looking for his favorite blend.

Cass got a little curious once she laid eyes on a colorful package on the top shelf. She picked it up and handed it to Dick.

“Read. Please.”

“This is an espresso roast. Here it says that it has notes of strawberry? Vanilla and... Sugar cane. Colombian coffee. Seems nice. Wanna take it?”

“Yes.” She nodded. Dick dropped it on his cart.

Cass wandered away, still looking at all of the coffee blends.

“Hey girlie,” A guy whistled at her, next to his group of friends “Nice ass.”

She squinted at them.

“Yo, asshole!” Tim screamed, getting their attention “That’s our sister!” He threw a bag of coffee beans at the guy’s face, causing his nose to bleed.

“Hey, who do you think you are?” One of them started to walk up to her brothers. Cass could tell that he wanted trouble, so she grabbed his arm and slammed his face against the shelf, so quickly and brutally that it barely budged, leaving the products unbothered, but the guy fell to the floor, disoriented. She stared at him.

“We are Waynes.” Damian answered, pacing towards them quietly, hands on his pockets “I suggest you apologize immediately for the troubles, if you wouldn’t want to get a hefty lawsuit for your harrasment.”

“Uh, sorry bro.” One of them started, a little scared “We didn’t-”

“Not to me.” He interrupted “To her.”

“We’re sorry, miss Wayne.” All of them mumbled.

“Now promise you won’t do it again.” Damian added.

“We won’t do it again.” They started at the floor, next to where their fallen friend laid down.

“Good.” He squinted “Help your friend up, and get out of my sight.”

They did as they were told, helping his friend walk straight again. As Cass headed back, Dick gently touched her arm, looking up at her.

“Hey, are you alright?” She smiled and gave him a thumbs up. He smiled back.

“Does this happen often?” Jason asked.

“Sometimes.” She shrugged “But they always say sorry after I break their nose.”

“Ayy, that’s our girl.” Jason praised “Alright, we got the coffee. Where to next?”

“Let’s see... Next item is Alfred the cat’s treats.” Dick said.

“Ha!” Damian laughed loudly “As if Alfred would eat the... peasant treats that this store offers. No. I’ve already bought the adequate brand from an online shop.”

“Okay...” Dick raised an eyebrow “Then... Cass’ ice cream is next, but I think we should leave that as the last item, so it won’t melt, which leads us to Duke’s soda because Bruce had the last can.”

“Let’s go then. I think that the cereal aisle is on the way, so we’ll get that first.” Jason said, pushing the cart around again.

“Which ones do we get?” Tim asked, looking through the shelf.

“Everything that has sugar.” Dick answered. His brother began handing him boxes, when they heard a small whisper.

“Oh my God, are those...?” A girl said to her friend, attracting the eyes of the siblings. The duo averted their gaze quickly. Cass frowned at them.

“Relax.” Jason smiled, placing an arm on her back “They’re probably just... Fans.”

“Fans?” She asked, still staring suspiciously at them.

“Yeah.” Dick shrugged “I mean, we’re not super stars, but we do hit the papers pretty often. A bunch of people know us here in Gotham.” The girls were looking again, and Dick gave them a small wave, making them giggle “See? Nothing to worry about.”

“Hum.”

“Hey there, ladies.” Jason greeted, a cheeky smile on his face “What brings you to this fine establishment tonight?”

“We ran out of energy drinks.” One of them answered “What about you?”

“Cereal.” Dick answered, lifting two boxes. They giggled again.

“Hey, um... can we maybe get a picture?” The girl asked “It’s just that... no one will believe us when we tell them about this.”

“Absolutely not!” Damian answered.

“Nah, don’t listen to the little brat.” Jason said “Go ahead.”

Dick held up the boxes again, smiling as Jason made a ‘crazy’ motion with his hands. Tim turned around as the photo was being taken, turning him into a blurr with tired eyes.

“Can we get some selfies too?” The other one asked, grinning.

“No!” Damian protested again.

“Of course you can!” Dick said “Duke, Cass, come here.” He called.

All of them gathered around the cart Dick was staying at, even Damian. He didn’t look so pleased as the photo was taken, but neither did Cass.

“Thanks. You guys really are nice.” The first girl said.

“Oh, you have no clue on how nice I can be.” Jason winked, making her blush “Tell you what, why don’t I give you my phone number and you can text me those pictures later, hm?”

“Sure.” The girl bit her lips as Jason scribbled his number on her wrist.

“You are such a flirt.” Dick rolled his eyes as the girls walked away.

“What, like you aren’t?” Jason snorted, pushing him away, looking for where they kept the soda.

“I think Cass didn’t like that interaction very much.” Tim whispered to his older brothers, who turned around to find a frowning baby bat. Jason chuckled.

“What’s wrong, sis?” She scowled at him “Oh, c’mon, don’t get jealous.” He threw an arm around her shoulder “You know you’ll always be our number one girl, but a guy has his needs. And sometimes, a guy needs a date.”

Cass pushed him away, rolling her eyes as Duke placed five soda cans on her cart.

“Why would you even drink this sugar filled monstrosity, Thomas?” Damian asked, reading the labels “Grandfather wouldn’t even feed his prisoners something as revolting as this.”

“Because, Bat-brat,” He said “We’re all entitled to enjoy at least one or two things that may ultimately be responsible for our deaths.”

“I suppose.” He murmured, lifting an eyebrow “You make much finer points than the rest of them. Father has been looking for heirs in the least suitable places, I assume.” He clicked his tongue “It’s a good thing I’m here to help.”

“Okay...” Duke answered, raising his eyebrows and averting his gaze. There was only so much strangeness that he could handle.

“Great, now we need to get my chips and spinach.” Dick stated.

“Spinach?” Tim asked “Why spinach?”

“B thinks Damian may have been needing more iron in his diet.” Dick shrugged.

“Aaw.” Tim said “That’s actually kinda cute. Do you think he ever worries about our diets?”

“Don’t be stupid Tim, of course he doesn’t.” Jason answered.

“He does.” Dick shot back “He worries about us, he just... Really, really, really, reaaaally sucks at showing it sometimes.”

“Potatoe, potatoe.” Jason murmured.

“Yeah, whatever. Keep me moving Little Wing, we have stuff to pick up and my tiredness is catching up to me.” Dick pointed forward.

“Sure. But the chips are in the opposite direction.”

“Well turn me around then, do you want me to look like an idiot?” Dick said, a little exasperated.

“I wish you had an off button sometimes.” Jason sighed as he made his way to the chips section.

An employee, mopping the floor with a bored expression, looked up from what he was doing when he saw the Wayne gang talking loudly. Dick tried to control his brothers from inside the cart, and had just told Jason to separate a fight between Tim and Damian. Duke and Cass snicker as they saw a bored, six feet tall Jason pushing his much smaller brothers apart.

“Yep.” The employee murmured to himself “Billionaires shopping at Walmart at four in the morning. Just a normal night.”

Hey! If you made it this far, please consider reblogging this? It helps with spreading my fics and it makes me very happy, hahahaha!

Regardless, thanks for reading <3

#batfamily #BatFam #Batbrothers #batsiblings #fanfiction

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ibelongtowrath · 4 years

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Skipping The Previews - MLQC (Ling Xiao/Shaw) NSFW

Summary: You decide to go see a movie to take your mind off of everything that's going on in the world, but a sexy stranger thinks it's a good idea to take the seat right next to yours. Rating: Explicit! 18+ NSFW Relationship: Ling Xiao x Female Reader, Shaw x Female Reader, Tags: oral sex, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, fingerfucking, shameless smut, semi-public sex Word Count: 5,707

Read on AO3

Notes: I've been wanting to write something about Shaw ever since I've seen pictures of him & finally encountered him in MLQC and whew...I know he's going to wreck my Kiro and Gavin biases! I wanted to portray him as kind of cocky, since I got that kind of vibe from him, and I hope I managed to capture that essence here. Please keep in mind that I started writing this before movie theaters were shut & things began getting very serious. I was thinking of a scenario where the reader would be upset that Shaw sits directly next to her, and a reason that the theater might still be empty for them to fuck freely in lol. Please enjoy!

It’s midday Saturday, and the movie theater is practically deserted. Carefully, you push the handicap button with your elbow, allowing the doors to open so you don’t have to physically grab them. Everyone is supposed to be doing mandated social distancing, staying six feet away from other humans at all times, until they can get the spread of the virus under control. Going to see a movie in the midst of a pandemic is not the smartest idea, but you want to take advantage of being able to go out as much as you possibly can before we’re all in lockdown. A good science-fiction action movie will take your mind off of things, even if only temporarily.

Grabbing your favorite drink from the Freestyle machine, a Cherry Coke, you walk towards the theater the movie will be playing in. On your way there, you pass the mirror by the exit of the women’s bathroom, and take a quick peek at your reflection. You’re not exactly sure why you bothered with putting so much effort into your appearance when hardly anyone will see it. Shrugging and fluffing your hair quickly in the mirror, you turn back and continue walking into the theater.

You had picked the seat all the way in the furthest corner of the theater, away from everyone else. Even if there was no social distancing rule, you would have picked it anyway. You settle down into the recliner, the leather cold as it touches your bare legs. It’s an unseasonably warm March day today, and you’re wearing shorts for the first time since September.

Pushing the button, you recline the chair virtually as far as it will go. The theater is completely vacant, and you pray it stays that way. There’s still about 15 minutes before the previews start, and you decide to pass the time browsing your Instagram explore page, watching makeup application videos and laughing at a couple cute and funny cat videos. You’re so fixated on one particular video of a rather chonky cat, you don’t notice the handsome stranger settling into the seat directly next to yours.

You had pushed the middle armrests up to give yourself more space, and when you hear the strange crinkling sound next to you, you’re confused, because you haven’t moved. Your eyes dart to to left, and widen in shock when they meet the gaze of a gorgeous stranger’s; an amber, honey-colored hue you can’t help but stare into.

You try to keep your expression neutral, but he’s so attractive, it’s hard to keep your composure. His lavender-grey locks of hair fall messily, but carefully at the same time, over his face, framing it perfectly, some of his fringe falling into his golden eyes. You resist the urge to touch the locks of his hair, to sweep them out of the way, so you can better admire the beautiful flecks of gold and honey in that gaze. His purple and black hoodie, darker in hue than his hair, perfectly compliments the color of his eyes. He wears a black choker around his neck, and jeans that are messily, but intentionally, ripped at the knees. Several hoop earrings adorn his ears, a cuff hugging the upper cartilage of his left ear.

Breaking off his gaze, you feel yourself blushing furiously, the heat spreading to your cheeks like a wildfire. Thank goodness you put on a bit of foundation today, so he can’t see the furious rush of red that must be stretched across your face. You notice his hands, the right one wearing a fingerless glove, clutching his phone. The other is bare, a maroon beaded necklace decorating the wrist.

“Is this seat taken, love?” he asks, his lips turning up on one side, flashing you the cockiest grin you’ve ever seen. He knows the answer, obviously trying to provoke you.

Not wanting to give him the satisfaction, despite feeling your heart thump, thump -ing loudly against your chest, you turn your gaze towards the screen. An ad for an interactive mobile game is playing on the projector.

“Aw, come on, don’t be like that,” the stranger says, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“In the case that you’ve been blissfully ignorant, which is probable,” you respond, gaze hardening on the screen before you, “we’re supposed to be staying at least six feet from other people.”

“Damn, you’ve got some bite.” He grins at you.

Running his fingers through his hair, he continues. “Yeah, I’ve seen the news. Been wanting to see this movie, though. I saw only one person had bought a ticket, so I bought the seat next to ‘em. I was hoping it would be next to a pretty girl. I was right.”

You turn to look at him, an incredulous look on your face. The compliment is flattering, but he doesn’t have to know that. You try to keep your best poker face on.

“And you thought that was a good idea?” you retort.

It comes out with less bite than you intended, now that you’re looking at him directly. His devastatingly good looks are working their charm on you, and he picks up on it. The cocky smirk returns, a glint of something mischievous flashing in his eye. He knows you’re faltering, and he fully plans on persuading you.

“I thought it would be a good opportunity to get to know each other.”

You can’t help but continue to stare at him, in complete awe of his audacity.

“Figured if you turned out to be some random dude, I’d just go sit in another seat. No big deal.”

He shrugs, but that wild glint is still in his eye. In the pause that follows, he takes the time to look you over. His gaze lingers on your full lips, then drops to the swell of your breasts beneath your t-shirt. It continues downward, to the curves of your waist and hips outfitted in your favorite pair of short black shorts.

Feeling slightly self-conscious under the weight of his scrutinizing gaze, you unconsciously drop your hands into your lap and look down. You know you should get up and find another seat, or at the very least try harder to make him move. Some feeling you can’t quite place is anchoring you to your current spot. Is it...excitement? Is it arousal? No. No way .

The previews should be starting in a few minutes, and you’re thankful for the coming distraction.

“Name’s Shaw, by the way.” His voice suddenly cuts through the silence between the advertisements on screen.

Crossing your arms, you look to your left. You decide it can’t hurt, telling him your name.

“ Y/N ,” you tell him. “It’s nice to meet you, Shaw.”

“Likewise, Y/N ,” Shaw replies.

The smirk reappears, but more playful. It doesn’t quite match the look in those topaz eyes. The determination is still there, and you brace yourself for whatever he’s going to try saying next. You know, deep down, that his unrelenting perseverance, charm and good looks might just be your undoing.

Shaw reaches for something behind him. He pulls out an orange bag of Reese’s Pieces, slightly shaking it so the peanut butter and chocolate pieces clink together. He opens the bag, grabs a handful, and drops them in his mouth, his tongue sticking out to catch the pieces in case they fall. You can’t help but stare at the pink wetness and length of his tongue, wondering what it would be like to kiss him and feel it on your own…

Whoa, where did that thought come from ? you ask yourself, confused. Your face feels like an inferno yet again. As if sensing your thoughts, he audibly crunches the candy in his mouth. He swallows, and grins at you.

“Want some, pretty girl? Looking like you do,” Shaw asks, tilting the bag towards you.

He knows you were staring, and not at the bag of candy.

“U-um...sure,” you stammer, poorly attempting to keep your composure.

You hold out your hands, cupping them, fully expecting Shaw to pour the mini candies into your palm. Instead, that devilish glint returning to his amber eyes, he pours the yellow and orange candy pieces into his own hand. Confused, you feel your brow furrow slightly, wondering what he’s planning on doing.

Before you can react, Shaw closes the already short distance between you on the recliners. He pushes himself over and encroaches into your personal space. You feel the heat of his body next to yours, his jeans-clad leg brushing up against your bare skin. Your nerve endings feel electrified, your heart beating so hard, it feels like it could explode through your chest at any second.

Shaw leans in, as though he weren’t already close enough. His face is now mere inches from yours. You feel your eyes widen in shock. This close up, his eyes are even more mesmerizing. His skin is perfect, blemish-free, and his lips look so soft, so inviting…He lifts his gloved hand towards your face, fingers lightly brushing your jaw. Then, moving his hand up to your face, he strokes your lips gently with his thumb.

Nonplussed by his move, you feel frozen. You’re unsure of how to react. At the same time, his close proximity and the softness of his skin as he caresses your lips causes goosebumps to flare on your legs and up and down your arms. You start to feel the excitement building within. Giving in to the feeling, you can feel the arousal beginning to pool in your underwear...all caused by this handsome stranger. With a wicked grin, Shaw places his thumb between your lips, pushing against them lightly.

“Open wide, pretty girl,” he coos.

You part your mouth at his command, your excitement unable to be contained.

“That’s a good girl,” he murmurs.

He takes his hand, fingers tilting your chin up. With the other hand holding the candy, he drops them in your mouth slowly, the pieces clinking together when they land on your tongue. He takes his hand away as you close your mouth and chew the candy, bursts of chocolate and peanut butter dancing on your tongue. You swallow, looking at Shaw again, just as the theater lights begin to dim. The previews are starting, and the theater is still deserted.

With that sexy stunt, you feel your chest beginning to rise and fall a little faster. You try to control your breathing. The tension between the two of you escalates with every breath. With that mischievous expression still on his face, Shaw reaches his hand out and cradles your face in his hand.

“Do you want some more, love?” asks Shaw, talking over the volume of the first preview that has begun playing on the screen.

He runs his tongue over his teeth, almost taunting you. Fully aware of the dangerous double entendre in his words, you feel your arousal escalate, almost unbearable at this point.

Instead of answering him, you gently grab Shaw’s hand, moving it upwards, towards your lips.

Deciding to give him a double meaning of your own, you find yourself opening your mouth a bit wider, wrapping your tongue around his index finger. You close your lips around it. He tastes like the sweet candies. You run your tongue underneath his finger softly, then slowly pull it out of your mouth.

You’re feeling powerful and sexy in the way Shaw is now gaping at you, completely turned on. His expression quickly changes back to his usual cocky, lopsided grin.

“What’s that you said earlier about being six feet apart?” he teases, leaning in towards your ear, so close you can feel his breath tickling the side of your neck.

He lightly nibbles at the lobe, then moves lower. He kisses your neck, adding another gentle bite. You feel yourself shudder in delight. It’s easy to forget you’re sitting in a movie theater and someone could walk in at any second.

Shaw continues leaving red marks, from your jaw to where your t-shirt begins. He pulls the fabric down, revealing your shoulder, kissing and nibbling. You whimper, your excitement and desperation getting harder and harder to hide with every bite. You feel your nipples starting to harden against the lacey cups of your bra. Sensing your agony, Shaw lifts his head up and grasps your face softly yet firmly.

“Look at you. Getting all hot and bothered,” he coos, his silky voice causing your legs to tremble.

His hand still holding your face, Shaw lightly turns your head towards his, then crushes his mouth against yours. It muffles your cry of shock, quickly turning it into a gasp of pleasure. You lean further into him, deepening the kiss. You bite his lower lip and cause a slight groan to escape from his mouth. You use this opportunity to meet your tongue with his, hungrily massaging them together.

Unable to hold back any longer, the titillating stimulation having completely drenched your panties, you break off the kiss. You can feel the excess saliva shining on your chin. You turn to face Shaw, stand up. Then, you swing your leg seamlessly and straddle him, feeling the hardness of his erection between your legs. The leather chair crinkles loudly as you move. He places his hands on your hips, hooking his thumbs through the belt hoops of your tiny black shorts.

“You bad girl,” Shaw taunts, hot breath tickling your ear. “What if someone sees?”

“Then they’re going to get a show,” you quip, silencing him with your tongue.

After a minute, or who knows how long - you’ve long since stopped trying to keep track of time - he pulls away from your hungry kisses, burying his head in your neck, kissing the sensitive skin. You feel Shaw start to lift up your shirt, revealing your lacy black bra.

His hands run slowly, deliciously up your abdomen. It starts from your hips, tracing the curves of your waist, and finally reaches the band of your bra, slipping his fingers underneath the silky fabric in one fluid motion. Goosebumps dart across your skin at his touch.

His fingers dance across the skin under the band so deliciously, you’re aching for more. When they reach the cups, he pushes them up, your breasts bouncing and spilling out with the sudden freedom. The exposure causes your heart to leap from your chest, but thankfully, no one else is around. You’ve never done something so lewd in public before.

Continuing to kiss your neck, his hands cup your breasts, caressing them gently. Shaw pinches and rolls your nipples between his thumb and index fingers, shooting pleasure straight down between your legs.

He begins his journey of bites and kisses again down your body again, moving from your neck, and down to your breasts. You feel him tonguing your nipple, lightly sucking as his tongue dances across the sensitive skin. He continues with his talented fingers on your other breast.

"Mph!”

You moan, hardly caring about how loud you’re being. All the self-control you tried so desperately to cling onto has been washed away by the hands of a sexy stranger.

The possibility of being caught heightens the adrenaline pumping through your veins. Your desire now akin to a fire, every touch of Shaw’s on your skin only serves to stoke it further. Each nibble, each caress, sends jolts of electricity through your body. Your nerve endings feel as though they’re out of control, each stimulation causing more sensitivity. You bite your lip with the pleasure of it.

Deciding it’s time that Shaw shows some skin of his own, your hands reach up under his loose sweatshirt. Fingers moving delicately, you trace the taut ridges of his abdominal muscles. Taking your cue, he lifts the fabric, pulling it further up. It’s giving you - and anyone who might walk into the theater, for that matter - a full view of his perfectly-sculpted body.

You run your hands up and down the length of his abdomen, drawing heavy breaths from Shaw. His chest rises and falls more rapidly. You lean forward then, lips on his neck, sucking the skin into your mouth. Then, you move over his defined clavicles and pecs, returning the love bites he had so graciously gifted you not much earlier.

He gasps in pleasure, placing both hands on your ass, barely covered by the fabric of your tiny shorts. He squeezes it as you grind your hips against his thighs.

Shaw’s hands move to the button of your shorts, undoing it quickly and pulling the zipper down. Your matching black panties peek out from the opening. He pulls them forward slightly, then slips two fingers in.

He ventures down slowly into your folds, the other hand gripping your inner thigh. A lewd noise escapes from your lips, and you hear Shaw’s breath hitch at the sound of your desperation.

You’re so wet, Shaw’s fingers slide up and down with ease. They linger around your swollen clit, begging to be touched. He teases it with his fingers, sending delicious waves of pleasure up your spine.

