#steve does carpentry

[hairmetal666]

Wayne's used to worrying about Eddie. He should be; he's been doing it since the kid was twelve. First it was Eddie's silence, his permanent frown, the way the bones stood out too prominent on his small wrists. Then it was the kids at school, taunting him and calling him names, the fights and calls from the principal's office. Next came the late nights, the drinking, the dealing, failing his senior year twice. But all of those times, every single one, Wayne had known what to do. Maybe it wasn't perfect, maybe it took a little time, but he'd always figured out exactly what his boy needed.

And now--now Wayne doesn't know if he can help; knows it's not in his power to fix it. 

So, he sits for the second week in a row, watching his nephew--his whole heart--sitting in front of the window, looking out at the forest, nursing the same cup of coffee that he poured six hours ago, and wonders how in the world he can help.

They're cleaning up from dinner, Eddie quiet at his side, when he says, "Gonna need some help with the mugs tomorrow."

After moving to Oregon once Eddie graduated and he retired, he found an affinity for pottery. Never woulda thought it, but he loves it and tourists love his booth at the farmers market.

He can't think of a better way to get his nephew out of the house, but wonders if he doesn't know his boy as well as he thinks after a decade in Los Angeles, that Eddie'll refuse. He just nods, though, goes back to drying the plate in his hands.

And next morning, right at 6:45, Eddie is in the living room in black jeans that are so worn they're nearly grey in places, and the threadbare Metallica tee Wayne thrifted for him nearly a decade back. It's a win. Small, yes--Eddie doesn't even complain once about the country-western station Wayne plays in the truck--but still a step forward.

Wayne wastes no time parking and handing Eddie a box of carefully packed merchandise. He leads the way, trusts that Eddie is right on his heels until he hears Jim Hopper's voice say, "You better keep an eye on those mugs, son. Your uncle will tan your hide."

He turns to see Hopper balancing one end of Eddie's box, Eddie's cheeks flushed pink. "Sorry, I--uh, I've got it now." Hopper lets go and for the briefest instant Eddie's eyes dart to the side and the pink in his cheeks grows deeper.

Wayne tracks the path Eddie's eyes took and finds--he swallows back a chuckle--Steve Harrington just setting one of his Adirondack chairs into place, his t-shirt lifted to show of a stretch of stomach.

Well. Eddie did always like the pretty ones.

They setup the booth in companionable silence, and Hopper pops back over for a proper introduction. Before he departs again, he says to Eddie, "I got some kids who really love that dnd game and your show. They're going to be crazy to meet you. That okay?"

And Eddie, he's a good boy, he smiles and nods but as soon as Hopper is out of earshot, Wayne's saying, "Hop's kids and their friends are big fans and I know you're heartsore about the cancellation, but you better be polite."

Eddie glares. "What do you think, old man, that I'll be mean to children?"

"Well, with how you've been moping around the cabin these last few weeks, hard to know."

He scoffs. "Yeah, well. Netflix putting your hit show on indefinite hiatus without warning or explanation will do that to a guy."

Wayne knows there's nothing he can say to soften this hurt, so he gives Eddie's shoulder a tight squeeze. "I'm proud of you no matter what, son."

His nephew nods, eyes down, but Wayne doesn't miss the small, pleased, lift at the corner of his lips.

The morning passes smoothly and Wayne pretends he doesn't notice every time he finds Eddie's gaze straying to Steve's booth.

The kids come by around noon, Dustin Henderson breaking away from the pack to shriek, "You're Eddie Munson!"

Eddie smiles, stands. "That I am, young adventurer." He bows low, exaggerated and the kids giggle. "Pray tell, what are your names?"

The chatter is fast and easy, Eddie the happiest he's been in weeks, and Wayne relaxes back in his chair, lets out a long, slow breath of relief at the breaking storm. He stretches back in his chair, eyes catching on Steve Harrington across the way. Steve who is watching Eddie and the kids with an expression Wayne can only think of as fond.

Wayne isn't one to play matchmaker, but--he thinks, just maybe, just this once he could nudge.

It happens late in the afternoon, when business has well-slowed, Eddie asking, "Um--that guy over there, who is--what's his deal?"

Wayne thinks he manages to keep all traces of amusement from his face and voice as he answers, "Who? Ohh, Steve Harrington. He's the guidance counselor down at the middle school. Does a bit of carpentry in his free time. Best friends with the woman who owns that little bookstore."

He watches as Eddie processes, as his eyes widen, probably in remembrance of the pride flags and Protect Trans Kids shirts, how the woman in question wore a lesbian flag pin on her apron. "Guidance counselor?" He says eventually. "Kind of a drag."

"You would think, but the kids love him. The ones you met earlier today? He babysat them for years; imprinted on him, Jim and I say."

"Hmm," is the only response he gets, Eddie's attention back on the man in question.

---

The day after the market, Wayne walks into the living room to find Eddie's laptop tucked into the cushions of the window seat. He hasn't seen the thing since Eddie came home, never used to see him without it, and this--well.

He says, "need to run into town for a few things. You up for a trip? You might could stop at that bookstore."

Eddie nods, takes a sip of his coffee--he's actually drinking it-- says, "Yeah. Yeah, I think that'd be cool."

The store isn't busy when they arrive, and Wayne drifts towards the magazines to leave Eddie to his own devices.

Wayne loses himself to quiet browsing, wanting to give Eddie space, to maybe chat with Robin Buckley, strike up the beginnings of a friendship. Enough time passes, though, that Wayne is wondering where his boisterous, noticeable nephew could've disappeared to so silently.

He winds around a shelf and sees Eddie and Steve Harrington in deep conversation. He can't hear it, not really, but they're standing close, with pink in their cheeks. As he watches, Steve says something that makes Eddie laugh and pull a few strands of hair over his mouth.

They're almost inseparable after that. Eddie, Steve, Robin, and all those kids. They play dnd, have movie nights, spend hours at the diner. And Eddie, he's writing, sketching, gets down Wayne's acoustic guitar and plays around for a while.

When he asks how things are with "that Harrington boy," Eddie flushes red and says, "none of your business, old man" before giving Wayne a quick, affectionate squeeze. 

---

Two and a half months after Eddie came to stay, Wayne's walking back from the river, the sky the light navy of new dusk. His fishing rod is draped over one shoulder, tackle box held easily in his fist, the walk home pleasant, a perfect end to a good day.

The light from the front porch seeps through the trees, and he's thinking about a cold beer, a warm pizza, if Eddie's found his way home yet, when figures standing on the porch stop him in his tracks.

It takes a second, longer, for his eyes to adjust from the dark of the woods, and the glow of the bulb, but then he sees--

Eddie and Steve locked in a fierce embrace, desperate and very much private.

He turns right back towards the river, doesn't mind giving the boys some time.

He waits a good half hour, just enjoying the forest, before heading back. Steve's car is gone, the porch vacant, but the cabin is lit up, bright and warm and inviting.