Suddenly, he pulls his fingers out, the sudden absence of them making you hungrier. Your desire is even more fierce. Your pussy is begging to be filled, and you can feel yourself clenching in frustration at having to wait.

Holding up his hand, you see the evidence of your arousal that coats his middle and ring fingers, slick and shiny in the light of the screen behind you.

“Naughty, naughty girl. Getting so turned on in a place like this.”

He sounds so proud, so full of himself. You lean back slightly, placing some distance between your bodies. Looking down at the sizable bulge in his jeans, seeing that he’s quite obviously just as turned on as you are, you feel your eyebrows raise at him.

“I could say the same for you,” you purr, your voice as smooth as velvet.

Shaw looks at you then, drinking in the sight of you. Lips pink and swollen, your eyes, half-closed and shiny, glazed over with lust, your hair messily falling around your shoulders. T-shirt and bra pushed up, bare breasts bouncing with every movement. His eyes fall on the delicious pinkish-red trail of love bites leading from your neck to your breasts...all in this very public setting.

He draws a sharp breath in, his cock straining harder against the constricting fabric of his jeans. Excitement is etched all over his skin. He knows he should stop, but he doesn’t want to, and he’s hoping you don’t want to either.

“What are you going to do about it?” Shaw tilts his head up at you, and you recognize the challenge in his words.

“You’ll see.”

Half of your brain screams at you to stop, to end this now before it goes too far. The other half eggs you on, telling you that you only live once. The metaphorical angel and devil sit on your shoulders, each giving you a reason to listen to them. Grinning, you decide to turn towards the devil, abandoning all common sense. The thrill and the pleasure are overloading your senses. All rationale and reasoning are being completely thrown out the window.

You find your hands on the button of Shaw’s jeans, unbuttoning them, and pulling the zipper down slowly. You hook your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down. After a few seconds, his fully-erect cock springs out. You widen your eyes in surprise at his length and girth. You’re a bit nervous about your ability to fit him, but you never back down from a challenge.

You grasp a hand around his erection, jerking him up and down a few times. You tease your thumb around the head, drawing out ragged breaths from Shaw. You remove your hand from his cock and, without a second thought, you stand up. Shaw watches you in anticipation.

The rush is so satisfying, you never want it to end. You’re in complete shock at yourself for feeling like this. What happened to the careful, cautious girl whose motto was “better safe than sorry?”

She’s dead and gone now .

Feeling the adrenaline blazing a trail through your veins, you sink slowly to your knees in front of Shaw’s seat, your eyes never leaving him. His eyes widen, realizing what you’re about to do, and he scoots forward to the edge of the seat.

“You’re crazy!” laughs Shaw, teasing but obviously delighted. “Crazy, crazy girl.”

You grin, accepting it as a compliment. The adrenaline rush gains more and more momentum. You can feel your pussy throbbing. Your black lacy underwear is completely soaked with the anticipation.

You lean in, grasping his length in your hand, jerking it up and down in slow, tantalizing motions. His pre-cum leaks out, and you dip your tongue into his slit, tasting and lapping up the salty fluid. Removing your hand from his shaft, you use your thumb to caress his head. You run your tongue over the length of his dick, back and forth, as though you’re tasting the most delicious ice cream you’ve ever tasted.

Shaw looks down at you then: reddened lips, swollen and moist with spit. He inhales sharply, leaning back against the chair as he does so.

Sufficiently lubricated with your saliva, you breathe deep. You open your mouth, accepting his generously-sized dick into it. You’re swallowing around it, your cheeks hollowing with the effort. You’ve never deepthroated any guy as big as him before, and you feel your throat rebelling in protest at the new challenge. You manage to quell the gag and relax your throat muscles.

His dick fully engulfed in the wet heat of your mouth and throat, you hear Shaw let out a ragged, breathy moan:

“Fuck, oh, fuck…”

He leans forward again, threading his fingers through your hair. The sudden action forces his cock a little further down your throat than you’d intended. This time, you can’t control the small gag that escapes you. Tears form in your eyes; one manages to escape, and falls down your face. Thankfully, Shaw doesn’t notice, and you continue your movement: back, and forth, swirling your tongue up and down his shaft as you move to the rhythm of a song nobody else can hear.

Having lost track of time, you continue. The loud music and explosions of a preview of some new action movie is playing behind you. You feel his dick twitch, knowing he’s close.

“F-Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum, pretty girl…” Shaw groans, stroking your hair.

A few seconds later, Shaw finally releases, shooting hot white ropes down your throat. You move your head back, slowly pulling him out of your mouth. You grasp his length once again and slowly move your hand up and down. More of his cum leaks out onto your lips, dribbling onto your chin. He looks down at you then, riding out the final throes of his orgasm as you lick your lips with a grin. You catch the slightly bitter white fluid on your tongue and make a big show of swallowing.

Shaw sits back against the cool leather of the recliner, panting, trying to control his breathing. He grins, the corner of his lip turned up, feeling amused. He can’t believe you had the balls - no pun intended - to suck him off in the movie theater. He thought he would be lucky if he got your phone number, especially considering how cold you were to him at the beginning. Pulling his underwear and jeans back up, he stands up suddenly. He looks at you, still on your knees.

“Stand up,” he tells you, and you follow his command, getting up slowly. You feel your legs shake slightly.

“Sit.”

You sit, in the same space Shaw had been sitting just seconds ago, the chair still warm from his body heat. Without warning, Shaw is now on his knees. Just as quickly, he starts pulling down your shorts and lacy black panties over your legs and feet, discarding them on the floor. You gasp in shock. That cocky upturned smirk returning for the umpteenth time, Shaw revels in your surprise.

“Just returning the favor, yeah?”

Before you can react, he forces your knees apart, spreading your legs. You whimper, slightly ashamed that you’re in this very compromised position. The hunger grows in Shaw’s steady amber gaze. Your pussy is now on full display, the fleshy pink skin coated in the clear fluid evidence of your arousal.

Shaw begins by hooking his arms around the bottoms of your thighs. He slowly kisses the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, moving closer and closer to where you want him to be most. Your desire feels like agony. It’s like a thirst dying to be quenched, a growling hunger aching to be quelled. After what feels like forever, you feel his tongue flicking at your clit. The sensation sends jolts of pleasure and electricity up through your abdomen and into your chest.

“Shaw!” you hear yourself crying out his name, overtaken by the combination of pleasure and adrenaline. The fire spreads through your body like a wildfire.

Unhooking an arm from around your thigh, Shaw inserts two fingers into your pussy. They fuck you while his talented tongue works its magic on your clit, alternating between sucking and massaging. His fingers curl up as he plunges them in and out of you, massaging your g-spot.

Shaw suddenly pulls away from you then, his voice husky.

“Oh, baby girl, you’re going to be making a mess of that seat.”

He continues his song and dance of getting you off. The combination of his fingers and tongue is almost too much to bear, and you begin to feel the heat between your legs start to rise uncontrollably. You know you’re close, and can feel the pressure building.

Within seconds, you feel the orgasm reach its crescendo, trails of fire burning from your hips up into your abdomen. Your heart pounds as you dissolve into the pleasure. At the same time, as though in sync, a loud gun “BANG!” sounds off, playing from the preview on the large screen.

You arch your back, riding it out, savoring the delicious electricity pulsing through your most sensitive nerve endings. There’s a sudden gushing feeling between your legs. Realizing you just squirted for the first time, you clap your hand over your mouth in embarrassment and excitement. The fluid leaks down your leg, pooling on the underside of your thighs.

“You didn’t tell me you were a squirter,” Shaw quips, licking his lips. They’re shiny, coated in your juices. He flashes that gorgeous smile at you.

Figuring that you also weren’t aware based on your lack of response, Shaw stands up, silhouetted by the flashing lights of the screen at the front of the room.

“Think I sufficiently returned the favor, right, love?” he asks, leaning over you.

Your tongues meet yet again, tasting each other on your lips. As he presses into you further, you notice he’s still hard. You glide your hand over the noticeable bulge, teasing him. He inhales sharply and groans into your mouth, then pulls away.

“Guess you’ve still got another round in you,” you hear yourself say. You immediately feel your face flush, shocking even yourself with your sudden boldness.

“Guess so,” Shaw replies, moving to sit down in the set of recliners to your left. He unbuttons his jeans and pulls them down, his fully-erect cock springing out once again.

“You made a mess of that one, so why don’t we try another seat, yeah?”

He winks at you, then lifts his hoodie once again to reveal his perfectly sculpted abs. He leans back, his dick resting up against them, enticing you over. You glance around the theater, still somehow empty. You then look back at Shaw, who sits patiently, waiting for your reaction.

The devil that’s still sitting on your shoulder whispers into your ear: Do it. You’ve already gone this far, what’s a little further ?

You feel a grin forming on your lips as you walk over to Shaw. Pressing against him, you straddle his thighs. You tease his cock with your pussy, your wetness coating him. His breath hitches in anticipation as you hover over him. You slowly lower yourself onto his cock, the delicious feeling of his girth filling you up overcoming all your senses. He stretches your walls and you gasp, never having felt this full before.

At the sound of his moans, the feeling of a dark, sinful, rush flows through your veins. Adrenaline, raw lust and desire are controlling all of your actions. You roll your hips, and he groans louder, placing his hands on them as the dialogue behind you drowns out the sounds of your sins. You bounce up and down, moving to the tempo of a lullaby no one else can hear. He grabs your breasts as you ride him, drawing out a whimper of pleasure.

Shaw thrusts into you, matching your cadence. You lean into him, the two of you pressed together as you fuck without inhibition. The feeling of his cock between your walls is heavenly, and you throw your head back in ecstasy, hair hanging loosely down your back.

“Hey,” you hear Shaw whisper suddenly, “why don’t we switch it up?”

The words are breathy, as though it’s hard for him to speak and fuck at the same time.

“What...do you mean?” you answer, confused, though you’re finding it equally as hard to speak coherently.

“Stand up.”

Lifting yourself off of him, you do as he says. You’re in the back of the theater, and if anyone came in just then, they would see your naked behind, save for your t-shirt and bra pushed up as far as possible.

Shaw remains seated for a few seconds longer. He reaches out behind you and squeezes your supple ass. Your naked, curvy silhouette is framed by the bright lights of the newest science-fiction action movie trailer, and he has never seen anything so sexy before.

Finally, he stands. You watch his movements carefully, your curiosity heightening. Suddenly, he moves behind you, gently pushing his knee between your legs.

“Bend over,” he instructs.

You obey.

It doesn’t take long to realize what position he wants you in, and his hands reach out to grab your hips as you’re bent over the seat, facing the back of the recliner. You oblige him further by arching your back, deepening the angle for his maximum pleasure.

An initial wave of the fear and paranoia of being caught rolls over you, but you feel it ebb as Shaw begins slamming into you yet again, returning right back to the same rhythm where you had left off in your sinful lullaby. All of your attention is focused on him. His hands rest on your hips, guiding your movement as you push back into him.

He’s so big, you can feel him filling you all the way. The heightened angle is allowing his cock to go so far, up to where he can reach no further, but thankfully it doesn’t hurt. Instead, you revel in the feeling. You’ve never been fucked by a guy who could slam all the way into you like Shaw does.

His hands grab your ass as you bounce up and down methodically. He moves them back to your hips, guiding them up and down as he thrusts harder and harder into you.

His dick slams into your g-spot repeatedly, and you feel yourself on the verge of shattering once more. Not even seconds later, you hit your climax. The fire pools low in your abdomen. The buildup starts slow as the fire blazes to life, then transforms into a pleasurable inferno, shooting all the way up into your chest.

“Mph!”

A cry of ecstasy tears from your throat. Riding out the final throes of your orgasm, your pussy walls clench tighter around his dick, causing him to gasp. The sudden tightening, a torturous yet delicious feeling, becomes nearly too much for him to handle, threatening to make him come undone sooner rather than later.

“Shit, I’m gonna…” Shaw rasps, barely finishing his sentence as he, too, cums, spilling into you.

Breathless and panting, you pull yourself off of him and stand up, your legs shaking so much you have to hold on to the seat in front of you to prevent yourself from tumbling onto the floor. Quickly, you reach down and pull on your underwear and shorts, a little bit relieved to be covered up again. Shaw is also breathing hard. He’s grinning at you as he buttons his jeans, then glancing to the seats to your left. There’s a few wet spots on the seat - the glaring evidence of your sin.

“You certainly made a mess, huh, Y/N?” he teases, leaning towards you, amber gaze burning into yours. “And not just the seats.”

Blushing furiously at the double meaning, you look towards the aisle.

“I-I’ll go get some paper towels,” you stammer, suddenly feeling the need for fresh air.

Running to the bathroom to clean yourself up, you return a few minutes later, several paper towels in hand. You wipe down the seat, hands shaking all the while. When you’re done, you ball up the towels in your hand, moving to throw them out. As you turn to leave, Shaw pulls on your arm.

“Hey, wait. The movie’s starting,” he whispers, holding you in his gaze. You turn towards the screen, and, just as Shaw said, the title screen of the movie flashes across. Something else catches your attention, and you look down to find another couple walking into the theater, whispering loudly about how they made it just in time.

You look back over at Shaw, and he flashes you that gorgeous smile, winking at you as you sink down into the seat next to him. He wraps an arm around you and you start suddenly, but sink into him. His touch is surprisingly comfortable.

“That’s definitely the best way to skip the previews,” he laughs, and you feel yourself smile, the devil on your shoulder winking at you and finally disappearing.

#mr love queen's choice #mr love dream date #ling xiao #shaw #mlqc smut #mlqc #mlqc fanfic #smut #shameless smut #mlqc ling xiao #mlqc shaw #mr love #mr love ling xiao #mr love shaw #fanfiction

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mamaneedsadrank · 4 years

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2021 =1st Rule of Fight Club

Oh. Hi. Its me. That spiritual blogger that gives you life advice and shit and drinks beer. Tonight’s a little bit more special. Do you know why?

Because I am drinking a 16 OZ can of Keystone instead of 12 oz. Big changes are a happening here people

I craved this bitch today. The Ice Cold Beery goodness just coating my throat with happy bubbles of really weak booze content.

Ladies, Gentlemen, Friends, Family and of course my whole 3 fans. I need to write more. It’s not even a want any more its a need. Spewing nonsensical things is fun, and therapeutic. I think I will do themed weeks. Aw yeah, bring it we are are about to get so weird in here, you better bring your safe words.

Or not, because this blog is written under the influence of my fav blue can. #Keystone why the hell are you not sponsoring me? Who else plugs you as much as I do?

So the Holidays happened. Good, Bad, indifferent they happened for all. I hope they were as wondrous as you reader!

What I can tell you in the last month after being Corntined for 2 weeks, not seeing my friends for months and doing the rinse, lather, repeat thing put me in a zombalicious mode. I think that funk is passing...Again, Key Stone you dirty sexy liar putting beer gogs on.

But no really. There are good things I want to throw at you:

1. Stop parent shaming one another. Everyone is going to do it different, and there is no right or wrong way to eat a Reeses. Remember that before you go judging Karen for coaxing her crying a kid with a toy. All young spawns of homo sapiens are different . They learn different, they like different things, and guess what? That’s okay. Lettuce try to just respect the differences, learn from one another and if there is a disagreement, of parenting styles, put yourself in a damn time out chair for a five, tequila and some breathing skills.

2. Listen more. We are creatures of wanting to talk about ourselves and throw pieces of our life into the story to be involved, but right meow, plenty of people need someone to just listen to them.

3. Hugs have healing powers. Hippie dippity as it sounds, hugging the shit outta your loved ones ( or strangers...whatever you’re into) makes you just feel whole.

4. Cats have really funny butts when they they are shaved after getting fixed.

5. You can’t fix everything.

6. My oldest seester is lucky she is so artistic, and beautiful because girlfran sucks at pool.

Okay friends, the eyeballs are getting froggy, and I want to play some Tony Hawk before I succumb to slumber.

XOXO

No I am not gossip girl. However..... Here is Blair And Chuck celebrating that thing we can’t talk about.

Goodbye for now.

#keystone #fightclub #gossip girl #we're having fun

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datingsimreviews · 5 years

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Hustle Cat

Hustle Cat is a Short but cute dating sim that lets you choose your gender and date either male or female characters!

Beware spoilers incoming!!!

Summary:

So first of all I’d like to say I very much appreciate having a game where you can date girls as a girl. That always makes me happy to see.

Hustle Cat is about a cat café which is actually a coven of witches. The employees are cursed to be cats when they leave the café unless they can figure out their own individual magic. Each route focuses on a character discovering their true selves, a bit of romance with the main character and their chosen partner dating and defeating this rust witch named Natch that’s trying to get the café for himself.

It’s a good game, but it’s very short. Compared to other dating sims I played each path felt kind of rushed, I wanted more information on the characters and more development, but I very much appreciated the fact that there were cute cats and that this was a very pro LGBT game.

Not everything is perfect though. I encountered a lot of bugs while playing which hampered my enjoyment. My game crashed once minimum every route. Luckily they had a great auto save feature so I barely lost any progress but it feels like the auto save feature was there for the crashing. I wish the crashes just didn’t happen. There’s also images in the gallery that are glitched or at least all walkthroughs say you can’t find anything because they’re glitched.

The protagonist:

Avery is our protagonist and you can choose their skin tone and gender which is fun. You would think that with so many choices this protagonist would be someone you could project on and all. And I’m sure it’s easy for some people to project on Avery but I had a little trouble because I couldn’t change Avery’s name despite the game not being voiced and the fact that Avery’s magical talent is trash. It’s funny to think about but it doesn’t scream epic to me. I like it, a lot of people would have the magical power of “bending trash” but I wish we had seen more of it. Avery’s never able to beat Nacht the rust witch on their own despite their forceful nature. I would have loved to see the power in the player character.

Avery’s fine though.

Landry:

Landry was the first character I romanced, a sweet and sensitive sort of guy who helps you during work. He likes building cat trees which is fun.

Out of all the guys Landry has the most backstory I think or at least, the most “feels complete” backstory. Landry is an Adept so he has innate magical ability that lets him see through glamorous. He saw a kid at a bar once who was a witch and was trying to be invisible and the kid cursed him in to “have his heart explode if he ever lost his temper.” He felt a burning in his heart and ran off and met the owner of the cat café who’s solution to the problem was to double curse him into a cat??? Idk why this guy’s solution to everything is to turn it into a cat.

Landry hates magic because of this so he’s reluctant to learn magic from you. He eventually does and develops powerful lightning magic. He finds the kid and after a fight the two talk it out and kinda become friends? Turns out the kid just cursed him to have heartburn for an hour and he panicked.

He’s pretty strong and I like the side character of the kid in his route. I also like how he and the main heroine love pizza together. His route feels the most complete.

Hayes:

Hayes is the introverted barista character. I always like the shy glasses types so I was really interested in romancing him, and it was nice to see his character type!!! He’s got horrible anxiety which is why he doesn’t really talk to people and enjoys being a cat to de-stress. His anxiety is portrayed as an actual mental disorder instead of just cute shyness and he and the main character learn good coping techniques to help him through it.

His magic is to…Make anything he speaks through Poems happen??? It sounds OP and I’m not quite sure how it works but I would love to see how his magic developed more. He liked writing poems but if he messes his poems up and can’t find a rhyme his body turns into static.

I love that despite his anxiety he loves big romantic gestures. That’s cool.

Finley:

Finley was my favorite character because her interactions and dialogue just felt so organic. Once the main character and her got into a romantic relationship her relationship felt like a real relationship, or at least something I would like to experience. When she thinks that the main character and her might not make it she asks if they live if Avery will cosplay with her.

Finley’s really into video games, and is kinda nerdy. In the other routes she ships the main character and the person they’re pursuing. She’s also just really bubbly.

She’s the social media expert and to get traffic for the café she’s become an internet famous cat because she can control what her internet persona can do to do cat stunts that normally wouldn’t be online. Good for her monetizing that curse for cash.

She can block people in real life or report them, that’s her magic. If someone doesn’t really care about the internet though she has to come up with a phrase that resonates with them in the same way #blocked does.

I also like how at the end of her story she and the main character become vigilante superheroes.

Mason:

Another lady character! And this time she’s the silent and buff type. I loved Mason in the other routes because she was the only one who didn’t learn magic and still stood against Nacht because he never seemed to predict someone would punch him and was just so strong.

She does end up learning magic in her route (fire magic) but I’m not sure why it’s fire. Everyone else had something else that mimicked their personality or what they liked to do besides Landry. Mason’s really into cooking and I thought she’d have cooking magic.

Her route was very sweet and made me cry. It focused on her and her grandpa and how he thinks she’s just a delinquent so they don’t talk anymore so now to spend time with him she’s been visiting him as a cat instead. It was sweet to make them close again. But it was also the route where I realized how short the game was, or just how short it felt.

Mason was sweet and I love the muscle-y lady type but I would have loved more development between her and the main lead. I just wanted a whole lot more.

Reese:

Reese is Graves’s Apprentice and the only one who knows about magic before all this. I always wondered in the other routes why he turned into a cat if the reason they turned into cats was because they weren’t practicing magic.

In his route you learn that despite his boasting he’s not very good at magic because he’s practicing his father’s type of magic- drawing. His father is a designer and loves to draw. Reese’s talents actually have to do with sewing though and he develops sewing magic, which lets him open up portals or enchant clothing.

I wanted to see more of his magic actually happen because I’m still not sure the rules of his sewing magic. But his route was nice. He felt like he played off of Avery’s stubborn personality well.

He’s kind of a tsundere and very full of himself. In the other routes he has a crush on Graves despite knowing him all his life so it’s nice to help him out of that. In his route you barely talk about his crush on Graves and it’s only implied in the other routes. It feels like there should have been more drama concerning the fact that he has a crush on someone else in his own route.

Graves:

The final character is Graves the manager of the cat café and the oldest character (I’m not sure how old but there’s definitely a significant age gap there). He’s the one who cursed everyone into being a cat and the reasons weren’t clear until his route. I was excited to see all the secrets be uncovered like why Nacht is after him and why he doesn’t really teach you anything and why he curses people.

In his route however it feels short and rushed. His and Nacht’s relationship is only implied. It could have possibly been romantic and Nacht was just a jealous ex who turned to hunting people because he was mad??? I’m not sure.

He explains he cursed everyone to be cats because witches can sense magic and they weren’t strong enough to defend themselves so he glamoroued them. And apparently he’s cursed to not talk about magic??? I’m not sure his route just feels so rushed.

He himself isn’t a bad character. He acts very gothic and vampire like when in reality he’s not a vampire or scary he’s just a dorky LARPer. It’s funny. His magic is cat magic so to deal with Nacht he takes Avery’s advice to just curse him into a cat. When his solution to everything before was to turn it into a cat. Should have come up with that yourself buddy.

His route was by far the weakest for me, not only because it felt extremely short and didn’t answer a lot of my questions but also because I couldn’t get into the romance. There’s this line he uses when he learns Avery’s 19 where he’s like “I had no idea, you’re so mature!” which is just a classic…bad line to make people feel like they’re older and get in an age gap relationship.

I feel like he could have been done all right but he didn’t gel with me.

Overall the game is a good game. Very short but cute especially if you like cats. I really wish there was just…more content in the game though. But it’s very LGBT friendly which definitely is cool!!! I’m always desperate for w/w content in dating sims because it’s rare to come by. So thank you Hustle Cat for that. And I’m sure other people feel represented by it too.

The bugs definitely annoyed me though. Also side note that I realized while writing this review, the gallery is very clunky and not organized by characters. And in a dating sim that’s definitely something that they usually have.

#hustle cat #dating sim review #lgbt dating sims

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mst3kproject · 6 years

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Abraxas: Guardian of the Universe

This is another treasure from the dollar bin at Wal-Mart, and unlike some movies I have acquired thus (Samson vs the Vampire Women comes to mind) it was actually worth spending a buck on. It’s bizarre and hilarious and put me in mind of MST3K even before it became a Rifftrack – and the Rifftrack is great. It gets off to a very strong start with Mike laughing out loud and going, “no seriously, what’s the real title?”

Abraxas is a Finder, one of ‘the cops of the universe’. His partner Secudus has gone rogue and is out to create a being called the Comator, who will solve the Anti-Life Equation. What does that mean? I have no fucking idea but it’s definitely bad, so Abraxas is sent to stop him. Secundus is eventually captured, but not before he impregnates a woman named Sonya, who promptly (and I do mean promptly) gives birth to her son Tommy. Abraxas is ordered to kill Sonya and Tommy both, but spares them – which just means that six years later, Secundus can escape from prison again and returns to Earth to claim his son. This is all set to music that sounds like a Kenny G. Christmas album.

This entire movie is just one big what. You can usually tell what they’re going for but the execution is always weird, starting with the title. Abraxas: Guardian of the Universe sounds like a shitty 80’s cartoon created to advertise a line of cheap action figures. What the film actually is, is a ripoff of Terminator II: Judgment Day, and nobody much bothers to try to hide that. There’s a precocious little boy with a very important destiny, his independent and protective mother, and two equally threatening burly dudes, one of whom is trying to kill him and one of whom is trying to protect him. A family dynamic forms between good Burly Dude and the mother and son, while bad Burly Dude pursues them implacably until the final showdown between good and evil.

Because the makers of Abraxas: Guardian of the Universe couldn’t afford to be sued by James Cameron, they have of course made a number of changes to the story, most notably using aliens instead of robots from the future, but the script gives the impression of having been written in too much of a hurry to get these changes right. For example, one of the rules of the Terminator universe is that you can’t take anything with you back in time, so nobody has any weapons or even any clothing from the future. Abraxas doesn’t need to keep this rule, but it does anyway, by ‘crossing the teleportation streams’ or something so that both Abraxas and Secundus lose their weaponry (but not, thank god, their clothes) on their way to Earth. There’s no reason for this, it’s only there because it was there in the Terminator movies.

Occasionally the movie tries to be funny. It rarely works – the only bit that actually got a snicker out of me on purpose was when a waitress presented Secundus with his bill and he ate it. The rest of the jokes just fall flat. There’s a scene in which one alien snippily informs another that “parsecs are not an appropriate Earth time unit!”, and it’s obvious what they’re referencing but that’s not the same as being funny. Another really bizarre moment has Abraxas telling some campers that the artificial intelligence implanted in his wrist, his ‘Answer Box’, can find Secundus by detecting his vibrational frequency, and what he actually says is “my Box has V.D.” Was that a joke? If so, was Ventura in on it? Or did somebody just think it would be really funny to trick him into saying that his vagina has an STI? What?

On a similar note, there’s a bit where Abraxas, sitting in bed with no shirt on, tells Tommy he’s going to tell him a story ‘about two men who were partners’. I’m at least pretty sure that wasn’t an intentional innuendo but man, it’s an icky thing for a large hairy man to say to a six-year-old boy.

The main thing people who’ve seen this movie remember about it is the soundtrack, which is entirely inexplicable. There’s one little strain that really does sound like the opening to I’ll be Home for Christmas on alto saxophone, and the fact that the whole movie happens in the winter only heightens the effect. This is the entire score, too – Sonya contemplates killing her child, then decides against it, to saxophone music. Abraxas and Secundus pursue each other through the woods to saxophone music. The one major exception is the song that plays over the final showdown and that’s equally out of place. What were they thinking?

Performances and casting are weird. Ventura and Sven-Ole Thorsen mostly come across as robotic, which is okay for nigh-immortal defenders of the cosmos but quickly crumbles when they’re supposed to display emotion, as when Secundus proudly addresses Tommy as ‘my son’ or when Abraxas starts to develop feelings for Sonya. I have no idea how old Sonya is supposed to be – an early scene with her parents suggests that she’s a teenager but Marjorie Bransfield (Jim Belushi’s wife, if you’re interested) is clearly thirty-odd and nobody tries to make her look younger. Everybody else is kinda low-level bad with one rather stunning exception, and that’s Francis Mitchell as Tommy.

Tommy never speaks throughout the movie, until he finally gets two words in voiceover at the end – this means that his entire character arc must be communicated non-verbally. We see that Tommy loves his mother, that he knows he has strange powers and is afraid of them and the harm he could do with them, and that he’s terrified of Secundus but doesn’t know if he should trust Abraxas either. Mitchell isn’t a brilliant child actor but he’s good enough in a movie where very little even rises to that level, and that’s fairly impressive.

If this movie has a point, it’s that there is no destiny – Tommy can be the Comator and bring about the end of the universe, but he doesn’t have to be if he doesn’t want to. He can choose how he uses his powers. This is the same thing Kyle Reese tells Sarah Connor in The Terminator: the future isn’t written yet, and our choices are important. In this one instance, Abraxas actually manages to make its point a bit better than Terminator did, because it doesn’t have the time travel. The story of Terminator was a closed loop: John Connor sends Kyle Reese back in time to meet Sarah so that John can be born. All this must happen because in a sense it already did. Abraxas is not chained to its own ending in this way, and so Tommy’s destiny is entirely his own without requiring a sequel to make it so.

This is also, as the summary implies, a film about rape, and the way the topic is treated ties in with the idea of our destiny being based on our choices. When Secundus kidnaps Sonya, he tells her I need your body, and makes it clear that he will use it with or without her consent. When she comes home with an infant, her father throws her out, accusing her of being sexually irresponsible. Sonya herself is tempted to do violence to the child who will always remind her of this traumatic evening.

But Sonya is actually a pretty tough cookie. She defends herself to her father, telling him she has nothing to be ashamed of. When she finds herself out in the cold, she picks herself up and builds a life for herself and her child, and she never lets the awful circumstances of Tommy’s conception colour how she treats him. Because Sonya raises him with love and support, Tommy is able to understand that his destiny does not have to be destruction. He can at last allow himself to speak, knowing his words will harm no one unless he chooses.

That’s honestly a really powerful arc for a movie, but Abraxas, Guardian of the Universe doesn’t use it effectively. The acting is way too bad and the situations far too silly for it to have an impact, and the ending focuses on Abraxas and Secundus fighting when it should be about Tommy’s internal struggle. Admittedly, external fistfights are way easier to film, but Sonya and Tommy are the emotional crux of this story, and after the arcs they’ve been through they deserve better than to be spectators at the end.

At some point in the writing process for this movie somebody seems to have realized that if Abraxas is going to be the main character he needs to learn something or evolve somehow, so that’s what they try to do. How do they do that? They have him learn emotions. Yes, it’s really corny. Yes, it involves falling in love with Sonya and deciding to retire and stay on Earth. I wonder… if they have more children, will they do it the human way, or will Abraxas hold a hand over her stomach while his Answer Box announces reproduction commenced? The other way they show us Abraxas learning emotion is having him argue with his Answer Box and eventually tell it to shut up, signifying that he’s becoming less of a machine, himself. The movie seems to think this is really funny but it’s not.

After two pages of complaining I need to reiterate that Abraxas, Guardian of the Universe is not annoying-bad, it’s hilarious-bad. In true B-movie style, its entertainment value lies in the disconnect between what the film-makers were going for and the result they produced. It’s much like Space Mutiny that way, trying so hard to be epic and falling comically short, and it would have made for similarly classic MST3K.

#mst3k #reviews #episodes that never were #abraxas guardian of the universe #tw: rape #90s

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atypical60 · 5 years

Text

Far be it to not take advantage of Oona’s pre-wedding events to not make it about me. OK?

Remember. It’s all about MOI!!!!

Anyway, last weekend I flew to Cincinnati for Oona’s Bridal Shower. You saw a sneak peak at my last blog post but I’m gonna elaborate more on the weekend.

And boy was this a fantastic Bridal Brunch!!

As the Mother-of-the-Bride naturally.

Number 4 is the only one Oona has stressed. I did that at her shower when we all introduced ourselves. My sense of humor got the best of me as I introduced myself as “…..as Oona exited my Origin of the World…” immediately, I was pulled aside and warned in a kind way to NOT say anything like that at the wedding. (shhhh–don’t tell but I don’t follow rules!)

I took Friday off from work because I wanted a true three-day weekend. That’s the thing about working in a low-level clerical position—you need permission to get a day off. In my other places of employment, it was much easier to finagle time off as a freebie—trust me. I also worked my schedule out to accommodate leaving early on Thursday afternoon so I could fly from Philly to Cincy and enjoy a few extra hours of fun time.

I also took Friday casual to Thursday! I travel in comfort, but not like a slob! J. Crew and Gabor wigs assisted me! Mother-of-the Bride travel attire!

It’s not how it started out though.

For some reason, either I hit horrific weather or I have a displeasure of a delayed flight whenever I travel. I kid you not. And about 45 minutes before we were to board the plane, an announcement was made that the flight to Cincinnati would be delayed.

Welcome to my jet-sit world. I spend more time waiting than flying! I have to say though, that Delta made every effort and boarded us very quickly when the plane arrived!

Besides having an inner hissy-fit, I dealt with this issue by stress eating not one pretzel, but an additional bucket of pretzel nuggets. Fresh and hot off the press. The carbs were murder on my gut but felt so good going down. I also ate a giant bag of peanut M & M’s. And read trashy magazines.

And an added surprise was that these nuggets of carbs were also drenched in greasy melted butter. I wonder why the scale isn’t giving me nicer numbers!!

The plane finally arrived and this Mother-of-the-Bride landed after ten in the evening to rain! I was two for two. A delay and rain. It was shocking that a snow storm hadn’t hit!

Cincinnati here I come…

To rain and a delayed flight….

Now…upon departing the flight, one would think I ran to the airport exit to see Oona and Sam. No. CVG is a GREAT airport. It’s so clean and spacious so I couldn’t resist dawdling (now we know where my son, Roman, acquired the gift of dawdle…). I came across a cosmetics vending machine! But I didn’t buy anything!

Why couldn’t I find this at Philly airport during the delay?

Then I came across my favorite part of the airport! Them bones!

Some stop to smell the roses. I stop to take photos at airports of skeletal treasure!

But it was great to be back at Oona and Sam’s and playing around with my grand puppy, Gracie.

My boo, Gracie. OMG. She’s so well-behaved..

Oona and Sam are such great doggie parents…I KNOW they will be fantastic human parents!

Friday brought sun and clouds and brisk weather but it didn’t matter. There’s something comforting in knowing that your daughter and her future husband can brew a great cuppa coffee. They make it strong—just the way I love it. And we sat around gabbing before getting ready and heading out to run errands.

The Mr. Coffee is far better than the grandpa Mr. Coffee we have at home.

Even little Gracie was beggin’ for some!

Ahhhhhhhhh…cawfee!!!

Oona had a nail appointment, and since my nails were looking fine, I passed but kept her company while we discussed family and the wedding preparations.

This freakin’ nail salon! It went on for days! I was jealous–but then Oona told me the price of a mani-pedi and I was glad to be living in the Northeast where nail salons are plentiful….and far less expensive!

Next stop was Marshalls –Oona picked some workout clothing (I didn’t –I’m lazy). And I headed for the cosmetics. Glory be to Gawd—I found two great eyeshadow palettes!

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More on these palettes for my next blog post but boy….at $7.99 each, these palettes were a steal!

We did some food shopping—Sam’s birthday was Friday and his family was coming over for dinner. Oona looked pensive as she realized time was of the essence—she had to head back to the airport to pick up her best friend and maid-of-honor, Lauren.

Did I say food shopping? I sent this pic to Bonaparte to validate that Pennsylvania is the worst state in the USA because of the State-run, Mob-type Liquor stores! You can by this at Trader Joes in Cincy!

And that’s where mom comes in—I assured her I could take care of the cake and she could head to the airport for alone time with her bestie!

BTW, this cake is gluten-free, chemical and preservative-free, sugar free, and lower-fat! Oona added Sam’s favorite candy–Reeses Pieces which are NOT lower fat nor sugar free! But it was a tasty Birthday cake!

Friday evening, Sam’s family came over for a birthday celebration. Being with Sam’s family is like being with……………. family!! We all had a great time and I was introduced to a spectacular aperitif/cocktail: The Aperol Spritz! This concoction of Aperol, Prosecco, and Seltzer with a slice of orange is the most refreshing drink I’ve ever downed!

You read it first. Moving forward, the Aperol Spritz will now be called “Mother-of-the-Bride”. There will be an open bar at the wedding but I may smuggle my private makings! There’s only 148 calories in one of these!

I drank a lot of them during the weekend. In fact, as I write this now, I informed the Frenchman that I’ll be stopping at the store for Aperol, Prosecco and seltzer! He is a bit upset that I am forgoing the beloved Kir Royal but the Aperol Spritz has less calories and with the wedding countdown, every calorie counts!

Saturday was a full day!

Let me tell you something. Oona and Lauren spent a long time getting their hair perfectly coifed. Lauren is great with styling and she styled Oona’s hair in perfect beach waves.

I plopped my Jamison wig on—and had extra time to loll around in bed! Oh, the beauty of wigs!

Jamison and Lilly Pulitzer. You can’t go wrong!

The shower/bruncheon was at LouVino, a Southern-inspired restaurant and wine bar downtown Cincinnati. What a great place! The celebration was downstairs in a private room and Oona’s friends, coworkers, future sisters-in-law, mother-in-law and relatives were in attendance.

The upstairs wine bar at LouVino’s. I’m recommending this place to out-of-town guests for Oona’s wedding!

The downstairs room where the brunch was held…

Thanks to Sam’s sisters, the table settings were beautiful..

Mimosas kept us refreshed and hydrated!

Oh yeah, and water (in the background) also kept us hydrated. The food was so great that I never took a pic–I was too busy shoveling the Warm Brussels Salad into my mouth!

We played girlie games. I won Scattergories. But the best game was where Oona had to guess answers to questions that Sam answered in advance. For ever wrong answer, a wad of bubble gum was placed in Oona’s mouth! It was a riot!

It was only natural that I took myself out of the “Guess the Age” game. I’m no cheater!

Miss Oona getting ready for more bubble gum! She actually did a great job. Out of 30 questions, she got 2/3’s correct!

The prize for the Scattergories win..a cute mug and a Starbucks card!!!!!!!!!!!

Some of the gifts. Crate & Barrel is very popular–eh???

Happy little wine glasses…

Happy little Oona!

The baking girl was thrilled to receive mixing bowls. Did I mention I gifted her with a Stainless Kitchen Aid Mixer…just like mine? I swear the baking is genetic!

This. This was on Oona’s wish list and she was so happy to receive this! (Hmmmm maybe she’ll give me her Mr. Coffee machine…)

BFF’s. They’ve been friends since middle-school. Two beauties!

This photo of us was taken after I was crying…

..and this is why. Lauren, Oona’s BFF and Maid of Honor, gifted Sam’s mom and me with embroidered hankies. Both moms were crying because it was just a touching and generous gift! I’m crying again!

I was very happy to be in attendance. Oona didn’t want a shower in Philly simply because she felt that asking my side of the family and her Northeast friends, was asking them to spend too much money—what with the travel to Ohio and the hotel, she wanted to keep expenses down for everyone. You know—I was very proud of her decision. I think I raised a very conscientious young woman!

And the fact Sam’s family has welcomed Oona really made me feel warm and fuzzy inside!

May I present the future Mrs. Butts. Coming from a very competitive family, it pleases me to have my daughter’s future last name be greatness such as this. When/if they have children and their children are in competitive activities, they can hashtag: #MyButtsgonnakickyours or… #Buttsbekickin’

Some after-brunch fun. Isn’t that dress adorable? It’s a Lilly Pulitzer..and those shoes! The daughter has great taste..and she’s gorgeous!

By the time we got back to the house, the rain came and it was time to head to Sam’s mom’s home for a casual, laid back and fun dinner!

And more Aperol Spritzes!

The recipe? Three parts Prosecco, Two parts Aperol, One part (a splash) Seltzer and an orange slice to make it nice!

Sunday morning brought forth a bit of a hangover and the flight back to Philly. Isn’t it funny how when you wish for a delay, the flight is on time?

Gracie was sad to see me go. I was sad to see me go!

Minimal dawdling on the return. There was no delay. WAIT! Does that say Air France? Yeah…but it’s the plane back to Philly…

And despite the timeliness of the flight home, I did manage to get this sweatshirt as a reminder of a great weekend!

I arrived back home Sunday afternoon. When Bonaparte picked me up, I’m not too sure he was happy to see me because he kept mentioning how tired I looked. He was right. I had a bad hangover FOODover, because of all the food I ate.

Yeah. I pretty-much crashed when I arrived home. Funny how I still think I’m in my twenties sometimes!

Do you ever get sad when you leave someplace and someone? I was incredibly sad to leave but after I arrived home and unpacked and got to telling the Frenchman about the weekend, the sadness lifted and I felt really happy. Happy that I was able to enjoy the weekend with my daughter and her future family! And happy to be back sitting next to my husband on the sofa!

And she’s the reason the weekend was a stellar one! My baby is getting married!

More Mother-of-the-Bride Fun! Far be it to not take advantage of Oona’s pre-wedding events to not make it about me.

#Bridal Showers #Cincinnati #LouVino OTR #Weddings

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flamboyantly-incompetent · 6 years

Text

Neuron, Ch.8

Bucky x Named (Mutant) Reader

Warnings: awkwardness, mutual pining, angst

Masterlist

Word count: 3,378

Note: Gifs aren’t mine, they will never be mine, I’m not that talented. This chapter was rough for a number of reasons, so, sorry that there was such a big gap between the last and this. Band camp and college started, and I’m so very bad at writing awkward things because I have to take cringe breaks... it’s... yeah.

Also - I changed my url, mostly because my roommate said something really funny about a gif and I just had to. But it does encompass my personality quite well, so, enjoy!

Bucky didn’t know what to do. He could think of several things he wanted to do.

Run. Hide. Jump out a window. Stare dramatically into your eyes until he turned to stone. Kiss you back, at least.

You’d kissed him, desperately, and you hadn’t hesitated a bit. Your hand in his hair, your fingertips on his skin, how gently your body had collided with his, it had all knocked the wind right out of him. It always came as a surprise how disarming your presence was, and when you appeared that morning you were the literal light at the end of a very unpleasant tunnel.

But he never imagined that you could have feelings for him.

Yeah, he wasn’t the Winter Soldier anymore. Yeah, feeling had returned to parts of his mind again. But he still had those nightmares. He still had to repress the instinct to kill first, assess later.

And, frankly, the threat alone that his mind could still be tapped terrified him.

He was still scared. He was still broken.

And how was he supposed to tell you that?

His good friend Shuri loved movies, all kinds. When she wasn’t inventing the world’s next coolest thing or being generally lovely, she was watching a movie. While Bucky was adjusting in Wakanda out of the deep-freeze, she had a habit of arriving now and then to declare that it was movie night and drag him up to T’Challa’s theater. She made him watch everything from Sabrina to Remember the Titans to the entire Lord of the Rings franchise.