Wayne steps inside, and his nephew is there, laptop open, but he isn't working, just smiling to himself, chin resting on his fist.

"Okay?" Wayne asks.

"Huh? Oh, yeah." Eddie's smile doesn't fall from his face.

He doesn't want to interfere, ask too much, not when he's sure things are still young. Instead, he asks, "What'd you say to ordering a pizza?"

And Eddie, heedless of Wayne's question, says,"you know. I've been thinking about maybe staying here for a little longer."

And Wayne, his smile grows, and he claps a hand on his nephew's shoulder. "You're welcome here for as long as you want. Already consider it your home anyway."

[theee-wizard]

Minecraft Anime character pitches based on all the default skins and also dungeons and dragons classes and subclasses

Steve: Battlemaster Fighter. Leader. puts safety of his friends first. Fights with a sword and shield.

Alex: Hunter Ranger. Sure-shot with a bow. Likes to spar and get in fights. Fights with bow and arrows + dagger.

Zuri: Battlesmith Artificer. Blossoming redstone engineer. Iron Golem companion does most of the fighting.

Efe: Thief Rouge. Scampish little pickpocket. Impulsive, but kind. Fights with tricks and dagger.

Ari: Totem Warrior Barbarian. Gentle giant with a passion for carpentry. Fights with woodsman axe.

Noor: Sage Wizard. Lover of frogs and ancient texts. Often stays up late in the library. Fights with magic and staff.

Sunny: Astral Self Monk. Doesn��t talk much. Fishes pretty much all the time. Fights with martial arts and fishing line.

Kai: Coven of Green Witch. Kind of full of themselves. Incredibly magical. Fights with magic and potions.

Makena: Shepard Druid. Lover of animals and agriculture. Fights by shapeshifting and summoning creatures.

There's nothing stopping me from making a Minecraft anime pilot

[gonegrove]

Jodi Pierce: same year as nancy + jonathan. was friends with benefits with billy until he got his shit together and got with [preferred partner for billy here]. they’re still friends bc she’s literally is only one lol. very style forward. socially mobile and well liked without really belonging anywhere. new wave, funk and proto-indie. likes the muppets, puppets and animatronics and makes puppets of her own for comedy shit. dates robin. finds out she and eddie are half siblings bc her mom had an affair w/ his dad pre-3 bc her mom has a crisis about them being in the same grade now. it’s a mess but they’re working on it.

Shannon Harrington: roughly nancy’s age. steve’s younger sister. she’s also very popular and extremely funny. she’s on the volleyball and cheerleading teams. she’s a loud pain in the ass and deeply weird when you actually know her. she’s Peak annoying younger sister. still considers steve probably her best friend bc he’s the only one who actually knows her and still likes her. she is a tinkerbell who will die without attention and her entire outward personality is geared to ensuring attention. also has like no filter, no shame and says wild shit so often. pop music fiend.

Rhiannon Hargrove: nancy’s age. billy’s younger biological sister. named after the fleetwood mac song and hates it. is one of those memes of someone who looks sweet and nice that has the subtitle of something like “i’m about to fucking lose it”. she and billy pretty co-dependent and rhia’s life is heavily controlled by neil and billy tho for different reasons. trying to make this new family shit work but people are Testing Her. can be just as shitty as billy but is usually better at reigning her anger in for the most part (or really she just lets it stew until she Snaps lol rip). a little pop-y and little boho. she and chrissy would get on except that rhia would snap jason’s spine over her fucking knee in 0.0005 secs of meeting him so lol. takes after their mother a lot in looks and personality, not sure how she feels about that since she’s not a fan of her as much as billy still is. still tries to fight back against neil when he gets physical about 50% of the time, usually when he’s going after billy.

Richard Brandon Mayfield: goes by his middle name brandon bc he hates richard. is about 14-15 when they move to hawkins. he’s the epitome of the DW “this sign can’t stop me because  i can’t read!” meme. he’s a dipshit and he means business. literally all the other siblings are smarter than him but he doesn’t give a shit and it’s not a thing for him. he’s gay and he’s so aggressively average about it. like he just is what he is and like ???? that’s it???? doesn’t think their dad is as cool as max does. deadass tries to go toe to toe with neil every. single. time. you cannot TELL this child otherwise. he is a fratboy and an idiot and he could be 100000% shifaced and never get your pronouns wrong even tho he doesn’t get SHIT about what ur talking about. he’s gonna go to trade school after hs for carpentry. he and will get together at some point lol.

[theawkwardterrier]

Fake It, Make It

A tropey Steggy Secret Santa gift for the excellent @sagesiren​/@theeleganteuropeanwoman! Wishing you as good an end to 2020 as you can get, and an amazing 2021!!  ✨✨✨

Summary: When Steve tells his mother that he is now dating a woman named Peggy Carter, his mother immediately wants to meet her. Which Steve would, of course, be perfectly happy to arrange, except that he is not in fact dating Peggy Carter (as much as he might want to be).

Read on AO3

Steve’s mother has been a nurse for thirty-three years. She’s familiar with the medical system and its limitations, and she’s a straight shooter even when it comes to her own mortality.

So when her doctor sends her for more tests after her annual physical, she mentions it to Steve during their weekly phone call.

“Dr. Nakhwa is worried,” she admits. “It’s bloodwork and scans now, but it might become something very quickly.”

“What can I do?” Steve asks, immediate and stricken. He had been trying to work on dinner as they talked, and his pot of water roils and hisses without answer.

“I’ll let you know if there’s anything,” she assures him practically, then sighs, quick and heartfelt and without drama. “But if it is something, I’ll just be so sorry for all the things in your life I’ll miss out on. Your first gallery show—”

“Ma,” Steve protests. No one knows his art better than she does - she signed him up for all the free afterschool art classes and every summer camp they could afford, and there are still paintings of his stored in her apartment a decade after he moved out - but he got his practicality from her, started training in carpentry on the recommendation of George Barnes back when he was a teenager and knew that there wouldn’t be money for college. He’s been able to do more custom woodworking lately and word has been getting around about his skill, but he’s accepted that he won’t be making his living off of the fine arts.

Undeterred, his mother says, “Oh, hush, even hobbyists can have dreams. But if you don’t like that, I’d be happy to see you in a relationship instead. It would ease my heart to know that you’ve found someone who can be beside you.”

And because easing his mother’s heart has always been at the top of his priority list, Steve finds himself blurting, “I’ve actually been dating someone. Now. I’m dating someone now.”

“Oh?” she says keenly. “Well, I hope to meet them someday soon.”

Steve coughs. “I’m sure you will.” He hopes that he’s somehow magically become a better liar in the past thirty seconds than he was for the first thirty years of his life.

Seemingly forgetting her earlier seriousness entirely, his mother adds, “What can you tell me about them? Can I have a name at least?”

“Peggy Carter,” Steve says without pause.