Honestly, Bucky loved movies too. For a long time, it was much safer for him to feel things fully when he was feeling them vicariously, when they weren’t his and he could leave them on the coffee table when he went back to his goats.

He didn’t fight so tooth-and-nail against emotion, not anymore, but he’d seen enough chick flicks to know that if he tried to explain to you that he was simply too broken, that you were simply too good, you’d end up telling him some bullshit about how he was good too. Which, frankly, he didn’t have the energy for.

That’s why, instead of following through with any of the things he wanted to, Bucky followed you to Strucker’s office silently.

You didn’t know what to do either. Were you supposed to pretend that didn’t just happen? Were you supposed to tell... someone? As you passed the occasional recently liberated mutant, you pretended the floor was captivatingly interesting, hoping no one would notice the odd energy cast around you.

Bucky’s presence was loud in your brain, and you couldn’t say to save your life what he was thinking. He had been so close to you, waking every sense to high alert. It had seemed for a moment that he wasn’t completely disgusted by your sudden show of romantic interest, but his current silence suggested otherwise.

A whir and click were followed by a choked growl. You shot a glance back to him; he was glaring at his prosthetic and pointedly ignoring you.

He had every right to be mad. And, if you were honest, your timing was shit.

You just hoped you could go back to being friends after this.

When you arrived in Strucker’s office, Steve waved you over to the desk without looking up, frowning in rapt attention by a stack of files he sifted through.

“What’cha got there, Cap?” you asked, doing your best to sound casual.

Steve said nothing, but handed you the top file.

It was yours.

Heart beating quicker by the second, you scanned over the photos and notes of your life through years of surveillance.

“How long were they watching me?” you asked in an almost-whisper. Bucky gently pulled the file from your shaking hands.

“Since you worked with us in 2014. There’s a computer too, but I wouldn’t know where to begin for a password,” said Steve.

Bucky finally spoke, sending goosebumps along your neck, “Why did they wait so long to make a move?” He started rooting through the drawers until he found what he was looking for - a deep navy tee shirt that he promptly slid over his head. Well that solved one of your problems.

Steve handed you another file. On the top was a page that had a date and a single word.

“’June 14 - Nymph’?” Bucky read over your shoulder. His breath graced your neck. Jesus, could he not? “Does that mean anything to you?”

Still staring at the page, you shook your head.

Tony, Peter following at his heels, pushed Strucker through the door. “Relax, tin man, I’m going,” she grumbled. You locked eyes for a moment and she smirked, calling a number of unpleasant emotions from your toes. It took a great deal of concentration for you not to move between her and Bucky.

Steve ignored her completely and addressed Tony, “Civilians?”

“They’re out. Vision’s contacting local law enforcement now.”

Steve nodded, “Good, then the clock starts now,” he turned to you to explain, “We don’t technically have jurisdiction... anywhere, so we’ll want to be out of their airspace.”

Strucker spoke up, “Are you going to hand me over to the police, then?”

“No,” Steve said, rigid, “You’re going to unlock this computer.”

She shrugged and wriggled out of Tony’s grasp. Well that was easy. She clacked on the keyboard, agitated, when you noticed a glimmer of a smirk on her mouth. Oh, come on.

“Wait,” you said, grabbing her hand. She hit the enter key with the other.

A staticky voice sounded from the computer over a low beeping, “Unauthorized parties detected in restricted areas A, B, C, and F. Self destruct systems armed in 3... 2... 1.”

“Well that’s not good,” you remarked quietly.

Steve looked infinitely exasperated as he barked into his comm, “The building’s about to blow, everybody out.”

You turned to Strucker, who looked altogether too pleased with herself, “How do we disarm the system?”

She scoffed, “So you can compromise our operation? I thought you were supposed to be a smart freak.” Tony raised his eyebrows.

Agitated, you knew you shouldn’t respond, but you did anyway, “Smart enough to kick your ass, anyway.”

“Oh, please. Without your mutation, you’re useless. Admit it, as much as you want to deny it, you love the power it gives you.”

“Not everyone wants to rule the world.”

“You and I both know that what you want has nothing to do with your destiny. Tyrant.”

Peter cut in, “Um. Can you guys do this later?”

You said, “Shush,” at the same time Strucker said, “Shut up.” You stared at each other, absolutely seething for a moment. She was daring you to do something, to retaliate. It was tempting.

A low whine preceded a higher, faster beep. Shit.

Tony hoisted a protesting Strucker over his shoulder and yelled, “Let’s move!’ Bucky looked around, wheels turning.

He punched through the window with his metal hand, and the rest of the group seemed to get the idea. Peter flung himself out first, followed by Tony.

The beeping stopped. Shit. A deep boom echoed from further in and shook the floor.

You froze. This building was exploding. Exploding.

Bucky grabbed you round the waist and pulled you through the window. You barely noticed when the shock blast hit you mid-air. You barely noticed a lick of flame stopped by the suit. You barely noticed when you both hit the ground.

He coughed, “I’m getting the strangest feeling of deja vu.”

You wanted to laugh. You did. Instead, you sat up and buried your face in your hands.

“See? A useless freak,” Strucker spat.

“Could you get her outta here?” Bucky said, offering you a hand up.

Jaw clenched, you took it and said quietly, “Thank you.”

Steve beckoned with a nod of his head, “To the jet.”

Police lights flashed around, the building burned, people were wrapped in security blankets. You managed to conjure a smile with the image of Sharkbait explaining where his had been and why he would not be using it.

A man with a microphone flanked by another man with a camera barreled up to you. He said, “This is Ken Walter with channel seven news, we’re standing with some of America’s ‘Avengers’ at what appears to be a former Hydra base where several prisoners of Hydra have just been released.” The camera panned along your faces, resting on yours. Ken Walter continued, “We also appear to be standing with the star of the latest viral video. I’m sure you all remember the internet sensation dubbed Lady Neuron.” He put the microphone in front of your face. When he said nothing, he continued, “What are you?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” you asked, exhausted, “I’m a freak.”

“O-kay,” Steve grumbled, pulling you towards the jet.

You nestled yourself into a corner, as far away from Strucker, and Bucky, as you could get for the ride and turned on your cell phone.

You had some twenty unread messages, all from either your mother or your friend Raina. You opened your friend’s first.

“Hey, have you seen this?” “Den?” “Deeeeeennaaaaaa”. “Dude, are you okay?” “DENNA. THE INTERNET HAS GIVEN YOU A NICKNAME.” “Seriously, I just heard about the break in at Labyrinth. Call me.” “I’m getting really worried, Den.” “Your mom doesn’t know where you are either.” “Call her.” “Call SOMEBODY”

You groaned and waited for cell service.

At around 7:30 AM New York time, a new message popped up, “Why are you on the Italian news? With a bunch of superheroes? At least I know you’re alive...”

You began to tap out a response, when she called you. Ah, the joys of iMessage.

“Hey, Ra,” you said softly.

“DENNA MY BEST FRIEND REESE,” she screeched, “What the absolute hell? What’s going on? Are you okay? Who are you with? Have they been feeding you? Because you look... rough.”

You laughed in spite of yourself, “Take a breath, man. I’m okay-is. This is a hella long story, and I’m about to land in New York and still need to call my mother. Can I call you back?”

“Oh. Yeah. Sure, that’s cool. Listen, it’s really good to hear from you, I was worried.”

“I know, I’m sorry, I’ll explain everything as soon as I can.”

You both said your goodbyes, and you geared yourself up for talking to your mom.

At the Avengers tower, with Strucker and General Marino confined to their respective interrogation rooms, Steve pulled you aside.

“We need to talk.” Natasha gave you a side eye before fleeing the scene. You turned to face Steve, remembering your indignation from hours prior. “That was reckless.”

“Yep.”

“Then why did you do it? You didn’t just put yourself in danger, you put everyone else in danger, too.”

“We were already in danger. We didn’t have a better plan. We weren’t going to come up with a better plan and I was not about to waste time trying while maniacs were torturing people.”

“You still went off on your own, and that can get people killed, like yourself.”

“I’m not a soldier, Steve. I don’t do exploding buildings, I don’t do hiding in safe houses, I don’t do nothing when I can because someone said so and doesn’t bother to explain why.” When he didn’t respond, you continued, “I’m sorry that I have been putting your friends in danger. I’m sorry that I am not perfectly level headed. They’re my friends now, too. I’m not sorry that I did and will continue to do all I can to keep them out of danger.”

“That was quite the speech.” You sighed, exasperated. He clapped you on the shoulder, “We can agree to disagree for now.”

“What will you do now?” Natasha asked you.

You glanced around a bit before replying, “I need to go home; I doubt they’ll come after me after being on the news. Think you guys can handle it from here?” You pretended not to notice Bucky’s expression.

Peter grinned at you, “Hell yeah, we’re Earth’s mightiest heroes!”

“Kid, watch it,” Tony scolded, then he turned to you to shake your hand, “You did pretty okay, Champ, for a civilian.”

You laughed, “You know, Mr. Stark, I’m gonna take that as a compliment.”

You shook Steve’s hand next, then Wanda’s, and continued down the line. Bucky was last. He looked tired.

“Mr. Barnes,” you said as you offered him a hand that he took gently, “take care of yourself.”

“Denna,” he started.

You cut him off, wanting to avoid shedding tears by any means, “Don’t go falling off anymore trains?” He nodded, a melancholy smile playing across his lips.

As soon as he released you, you thanked everyone and said goodbye one more time, then got the hell out of there. You may or may not have cried on the way to the airport.

Before you reached it though, you pulled your phone out of your pocket and composed yourself enough to call Raina.

Her voice was agitated, not in a wholly angry way, just, Ra, as she answered with, “Okay friend, it’s time to talk. All of the internet knows about your mutation now; are you okay? Why are you with the Avengers? You got to meet Falcon and didn’t tell me?!”

Grinning through a creek of tears, the sound of her voice came as a relief, “I’m sorry I’ve been AWOL. I’m on my way home, think you can meet me at my place in a few hours?”

“Ooh, is it a pizza or fro-yo kind of conversation?”

You sniffed, “Dumplings. Definitely dumplings.”

“Oh boy, this is serious.”

The flight to Pittsburgh was marginally uneventful, but you did catch more than a few passers-by staring at you.

There were reporters waiting for you at your apartment, forcing you to fight and wiggle your way through them to your door.

Finally making it, you couldn’t contain any longer and shouted, “You all are a burden to the economy!” before slamming the door in their faces.

Ra, who had a key to your apartment and was already sat on your couch eating an egg roll, said, “They’ve been here since noon. I couldn’t get them to leave.”

You shrugged, kicked off your shoes, threw yourself onto the floor and tore into your share of the dumplings.

“So,” Ra continued, “Tell me about your day.”

You filled her in on everything from the moment Steve popped up at your job to the awkward goodbye you’d just had with a certain cyborg. At the end of your tale, you shoved your face into a throw pillow, and she started laughing.

“Den. Oh, Den. Why- I’m sorry, why?”

“I’m going to need you to be more specific.”

“You met a hot old guy. You realized you’d caught feelings. Then you saved him from Nazi’s. Then you kissed him. And then... Nothing?”

“What was I supposed to do? Hash out the details of my feelings in the middle of enemy territory? With Steve freaking Rogers, who is mad at me, by the way, literally right there?”

“I mean, no, but you couldn’t have found a better moment?”

You lifted your head just long enough to give her a look then plunked it back down. “He, I mean. When was I going to have a better moment? I just kept thinking about how important he became to me, and how he’d been away for a day and I couldn’t deal, and then how that nightmare was almost over, but that meant,” you waved your hands around, “I’d be leaving. And, yeah, I’m an idiot. But I didn’t want to leave having not kissed him once.”

When she didn’t respond, you looked up to see her grinning with annoying enthusiasm.

“What?”

“You like him.”

“I thought we’d established that.”

“No, I mean, you actually like him. Like more than yeah cool let’s get drinks, or I also love board games let’s play Life.”

“Dude, we played so much Life holed up in that house.” She hit you with a pillow. “Don’t get too excited, I probably won’t see him again. Maybe ever.”

“And this makes you feel...?”

“Sad. Relieved. Conflicted. What else is new?”

She sighed and scooted closer to you on the couch, linking your arms together. “Well, at least you can still play Life with me.”

Bucky had been in a sour mood since you left, and it had been a few days. It had been a few days of thinking about everything his mind could get a handle on, and it was getting to be more than he could wrestle with. At the heart of it all, he missed how easily you addressed heavy things, missed you. And, sure, he knew it was partially his doing, but it still felt wrong somehow. It didn’t help that his thoughts kept flickering back to wondering what you were doing.

In his and Steve’s apartment, he starfished on the living room floor and stared up at the popcorn ceiling. Why would anyone make a ceiling popcorned on purpose?

He didn’t even say goodbye properly. The whole team was there when you left; there was no good way to say what he’d wanted to. And with Strucker and General Marino in custody, it was unlikely that he’d see you again.

The front door opened and shut. Shit, he was supposed to be doing the dishes.

“Have you moved at all since I left?” asked Steve, a vein of humor in his voice as set an arm-load of groceries on the counter.

“I fell asleep,” Bucky lied. He jumped to his feet with a huff. “Sorry.”

Steve only nodded.

Bucky avoided his gaze and busied himself with the dishes he was supposed to do two hours ago. If only you’d left him alone with his feelings, he may have been able to stifle them. But you just had to go kissing him. He could still feel you, he could still smell you. And, while it wasn’t exactly fresh like a spring meadow, because apparently prisoners of Hydra don’t get to brush their teeth before an interrogation, it was wholly you. And then you stopped. And he was going to kiss you again; he hadn’t thought about it, he decided. But then Steve had given him a moment to think about it, and he remembered why love was something he’d probably never be able to have. After, though, when he didn’t and you had to say goodbye, he could feel how heartbroken your pulse was; he could sense it. Bucky cursed his super soldier senses, accidentally shattering the plate he scrubbed in his hands.

“Hey! I liked those,” Steve chided. He paused at Bucky’s frustrated expression. “Y’okay?”

Bucky worked his jaw a moment, “Yeah. I’m good. Just... I’m good.”

Not believing it for a second, as the locker room had surveillance cameras Steve happened to find at a very opportune moment, Steve played along and then sighed dramatically, “Shoot, Tony gave me the repo thing for Denna’s project,” he fished the thumb drive out of his pocket, “I forgot to give it to her. Maybe I can mail it, I think I still have her address.”

Bucky snatched it out of his hand with a little more force than necessary, “I-I’ll get it to her.” Maybe if he had a reason to see you he’d have the nerve to apologize.

“Buck, that’s like a six hour drive.”

“This is classified, you can’t mail it. It’ll help me clear my head, anyway. I’ll be back.” As soon as Bucky made it out the door, Steve let a knowing smirk conquer his face. Ladies and gentlemen, Bucky Barnes was smitten.

The takeout box of pad Thai you were working on was almost gone when there was a soft knocking on your front door. You groaned, throwing your head back to look at the microwave clock. It was nearly eight in the evening; there shouldn’t be any reporters lurking about anymore.

You thanked heaven you were still wearing a bra before squinting through the peephole.

James Buchanan Barnes stood outside your door, looking windswept and a bit guilty.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you said to no one in particular.

#MCU #marvel #bucky #bucky barns x reader #james bucky barnes #goodness this is a weird chapter #I'm sorry this is so awkward #and that it took so long #and it's unsatisfying #oh my #what have i gotten myself into

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ultraqueer · 6 years

Text

hey lads! i’m queueing this up for right after i go under for knee surgery tomorrow, so i obv won’t be able to respond to anything right away (as i’ll be Drugged As Fuck post-op) but!! here we go (the scene and a few more notes under a read more bc It Is Long)

i posted a lil something about maybe putting a snippet of my original one-act play on here for @duck-days and some people seemed interested, so here it is! i initially wrote this to challenge myself, as i’ve never considered myself especially strong when it comes to writing dialogue (or like... writing a whole ass play on my own lmao), and then challenged myself further by directing it myself. honestly this production was one of the best things i’ve ever done and i doubt i’ll ever forget it

a bit of background for anyone interested:

this was originally written for my college’s one-act play festival in april of 2018

it was selected!! yay!!! and performed at the end of that month

the show’s run time was about 40 min total

my beautiful actors got their shit together in the span of three weeks to put this thing on

i cried A Lot

this is just the first scene (of thirteen), plus the character descriptions, and i don’t intend on ever posting the full text online (i’m down to answer any questions you might have about it tho!!), but there is a recording of the show that i might put up at a later date. anyways i get hella emotional whenever i think abt this show so i’m just gonna shut up and let it speak for itself yEEt

~~~~~~~

POSSESS

CHARACTER LIST -

Nadiya King – College junior. A film major intrigued by the paranormal. Sweet, charming, and curious, but at times naïve or oblivious. Female.

Sloane Robertson – College junior and Nadiya’s best friend. Smitten with Nadiya. Intelligent and cautious, but often plays along with Nadiya’s plans. Female.

Desdemona – Spirit. Nineteen when she passed. Summoned by Nadiya, quickly becoming smitten with and possessive of her. Easily angered or made jealous. Female.

Reese – College junior and Nadiya’s roommate. Smitten with Brent. Outwardly sweet and a bit ditzy, but quick to anger. Female or nonbinary.

Logan – College junior and Sloane’s roommate. Cool-headed and logical; generally the one to get their friends out of a pinch. Any gender.

Brent – College senior, living in the biggest frat on campus. Known to be a “player” with more than questionable flirting tactics. Male.

SCENE ONE -

[An old, eerie house. The furniture and floor are covered in a thick layer of dust and ash - in fact, most everything in the room is burnt to some degree, save for one thing: a shiny, deep purple ribbon curled up on the floor. A pendant hangs from the ribbon. Loud laughter and footsteps from offstage, at which point NADIYA, SLOANE, LOGAN, and REESE enter. REESE is holding a ghastly mask, positively giddy, while SLOANE appears shaken]

REESE: Come on, Sloane, it was funny!

SLOANE: I came here to support Nadiya’s “research” - not to get jumpscared the second we got here!

REESE: But the timing was perfect!

[NADIYA leans her head on SLOANE’s shoulder, eyes wide]

NADIYA: We’re sorry we frightened you, ‘Lo. Can you find it in your heart to forgive us?

[SLOANE looks down at NADIYA and then away, blushing furiously]

SLOANE: I- y-yes.

[NADIYA leaps upright, grinning, and REESE claps her hands]

But I swear to god, if you pull that again…

[As she trails off, NADIYA and REESE move toward the center of the room, whispering. NADIYA pulls out a Ouija board, a candle, and a book of matches. SLOANE stares after NADIYA, until LOGAN taps her on the shoulder]

LOGAN: Real subtle, there.

SLOANE: W-What are you talking about?

LOGAN (to NADIYA and REESE): Alright, what are the ghost hunters up to now?

REESE: Well, you know how my aunt is flipping this old place?

[LOGAN and SLOANE nod]

And she keeps thinking she’s hearing things whenever she visits the property?

[They nod again]

Well, Nadiya thought -

NADIYA: What if we try to talk to whoever’s here?

LOGAN (chuckling, under her breath): Whatever.

NADIYA: Exactly, Logan! Or whatever might be inhabiting the house. Something must be here - it just feels… odd.

[NADIYA kneels on the floor and brushes away some dust, placing the board, planchette, and candle on the cleaned place. Her hair falls in her face, and as she brushes it away, the ribbon catches her eye. She picks it up]

NADIYA: ‘Lo, did you drop this?

SLOANE: Why me?

NADIYA: I don’t know, it seems like something you might like.

[She holds it out to the others]

Logan? Reese?

LOGAN: Nah, not my style.

REESE: Looks kind of gross.

[NADIYA shrugs, but doesn’t put the ribbon down, instead using it to tie her own hair back. She proceeds to light the candle. The moment forgotten, the others join her in kneeling and place their hands on the planchette. SLOANE holds back]

SLOANE: And you sure this is safe?

[NADIYA removes her hands, placing one on SLOANE’s shoulder]

NADIYA: Completely safe, ‘Lo. I’ve been doing this as long as I can remember! As long as we all follow the rules, nothing should bother us.

[Hesitantly, SLOANE puts her hands on the planchette, as does NADIYA]

REESE: Nadiya, you’re asking the questions, right?

NADIYA: That’s what I was planning - if you want to ask something you can, but in my experience it’s best to have someone who’s played before do most of the questioning. You know, just in case.

[REESE nods, and NADIYA closes her eyes. A beat]

NADIYA: Hello?

[A beat]

Are there any presences here with us tonight?

[A moment passes. Then, slowly, the planchette moves to ‘YES’]

NADIYA: When did you die?

[Planchette moves to spell ‘0-6’]

NADIYA: 2006?

[Planchette moves to ‘NO’]

NADIYA: 1906?

[Planchette moves to ‘YES’]

NADIYA: What may I call you?

[Planchette spells the name ‘D-E-S-D-E-M-O-N-A’]

NADIYA: Desdemona?

[A door somewhere in the house slams shut, causing the others to jump]

SLOANE: Nadiya, I don’t think-

NADIYA: Shh!

REESE: Come on Sloane, tonight’s finally getting interesting!

NADIYA: There was a fire here, in the early nineteen hundreds… Desdemona, was that you?

[The planchette is still]

Desdemona?

[A beat]

If anyone is here, show yourselves!

[Instantly, there is a large crash as the windows in the room blow open, extinguishing the candle. The others scream]

REESE: O-kay, this was fun and all, but I think I’m done.

SLOANE: Seconded.

LOGAN: Yeah, no objections here.

NADIYA: Fine. Just make sure you all close out the session properly, alright?

[The others nod. One by one, each student uses the planchette to spell ‘GOODBYE’ as they say it, closing out the session. As they do so, DESDEMONA silently enters the stage, standing directly in NADIYA’s line of vision.]

NADIYA [Opening her eyes]: Good-

[NADIYA locks eyes with DESDEMONA and stops dead. The others don’t realize and remove their hands from the planchette, leaving NADIYA playing alone. NADIYA hastily takes her hands from the planchette]

NADIYA: Do you see that?

SLOANE: What?

NADIYA: That! There’s someone over there!

[The others turn to look but see nothing. After a beat, they break out laughing]

REESE: Good one, Nadiya, you really had us going there!

NADIYA: What?

REESE: The door, the wind, “seeing” something - that was a killer prank!

NADIYA: What?

SLOANE: Prank or not, I really don’t like the vibe of this place. It feels weird. Can we go?

LOGAN: Yeah, let’s.

[SLOANE, LOGAN, and REESE exit, leaving NADIYA and DESDEMONA still staring at one another. Not breaking eye contact, NADIYA backs away, then turns and bolts from the room. Blackout]

#duckdays2018 #writing #original writing #original fiction #original play #my life #nic writes #possess #god i'm so fucking attached to this show it makes me emotional whenever i think abt it honestly

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bluewatsons · 6 years

Text

William Cheng, Taking Back the Laugh: Comedic Alibis, Funny Fails, 43 Critical Inquiry 528 (2017)

Eighteen days after 11 September 2001, a new season of Saturday Night Live premiered on schedule, making big headlines given how most other television programs were getting replaced by round-the-clock news coverage. The NFL and MLB called off games, the Emmys were doubly postponed, Rockstar delayed the release of Grand Theft Auto III (set in a fictionalized New York City), and Disney’s parks closed their doors.1 Entertainment across the United States—sitcoms, sports, rollercoasters—screeched to a halt, ground to zero. For SNL producer Lorne Michaels to reboot his laugh factory was saying something.2

Specifically, Michaels wanted the host Reese Witherspoon to say “fucking.”3 He told her to work the word into the opening monologue’s punchline, declaring he would happily pay whatever Federal Communications Commission (FCC) fines came their way. Although Witherspoon chickened out at the last minute (replacing the teleprompter’s fucking with the word balls for her joke, leaving the audience none the wiser), Michaels’s original plea conveyed how the arbitrary taboo of an F-bomb could feel ridiculously immaterial compared to the fire and brimstone a few miles away. With the world crashing down, a little uncensored fucking—scandalizing everyone but, really, no one—would have rhetorically embodied what all of the talking heads were claiming anyway: the country had been forever changed, no going back, no take-backs. After abundant media jabber about the death of irony, Michaels wished to send the message that, for at least one night, all bets were off and all laughs fair game.4

Fast-forward to 18 June 2015, the night Jon Stewart ran out of jokes on The Daily Show.5As Stewart told a stunned audience, he couldn’t bring himself to write funny material in the wake of the previous afternoon’s massacre of nine black worshippers at a church in Charleston, South Carolina. Stewart’s silent treatment made loud news. The moratorium on comedy flashed across the internet as sagacious testament to the stupefying effects of tragedy.

At the time, the respective acts of foreign and domestic terrorism sent shocks through the citizenry’s collective funny bone, exploding entertainment’s permissions and proclivities. SNL dared to make ‘em laugh; The Daily Show dared to desist. Lorne Michaels wanted to take back laughter (to retrieve it and return it to the nation’s viewers); Jon Stewart sought to take out laughter (solemnly hushing the audience and flipping the studio soundscape on its head). Opposite tacks, yet both got away with it, snatching praise and publicity for good measure … funnily enough.

Laughing out of Court

Remember the last time someone told you to lighten up? It’s a gut punch, a low blow. Accusations of “why so serious?” feel like serious attacks, striking at a core failure of character in societies ruled by laugh tracks, witty tweets, and punny headlines.6 Even (or especially) in times of strife, humor should presumably serve as fantastic armor against no-good realities. But this armor is not so much iron as it is ironic; for within neoliberal logics, people who endure systemic oppression (blacks, queers, crips)—who might have the leastreason to lighten up arbitrarily—tend to be the ones who are most exhorted to gain a sense of humor, to take a joke, and to laugh things off. A quotidian illustration involves men who goad women to smile, as if an unhumored female countenance (Resting Bitch Face) were an affront to physiognomic aesthetics and social mores.7

Yet when disenfranchised people do appear overpeppy or do laugh out loud, they can get slammed anyway. On 22 August 2015, eleven women (ten black, one white), part of a book club called Sistahs on the Reading Edge, were kicked off the Napa Valley Wine Train because they allegedly made too much noise while celebrating a member’s birthday. For the record, when the laughers asked the maître d’ whether passengers had voiced complaints, he replied: “Well, people’s faces are uncomfortable.”8 In other (or no) words, the maître d’ addressed the noise violation by reading into the passengers’ silent expressions. The incident birthed the hashtag #LaughingwhileBlack, a spin on #DrivingwhileBlack. For a persecuted population to laugh, this meme suggests, risks circumstantial vulnerability and sanctions. Because minoritized individuals bear higher evidentiary loads for propriety, mirthful outbursts can sound amplified to suspicious or envious ears. Laughter may be damning not only for the chronically marginalized but also for anyone in temporary hot water—a child being lectured by parents, a student in detention, or a defendant on trial.

Consider the 1988 appellate proceedings of State v. Parker, in which the court found the defendant unremorseful based on his laughter during the prosecutor’s statements. Although laughter can bubble up from all kinds of feelings and conditions—nervousness, despair, incomprehension—this court’s litigious hearing of the defendant’s laughter pegged the act as evidence of impenitence or even evil.9

Alternatively, take the case of Sgt. Robert Bales, currently serving a life sentence for murdering sixteen Afghan civilians in 2012. During the trial, prosecutors played a phone recording of Bales and his wife laughing as they discussed the case—again, a putative blow to claims of remorse.10

In these instances, courts assumed that laughter spills secrets, always saying something. To extrapolate from Miranda warnings, anything you say—and any laugh let loose—may indeed be used against you in court. Most recently, the public doubled down on its vilification of former pharmaceutical CEO Martin Shkreli, who, when testifying before Congress in February 2016 (on charges of price-gouging drugs), repeatedly pleaded the Fifth Amendment while smirking and looking “as if he were about to burst out laughing.”11

Here, just the look of suppressed laughter—no less so than any sound of laughter—sufficed to cement Shkreli’s reputation as “the most hated man in America,” racking up accusations of immaturity and douchery to boot (fig. 1).12

Figure 1. Martin Shkreli testifying before Congress.

Or rewind to the biblical story about the birth of Isaac. God tells Abram and Sarai, who are one hundred and ninety years young respectively, that they will bear a child. Incredulous, Abram falls facedown and laughs, enacting the first ROFL in Hebrew scripture. Later, when God repeats this prophecy, Sarai laughs to herself. God asks her (rhetorically, since He obviously knows the answer), “Is anything impossible for the LORD?”

“I did not laugh,” says the fearful Sarai.“Yes, you did laugh,” God replies.[Genesis 18:14–15]

It’s a classic case of He said, she said, except there’s little room for negotiation here; the He in this case is the final Word, the divine rule of law. Although Sarai tries to retract her laugh, God operates under the schoolyard principle of no take-backs. “Once laughed, a laugh persists,” points out Anca Parvulescu in her reading of this Bible passage. “God would not hear of it.”13 (Or, rather, God would not not hear of it.) Notably, both Abram and Sarai laughed, but God gave the latter a harder time. Gender politics aside, this discrepancy may owe to how Sarai laughed quietly (whereas Abram LOL-ed), as if attempting to get away with it. And if there’s one thing God can’t stand, as the Old Testament certifies, it’s people who underestimate his omniscience.

Such stories about laughter’s liabilities run counter to more common portrayals of laughter and humor as subversive, free, and empowering.14 Comedians and laughers, after all, often demand get-out-of-jail-free cards by professing something to be just a joke.15 The just in just a joke serves double duty, meaning not only only, but also fair, as in “all’s fair in love” and comedy. A homophobic punchline or an act of sexual harassment might dodge censure if the case can be made that it was performed in good fun.16 This is comedy’s signature alibi. Alibi hails from Latin’s alius and ibi, roughly meaning “someplace else.” With a license to kill, comedians are expected to boast, “Oh yes, I went there!”—there, meaning “someplace else,” out of bounds and beyond the pale. Comedy’s anything-goes exemptions conjure the Bakhtinian carnivalesque, a state of upheaval where “serious matters are suspended, things do not count, absolution is offered ex ante.”17 Comedic alibis can be so powerful that they drag errors and faux pas into the realm of respectability, enabling even the most egregious ethical or aesthetic failing to pass for … well, passing.18 Given how critical alchemy can turn just about any catastrophe into comic gold, the arena of risibility in today’s media appears virtually boundless.

For how many of us can claim immunity to comedy’s exculpatory rationales? Even Christie Davies, who has spent decades researching jokes and humor (in effect, studying why jokes matter), peppers his work with disclaimers concerning how jokes might not matter, noting that they do not “have any significant social consequences or express profound moral or existential truths.”19 Against the familiar notion of rapier wits, Davies insists that most jokes neither embody nor engender antipathy.20 A set-piece joke, he says, “cannot be used as a sword; it is merely decoration on the scabbard. Jokes are entertainment only, a mere laughing matter.”21 This said, excuses about levity don’t always succeed. Telling someone to “lighten up!” or “take a joke!” can fetch the killjoy retort that “you can’t joke your way out of this!” (an appeal against effectivity) or “you hurt my feelings!” (an appeal to affectivity). So while comedic alibis have potential to excuse failings of aesthetics and ethics, they might fail unto themselves—not least in the face of a hostile jury.

A familiar saying is that “against the assault of laughter, nothing can stand,” a Mark Twain gem uttered today in inspirational contexts (despite the lesser-known fact that it’s spoken by Satan in Twain’s novel).22 Beyond its advocacy of using mirth against malevolence, however, this quotation can be read another way: that when our bodies are assaulted by our own impulsive laughter, we show our cards and lose our moral credibility, leaving no leg—nothing—to stand on. If you snicker at a comedian’s racist joke, it becomes that much harder for you to scramble onto high ground because, listen, you laughed; the evidence is in the vibrations, right here (not someplace else, no alibi). Yes, you may argue after the joke that you were laughing cynically and knowingly at the structural racial injustices that fuel such cruel comedy, but by this point you’re necessarily on the defensive, carrying the burden of proof. In any case, having to say something was just a joke already implies that court is now in session, that some possible offense lies in need of retraction or explication. Complicating every aspect of the comedic alibi, furthermore, is the fact that people don’t always know (how to describe) why they laugh.23 And just as people hate explaining jokes, most loathe having to rationalize their laughter out loud.

In this article, I perform an acoustemology of comedy’s alibis in contemporary media. I listen for means by which laughter—its emission, contagion, suppression—can serve as audible barometers of how alibis either fly or bomb. A paradox emerges from the ways spontaneous-sounding laughter can simultaneously free us from societal scripts while shackling us within our own telltale, tittering bodies. A laugher’s accountability poses a moving target precisely because so much of comedy’s generic success relies on procedures of failure, impropriety, and breakage. Through three progressive cases, I delve into modern technologies of taking back laughter via the breaking and hacking of cultural texts. Each case features a do-it-yourself (DIY) phenomenon that exposes the stakes and choreographies of comedy’s consumer sovereignties: first, television fans who, through techniques of editing and recomposition, remove laugh tracks from comedies (The Big Bang Theory, Friends) or, inversely, add laugh tracks to dramas (Breaking Bad, The Wire), using the silence or surplus sound to break the show’s original mood; second, a YouTube game show that tries to make contestants break into smiles or laughter by presenting them with outrageous videos; and, third, Apollo Theater audience members who, through brash laughter and boos, use their collective judge-it-yourself authority to make or break the dreams of hopeful performers on amateur nights. All three of these examples hinge on the breakage of norms and the breaking in of new normals, embodying or eliciting laughter that may variously sound ambivalent, uncomfortable, or out of line. Lending a musicological ear to laughter’s stubborn materialities and technical hackability opens resonant perspectives into some of comedy’s funniest alibis. I conclude with a tribute to laughter’s Debbie Downer cousin: the groan.

Hacking Laughs: Big Bang Bombing

Bombing is the sonorous metaphor for the devastating silence that greets a floundering comedian. A maw of muteness engulfs the performer, turning an atmosphere of optimistic joybringing into cringe-worthy desperation. Just as bombs blast away landscapes, so bombing demolishes the ideal soundscapes of comedic call-and-response.

One domain of comedy where bombing remains virtually impossible is a television show with either a laugh track or a cued-to-laugh studio audience. So long as there’s no audio malfunction or audience reticence, every gag and punchline should fetch reliable, lively chuckles. But although producers have historically used laugh tracks to bestow this sense of liveliness and liveness, the tracks can strike a deadening tone. Slavoj Žižek says he experiences both catharsis and unease when he watches a show with canned laughter. “Even if I do not laugh,” he declares, “but simply stare at the screen, tired after a hard day’s work, I nevertheless feel relieved after the show …: my most intimate feelings can be radically externalized; I can literally ‘laugh and cry through another.’”24 Canned laughter—or, as Ron Rosenbaum calls it, “Mirth Muzak”—is as flat as funny gets.25 Ontologically, a recorded or synthesized laugh track is all surface, a veneer of jocund artifice; amplitudinally, decibels for canned chortles versus canned guffaws vary minimally, since television audio requires volume equalization according to the FCC, the European Broadcasting System, and comparable national broadcast-safe standards. Even at live tapings for sitcoms and stand-up comedy specials, audiences face flat-out restrictions in terms of how they’re supposed to sound. Audience members may be instructed to laugh and cheer as they normally would rather than in attention-grabbing ways. At a shooting for The Big Bang Theory, a producer told the audience, “Your mission is simple tonight—all you need to do is to sit back, relax; please do not identify your laughs.”26 This audience’s task was to mesh like a musical ensemble, to produce an orchestrated simulacrum of a laugh track (recorded, remixed, refined) for the benefit of home viewers, whose patronage remains, of course, what really matters in terms of ratings and revenue.

With either obedient studio audiences or synthesized sound files, a sitcom can opt for laughter as a formatted failsafe. No need for alibis, no risk of comic failure. But similar to Žižek, Jean Baudrillard has expressed bemusement at how “laughter on American television” resembles “the chorus in Greek tragedy,” such that “it is the screen that is laughing and having a good time.”27 For some critics, a laugh track already embodies affective alienation and failure. It epitomizes the potential falsities of laughter more generally, masking the fault lines of the homogenizing pleasure industry and its ransom promises of happiness. Technically, sounds of other people laughing in no way preclude ourselves from doing likewise. Yet this laughter, if heard as distracting or paternalistic or counterfeit, can seemingly yank the laughs out of our own mouths. Like a flat soda, a flat laugh track might leave a weird feeling on our tongues—all sugar and no pop, empty calories for the ingratiated body.

Although Žižek’s and Baudrillard’s hifalutin criticisms sound like familiar brands of Adornian spoilsport commentary, canned laughter has, since its inception, polarized popular audiences as well.28 One of the most picked-on sitcoms today is none other than The Big Bang Theory, which contains frequent and over-the-top laughs. Pushing against the show’s egregious laughter, fans (or hate-watchers) have lately experimented with taking out this laughter through basic sound editing and scene splicing. These tinkerers scrub out the laughter while leaving the visuals and narrative progression intact. The result of this DIY détournement is that characters’ japes crash into silences. A YouTube user named Sboss has released a series of such videos with the explanation: “Due to my hatred for the television show ‘The Big Bang Theory,’ I expose how unfunny the show actually is when you take out the laugh track.”29 According to Sboss (essentially a Big Bang truther), canned laughter is the shoddy alibi for the show’s comedic failings, both breeding and excusing unfunniness with a sonic smokescreen. Below is the transcript of a clip made by Sboss, a scene involving a drunk Raj on a horrendous first date with Lalita, an acquaintance from childhood.30

RAJ: [Smiles.] I can’t believe I’m sitting here next to little Lalita Gupta. [1 second of light laughter replaced by 1 second of silence, and so on.]

LALITA: [Smiles.] Well, you are.

R: [Smiles.] Little Lalita. That’s kind of fun to say. Little Lalita, little Lalita, little Lalita. [1 second of light laughter removed.] You should try it.

L: [Smiles.] No, it’s okay. [2.5 seconds of medium laughter removed.]

R: You have lost sooo much weight! [2 seconds of loud laughter removed.] It must have been difficult for you because you were so, so fat! [2.5 seconds of medium laughter removed.] Do you remember?

L: [Smiles.] Yes, I do.

R: [Smirks.] Of course you do. Who could forget being that fat? [1.5 seconds of medium laughter removed.]

L: [Smiles.] Well, I’ve been trying. [Half second of light laughter.]