Later, he will ask himself why he didn’t just lie. It’s too soon, I don’t want to jinx anything. We made a bet and I’m not allowed to say her name out loud for a week. She’s a spy and I can only tell you her alias. He will berate himself for not just diving for some sort of distracting conversational offramp: the still-boiling pot, the cat yowling down in the alley, “that’s not important now, what else did your doctor say?” But he will never wonder why this was the name which came out of his mouth. He never has to search for it. She’s always on his mind these days.

“Peggy Carter,” his mother repeats. “Well, I’ll be happy to meet her. I’m off two Saturdays from now, if the two of you would like to drop by for a visit.”

His mother is the only blood family he has, that he’s ever even known. He’ll do anything for her. Even, apparently, say yes to this.

His mother’s follow-up scans come back clear. She tells him that in one breath, and tells him in the next that she’s so looking forward to meeting Peggy this upcoming Saturday.

“I don’t want to put this off until the next time I have a health scare,” she says. “And I could tell she’s important to you just by the way you said her name.”

So in his relief at her news, and to his later horror, instead of saying that he and Peggy have broken up, instead of saying that she has an emergency, instead of saying that she’s gone back to England indefinitely and they’ll just have to do it some other time, he says, “We’re looking forward to it to.”

When Steve confesses his predicament, Bucky laughs so hard that he slips off of his stool at Finnegan’s and almost knocks himself out on the bar.

“Could you at least help while you’re doing that?” Steve asks, torn between impatience and desperation, but his best friend just collapses into laughter again.

His mother already knows most of his friends. He supposes he could hire someone, but that seems like it might be taking it a step too far. And anyway, he’s overwhelmingly thankful that his mother is still healthy; it seems ungrateful, a temptation of fate, to give more weight and trickery to the lie.

Which means that there’s really only one thing left to do.

It doesn’t mean he’s relishing the prospect under the circumstances.

(Though he wouldn’t exactly be opposed to it under others.)

He asks Peggy Carter out for what’s probably the strangest date of her life and certainly the strangest of his on Monday, just as they’re finishing their lunch break. The rest of the crew, coolers over their shoulders, is already heading back over to the job site - Morita knocking his knuckles against that hideous brown hard hat of Dugan’s, Jacques explaining something as Gabe leans in - but Steve always does a quick sweep for trash just to make sure they’ve left the area clear. Peggy is heading in the other direction to track down Phillips. The boss is still legendarily prickly, but he doesn’t trust any architect but her these days.

“Peggy,” Steve forces himself to call before she’s disappeared. He wishes that this were just another one of those times that he had called her back for those innocuous, desperate five extra minutes of chatting. “I need to—Would you—Can I ask you a question? A favor, I guess?”

She tilts her head in invitation and he spills the story as quickly as he can, the rip-off-the-bandaid method.

“—and if you aren’t busy on Saturday, I was wondering if you could come over to say hi to her. It wouldn’t have to be for long, but it would make her really happy and I would—I’d really appreciate it. I can’t tell you how much.”

He stuffs his twisting hands into his pockets as he finishes, and pushes back his shoulders, hoping that he’ll still have a bit of dignity even once she’s rejected him. He doesn’t think she’ll be mean about it - he knows who Peggy is, the type of person to hand back hammers to the apprentices who’ve dropped them with a wordless wink, the type who lets someone else pick the takeout place if they’re having a bad day even when it’s her turn - but still, she’s Peggy Carter, and he’s Steve Rogers, the random guy who she knows from job sites and now the time he’d lied to his mother about dating her and then asked her to help him keep up the ruse.

“That certainly is a predicament,” she says instead of any of the gentle letdowns he was imagining. “But I must ask: why did you pick me?” It’s chilly today but bright, and the noon sun glints off her hair. He catches a smile, there and gone again, at the corners of her mouth.

“I said the first name that came into my head,” he tells her honestly, and then, just as honestly, “And I knew that my mother would like you, if you ever happened to meet each other.”

“Hmm,” says Peggy, smile all the way gone now, as if he’s disappointed her somehow. Her eyes are still soft, though. “Well, I suppose it’s quite lucky I am free on Saturday, then.”

“Lucky,” Steve echoes, and tries to figure out whether it’s true.

“You absolutely will not go out in this weather,” his mother admonishes, her arms set in a way that Steve is extremely familiar with.

“I’m certain that the subway—” Peggy starts.

“Of course the subway will be running,” Sarah says with the confidence of a born New Yorker. “Late and jam-packed, announcing that they’re going express any damn time, and there’s no reason for you to be on it.”

Peggy looks over to Steve as if he might step in, but even as he gives her a wide-eyed, helpless shrug, his mother is already leaving the living room and heading down the hall, calling, “I’ll get fresh sheets for you two, Steve, but please find Peggy something to wear.” (Sarah Rogers is surprisingly strong, but she’s also rail thin and an extremely charitable five foot two, and Peggy is...not. Something Steve has absolutely no complaints about, to be frank.)

They’ve told his mother that they’ve been seeing each other for nearly six months - Steve mostly left that part of the storytelling up to Peggy, who managed to spin something that had enough details to seem plausible but wasn’t so elaborate that Steve had felt bad about misleading his mother with a fairy tale. But even if their relationship was real, there’s no reason to assume that they would have spent the night with each other, that they would be comfortable sharing a bedroom.

“I’ll sleep out here,” Steve says immediately and with vehemence.

Peggy casts her eye over the couch, more of a loveseat really; the living room is too small for much else. “Will you be removing your head or your feet to fit, then?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

Voice low to avoid his mother’s uncanny hearing, he says, “This whole day has already been more than you agreed to. I don’t want to force you into a situation that would make you uncomfortable.”

“I would say the same as it regards you,” she responds. “And if I was uncomfortable with the situation, I believe I would be the first to know. Now, I think I was promised something to sleep in?”

The collection of clothes he keeps at his mother’s is small, but he manages to dig up a large T-shirt and a pair of flannel pants for Peggy and the same for himself. She smiles at him, leaving to change, and he takes the opportunity to do the same before turning to put the sheets his mother had found on the beds, faced head-on with the reminder of the close quarters of his bedroom.

There isn’t much to see: his bed, the tiny closet, a dresser. He used to do his homework at the kitchen table because there wasn’t room for a desk. His bed frame had been a gift representing several birthdays and a Christmas as well, back in elementary school. Every other weekend, he would slide the trundle bed out, gleeful to finally have a chance to have sleepovers with Bucky somewhere other than in sleeping bags on the living room rug. The pull-out had used up all the extra floor space and he’d had to crawl off the end of the bed to use the bathroom in the middle of the night, but when he and Buck were telling each other scary stories quietly enough that his mother wouldn’t hear or reading comics under the covers, taking turns holding the shared flashlight, what had it mattered?

It definitely seems to matter now.