R: So you’re a dental student. Are you aware that dentists have an extremely high suicide rate? [Half second of light laughter removed.] Not as high as, say, air traffic controllers, but then, there are far more dentists than air traffic controllers, so in pure numbers, you’re still winning! [Half second of light laughter removed.]

L: [Smiles.] Yay, me. [1 second of medium laughter removed.]

Especially for viewers who have seen the original episode, this minute-long segment’s omission of a laugh track can be earsplitting and mindbending. In total, thirteen seconds of laughter-turned-silence (almost a quarter of the clip’s runtime) blow a lot of dead air, a conversational vacuum made all the more awkward by Raj’s clueless giggles and Lalita’s politely rueful smiles. Without the noise of loyal laughers, Raj’s quips about obesity and suicide sound downright cruel. Barbs wither on the vine, and any imagined alibi of just joking! fails because no one is laughing. The gaping silences, however, cause the scene to fail so spectacularly that it stands to become funny on another level. No longer an aesthetically sensible text, the scene can tease laughter anew from the YouTube viewers who may find the metatextual manipulation absurd and subversive. Rather than laughing with the drunk Raj, we laugh at the laugh-deprived show. A taken-out laugh track enables viewers to take back their laughs, to reassert sovereignty over the choice of laughing and, moreover, to find humor in the bleak laughlessness.

On The Big Bang Theory and other laugh-heavy shows, part of what makes laughter sound fake is the rigidity with which it punctuates onscreen events: a character will say or do something funny, and laughter ensues (then stops); another character replies, and more laughter follows; and on it goes. Producers cannot afford to let laughter drown out the dialogue or excessively stall a scene’s pacing. Yet in real-life scenarios, people do not pause for laughter every five seconds, nor do laughers perfectly synchronize their outbursts. (Granted, if a friend tells a truly hilarious joke, it might cause everyone to crack up for a prolonged period of time, requiring people to catch their breaths; the point is, however, that these moments of dramatic hysterics are rare.) Tightly edited (or, with studio audiences, thoroughly instructed and choreographed), the laughter that erupts from sitcom one-liners boasts a sonic cleanliness in homogenized start-stop motions. At the same time, it is exactly these neat starts and stops that easily enable a sound-hacker to snip out the laughs without interfering with dialogue.

Even easier than removing a laugh track from a show is adding a laugh track using sound superimposition. One user did just this for the drama Breaking Bad. Besides interjecting laughter, the DIY video “Breaking Bad as a Sitcom” includes an upbeat musical intro, whooping cheers, a sentimental aww, genteel applause, and a cheery outro.31 The original scene is supposed to be unfunny, with Skyler White calling the cops on her estranged drug-dealing husband. Solely through sonic reframing, the affect short-circuits. Just a dash of well-timed laughter makes the scene funny. People have similarly added laugh tracks to shows and films such as The Wire and Schindler’s List (dir. Steven Spielberg, 1993), as well as to touchy scenes in sitcoms: Laura Winslow finding a racist slur spray-painted on her school locker in Family Matters; Will Smith getting reabandoned by his father on The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air; and little Stephanie Tanner mourning her deceased mother on Full House (fig. 2).32

Figure 2. Serious moments overlaid with (and undercut by) laugh tracks on (left) Family Matters (season 2, episode 20) and (right) The Wire (season 4, episode 3).

Popular descriptions of laughter as a contagious force break down in instances where others’ laughter (canned tracks) make us less inclined to laugh or where we laugh largely in response to nonlaughter (redacted tracks). 33 Such affective flip-flop bears out in an episode of the dramedy Ally McBeal, when Ally goes on a first date with a man named Dennis, who, it turns out, has a low threshold for what he finds funny and, what’s worse, sports a massive braying laugh. In fact, during the date, he laughs and snorts so loudly that he draws the attention of nearby diners, who stop their conversations to stare. Ally, meanwhile, doesn’t laugh; she is embarrassed. The next day, Ally tells her friend Elaine, “I spent the rest of the date either talking about AIDS or the Holocaust or Linda Tripp, the most unfunny, horrible things I could think of: anything just to make him not laugh again.” 34 Ally, in sum, was trying to use her words to remove the laugh track—the overbearing sounds of Dennis’s inexplicable (and admittedly machinelike) vocalizations. Alas, she failed to mute or hack him. His automatonic mirth had no off switch. So later, in the company of Elaine and another coworker named Nelle, Ally finds Dennis and tries to do the next best thing—goad him into laughing so that her skeptical friends can at least hear firsthand how terrible he is. After the women tell several jokes—eliciting several fake outs along the way, leading Dennis to chuckle only lightly—he finally lets loose his obscene, gargantuan laugh. As Dennis howls, the three women are stunned into silence, albeit with mouths likewise agape (fig. 3). Dennis’s dramatic exhalations (laughs) and inhalations (snorts) suck up all the oxygen in the room, while Ally, Elaine, and Nelle remain motionless, breathless, speechless. The three women fail to stop his outburst once it starts, yet it is also this very failure that’s intended to tickle the show’s viewers, who stand to be moved, like Dennis, to laugh out loud.

Figure 3. Dennis, Nelle, and Elaine in Ally McBeal (left to right).

For Ally, Dennis’s laughter turns out to be a deal breaker—unsurprising given that he breaks with conventions of polite conduct, breaks up flows of conversations, and sounds broken when he’s guffawing. Canned laugh tracks are bad enough. But a walking, talking laugh track? Inexcusable.

Laughable Games

Ally disapproved of Dennis not because he happened to laugh at offensive or discriminatory jokes (a would-be moral flaw) but rather because he laughed offensively and indiscriminately (apparently a far worse crime in the games of courtship). Confronted with Dennis’s outbursts, Ally and her friends understood neither what he found so funny nor why he laughed so much. Laughter indeed doesn’t always reveal accurate or actionable information. Its alibis and liabilities depend on legibility. A “laughing face,” says Murray Pomerance, “can indicate not mirth or release but secrecy, darkness, surrender, derision, and improbability.”35 Yet the point remains that when people laugh, their sonic and physiognomic excess tends to draw attention and thus to invite scrutiny. Because laughter can be hard to stifle, its leakages purportedly speak volumes, gurgling with confessional authenticity. The assumption is that people who are laughing may do so despite themselves, unintentionally revealing something in the process.36 For even when someone appears about to laugh (say, Martin Shkreli testifying before Congress), we might presume to know what they’re all about. Imminence of laughter telegraphs immanence of character … or so believed the tweeters and YouTube commenters whose hatred for Shkreli intensified at the mere sign of his smirking face.

Leave it to none other than YouTube—Broadcast Yourself!—to popularize the recursive spectacles of stifling laughter. Fine Brothers Entertainment’s React Channel initiated a recent series of YouTube videos called Laughing Challenges, which task contestants with suppressing smiles and chuckles while watching trending clips on YouTube. The slightest grin or chortle gets you booted from the competition. The winner is whoever keeps a steely face against the onslaught of humorous prods. For each contest, the camera cuts between twelve contestants and keeps an inset display of the footage that they are required to watch. Although, for the sake of fairness, all contestants watch the same series of videos, they will sometimes defiantly shout, “That’s not fair!”

upon breaking into grins or laughter at an irresistibly (unfairly) uproarious video. In one challenge, the contestants are shown a YouTube clip of a young man shrieking with laughter; some contestants manage to maintain a stony expression, but others don’t last long. The off-camera producer coyly accuses a young contestant: “Sydney, you smiled!” And like the Bible’s defensive Sarai (responding to the likewise disembodied voice of authority), Sydney tries to get away with it, protesting: “No, I didn’t! I didn’t! I didn’t! I didn’t!”37 Pleading to no avail, she is removed from the competition (fig. 4).

Figure 4. We (YouTube viewers) are invited to laugh at Sydney trying not to laugh at an inset video of a man laughing. Besides the laugh factor, the mise-en-abyme operates medially and geometrically (rectangular screen within screen within screen).

The bankable purpose of these challenges is primarily to attract and to amuse YouTube viewers, who are encouraged to laugh at contestants attempting—and failing—to refrain from laughing. Watching someone aiming desperately to preserve a straight face can be a funny yet disquieting experience. As the Laughing Challenge contestants try to keep from smiling or laughing, they show bulging eyes, flaring nostrils, quivering cheeks, pursed lips, and other compensatory contortions (think of sci-fi scenes where an alien is about to burst out of someone’s face). The gestural excesses born of suppressed laughter end up visually sonifying this laughter anyway, as pressures that normally would escape from one’s throat find weird release from alternate orifices and pores. But for all of their funny fails, contestants may occasionally astonish us with how adeptly they succeed in curating a staid, blank expression. “I seem like a really cheerful person,” a winner named Becca declared darkly, “but when I want to, I can be dead inside.”38 If Becca took any aesthetic pleasure in the carousel of funny clips, she let nothing show.

In the age of YouTube, remarks Sianne Ngai, “what we might call Other People’s Aesthetic Pleasures have become folded into the heart of the artwork.”39 Affective responses refract and percolate through a palimpsest of spectators and spectacles. Ngai parses the case of the famous Double Rainbow video, in which the natural wonder of a double rainbow became upstaged by the effusive response of Paul Vasquez, who recorded it; Vasquez’s response was subsequently upstaged by millions of delighted YouTube viewers, parodists, and media commentators. “Aesthetic artifact and affective response,” Ngai points out, “were thus conflated in a way that ended up doubly short-circuiting the original object of aesthetic appreciation and leaving it behind.”40 Watching a Laughing Challenge, we likewise redistribute our attention and affects among a panoply of funny things. Were we to describe the laughing game with the stock preamble, “The funny thing about this is …,” we would fail to pin down a singular subject. But in this carnivalesque melting pot of recursive laughter, would we really care to explain why we’re laughing anyway? Or might we feel content to let this resonant laughter, like a good joke, stand on its own and speak for itself?

A Laughing Challenge on the React Channel appears to be just a game, just for laughs: safe spaces to frolic and fail in the name of entertainment. As contestants suppress laughter, or laugh at themselves for laughing, or make a YouTube viewer laugh at the laughability of nonlaughter, the spectacle of heavy-handed levity is both positively intense and intensely positive. But the chronic bright-sidedness of these games belies the possibility that the stakes can creep higher than their ludic façades. Predictably, many of the laughable videos shown to contestants involve, to riff on Ngai, Other People’s Epic Fails: falls, face-plants, notorious groin hits, and the sorts of obvious painful acts long featured on clip shows (America’s Funniest Home Videos), stunt shows (Jackass), game shows (Wipeout), and Tumblr blogs. These are physical injuries and sometimes near-death experiences. They are serious insofar as there might be visible evidence of maiming and trauma. In one Laughing Challenge that showed a montage of various people getting hit on the head, a young contestant named Anita proclaimed (while keeping her eyes obligatorily glued to the screen): “You know these people can die, right? I don’t laugh at that kind of stuff.” Now, maybe Anita truly found nothing funny about sadism. Or maybe she said this out loud in order to stymy her own impulse to laugh. (At the end of the challenge, after learning that she had won, Anita asked: “Can I laugh now?”—then undammed a huge guffaw.)41

What’s revealing here is that even when an epic fail does involve injury, its outrageous goals of knee-jerk amusement tend to stamp out a spectator’s long-term concerns. Viewers do not lose sleep wondering whether a crotch-smacked jackass has gone on to suffer permanent testicular damage or whether his health insurance will pick up medical fees. By subscribing to the comedic alibi that epic fails are all in good fun, viewers banish the inconvenient specter of killjoy consequence. In order to justify our externalized laughter at someone else’s expense, we may have to internalize—conjoining Lauren Berlant and Susan Sontag—a certain cruel optimism regarding the pain of others.42 Comedy’s alibis effectively make the very genre of epic fails possible.

Sure, we might feel mildly ashamed when laughing involuntarily at a video showing a skateboarder’s agonizing pratfall. We might even wish we could take back our laugh so as to disavow guilt over schadenfreude. Yet the advent of YouTube has complicated the power gradients in spectacles of harm and victimhood. Especially when a laughable injury goes viral, the viewers can plainly see its stratospheric page hits and up-votes, which convey not only that many other people must be laughing at the same thing (moral absolution via mass participation) but also that this epic fail has already become too big to fail (with the subject’s fifteen minutes of fame compensating for whatever damages enabled this lulz-mongering celebrity to begin with). Alibis of permissible laughter therefore become that much tighter when there’s safety in laughers’ numbers and when we assume, whether rightly or wrongly, that notorious butts are willing subjects who are handsomely paid for their troubles.

To nuance these assumptions, let’s eavesdrop on a Broadcast Yourself venue that preceded YouTube, an infamous stage where performers have sought fame, risked humiliation, and funnily bombed time and again: the Apollo Theater.

Judge-It-Yourself

In the Apollo Theater, Harlem’s house of boos, comedians and musicians perform for a jury of their peers. Marion J. Caffey, producer of Amateur Night at the Apollo, sets the scene:

We offer [audience members] what no one else offers them—the power of the boo…. When you watch little old ladies, Eurocentric ladies and African ladies and Asian ladies, man, power up their boo? And they’ve never booed a person in their lives? And the freedom that comes over them, when it’s like, “Is it OK?” To watch that transformation in the audience where, by the last person or second-to-the-last person, they feel like, “Hmmm … I’m gonna try this! Booo!” And it’s a timid boo! Yet, it is a boo from deep within.43

Caffey’s gleeful synopsis of the Apollo audience’s internal monologue makes the people sound akin to the metamorphosed participants of the Stanford Prison Experiment or Stanley Milgram’s shocking tests. Apollonites’ boos burst forth as if exposing an impish, repressed drive to judge and condemn. On Amateur Nights, an audience’s prolonged razzes will summon the Executioner, the Apollo’s tap-dancing avatar who uses a shepherd’s crook or a broom to usher struggling performers off the stage.44

If you watch any video recording of the Apollo’s jubilant spectators booing an amateur performer, what you hear and see is, yes, booing (out of puckered lips and oval mouths). What you also see—yet cannot hear—is people laughing at this spectacle of humiliation. Funnily enough, an acoustemology here requires sharp eyes; the staccato laughter is visible but virtually mute, drowned out by the wall of sostenuto boos.Amateur Nights at the Apollo operate under the yays and nays of spectatorial DIY. With considerable sovereignty, audience members take adjudication into their own power-tripping hands and, if dissatisfied, use their vocal cords to terminate a performance and to hit Play Next on the night’s set list.45

But despite the garish sights and sounds of the Apollo’s apparent mob mentality, audience members do not always agree. A performance can sometimes split a jury, especially at the outset. A famous yet frequently mischaracterized example is the 1988 debut of a thirteen-year-old Lauryn Hill, who, on the televised Showtime at the Apollo (featuring amateur artists along with more established performers), sang “Who’s Lovin’ You,” the 1960 Motown standard by William “Smokey” Robinson. Most click-baity websites emphasize that Hill was booed, a delicious outrage given that she would go on to win eight Grammys. Few writers mention, however, that if you listen closely to the full performance, the audience’s response undergoes several changes over the course of just two minutes.

HOST: Well, come on, Lauryn, we’re going to love you! Sing for us! [The audience cheers and applauds; applause fades as Hill begins to sing.]

LAURYN HILL: [Singing.] When I had you, I treated you bad [audience boos immediately] and wrong my dear. And boy since you been away, [boos crescendo but are counteracted by a bit of applause] dontcha know I sit around with my head hangin’ down, and I wonder who’s lovin’ you. [Boos and applause mix and jostle; both die down by the end of the first verse, leaving only some isolated cheers and jeers. In the three beats of rest between the first and second verses, someone from the audience shouts, “Move up to the mic!” Hill heeds the advice and keeps singing.] I should have never, ever made you cry, and boy since you been gone, [smattering of boos and cheers; cheers grow louder as Hill takes mic off its stand] dontcha know I sit around with my head hangin’ down, and I wonder who’s lovin’ you. [Audience vocalizations begin to die down, replaced by people clapping along to the song’s second and fourth beats.] Life without love is oh so lonely. I don’t think I’m gonna make it. [Clapping continues; there are no more audible boos by this point.] Dontcha know I sit around with my head hangin’ down, and I wonder who’s lovin’ you. [With ritenuto in the song’s final line, the clapping stops, then turns into full-on applause and a standing ovation.]46

Although Hill persevered through her performance and won the audience over, she reportedly cried afterwards backstage.47 And who could blame her? Belated applause doesn’t erase the horrors of initial boos, which must have felt particularly traumatic for a thirteen-year-old. Simply from watching this video, you would also never know that an unofficial rule prohibits Apollonites from booing children.48 The rule shows a vague institutional acknowledgement that even comedy’s alibis and free passes should have limits. The fact that this rule isn’t enforced, however, implies the existence of certain limits to these limits.

Seeing as how the term amateur (amator in Latin) connotes a person doing something out of love rather than for monetary gain or fame, the boos and jeers during Amateur Night may come across gratuitously dissonant. But this gratuitousness is the point. Within the magic circle of the Apollo Theater, politesse has no place. Entering the Apollo is like entering a video game or a carnival, as players and performers acquiesce to an otherworldly domain that rewrites codes of conduct, rechoreographs bodies, and rehearses trials by fire. Granted, Amateur Nights resemble mock trials rather than real ones. Juries and judges (audience members) and executioners (the Executioner) exhibit high-and-mighty personas that, by virtue of their overblown kitsch, signal the relatively soft stakes of the performances at hand. This doesn’t mean that boos can’t sting; it means that, in a colosseum where boos are part of the game, the consequences can seem diminutive because they operate prima facie under the comedic alibi, a vindication predicated on the phenomenal pleasures of aesthetic judgment and the consensual funniness of a booed, bombing artist.

As with Laughing Challenges, epic fails, and quandaries of sadism, the comedic alibi draws strength from the assumption that if enough people are laughing—if something is sufficiently funny by consensus—then the burden of responsibility becomes diffuse, soothing moral qualms along the way. Beyond the Apollo Theater, audiences’ cheers and laughter have long resounded as beacons of populist metrics. A clap-o-meter on the 1950s game show Opportunity Knocks claimed to measure audience response, though the machine was operated by a hidden person who manually turned the dial according to his own estimate of applause volumes. On America’s Got Talent (now in its eleventh season), the audience can boo and flash thumbs-downs to encourage judges to terminate a contestant’s audition. Off the live stage, there’s the well-named example of Funny or Die, a comedy website (founded by Will Ferrell and Adam McKay) that shows humorous videos open to viewers’ votes. If a video receives ample votes, it is deemed “funny” and stays on the main site; if it receives insufficient votes, it “dies” and descends into the website’s Crypt.49Like Reddit and other judge-it-yourself sites (along with, more generally, any online content algorithmically curated by search engine optimization), the game here is natural selection, where nonspreadability means virtual death. On a site such as Funny or Die, the binary system of up-voting or down-voting comes with the added benefit of obviating the need for anyone to elaborate on why a video passes as funny. If a video lives or dies, it is because the people have spoken and, in turn, because the humorous intricacies of the video need not be spoken. Systemically, the humor goes unexplained—which is, of course, how good jokes are said to remain.

Even as consumers today vote with their laughs, majority opinions leave room for dissent. Boos! might bump against Bravos! in the Apollo Theater, while trolls make their obligatory clamor on comment threads of beloved viral artifacts. In comedy reception, there’s also a sound that, within itself, personifies ambivalence and contradiction—laughter’s abject countersign: the groan.

Coda: Fade to Groan

Midway through the documentary Saturday Night Live in the 2000s: Time and Again, we see clips of past SNL sketches that pushed the limits of political correctness. One sketch involved Ben Affleck yelling at a “mentally challenged guy” (Fred Armisen) to shut up; another featured Jon Hamm encountering a grown-up trick-or-treater (Will Forte) “dressed up” as a sex offender.50 Former cast member Horatio Sanz reflected on the studio audience’s mixed reactions to these edgy moments: “What it would take to offend us [the cast] is a lot higher than I think most people. So when we hear groans in the audience, we kind of like it. If the laughter stops, then we don’t like it. But a groan and a laugh is probably the best thing you could ever ask for!”51 Groans mixed into laughter is like spice added to something nice, signaling affective equilibrium or illusions thereof.

For all of the critical thought devoted to laughter, it’s funny that groans have received almost no consideration. Groans are a regular and vital component of audiences’ responses to stand-up comedy, SNL, and talk show monologues. Superficially, a groan voices moral or aesthetic disapproval, suggesting that the comic has stepped out of bounds or failed to land a punchline. But as with the Apollo audience’s reactions to Lauryn Hill, the time-lapse soundscape is complicated whenever groans are involved: typically, a foul joke or bad pun will draw sharp laughter, followed by some groans (from audience members realizing belatedly that such material might not merit laughter), then more groans (with recognition of faux pas catching on), and then finally yielding a reuptake of laughter at the situational humor of this very quandary.52 These reactions launch a boomerang of affective display, a graceful A-B-A ternary form that affirms the comedy’s success, after all. In short, the game of groans is long exposure. A groan can’t erase a prior laugh but demonstrates an effort to take back the laugh—that is, not through subtraction but through the addition of a neutralizing or mitigating agent. Short of being able to turn back time (or to snip out a laugh track with the click of a mouse), a groan is the next best thing.53