He stares at the two beds, tucked compactly side by side, and realizes that soon he and Peggy are going to be lying in them. Even if he pushes them as far apart as possible, it would be barely two inches before the dresser got in the way. No matter what, their hands could touch across that gap. If she’s a mobile sleeper, they could end up practically curled around one another…

He scrubs a hand vigorously over his face, mussing his hair and probably leaving him red-cheeked, but gathering himself. He makes both beds with care, returning to the linen closet to add top sheets, comforters, and light blankets too; he has no idea how Peggy likes to sleep.

The thought leaves him wide-eyed once again, but it’s too late to force his thoughts elsewhere. Peggy knocks just then, and he tells her to come in, hoping that his voice sounds normal as he does.

“I should have gotten you a toothbrush,” he says immediately upon seeing her, ready to scramble over and take care of it, but she waves a hand.

“Your mother gave me one. She also added my clothing to a basket of laundry she was taking downstairs so I would have ‘something fresh to wear in the morning.’ She wouldn’t hear any protests.”

As if she couldn’t have already figured it out from everything else today, Steve says, “She’s like that.”

“Yes,” Peggy says, thankfully amused. “I assumed.” She turns to the beds and asks, “Now, which would you like?”

Which one he’d like? He can’t think of anything that could matter less. He lists for her the pros and cons of each bed with the care usually reserved for life-changing decisions. She follows along seriously, though he recognizes the touch of humor around her mouth.

Ten minutes later, he is lying on the trundle, and she has her back to him as she examines the spines of the books on the small shelf mounted beside his bed.

She has washed her makeup off and her hair is in a single, simple braid. He’s heard the guys on the crew refer to certain women as “unbelievably beautiful.” Peggy isn’t that. She looks exactly as pretty right now as he had imagined she would, exactly as pretty as she does in her jeans and sensible blouse and Day-Glo vest on the construction site, or the time he had seen her dressed up in a gown for some awards gala, or when he had picked her up that morning and saw her wearing that red sweater with a black pencil skirt and felt lucky just to be walking next to her.

Still, he does find looking at her just now a bit hard. Difficult, he amends quickly, shoving the word hard away. She’s somewhat difficult to look at like this, unraveled and lovely.

“How fantastically minded you were,” she comments, smiling over her shoulder before flipping over to face him. “Is this still the sort of thing you like to read?”

“I usually end up with a bit of everything,” he admits. “But yeah, there’s some great sci-fi and fantasy being written these days.”

“It can be nice,” she says, “visiting other worlds.”

“It can be,” he agrees, not telling her that that’s what today has felt like: however awkwardly, unconventionally attained, it’s been like a brief, wonderful visit to another world.

They were only meant to stay for brunch.

“Don’t cook anything,” he had begged his mother. She was always covering shifts for other people, running errands for neighbors when she wasn’t working, on her feet all day regardless. Having a day off where she hadn’t already scheduled sixteen things was something of a miracle, and he was going to force her to take advantage of it. “I’ll cook.”

Voice somewhat insultingly skeptical down the phone, she’d said, “So, do you already know that this woman has a cast-iron stomach, or are you looking to poison a guest in my home, Steven Rogers?”

In the end, they’d agreed that he would take care of picking up fresh bagels from their favorite place. Of course, when Steve and Peggy arrived, his mother had already set out lox, cut fruit and vegetables, hard boiled eggs, and about six different types of cream cheese.

“You promised not to make anything,” Steve said irritably, giving his mother a hug.

“I promised not to cook,” she corrected. “Boiling a few eggs isn’t cooking. Even you can do that, after all.” And Peggy laughed from beside Steve and stepped forward to introduce herself.

Steve had promised Peggy that they wouldn’t stay longer than a couple of hours, and so at exactly 1:30 he glanced noticeably at his watch and asked if she needed to go to “that other thing you had scheduled.”

“Thankfully not,” she smiled, finishing her piece of crumb cake (his mother swore she just happened to have it left over). “I postponed it, and I’m certainly happy that I did.”

And despite the situation, Steve was happy too - happy that she’d come, happy that she stayed. She and his mother traded stories about their respective jobs, lamenting that even though they were of different generations and worked in completely different fields, one with women as the majority and one with them in the minority, they had so many of the same experiences: dealing with stressed or snappish or condescending people, having their knowledge and authority questioned, and managing to get enormous, important work done skillfully anyway.

“I still love it,” Peggy had said as they moved from the kitchen table to the living room. (Steve barely thought about taking the seat beside Peggy, and then started overthinking why he hadn’t considered more.) “Despite everything, I wouldn’t want to be doing anything else.”

“Of course you wouldn’t,” said Sarah, voice already fond, as if she’s known Peggy more than a few hours. “I wouldn’t either.”

They’d talked about how Steve had taken shop class in high school - a few knickknacks he’d made were even still scattered around the apartment for his mother to show off; when she’d passed one over to him, even though he recognized its amateurishness, he felt a tenderness fill him, as if he was holding the hand of a younger version of himself. When he passed it to Peggy, he felt the gentleness of her hand on it too.

Later, he would realize that it was a bit suspicious for him to talk about how he’d gone from an A- in Shop to a carpentry apprenticeship to starting to work with Phillips’s general contracting company: surely if they had truly been dating, they would have talked about it all at some point before. But in the moment all he saw was the flicker in her eye as she told him that, oh, she certainly remembered his first day working with the crew.

It wasn’t that they didn’t notice the weather turning - the first flakes fell as the light began dimming low and gray toward evening - it was only that they were a bit busy making hot drinks and setting up the Trivial Pursuit board. This was probably how Steve would have been spending his afternoon regardless, but he watched Peggy carefully for signs that she was eager for an escape and simply too polite to say so. He even leaned over when his mother excused herself briefly and asked whether she was sure she still wanted to stay, to which she had responded, “I’ll almost certainly have my sports and leisure wedge after my next turn. Why in the world would I leave?”

When Steve went downstairs to retrieve the Thai takeout they had ordered, he did see that it was getting pretty messy outside. The wind had a bite to it, too, so he gave his order of miso soup to the man who’d delivered the food alongside the tip, and decided to see if there was an extra pair of boots around for Peggy to use later.

But after they’d finished with their dinner and watching The Sound of Music, which had been just starting as they’d flipped through TV channels, his mother had turned to the nine o’clock news, saw how hard the snow was coming down, and refused to be persuaded that a change in footwear would be enough. Truthfully, Steve would probably have stayed without question if he had been by himself, but the fact is that he came with Peggy. Peggy, who had stayed long past the anticipated two hours. Peggy, who he was not actually dating. Peggy, who he was now meant to sleep beside.

“I’m sorry for the early night,” he apologizes again as they lie together in the darkness with the radiator hissing slightly. Not realizing how things would turn out today, he had scheduled a 9 A.M. consult with a couple who were looking to have some built-in bookshelves added and he has be up early enough to bring Peggy home and get back to his apartment to change before heading into Manhattan.

“It’s no trouble,” she assures him again. “There’s nothing at all the matter with getting a good night’s rest.”

“And I’m sorry again about everything. About how today turned out, and for getting you into it into the first place.”