So that you have a sense of your own body, try this: force yourself to laugh (it will likely sound artificial), listening as you do so, and then attempt to stop abruptly. How did your body feel at the moment of cessation? Probably uncomfortable, even vaguely painful. Now laugh again, but this time, let it give way to a groan, as if you’ve just heard someone’s joke, chuckled instinctively, then realized a second later that the joke is misogynistic and that you better stifle your outburst lest nearby people judge you. Chances are you found this second routine far easier on your lungs, throat, and mind. Physiologically, this is because a laugh-turned-groan involves a guttural quick-change with respiratory continuity. (Groaning merely takes the pulsations out of laughter’s exhalations.) It’s an awkward yet manageable transition, an exercise in glottal backpedaling that oozes apology and ambivalence. Admittedly, no less funny than the feeling of a groan is how groans sound. We stylize groans as monotone; while the utterance fades from loud to soft, the pitch stays mostly the same. A person groaning can thus sound almost nonhuman, like a machine emitting an error tone (indicating uncertainty over how to process the input of a joke). Maybe, then, groans have flown under our critical sonar in part because they come off as literal noise, plain and simple. Unlike bubbly laughter (music to the ears), groans sound and feel flat.

Any time we laugh, boo, or groan—inappropriately, inopportunely, involuntarily—the utterance vibrates stubbornly in the air, admissible as exhibit A to all who care to judge. Like touchy speech acts or an embarrassing text message that you regret immediately upon hitting Send, take-backs are technically impossible. Life isn’t a courtroom. We can’t officially ask to strike a line or a laugh from the record. Yet in the wake of offensive jokes, injuries, or even national catastrophes, people have simultaneously found reasons to laugh and not to laugh (recall the contrasting cases of post-9/11 SNL and post-Charleston The Daily Show) because with laughter, reason isn’t necessarily the point. Not only can laughter signify generously, but its verdict is also rarely final. Appeals abound, for even though the echoes of a laugh cannot be materially retracted, its hermeneutic terminus remains a shifting target.

Laughter isn’t always overflowing with intense secrets. Anyone claiming that a joke is just a joke could likewise insist that a laugh is just a laugh—a syntactic tautology working double duty as moral alibi. Minding the sociopolitical stakes of laughing out loud means recognizing how different people shoulder differing burdens of sonic, gestural, and physiognomic propriety and, by extension, how people face variable charges and convictions amid the difficulties of taking back a laugh. Given how laughing bugs can infect any of us, we should know that we don’t always know why people laugh. Modern hackers of laughter are producing humorous artifacts and performances that make such uncertainties wilder than ever. If laughter both begs inquiry and calls for interpretative forfeit, then it perpetually pleads alibis through its own semantic promiscuity. From one moment to the next, auditors of laughter might be tasked with condemning or forgiving a laugher, choosing between austere suspicion and benefit of the doubt. Resonating in our collective chuckle huts may be the funny feeling that, when we opt to humor others’ laughable excuses, we stand to be humored in kind.

Notes

1. See Scott Weems, Ha! The Science of When We Laugh and Why (New York, 2014), p. 52; Chris A. Kramer, “An Existentialist Account of the Role of Humor against Oppression,” Humor 26 (Oct. 2013): 629–51; Trevor J. Blank, The Last Laugh: Folk Humor, Celebrity Culture, and Mass-Mediated Disasters in the Digital Age (Madison, Wis., 2013), pp. 38–56; and Bill Ellis, “Making a Big Apple Crumble: The Role of Humor in Constructing a Global Response to Disaster,” in Of Corpse: Death and Humor in Folklore and Popular Culture, ed. Peter Narváez (Logan, Utah, 2003), pp. 35–79.

2. A well-known portion of this SNL premiere was the appearance of Mayor Rudolf Giuliani, to whom Lorne Michaels posed the question: “Can we be funny?” Giuliani deadpanned: “Why start now?”

3. Witherspoon’s tame joke featured a baby polar bear repeatedly asking his mom whether he’s really a polar bear. When the mom inquires why he keeps wondering this, he replies, “Because I’m fucking freezing!”—or, as Witherspoon told it, “Because I’m freezing my balls off!” (“Reese Witherspoon / Alicia Keys,” Saturday Night Live, 29 Sept. 2011).

4. See Eric Randall, “The ‘Death of Irony,’ and Its Many Reincarnations,” The Wire, 9 Sept. 2011, www.thewire.com/national/2011/09/death-irony-and-its-many-reincarnations/42298

5. See Ed Mazza, “Jon Stewart Says He Can’t Tell Jokes after Charleston Church Shooting,” Huffington Post, 19 June 2015, www.huffingtonpost.com/2015/06/18/jon-stewart-charleston-no-jokes_n_7618110.html

6. On stereotypes of the humorless feminist, see Mary Ann Doane, “Masquerade Reconsidered: Further Thoughts on the Female Spectator,” Discourse 11 (Fall–Winter 1988–89): 50. See also Judith Butler, “Feminism by Any Other Name,” interview by Rosi Braidotti, Differences 6 (1994): 27–61; Wendy Brown, “Resisting Left Melancholy,” Boundary 2 26 (1999): 19–27; and Sara Ahmed, “Feminist Killjoys (and Other Willful Subjects),” The Scholar and Feminist Online 8 (2010), sfonline.barnard.edu/polyphonic/print_ahmed.html

7. See Jessica Bennett, “I’m Not Mad. That’s Just My RBF,” New York Times, 1 Aug. 2015, www.nytimes.com/2015/08/02/fashion/im-not-mad-thats-just-my-resting-b-face.html?_r=0

8. Victoria Bond, “Dear White People, Laughing Is Not a Crime,” Al Jazeera America, 28 Aug. 2015, america.aljazeera.com/opinions/2015/8/dear-white-people-laughing-is-not-a-crime.html, emphasis added.

9. See Bryan H. Ward, “Sentencing without Remorse,” Loyola University Chicago Law Journal38 (Fall 2006): 151. The case was State v. Parker, 373 S.E.2d 558, 559 (N.C. Ct. App. 1988).

10. See Lewis Kamb, “Bales Faces Survivors of His Afghan Rampage,” Seattle Times, 20 Aug. 2013, www.seattletimes.com/seattle-news/bales-faces-survivors-of-his-afghan-rampage

11. Linette Lopez, “Martin Shkreli Could Not Stop Laughing during His Testimony to Congress,” Business Insider, 4 Feb. 2016, www.businessinsider.com/live-martin-shkreli-the-ceo-of-valeant-and-others-face-congress-2016-2

12. Zoe Thomas and Tim Swift, “Who Is Martin Shkreli—’the Most Hated Man in America’?” BBC, 3 Sept. 2015, www.bbc.com/news/world-us-canada-34331761

13. Anca Parvulescu, Laughter: Notes on a Passion (Cambridge, Mass., 2010), p. 18.

14. Gaëtan Brulotte, for example, insists on laughter’s wholesale subversiveness in this grandiose manner: “With laughter, the social machine creaks, its herd-like unanimity falters, its habitual cohesion breaks up, and its mechanical reactions break down” (Gaëtan Brulotte, “Laughing at Power,” in Laughter and Power, ed. John Parkin and John Phillips [Oxford, 2006], p. 15).

15. See Anthony Julius, Transgressions: The Offenses of Art (London, 2002), pp. 25–26. Closely related is what I’ve termed the “ludic alibi,” the excuse used by offenders who claim that they’re just playing a game, just horsing around; see William Cheng, Sound Play: Video Games and the Musical Imagination (New York, 2014), pp. 6–8, 130–32.

16. See Julie A. Woodzicka et al., “It’s Just a (Sexist) Joke: Comparing Reactions to Sexist versus Racist Communications,” Humor 28 (May 2015): 289–309; Elise Kramer, “The Playful Is Political: The Metapragmatics of Internet Rape-Joke Arguments,” Language in Society 40 (Apr. 2011): 137–68; and Michael Billig, Laughter and Ridicule: Towards a Critique of Humour(London, 2005), pp. 1–6, 11–21.

17. F. H. Buckley, The Morality of Laughter (Ann Arbor, Mich., 2005), p. 35. See also Muhammad A. Badarneh, “Carnivalesque Politics: A Bakhtinian Case Study of Contemporary Arab Political Humor,” Humor 24 (Aug. 2011): 305–27, and Lisa Gabbert and Antonio Salud II, “On Slanderous Words and Bodies-out-of-Control: Hospital Humor and the Medical Carnivalesque,” in The Body in Medical Culture, ed. Elizabeth Klaver (Albany, N.Y., 2009), pp. 209–27.

18. See J. L. Austin, “A Plea for Excuses: The Presidential Address,” Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society 57 (1956–1957): 1–30.

19. Christie Davies, Jokes and Targets (Indianapolis, 2011), p. 2.

20. See Egon Larsen, Wit as a Weapon: Political Joke in History (London, 1980), and Hans Speier, “Wit and Politics: An Essay on Power and Laughter” (1975), trans. and ed. Robert Jackall, American Journal of Sociology 103 (Mar. 1998): 1354.

21. Davies, Jokes and Targets, p. 267.

22. Mark Twain, The Mysterious Stranger (New York, 1916), p. 142. Immediately preceding this line, Satan says: “Power, money, persuasion, supplication, persecution—these can lift at a colossal humbug—push it a little—weaken it a little, century by century; but only laughter can blow it to rags and atoms at a blast” (ibid.).

23. See Peter Jelavich, “When Are Jewish Jokes No Longer Funny? Ethnic Humour in Imperial and Republican Berlin,” in The Politics of Humour: Laughter, Inclusion, and Exclusion in the Twentieth Century, ed. Martina Kessel and Patrick Merziger (Toronto, 2012), p. 24.

24. Slavoj Žižek, The Plague of Fantasies (London, 2008), p. 141.

25. Ron Rosenbaum, “Kanned Laffter,” in Media Culture: Television, Radio, Records, Books, Magazines, Newspapers, Movies, ed. James Monaco (New York, 1978), p. 137.

26. “The Big Bang Theory—Live Show Taping HD 720p,” YouTube, 1 Mar. 2014, www.youtube.com/watch?v=pEKm54STV2Q

27. Quoted in Mike Gane, “Baudrillard’s Sense of Humour,” Jean Baudrillard: Fatal Theories, ed. David B. Clarke et al. (1986; London, 2009), pp. 171, 172. See also Jacob Smith, Vocal Tracks: Performance and Sound Media (Berkeley, 2008), pp. 15–49; Parvulescu, Laughter, pp. 146–48; and Darragh McManus, “No Laughing Matter: Silence Is Golden When It Comes to Comedy TV Shows,” The Guardian, 24 Mar. 2010, www.theguardian.com/tv-and-radio/tvandradioblog/2010/mar/24/canned-laughter-track

28. See Max Horkheimer and Theodor Adorno, Dialectic of Enlightenment: Philosophical Fragments, trans. Edmund Jephcott ed. Gunzelin Schmid Noerr, (Stanford, Calif., 2002), p. 112, and Esther Leslie, Hollywood Flatlands: Animation, Critical Theory, and the Avant-garde(London, 2002), pp. 178–79.

29. “The Big Bang Theory—No Laugh Track 1 (Avoiding the Shamy),” YouTube, 2 Jan. 2012, www.youtube.com/watch?v=jKS3MGriZcs

30. “The Big Bang Theory—No Laugh Track 2 (Raj Is a Dick),” YouTube, 4 Jan. 2012, www.youtube.com/watch?v=dffCCSb1JCo

31. See “Breaking Bad as a Sitcom,” YouTube, 12 Sept. 2011, www.youtube.com/watch?v=-6v-ApehVbc

32. See “Inappropriate Laugh Track,” YouTube, 16 Apr. 2013, www.youtube.com/watch?v=iZjP_IoxCHU, and “Inappropriate Laugh Track 2,” YouTube, 13 Nov. 2013, www.youtube.com/watch?v=WSvkkTWrRGo

33. Various recent videos show everyday people transmitting laughter to one another, typically in enclosed and resonant spaces such as subway cars (effectively, viral videos about viral laughter); see the humorously titled “Contagious Laughter Is Contagious,” YouTube, 29 Nov. 2012, www.youtube.com/watch?v=fM45JMTpkBU

34. “In Search of Pygmies,” 14 Feb. 2000, Ally McBeal.

35. Murray Pomerance, “Introduction: The Great Corrective,” in The Last Laugh: Strange Humors of Cinema, ed. Pomerance (Detroit, 2013), p. 1.

36. See Mikita Brottman, Funny Peculiar: Gershon Legman and the Psychopathology of Humor(New York, 2004), p. 66.

37. “Try to Watch This without Laughing or Grinning #2,” YouTube, 23 Apr. 2015, www.youtube.com/watch?v=mxjjhQcODUE.

38. “Try to Watch This without Laughing or Grinning #5,” YouTube, 16 July 2015, www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ss39UktpXk0

39. Sianne Ngai, Our Aesthetic Categories: Zany, Cute, Interesting (Cambridge, Mass., 2012), p. 28.

40. Ibid.

41. “Try to Watch This without Laughing or Grinning #16,” YouTube, 4 Feb. 2016, www.youtube.com/watch?v=ed7BhyZrGaA&index=1&list=PL73YndQawY3PB6odG3R5ThUElhxBw8xaS

42. See Lauren Berlant, Cruel Optimism (Durham, N.C., 2011), pp. 3–6, and Susan Sontag, Regarding the Pain of Others (London, 2004), pp. 95–103.

43. Quoted in Christopher R. Weingarten, “Amateur Night at the Apollo: Behind the Boos of America’s Toughest Crowd,” Rolling Stone, 11 Mar. 2015, www.rollingstone.com/music/features/amateur-night-at-the-apollo-behind-the-boos-of-americas-toughest-crowd-20150311

44. Earlier incarnations of the Executioner included the Porto Rico and the Sandman.

45. On the declines and renaissances of audience sovereignty, see Richard Butsch, The Making of American Audiences: From Stage to Television, 1750–1990 (Cambridge, 2000), pp. 57–65; Danilyn Rutherford, Laughing at Leviathan: Sovereignty and Audience in West Papua (Chicago, 2012), pp. 10–22; and James H. Johnson, Listening in Paris: A Cultural History (Berkeley, 1996), pp. 228–35.

46. “Lauryn Hill at 13 Dings Who’s Lovin’ You (Amateur Night at the Apollo),” YouTube, 6 Feb. 2009, www.youtube.com/watch?v=gdwhGmvB7aA

47. See Touré, “The Mystery of Lauryn Hill,” Rolling Stone, 30 Oct. 2003, www.rollingstone.com/music/news/the-mystery-of-lauryn-hill-20031030

48. See Robert Smith, “Harlem’s Apollo Theater Gets Its Own Show,” NPR, 13 Feb. 2011, www.npr.org/2011/02/13/133729700/Harlems-Apollo-Theatre-Gets-Its-Own-Show

49. “About Funny or Die,” Funny or Die, www.funnyordie.com/about?_cc=__d___&_ccid=lzz1fg.nvrnjz. If a video receives an exceptionally high number of “funny” votes, it attains the status of “immortal.”

50. Saturday Night Live in the 2000s: Time and Again (Kenneth Bowser, dir., 2010).

51. Ibid.

52. For an example of the laugh-groan-laugh boomerang, see Louis C. K.’s 2015 SNL monologue (first aired 16 May 2015), in which he made fun of child molesters.

53. Just as people have taken out and added laugh tracks to television clips, so someone has replaced all laughter with groans for an episode of Two and a Half Men (to portray disparagingly that perhaps the show’s jokes are more groan-worthy than laugh-worthy); see “Laugh Track from ‘Two and a Half Men’ Replaced with GROAN Track (Video),” Huffington Post, 25 May 2011, www.huffingtonpost.com/2010/02/19/laugh-track-from-two-and_n_469362.html

#media #comedy #critique #popular culture #perception #backlash #saturday night live

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tabloidtoc · 4 years

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Globe, January 25

You can now buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: COVID patient Larry King’s nasty battle over $50 million will

Page 2: Up Front & Personal -- Shia LaBeouf shows off his tattooed belly on a walk, Jessica Alba matches her mask to her shoes, Simon Cowell works out as he continues to recover from breaking his back

Page 3: Amy Schumer on the beach in St. Barts, Peter Weber is a total cue ball, Jenny McCarthy hauls garbage outside her Illinois home

Page 4: David Bowie’s supermodel widow Iman confesses she gets lonely but will never tie the knot again because the singer was her true love -- she made her revelation in the January issue of a fashion magazine where at age 65 she’s still hot enough to be the cover gal -- David and Iman’s daughter Lexie asked her if she would ever marry again and she said never and that their life together was beautiful and ordinary and that David was a very funny warm gentleman

* Kindhearted Kelly Ripa is so spooked by her new gruesome true crime series about digging up murder victims’ bodies that she’s having terrifying nightmares that have driven her to a shrink for help -- Kelly and actor husband Mark Consuelos are bigwig producers behind Oxygen channel’s series Exhumed that debuted January 17 featuring unearthed corpses to solve cases -- many nights Kelly will awaken haunted by a case she and Mark reviewed and realizing the horror and heartbreak the victims and their families went through is something you don’t forget once the lights are out -- while Kelly and Mark aren’t on the show as executive producers they have to approve the episodes and become intimately involved with the devastated families who help tell their heartbreaking stories -- her immersion in the grisly material has had a chilling effect on Kelly who is an empath which is a highly sensitive gal who can often feel the pain and suffering others are going through and Kelly’s therapist encourages her to do positive meditations each night before bed and think about at least two things that made her happy that day and Kelly is doing her best to follow doctor’s orders but she is so affected by the plights of other people that somehow the nightmares still manage to find their way into her dreams

Page 5: Onetime Bond girl Tanya Roberts passed away at age 65 less than 24 hours after her prematurely announced death -- Mike Pingel who was a rep for Tanya says he told the world that she had died at L.A.’s Cedar-Sinai Hospital on January after speaking with her distraught beau Lance O’Brien -- following a goodbye visit with the ailing star mistaken Lance claimed she died in his arms but bizarrely the very next morning sobbing Lance said he was told by the hospital that Tanya was still alive in the ICU while filming a TV interview about her untimely end -- however according to Lance she finally perished hours later on January 4 after being taken off life support -- Tanya reportedly collapsed in her California home after walking her dogs and rushed to the hospital she remained on a ventilator from December 24 until her death which was not COVID related

Page 6: In Denmark a bitter feud between royal wives is tearing the ruling family apart -- Danish Crown Prince Frederik’s Australian wife Mary detests her French-born sister-in-law Marie who is wed to Frederik’s kid brother Joachim and Mary helped banish Marie and Joachim to Paris to get her sophisticated rival out of her hair -- Frederik’s wife who is the future queen desires to be treated with the deference befitting her station even by relatives while Marie is far less stuffy and very outspoken and she’s made it plain she was unhappy when her husband was ordered to become military attache at the Danish Embassy in Paris in 2019 -- shortly after his arrival in France Joachim suffered a blood clot in his brain and when Frederik showed up to visit his ailing brother Mary was nowhere in sight

Page 7: After failing to land plum roles in A-list movie blockbusters Meghan Markle and her husband Prince Harry inked a $40 million deal to crank out podcasts and the first installment was branded a bomb after airing late last month -- despite superstar Elton John dropping by for Archewell Audio’s first holiday special the highly hyped recording embarrassingly landed at No. 17 on the Spotify podcast list behind entries like Deep Sleep Sounds which features whale sounds -- many in the royal inner circle are gloating and smirking over the arrogant couple’s disastrous debut and even with Elton’s help Meghan is still a second banana to whale noises and no one wants to listen to the couple’s self-absorbed drivel

* Not only has royal renegade Prince Harry traded London for L.A. he’s ditched posh palace pronunciations and speaks more like an American during his public appearances -- while doing his first Archewell Audio broadcast Harry dropped the refined Received Pronunciation favored by his grandmother Queen Elizabeth and sounded like a regular American

Page 8: Anti-vaccine crusader Bobby Kennedy Jr. has been kicked in the teeth by his powerful political clan after triggering fears about immunizations and the desperately needed cure for COVID-19 -- brother Joe, sister Kathleen and niece Kerry Kennedy Meltzer who is a doctor battling the virus on the frontlines publicly accuse Bobby of putting Americans’ lives at risk by telling lies about vaccines in general and attacking injections aimed at stamping out the killer virus -- family members were always skeptical about Bobby’s slightly off-kilter anti-vax ideas but they supported him because the Kennedys stick together and hate to show a rift in the family but now they have shifted against him

Page 10: Garth Brooks’ sloppy habits during nine months of lockdown have iron-willed wife Trisha Yearwood in a tizzy and their marriage is dangling by a thread after she clobbered the slob with a strict set of house rules -- after exasperated Trisha spilled her guts to pals a friend advised she put the rules in writing and hang it where he’ll see it and she did but Trish’s demanding ways are pushing Garth to the brink and he’s ready to walk unless they can find middle ground, one that doesn’t include Trisha calling all the shots -- Trisha has given Garth a list of do’s and don’ts that include wearing deodorant at all times and stop leaving the bathroom a mess and to remove his clothes from the dryer once he’s done but on the top of Trisha’s list is a ban on Garth’s constant 24/7 whistling that has her pulling her hair out

Page 11: Dynamic diva Jennifer Lopez is bored with fat-cat fiance Alex Rodriguez and is struggling to keep their romance alive -- after postponing their marriage and saying there was no real reason to tie the knot Jennifer has kind of hit a wall with where she and Alex can really take things and she is particularly frustrated by ho-hum Alex’s lack of motivation -- those who know J.Lo want her to stick to her wheelhouse by making movies and recording music however those endeavors don’t offer retired baseball player A-Rod any position to play -- they haven’t fallen out of love exactly but they have run out of the joint projects and goals that were the rocket fuel for their relationship and they’re stuck with no obvious places to go next

* Teresa Giudice and new beau Luis “Louie” Ruelas are already shacking up together and plan to buy a pad of their own and Teresa can see herself marrying Louie and combining his kids and hers under one roof -- he stays over most weekends and some weeknights at her place in New Jersey and they cook Italian together and stay up late watching movies -- her four daughters like Louie too and see how happy he’s made her

Page 12: Celebrity Buzz -- Maitland Ward wearing masks on her breasts (picture), Demi Lovato battled a life-threatening secret eating disorder for years but today she bravely flaunts the stretched skin she’d once considered painfully flawed by wearing glitter paint on her stretch marks to celebrate her body and all of its features whether society views them as good or bad, Paul McCartney still gabs with dead pal George Harrison whose sprightly spirit has planted itself in a tree, Ray Liotta has asked girlfriend Jacy Nittolo to marry him and she screamed yes, legendary country star Ricky Skaggs is lucky to be alive thanks to an emergency quadruple bypass that saved his ticking time bomb of a ticker

Page 13: Mel Gibson steps out in Malibu with his arm in a sling (picture), Amy Poehler loads up at a Beverly Hills market (picture), brothers and Kinks bandmates Ray Davies and Dave Davies brew up an outing in London (picture), Michael Jackson’s one-time associate billionaire biz-wiz Ron Burkle snagged the late pop star’s beloved Neverland Ranch for the bargain basement price of $22 million

Page 14: Bryan Dattilo the 47-year-old soap star who’s played Lucas Horton on Days of Our Lives since 1993 now calls himself grandpa to a bouncing baby boy thanks to his 21-year-old son Gabe and his girlfriend and he’s also becoming a granddad on TV too with Alison Sweeney who plays Sami Brady, no more boozy days or nights for Chrissy Teigen and she declares she’s on the wagon and through with imbibing embarrassments

* Fashion Verdict -- Reese Witherspoon 7/10, Greta Gerwig 1/10

Page 16: Cover -- As 87-year-old Larry King battled for his life against killer COVID in an L.A. hospital his estranged wife Shawn was making a grab for the talk star’s $50 million fortune -- the cheating blonde is raging because in the months before his hospitalization Larry filed for divorce and cut her out of his will, leaving the fortune to their boys Chance and Cannon and Larry Jr. his son from his second marriage -- it’s going to be a fight to the finish literally and Shawn is trying to make sure she’s not left out when it comes to his cash

Page 19: 10 Things You Don’t Know About Anthony Anderson

* Kim Cattrall swore off motherhood because bedroom sessions with then-husband Mark Levinson didn’t fit into her Sex and the City shooting schedule -- Kim was 41 and newly wed when she decided to slam the door on pregnancy

* Bill Cosby is refusing to shower with other inmates a Pennsylvania prison to avoid contracting COVID-19 and he says he controls his stink by washing up in his cell’s sink but he doesn’t expect the situation to last forever because he’s hoping a court will toss his 2018 conviction