“Oh Steve,” she sighs. “Will you shut up about that, please?” and even though her tone lacks sharpness, the words are enough for him to flip over toward her in surprise. “I truly enjoyed myself today. And I would have come even if you had simply asked me without any sort of exceptional circumstances.”

“What do you—?”

“I liked meeting your mother. She’s nothing at all like mine, which perhaps is why I appreciate her so much. I liked sitting around and talking, playing games and eating good food and singing along with Julie Andrews, and I liked spending time with you.” Her voice dips even softer. “I liked it all, and I would have come anyway, if you had only asked.”

With the cloud cover and the snow still coming down, the window lets in little light. He can’t make out her expression, can’t see if she’s just saying things out of tiredness, or reminiscing about a pleasant afternoon, or if she might just be hinting at something which would justify the elevated beating of his heart.

He nearly thanks her for being a good friend, but somehow, the way that she’s turned onto her side to face him as well, an invitation, makes him breathe in and say, “But you’re Peggy Carter. I don’t know why you would have bothered.”

“Is that what you think of me?” she asks. He’s never heard her voice with that twisting edge to it and it takes a moment for him to recognize it: hurt. “That I’m some high and mighty miss, and I would never deign to even look at the likes of you?”

“No!” he says, not frantic, hard and simple and factual, trying to make her see. “It’s just that you’re Peggy Carter,” he repeats. “There are probably a dozen awards on your shelves. I’ve seen you skewer guys with a half dozen words for propositioning you, then get right back to work. Phillips doesn’t like anyone except his dog, but he turns down projects if you aren’t going to be working on them. You wanted to design buildings and you made that happen for yourself. You’ve worked on dozens of projects and they’re all different but I’ve wanted to stay in each one, even the offices.” His voice doesn’t drop as he continues, even as he half hopes that his words will be lost in the pillow beneath his head. “You’re creative and determined and gorgeous and fascinating and funny. Just talking to you should be any thinking person’s favorite thing. And I’m only a guy.”

She inhales deeply through her nose, as if she is trying to keep her temper somehow, but when she speaks, her voice is calm. “When there are novices on a job, you’re the one who helps them through their nerves and shows them the right way to do things. Other women have told me that they like to work on the same site as you because they know you would never make them uncomfortable and you’ve fought anyone who tried. After an evening out, you give your share of the tip and then stay behind and add a bit extra. You do it every time, Steve. I’ve watched you.”

“Anyone could—”

“The first day I met you,” she interrupts, “you introduced yourself to Mr. Jarvis. Most people don’t, you know. They’re too busy noticing Howard to even pay attention. The day after, you brought soup for Ana because you had heard she was ill. I don’t know anyone else who would have done that, bring soup for someone who he’d never met, the wife of the electrician’s admin he’d only known for a day.” Even with the hiss and clank of the heating, he thinks he can make out every dimension of the breath she takes in before she adds, low and direct, “You’re loyal and sharp and kind, you make wonderful art and adore your mother, and you’re so upstandingly moral I half expect you to ride into work one day on a white steed. Had you not kept moving away every time I tried to get near, I would have asked you out long ago. And if you had asked me all the way back then, before I knew anything else, I would have said yes too, just because of the soup.”

It’s been three years since he started working with Phillips, three years of watching from across construction zones as she cut stubborn men down to size with a sharp word (or her fist if necessary), of lingering at lunch for the chance to see her smile or hear her opinion on current affairs or some article that they had both read. All that time of thinking that she would never possibly consider him more than a friend, and she already had.

“Can I—” he starts, his hand moving tentatively into the tiny space between their beds. She catches his fingers with hers and lifts them to her mouth, placing a delicate kiss on the backs of his knuckles. His breath comes sharply into his lungs.

He has, a time or two thousand, pictured some imaginary world where she might kiss him one day. This isn’t at all how he envisioned it in any of those dreams - they were never in side-by-side twin beds at his mother’s house, for one thing.

Nothing in him cares.

When she says goodbye to him the next morning, his mother gives him an innocent smile and a reminder to drop by a Duane Reade for chapstick and...anything else they might need. He almost tells her that they were only kissing, but doesn’t think it will help. Besides, he was trying to avoid embarrassing details by stripping the beds before she woke up so she wouldn’t notice that the sheets had only been truly mussed on one.

(He wouldn’t have been expecting that sleeping in a narrow bed with Peggy half sprawled on top of him would be wonderful, but he’ll be the first to admit that he isn’t right about everything.)

Exactly fifty-one weeks later, his mother asks him how he and Peggy are celebrating their anniversary. He’s halfway through telling her before he realizes that she’s not supposed to know that it’s their anniversary at all, that she’s still meant to think they’ve been together a year and a half already.

“As if you’ve been able to lie to me once in your life, Steven Rogers,” she says with a laugh. “You said her name and I knew that you weren’t telling me the whole truth the same moment I knew that she meant something to you anyway. Now tell me about the ring.”

“How did you—?”

He has the feeling she’s waving a dismissive hand on her end of the phone. “Nothing in the world easier than reading you, sweetheart.” Her tone turns a bit thoughtful. “Peggy, on the other hand, she’s a bit harder. But even that first time you brought her here, I could tell. When the time comes for you to ask, she’ll say yes.”

She’s right.

[ssolessurvivor]

Logan would say he hadn't been to the Smithsonian exhibit simply because he didn't have the time for it. There were always too many people there too, and he still struggled with enclosed spaces and the amount of people bobbing around within the walls. Hearing Steve recount his old life though, Logan couldn't help but smile a bit. "I'm sure if I would've met the original Steve, he would be great in his own way. I mean...he brought you here, didn't he? Even a good artist knows how to achieve what he wants most."

Just a guy from Brooklyn. Logan smiled at that, the way it's so humble, and it would only come from someone like Steve. "Don't discount yourself so much, Steve." Logan's voice is soft, not hard or rude or cruel, just sparing and quiet. "What you did deserves merit and recognition. And I'm not talking about the Captain, here, either. I'm talking about you." With that, Logan punctuated it with a soft poke of his foot on the arch of it, maybe letting his fingers linger if only for the excuse he's lazy and doesn't want to move. "You were always the hero first, Steve. And you continue to be."

The blonde considered, though, Steve's words and how to answer since the conversation was shifting again. Logan smiled and shook his head quietly, some hair falling lose. "I mean...it's one way to go through life." He says with a shrug. His hand does retract though, going into his lap together, beginning to rub the back of his one hand, that spot. "Since I didn't get a chance to die, I guess I just have to keep going. I use it to cope anyways." He says with a soft smile, peeking at Steve and then exhaling, truly wondering. "Well, I guess you could say I've already been an astronaut, so that's out." He teases with a genuine smile. "You know, I don't know...I guess just doing what I do now with friends, carpentry and construction. Or maybe being a park ranger."

@walkitoffrogers

@ssolessurvivor

"Most people don't." He gave a small smile to show he wasn't offended. It wasn't something most people would assume about Steve by looking at him, and given that it wasn't really a part of his life anymore, they weren't entirely wrong. There were a couple of his drawings in the museum exhibit at the Smithsonian, and Steve had chosen a couple of art prints for his apartment, but otherwise there weren't a lot of signs that he even had an interest in it. "You would have before the war. I was small. Sick a lot. Art was one of the only things I was good at, and I loved it."

He paused to let the words sink in, slightly taken aback by them. Steve had never thought of himself as brave, despite that being a key part of the Captain America symbolism. He didn't buy into his own propoganda, not in the slightest, and it was easy to discount the opinions of everyone who did. It was a different thing to hear it from a friend and a fellow soldier, someone who actually knew him, but that didn't mean Steve was any better at accepting the compliment. "Just a guy from Brooklyn. I did what needed doing, that's all."

He listened quietly, always glad to hear more about Logan's life before he'd known him. "Still your choice, and not everyone can make it. You're just as brave, you know. You did something good." It wasn't an easy thing to walk into, knowing they might not walk back out. It wasn't easy to keep going after they'd lost so much either. He'd always admired Logan's courage and his determination to keep getting up. "What about now? What would you want to do, if you could do anything?"

[ao3feed-stucky]

by FlamingoQueen

After another few minutes, Steve stops humming, sits up and frowns. “What is that?” he asks. “The one you got stuck in my head. I know it but I can’t place it.”

“Monty Python,” Bucky grunts. Thwack goes the rock, not missing a beat. “Lumberjack song.” Thwack. “Seemed appropriate.”

“Yeah?”

Bucky stands upright with a wince and a groan, leaving the wedge where it is, but letting the rock drop to the ferns at his feet. “Well, I’m a fucking prehistoric lumberjack, Steve, and I am okay.” He runs a forearm across his brow and turns to face him, careful not to get his feet tangled up in the smaller branches and spent wedges littering his work area.

“I’m more than okay,” he adds, no evidence in his voice of anything beyond playful boasting and a hint of breathlessness from exertion, though Steve knows he’s got to be hurting. “I am the shit.”

(Or: Steve and Bucky do some prehistoric carpentry.)

Words: 5625, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 7 of Fossilized

Fandoms: Captain America (Movies)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Steve Rogers

Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers

Additional Tags: Vacation, Time Travel, Dinosaurs, Pine Trees, Established Relationship, Post-Recovery Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, (it's pronounced "coping mechanisms"), Steve Rogers Has Issues, (also pronounced "coping mechanisms"), Crack Treated Seriously, Implied/Referenced Blow Jobs, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Needless Risk Taking, No one gets hurt, This is still Happy Steve after all, Singing, Mentions of Elvis Presley Songs, Crooning Bucky Barnes, uwu Steve Rogers, Protect the knives, Bucky hates the Beach Boys, or does he?, Prehistoric lumberjack super soldiers, To build a raft

[nancykali]

Stranger Things young adults - lesser known things about them

Jonathan Byers is known for being into rock, alternative, and experimental music, and his photography. But what most don’t know about him is he also loves working with his hands—just not to commit violence, like his dad wanted him to. His mom taught him sewing years before Lonnie made him go out into the woods and shoot a gun. He loved building Castle Byers with Will, even though they had to work in the rain. When he was younger he made hemp bracelets for his parents and for Will, but it made Lonnie so angry and disdainful toward him that Jonathan never made anything that could be jewelry after that. He loves gardening, and helped his mom with a small herb garden before they had to move out of Lonnie’s place and Joyce had to work far more hours. He helped her dig the fire pit in their backyard when he was 13, and before getting a part-time job, was able to keep up a small vegetable garden Joyce helped him start. He loves doing carpentry with Steve, and after February 1984 he makes hemp bracelets for both Steve and Nancy. Nancy makes several with him, and on El’s fourteen birthday she and Jonathan each make one for El. Eventually the whole party is wearing bracelets Jonathan, Nancy, and El made for them. A couple years into dating Nancy and Steve, they both encourage him to do a pottery class with them, and Jonathan has the time of his life. The house they all own together nearly a decade later is decorated with Jonathan’s pottery, and a lot of the wood furniture was crafted by Jonathan, or Jonathan and Steve together. And of course Jonathan is in charge of which flowers and vegetables get planted in their yard, when and where, because he knows the most about it.

Nancy Wheeler took ballet until she was thirteen years old, and she ran track in middle school. Her mother and some of her female friends at the time discouraged her from continuing track in high school, so she didn’t. She never got back into ballet because she thought she was too out of shape, and honestly would’ve rather continued with track, if she’d been given the choice. But when her mother gave her the choice of getting rid of her old ballet shoes, Nancy let her do it, and resolved she wouldn’t go back to ballet if she couldn’t be on the high school girls track team either. But when she was closer friends with Jonathan and Steve in middle school (and before) she loved to race them on the track, and she won the majority of the time. She never was a show off, and outwardly very humble, but secretly she was proud of herself for beating the boys. Neither Steve nor Jonathan ever made her feel bad for beating them either. The first time she beat Steve in a race, he’d been so surprised and said several times how that shouldn’t have been possible because he was taller than her. Jonathan and Nancy teased him into a rematch, and Nancy still won. From then on Steve never said anything derogatory about Nancy beating him. Later in their lives, Nancy continues to prove her endurance in other ways. She has a high pain tolerance, can be sleep deprived the longest, and is the only one to run marathons for fun. She also has the sharpest aim with a gun (even superior to Kali).

Steve Harrington didn’t know how to swim until he was eleven years old, and Jonathan and Nancy had to teach him. It was the summer before his sixth grade year, and Nancy and Jonathan’s fifth grade year. They were all hanging out at one of the lakes, Karen their chaperone, with six year olds Mike and Will there too. Steve was extremely embarrassed that he couldn’t swim, and wouldn’t admit it until Nancy and Jonathan encouraged him to come swim with them. He’d planned to just stay on shore helping Karen with Mike and Will, and helping set up roasting hot dogs and marshmallows, but Nancy and Jonathan would not let him stay on shore until he finally confessed the truth, whispering so Karen and the two younger boys didn’t hear. Nancy and Jonathan were surprised but understanding, and Nancy yelled to Karen that they were going to walk through the woods for a bit, and Karen just told them to be back before sundown. On a more secluded stretch of beach Jonathan and Nancy taught Steve how to swim. And Steve takes to the water like nobody’s business - within a couple hours he’s swimming like it was second nature to him. Neither Jonathan nor Nancy are surprised when Steve takes a lifeguard job in summer of 1984, and every summer after until the three of them move out of Hawkins together. When he doesn’t have the time to be a lifeguard, he still goes swimming at the indoor pool just for exercise. 