Page 21: LeAnn Rimes has admitted she checked into a mental ward after feeling bullied when news leaked she had cheated on her husband with married Eddie Cibrian -- she reveals she did 30 days in therapy in 2012 because she couldn’t handle the public shaming that rained down on her over her affair with future husband Eddie who was still married to Brandi Glanville and she was still wed to Dean Sheremet -- LeAnn calls her therapy the best gift she could have given herself

Page 22: True Crime -- Survivor villain Jonny Fairplay is living up to his bad boy image after cops busted TV’s evil liar accusing him of ripping off his dementia-stricken granny

Page 24: Marie Bobette Riales knows where the bodies are buried in actor Danny Masterson’s Scientology rape scandal and terrified church leaders want her silenced at all costs but Marie who dated the indicted actor and slapped the sci-fi faith with a civil suit won’t back down -- Marie’s impending testimony at Masterson’s criminal trial and in her civil case threatens to destroy the controversial church by exposing the intimidation used by ruthless Scientology bigwigs to hide the twisted secrets of its celebrity members

Page 26: Health Report

Page 30: Tom Cruise has taken on the mission to shield his movie crew from the rampaging coronavirus by building a disease-proof studio on a former top-secret army base -- Tom who is already taking heat for screaming curses at crew members who ignored virus safety measures is shelling out millions to build a secure shooting facility at the former English tank base in Longcross -- Tom is obsessed with finding ways to beat the fast-spreading virus ever since filming of Mission: Impossible 7 was shut down when the pandemic savaged Italy and when it spread to Britain

* Alec Baldwin’s yoga guru wife Hillary a.k.a. Hilaria Baldwin has been busted as a fraud after putting on foreign airs and talking with a Spanish accent -- the mom of Alec’s five young kids claimed to be from the Spanish isle of Mallorca where she was called Hilaria but her tale unraveled after a social media video showed her accent mysteriously drifting on and off and pals from Boston’s preppie Cambridge School of Weston began texting that she’s all-American with one saying her name was indeed Hillary Hayward-Thomas and she did not have a Spanish accent -- now Mrs. Baldwin is confessing she was born in Boston but spent a lot of time in Mallorca where her American parents called her Hilaria and she picked up the accent

Page 36: Angelina Jolie is panicking over her sky-high legal bills but she only has herself and her vengeful divorce war against ex Brad Pitt to blame -- she may be worth $100 million and rake in moolah from producing and directing but her high-maintenance lifestyle and refusal to finally settle her four-year divorce and custody war with Brad have left her cash-strapped and she’s starting to panic over her dwindling cash flow and every time she files a motion like her losing attempt to dismiss the judge it costs her money because these fancy lawyers can charge more than $850 an hour and it adds up -- more and more Angie’s having to dip into her savings but as much as it hurts she’s stubborn and refuses to settle and she blames Brad for everything -- on top of legal bills the luxury lifestyle she shares with her brood including a whopping $17.5 million mortgage on her L.A. mansion are a humongous cash drain and she also supports a household staff plus she’s never learned to say no when one of the kids wants an expensive high-tech toy

* Pop diva Taylor Swift’s image has been erased from a mural at Nashville’s iconic Legends Corner bar because some die-hard fans believe she turned her back on country music -- artist Tim Davis notes the saloon’s owners told him to replace Taylor with Brad Paisley -- furious Taylor fans cry that she won country’s highest honor the Pinnacle Award in 2013 but painter Davis notes Taylor has turned to pop and some inebriated bar hoppers have spit on her image specifically feeling betrayed by her venture from country

Page 40: Arnold Schwarzenegger’s acting unstoppable and savoring his favorite stogies just three months after major heart surgery but a medical expert warns the 73-year-old’s love for cigars could trigger a devastating health catastrophe and he should kick the habit -- however Arnold who had an aortic valve replaced in October has been feeling his oats with galpal Heather Milligan in resort Sun Valley, Idaho

* In the latest twist in Dr. Dre’s messy billion-dollar divorce the rap mogul admits he spent a night of passion with estranged wife Nicole Young after they split -- in legal documents the music tycoon claims that although Nicole moved out of their family home in mid-March the two continued to speak and socialize and see each other and he also revealed that on the couple’s May wedding anniversary Nicole invited him to dinner at her Malibu home and the two did the horizontal mambo -- Dre vehemently denies Nicole’s claim that he abused her during their 24-year marriage adding she was not and is not afraid of him and insists she’s lying to bolster her divorce claims

Page 45: Robin Williams’ wife Susan Schneider insists she’s haunted by his ghost who shows up when she needs him and she says she recently saw him in the yard

* Gilligan’s Island’s goody-goody girl Dawn Wells took a shameful regret to the grave that the perky pothead was accused of being a dope dealer -- the 82-year-old actress best known as girl-next-door Mary Ann Summers on the classic sitcom was still humiliated over her secret stoner past when she died of complications from COVID-19 -- her drug scandals dated back to 1998 when her friend and co-star Bob Denver who played Gilligan was arrested after a parcel containing half an ounce of pot was delivered to his house in Princeton in West Virginia and Denver later fingered Dawn as his connection and said she’d been selling him dope since 1995 but Dawn lawyered up and denied everything and was never charged -- she was busted for having marijuana in her car as she drove home from her 69th birthday party in 2007 and she was sentenced to five days in jail and fined and placed on probation -- her years as a pothead continued to haunt her until the end

Page 47: Bizarre But True

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thethirdwheel404 · 4 years

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Med Rewatch Series (#13)

S3 E13: Best Laid Plans.

Episode description: When a mother makes a decision regarding care of her vegetative adult son, Dr. Manning and Dr. Halstead and find themselves at odds.

Literally when do they not.

I am watching this while doing a voice call with a friend, so we’ll see how distracted I get.

I am literally so tired.

Let’s get into it

- connor only now noticing ava doing something she has apparently been doing forever. boy get some eyes

- her talking to patients while under anesthesia is just, so endearing. so soft.

- this is another example of ava’s ‘high risk high reward’ idea. riskier procedure for better quality of life

- sarah is so pure

- ava wearing her lab coat and gloves will never not be sexy

- ava feeling bad that connor’s patient has very little hope

- sarah’s little ‘hmm, the plot thickens’. A dork.

- me, breathless, seeing ava with her lab coat sleeves rolled up: she is very pretty

- oh yeah, they fight over the heart

- noah gets shit on so much this season

- this sarah’s dad storyline goes so hard. it’s so tense, so well done

- why does connor always look like that. so agressive. always

- the noah story in this ep is actually really funny

- HOLY SHIT SURPRISE ANGRY AVA

- I WAS NOT EXPECTING THAT

- fantastic

- god just look how mad she is. that is fantastic, she is f u m i n g

- and she has reason to be too, he went behind her back to support his patient (which, like yeah it’s smart, but too fucking smarmy)

- fuck connor. honestly. man needs to get stuffed

- ava watching karma bite the bitch boy in the ass

- she literally stands there, watching him flounder. power move

- ‘you can’t compare patients in need. that’s why there’s a list’ she is a logical person. she also follows the rules, she’s fair, and gets mad when everyone around her doesn’t (and commits malpractice)

- ava being shook when connor says ‘yeah, it’s all about the numbers’, condescendingly.

- this is the point where all the ava haters latched on to, bc out of context this makes her look heartless. looking at the numbers and not the patient. the point is that this is incredibly hypocritical, bc ava and connor both have attachments to their patients, and connor is implying that ava has no heart, just bc she isn’t giving in a giving him what he wants? when she is just??? also caring for her patient?

- come on man. it’s so annoying. ava is seen as heartless for not caring about her patient. real classic.

- here, ava’s face, in the canon of the show, she’s reevaluating herself so that she fits the show’s standard. (emotional to the point of being idiotic, and giving connor everything he wants. like every other character)

- however, i like to think that this is her realizing (bc it is a face of realization) just how hypocritical connor is being. and how much he sucks. she realizes his flaws

- connor looking ava dead in the eyes (no emotion, btw) and saying ‘I had the lab run it twice’

- straight people are so dumb

- this is the guy you choose?

- ava’s little floundering when she turns to goodwin after connor’s patient recovers enough for the transplant. it is fantastic. i love it so much. it makes my heart go brring

- LIKE IT IS SO ADORABLE. oh wow.

- i cannot emphasize enough

- like she is at such a loss! she looks so lost! so defeated!

- (this is a really good ep for emotional ava)

- ava really calls him out: “save your self-righteous hero speech for someone else” she sees through his bullshit.

- as she walks away you can see her bring her hand to her face--- wiping tears? pressing fingers to bridge of her nose?

- he doesn’t even feel bad

- i want to write something for this episode so bad. just. something. comforting ava. she deserves someone looking out for her. just... i want to fix this ep bc its so sad

- yeah, also, think about this: connor was her only friend, and she just got completely ostracized by him

- a lot of her work conflict comes from him! and she’s her only friend! she is not doing well! someone help her (me. through reese)

- STOP MAKING AVA OVERLY SYMPATHIZE WITH HIM

- LITERALLY SHE IS THE ONLY ONE WHO CALLS HIM OUT ON HIS SHIT. DO NOT MAKE HER AGREE WITH HIM

- stop this

- HOLY SHIT SARAH’S CASUAL CLOTHES. wowie

- stop making her do bad things

- sarah’s dad has the same cups as the hospital. conspiracy

- rip off steve jobs

- YES SARAH DON’T SIGN IT

- ethan’s sister is adorable. her introduction is adorable. noah flirting with her is adorable

- i actually really like ethan’s sister.

- april being like ‘aw she seems fun’ is adorable

- ethan being embarrased is so in character and also such an older brother thing to do

- ethan being a distant older brother was one of the best things they did for his character

- brian tee is fantastic

Okay, cool. So this episode is great if you want to see Ava actually being stressed, and showcasing emotion, which I know you do. And yeah, we’ve established that she really does feel emotion (contrary to the writers’ opinion), but here we get to really see what she’s like when she’s frustrated, when she’s at a loss. That little bit of grasping at straws she does when Goodwin lets Connor’s patient have the rights is probably one of my favorite little Ava moments.

thanks for staying with it

#chicago med #med rewatch series #mine #best laid plans

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tessavirtueandmoir · 7 years

Text

1. Who was the last person you held hands with?

Daniel aka one of the Finnish guys cause I didn’t want to get lost in the club (I also hate club so it was like a double whammy)

2. Are you outgoing or shy?

Is outgoingly shy a thing? I used to be super shy and still am around guys, but im definitely more outgoing in everyday life than I used to be

3. Who are you looking forward to seeing?

MY BESTFRIEND WHO FREAKING FLEW TO ENGLAND THE DAY I CAME HOME AND I HAVEN’T BEEN ABLE TO SEE HER YET.

4. Are you easy to get along with?

Depends on who you ask, I guess.

5. If you were drunk would the person you like take care of you?

More likely than not.

6. What kind of people are you attracted to?

Blond hair, blue eyes… the eye colour doesnt really matter tbh but that seems to be the trend. Not douchey.

7. Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now?

Uhh.. that’s wishful thinking.

8. Who from the opposite gender is on your mind?

Those dang Finnish boys #lifecrisis

9. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable?

Yes.

10. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with?

Probs one of those Finnish boys

11. What does the most recent text that you sent say?

I sent an article to my mom about how Canada was gonna be colder than Antarctica and mars. lmao I love this freaking country.

12. What are your 5 favorite songs right now?

Freedom 90 - Pitch Perfect Cast

Saturday Night - Whigfield

New Year’s Day - TSwift

New Rules - Dua Lipa

Hopeless Romantic - Scott Middough

13. Do you like it when people play with your hair?

Yeah dude point me to a girl who doesn’t

14. Do you believe in luck and miracles?

Lmao no not really

15. What good thing happened this summer?

I turned 20 and apparently had a life resolution. Ditch those crappy people y’all, they aint worth your time

16. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?

Debatable…

17. Do you think there is life on other planets?

18. Do you still talk to your first crush?

Don’t even remember who my first crush was so that’s probably a no.

19. Do you like bubble baths?

Yo. My kryptonite. My res only had showers for the 4 months I was there and I legit cried when I say my bathtub so.

20. Do you like your neighbors?

As long as I can’t hear them, I don’t really care

21. What are you bad habits?

Getting super snippy when I’m hungry. Um… constantly being on my phone? Idk what else. Being blunt?

22. Where would you like to travel?

I just want to go back to England at this point

23. Do you have trust issues?

hahahah AHAHAHAHAHHA bye

24. Favorite part of your daily routine?

the fact I didnt wake up until like mid afternoon in the uk… now literally nothing

25. What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with?

My stomach? Or maybe my arms

26. What do you do when you wake up?

Check my phone notifs

27. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker?

Maybe a tad darker because im literally pale af but otherwise no

28. Who are you most comfortable around?

my best friends aka girls

29. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up?

No? One of my ex’s once told one of my friends to check on me though cause he was worried.. it was strange.

30. Do you ever want to get married?

Also, debatable. I’m loving my alone life right now.

31. Is your hair long enough for a pony tail?

If it wasn’t I would literally cry so. Every time I get it cut we make sure it goes into a pony because of dance and stuff.

32. Which celebrities would you have a threesome with?

Anna Kendrick and is Tessa Virtue a celebrity? I think she is. Wow… that is quite the threesome honestly. Gotta have different life experiences I suppose.

33. Spell your name with your chin.

grasysdoihj

34. Do you play sports? What sports?

Dance and soccer. dance is a sport dont argue with me

35. Would you rather live without TV or music?

TV I guess. But either option would be pretty lame.

36. Have you ever liked someone and never told them?

In my 20 years, yeah probably

37. What do you say during awkward silences?

Nothing, I usually check my phone or something

38. Describe your dream girl/guy?

Not an inconsiderate douchebag. And someone that lives in the same country as me.

39. What are your favorite stores to shop in?

NEWLOOK, River Island, ASOS, RW and Co, Dynamite (sometimes the Bay)

40. What do you want to do after high school?

Be a lawyer.

41. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance?

Nah man.

42. If your being extremely quiet what does it mean?

I’m fucking mad and u best walk away before I slit you in half. Or I’m tired. Or im not comfortable with the situation

43. Do you smile at strangers?

I barely even look up so no

44. Trip to outer space or bottom of the ocean?

Bottom of the ocean

45. What makes you get out of bed in the morning?

That maybe it’ll be cold enough for me to take a bath at some point… I have a lame Canadian life. And I also don’t wanna be a university drop out so there’s also that.

46. What are you paranoid about?

People following me… like not on social media. Just like in general

47. Have you ever been high?

Nope

48. Have you ever been drunk?

Potentially? Idk man, probably not

49. Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about?

Oh yeah. But I told my friends about it so does that really count?

50. What was the colour of the last hoodie you wore?

Navy

51. Ever wished you were someone else?

Everyone wishes they were T Virtue so.

52. One thing you wish you could change about yourself?

I wish I could make myself want to go to the gym an exercise. But yet, here I am

53. Favourite makeup brand?

Anastasia Beverley Hills/Tarte/Fenty Beauty

54. Favourite store?

Did I not already answer this?

55. Favourite blog?

Mine. Shameless self promo

https://graysonwadsworth2.wixsite.com/hayitsgray

56. Favourite colour?

Grey/Teal/Burgundy

57. Favourite food?

G A R L I C B R E A D

58. Last thing you ate?

I’m about to eat a huge ass bowl of oatmeal

59. First thing you ate this morning?

This huge ass bowl of oatmeal. It’s 9:25 PM in case y’all were wondering.

60. Ever won a competition? For what?

Many. For dance.

61. Been suspended/expelled? For what?

No, I’m an angel. Just kidding.

62. Been arrested? For what?

Nope.

63. Ever been in love?

Yep.

64. Tell us the story of your first kiss?

Happened on a cruise ship in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea and I stupidly decided to play a game where we were trying to get our faces as close as possible without kissing… I was dumb okay lmao.

65. Are you hungry right now?

Mildly.

66. Do you like your tumblr friends more than your real friends?

I talk to my Tumblr friends more than my real friends

67. Facebook or Twitter?

Twitter

68. Twitter or Tumblr?

Why is instagram not a choice. Tumblr I guess.

69. Are you watching tv right now?

I’m watching the movie what not to expect when you’re expecting

70. Names of your bestfriends?

Harneet, Keira, Emmy, Katerina, Andy, Meghan x 2, Madi, Sydney, Emily, Lauren, Cassidy… wow… that’s so many

71. Craving something? What?

Not to be sick.

72. What colour are your towels?

My personal towels are teal. But we have brown, black. and grey ones in the bathroom too.

72. How many pillows do you sleep with?

there’s 6 on my bed right now

73. Do you sleep with stuffed animals?

does one laying at the foot of the bed count cause otherwise no

74. How many stuffed animals do you think you have?

I legitimately cleaned out my entire closet this week and found my ENTIRE collection of webkinz so if we’re gonna count those probs like 300 lmao

75. Favourite animal?

Elephant

76. What colour is your underwear?

Pink

77. Chocolate or Vanilla?

Vanilla

78. Favourite ice cream flavour?

Cookie Dough OR French crisp from Laura Secord

79. What colour shirt are you wearing?

Grey

80. What colour pants?

Grey, white and pink

81. Favourite tv show?

GREYS ANATOMY

82. Favourite movie?

Moulin Rouge or Angels and Demons

83. Mean Girls or Mean Girls 2?

Mean girls who are you

84. Mean Girls or 21 Jump Street?

Jump Street

85. Favourite character from Mean Girls?

Janice

86. Favourite character from Finding Nemo?

Dory or Crush

87. First person you talked to today?

I honestly have no idea, probably meg though… or I definitely snapchatted people

88. Last person you talked to today?

Meg

89. Name a person you hate?

Well, that would be mean.

90. Name a person you love?

My British bestie, honestly, I don’t know why I love her so much. It’s strange. My cat is the next backup.

91. Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now?

No? Violence is never the answer. Passive aggressiveness is

92. In a fight with someone?

Not that I know of

93. How many sweatpants do you have?

All of my sweats are basically roots, and I honestly have too many

94. How many sweaters/hoodies do you have?

TOO MANY

95. Last movie you watched?

Pitch Perfect 2

96. Favourite actress?

Anna Kendrick OR Reese Witherspoon

97. Favourite actor?

I am currently blanking on male actors at the moment. Let’s just go with Ryan Reynolds cause he’s funny af and married to Blake so

98. Do you tan a lot?

I burn a lot.

99. Have any pets?

A really bitchy cat

100. How are you feeling?

Sick #iloveairplanes

101. Do you type fast?

Yes, unnaturally fast. I can also type without looking at the keys which weirds a lot of people out.

102. Do you regret anything from your past?

Doesn’t everyone? It wasn’t stuff that I did myself though

103. Can you spell well?

Usually yes, lately no. I need to go back to school obviously

104. Do you miss anyone from your past?

My grandma

105. Ever been to a bonfire party?

Yep

106. Ever broken someone’s heart?

Accidentally on purpose yes

107. Have you ever been on a horse?

Yes, and I got bucked off and now refuse to ride another horse

108. What should you be doing?

Writing an essay that’s due on Friday

109. Is something irritating you right now?

The fact that I can’t fall asleep, but that’s the norm so

110. Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt?

Only when they broke my heartttttt

111. Do you have trust issues?

I swear to god I’ve already answered this one

112. Who was the last person you cried in front of?

My best british friend. She legit left me crying in the middle of the club

113. What was your childhood nickname?

Gray gray. Or Gray goose.

114. Have you ever been out of your province/state?

Yes

115. Do you play the Wii?

I used to. My console is in my closet now though

116. Are you listening to music right now?

Yes, always.

117. Do you like chicken noodle soup?

MA FAVE. It’s the only soup I eat.

118. Do you like Chinese food?

YES. MY OTHER FAVE.

119. Favourite book?

13 Reasons Why, or Atonement. Soon to be: Scrappy Little Nobody

120. Are you afraid of the dark?

No.

121. Are you mean?

I am blunt. Sometimes those two can get confused

122. Is cheating ever okay?

No, y’all are scum bye

123. Can you keep white shoes clean?

Uh… if my white shoes get dirty I clean them so they’re white again

124. Do you believe in love at first sight?

No, but I believe in crushes at first sight #themodel

125. Do you believe in true love?

I mean.. maybe.

126. Are you currently bored?

Yes, hence why I’m answering all these questions

127. What makes you happy?

My friends

128. Would you change your name?

I currently am, but not my first name.

129. What your zodiac sign?

Cancer the crabbbbbb

130. Do you like subway?

Uh…. sometimes. But it’s not my go to

131. Your bestfriend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?

Yikes, this has legit happened to me and I had to dip so fast im not even lying

132. Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with?

Definitely one of those Finnish boys

133. Favourite lyrics right now?

Take back your picture in a frame

sometimes the clothes do not make the man

134. Can you count to one million?

Who would ever try that? It would take forever.

135. Dumbest lie you ever told?

When I told all my profs I couldn’t write my midterm cause I had a concussion and I went to the Dominican instead #rebel

136. Do you sleep with your doors open or closed?

Closed

137. How tall are you?

5′ 3″

138. Curly or Straight hair?

Straight hair that is curled

139. Brunette or Blonde?

Blonde

140. Summer or Winter?

Neither, I hate both. But if I had to choose, summer

141. Night or Day?

Night

142. Favourite month?

May

143. Are you a vegetarian?

No, I’d literally die because I hate vegetables

144. Dark, milk or white chocolate?

milk

145. Tea or Coffee?

T E A

146. Was today a good day?

Tbh I laid in bed all day so that’s pretty ideal

147. Mars or Snickers?

Mars

148. What’s your favourite quote?

Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don’t matter, and those who matter don’t mind - Dr. Suess (how philosophical wow)

149. Do you believe in ghosts?

Nope

150. Get the closest book next to you, open it to page 42, what’s the first line on that page?

The young team were still getting most of their ice time in Ilderton and were preparing for the Western Ontario sectionals in the juvenile category, but in late autumn of 1998, just a week before sectionals, Scott broke his right arm playing flag football. That is the longest sentence ever wow.

#personal #I cant believe I was so bored I answered 150 questions about myself #Jesus murphy

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