Kali Prasad has many secrets, so really everything about her is lesser-known by her small group of friends. She’s a survivalist with leadership skills and remarkable creativity because of living a dangerous, precarious existence nearly her entire life. Every day had been a test of endurance, necessitating taking calculated risks and coming up with solutions to live through another day, mentally and physically. Kali doesn’t discover her more leisurely interests until she’s well into her teens. She loves Star Trek. She likes drawing, but it will be several years before she discovers the particular art associated with tattooing. She entertains the idea of becoming an engineer for a long time, but even then that’s a far off dream, in a universe where the remnants of the lab are no longer a danger to her. She likes singing, but has never performed or touched an instrument. After dating Nancy for four months, her girlfriend gifts her a sketchbook. She helps Steve fix up motorcycles just for fun. She learns how to shoot different firearms alongside Nancy. She shares art ideas with Jonathan. And she and El discover a lot of their interests together; painting, watching dramas, reading fantasy and science fiction and literature focusing on women. El and Nancy’s first trip alongside Kali back to Chicago involves graffiting and Kali and El visit a tattoo parlor to explore the idea of getting their wrist tattoos covered. Only then does Kali really acknowledge her passion for art becoming something she could explore, rather than just a fun pastime.

[ornament-of-rhyme]

Hi! I read your Spazkins fanfictions and I think they're really adorable! Can you perhaps give us some headcanons about them?

Hi there! Despite what it may seem,considering how long it’s taken me to reply to you, I am goddamnstoked that you asked about this! (I am so sorry to keep you waiting,though.) Thank you for asking, and thank you very much for reading mystories. I’m happy you liked them.

As the length of this post can attest,I have a lot of feelings about these characters to share with anyonewho will listen, but I must confess that many of my headcanonsdevelop during the writing process. Seeing as I’ve only written acouple of short fics for this pair, I still haven’t developed myversion of them as much as I would like. However, I do have someheadcanons, both for these characters as individuals and as a couple.It’s entirely possible they’re not exactly interesting HCs,but they help me flesh out the characters as I continue working withthem.

Before I go on, I want to take a moment to state that these are only headcanons, interpretations, and observations, not things that I am trying to present as fact or push into fanon. I’m just having too much fun with these characters.

Since you read my stories youalready know, but for anyone else who stumbles upon this, when Iwrite these characters I use the names Gilbert “Gil” Braun akaSpaz, and Edwin "Eddie/Ed” Hopkins. I’m also throwing in a fewheadcanons about another background character in the film, listed inthe credits simply as Stick, though I call him Norman “Norm”James. In my mind, he’s Gil’s best friend, so he’s relevant toSpazkins in that way.

This cutie is Stick, by theway:

Now, on to the headcanons! Hopefully Ican put them in some sort of coherent order. (Note from future Orn:This post oscillates between being a disorganized essay and a list, but hopefully it’s intelligibleanyhow!)

I’ll start with Gil and Norm, seeing asI headcanon them as having known each other the longest out of thesethree. In fact, I like to think Norm was Gil’s first friend atWelton.Norm was given the nickname Stick by his peers becausehe is the smallest kid in their year. Seriously, look at the guy.

Stick indeed.

I began to associate him with Spazbecause the two of them are seen with the Poets multiple times in thefilm—including at meals, where they are the only two non-Poets atthat table. I imagine they have complementary personalities, and werefast friends because of it. Likely they were drawn to each otherbecause of the things people think are odd about them; namely, Gilhaving health problems and Norm being small and thin. I headcanonthat Gil and Norm are able to bond over being avid readers of sci-finovels and pulp fiction, and once they’re out of school they becomeequally eager viewers of The Twilight Zone. (The latter, Edwin findshimself enjoying as well.)

In my mind, Norm is related in some wayto Nolan. Grandfather, uncle—I don’t know how yet, but I amdetermined to work this into one of my future stories. Due to hisrelationship to the dean, he isn’t bullied like Gil, but he is teasedon occasion, as most boys know he isn’t the type to tell Nolan. (It’snot like he’s overly fond of the man, either.) The teasing he gets isnot as rude as that which Gil has received. But after a number ofyears at Welton, someone came along who did much to stomp out theworst of the bullying on Gil’s behalf…

Two years before the events of thefilm, Edwin Hopkins enrolled in Welton Academy and was assigned adorm room with Gilbert. It was tense at first, with Gil unsure how tointeract with someone so aloof and, according to how Edwin presentedhimself to his peers, apathetic. However, they slowly built up acompanionable relationship when Edwin began to take it upon himselfto blandly intimidate or retaliate against those who teased orbullied Gilbert. Edwin wouldn’t react violently, or even loudly, buthe knew how to get people to knock it off, if only temporarily.

At first, Edwin was taken in by Gil’smore awkward, innocent demeanor and became protective of him becauseof it, while Gil’s feelings developed as he floundered in surprisethat he is being defended by someone he would have expected topartake in the bullying. They started speaking more in their room,and their friendship developed from there.

After Edwin madeit known to others that Gilbert was under his wing, so to speak, thebullying generally eased into lighter teasing. Though it remained anissue for Gil, his time at Welton improved significantly with thischange.

And while Edwin is something of aguardian angel to Gil, Gil pulls his weight in the friendship.Gilbert is the voice of reason, the wiser mind, of the two boys. Heknows how to get Edwin to listen, to stop and think before doingsomething reckless or impulsive. He also takes care of Edwin in hisown ways; he makes sure Edwin is awake in the morning and doesn’tmiss breakfast, offers help with homework, puts in an effort to cheerEd up if he is brooding, and so on.

Edwin is surprisinglythoughtful when it comes to Gil’s needs as well. As I wrote in TheSickly and the Meathead, he even thinks to tell Gil where he’sputting aside his glasses, that way he doesn’t have to blindly searchfor them. This is because when it comes to something he cares about,Edwin is quite detail-oriented. This is also the case with hisinterest in carpentry (touched upon in Safe in the Boughs, as well aslater in this post.) He considers the little things, and he thinksahead. Along that same line, Edwin checks in with Gilbert to makesure he doesn’t miss any doses of medication. He does it so casually,one would think he’d been doing it for years. Gil might be puttingaway his clothes as Edwin works at his desk, and without turningaround Ed asks if he remembered to take his medicine. Gil says yes,because of course he remembered, Ed grunts in acknowledgment, andthat’s that. Gil thinks it’s sweet.

Another way Edwin expresses hisaffection is through gifts, and the best example of this is TheBlanket of ‘58. See, Gil has two more blankets on his bed than theother boys, but they don’t hold in heat well enough for him. Knowingthis, in late November of his second year at Welton, Edwin gives Gila heavy crochet blanket as an early Christmas present. His motherbegan working on the blanket the previous winter after Edwin wrylycommented that his roommate was likely to freeze to death during oneof the cold winter nights at Welton. Despite his typical stoicism,she saw his fondness for Gilbert early on and was eager to make ablanket for this friend who mattered enough to Edwin to be mentionedoutside the context of sports and class. Later, Gil’s mother wouldexpress her thanks to Mrs. Hopkins by inviting their family todinner, where the parents hit it off. It is this meeting thatinitiated the friendship between the Hopkins and Braun families.

Above all, Eddie is a man of actionover words, and thus it is through his actions that he mostfrequently expresses his affections. Touches, kisses, favors—whetherrequested or not—he makes it known to Gil how he feels. And hisfeelings can run deep, especially where Gilbert is concerned. Even ashe threw himself into building their tree house (featured in Safe inthe Boughs), Edwin more than once indulged in idea of one day havinga real house to share with Gilbert.

All that said, it isn’t entirelyunheard of for Edwin to verbally express his feelings to Gil. Termsof endearment they’ve come to use are simply “baby” (Edwinaddresses Gil as such, though it is in private and not too frequent)and “Eddie.” Edwin’s pals at Welton often refer to him asEddie, too, but he finds that Gil’s voice can make it ring with sucha level of emotional intimacy that it may as well be an entirelydifferent name.

Kissing was a bit difficult for them atfirst. It took the two of them a while to get used to heavy kissingdue to Gil’s braces, but eventually they learned how to work aroundit. Another problem that occasionally crops up is that Edwin is verygood at taking Gil’s breath away, and as nice as that sounds, Gilneeds as much as he can get because, of course, he suffers from SteveRogers Syndrome. That is to say, his medical records are expansive,but he’s not on the verge of death. He is even able to participate insports at Welton, but is given much leniency. Chess and croquet aremore his deal.

Alright, I feel like this would be agood time to talk about their hobbies and other activities.

I believe Hopkins may canonicallybe captain of the soccer team. Though if this is the case, why did heflub his kick in the poetry/soccer exercise? To joke around? I don’tknow. My jury’s out on this one, but I think it’s interesting. I’mmostly basing this theory on the shirt he wears in these scenes:

I don’t know a dingle damn thing about sport ball, but I’m pretty sure that shirt denotes something important.

(Along a similar vein, though it isn’tnecessarily relevant to this post, I believe Keating may be thecoach. He even has a history with soccer. According to his schoolannual, he was the captain of his soccer team for a bit.)

Along with soccer,I have a headcanon that Edwin has a passion for carpentry! It beganwhen, as a child, he was told that Jesus Christ had been a carpenter.Thinking that was rad as fuck, Ed took a strong interest in it. Eventhough his faith grew weaker over the years, he maintained his lovefor carpentry independently of that.

General aloofnessaside, Edwin also likes to joke around with and show off in front ofhis friends. He’s even willing to do so in front of authority figuresif he thinks he can get away with it. Though he doesn’t strike me as someonewho brazenly defies authority when he knows it will end inpunishment. Keating in particular has proven he is willing to put upwith Ed’s dumb shenanigans—though, as is shown in the movie, hedoesn’t appreciate or reward them. I agree with Keating’s jabs at thestunts he pulls. They’re not just disruptive, they’re lazy. I like toimagine that the laziness of the jokes is more of a bother to Keatingthan the fact that they’re happening in the middle of class.

As for Gil’spreferred activities, he is a pianist. The organ player at Weltonpicked up on his interest in the instrument, and offered to teachhim. Gil agreed, and discovered he enjoyed it. As he pursued theactivity outside of Welton, his family was able to procure a pianofor their home on which he continued to practice. He also enjoysbird-watching. (With this in mind, Edwin gives him a new pair ofbinoculars for his birthday one year. He doesn’t get the appeal ofthe activity, but Gil lights up when he talks about the birds, so Edhas no qualms humoring him.) And as I said before, Gil has fungeeking out with Norm over sci-fi.

Now for some stragglers:

-Gilbert’s fatherreminds me of George McFly. That’s all I have to say about that.

-Gilbert’smedications are kept in Hager’s office, so Gil has to visit him inthe morning and before bed to take his medicine.

-I can’t tell forsure if it’s true to life, but I like to imagine that Gil is tallerthan Ed.

-Edwinloves the silkiness of Gil’s hair, and Gil likes to card his fingersthrough Ed’s shorter 'do. And, though he doesn’t appreciate the cause,Ed thinks Gil’s consistently red nose is adorable.

-Edwin’s friendsat school are not a tight-knight group. Notice that as he smugly readhis Truly Great poem The Cat Sat On The Mat (coming to a poetry slam near you), Hopkins was looking for the reactions of some of the boys around his own desk. None of these boysstood at the end of the film. Not saying this is canon, but it makessense to me.

-Gil’smother embroiders handkerchiefs before gifting them to him. Some aremonogrammed, others are only patterns or simple images. He sometimesfinds it embarrassing, but she puts so much love into herembellishments that he has never spoken a word of dissent.

-And finally, if you manage to catch agood look at Hopkins in the film, he has some birthmarks on hisface–small indentations on the left side near his hairline, and aline coming off the outer edge of his right brow. Wait, I have ascreencap for this one, too!

Sometimeshe’s asked if they’re scars and what caused them, and just for kickshe comes up with a different answer each time. He doesn’t care thatpeople notice, and isn’t particularly self-conscious about them. Moreoften than not he only remembers they exist when Gil gathers theinitiative to press his lips to them.

And that’s my current lot of Spazkins headcanons!

Thankyou again for asking, iamidentical. Your question not only helped me think more complexly about these characters, but it also led to a new idea for a Spazkins fic. It felt good to share thesethoughts with you.

[hardestgrove]

CURRENT OC SITUATION:

bios for the kings (Adam, Christina, Emily, Jackson, David, Stacy, Alison): HERE

Jodi Pierce: same year as nancy + jonathan. was friends with benefits with billy until he got his shit together and got with [preferred partner for billy here]. they're still friends bc she's literally is only one lol. very style forward. socially mobile and well liked without really belonging anywhere. new wave, funk and proto-indie. likes the muppets, puppets and animatronics and makes puppets of her own for comedy shit. dates robin. finds out she and eddie are half siblings bc her mom had an affair w/ his dad pre-3 bc her mom has a crisis about them being in the same grade now. it's a mess but they're working on it.

Shannon Harrington: roughly nancy's age. steve's younger sister. she's also very popular and extremely funny. she's on the volleyball and cheerleading teams. she's a loud pain in the ass and deeply weird when you actually know her. she's Peak annoying younger sister. still considers steve probably her best friend bc he's the only one who actually knows her and still likes her. she is a tinkerbell who will die without attention and her entire outward personality is geared to ensuring attention. also has like no filter, no shame and says wild shit so often. pop music fiend.

Rhiannon Hargrove: nancy's age. billy's younger biological sister. named after the fleetwood mac song and hates it. is one of those memes of someone who looks sweet and nice that has the subtitle of something like "i'm about to fucking lose it". she and billy pretty co-dependent and rhia's life is heavily controlled by neil and billy tho for different reasons. trying to make this new family shit work but people are Testing Her. can be just as shitty as billy but is usually better at reigning her anger in for the most part (or really she just lets it stew until she Snaps lol rip). a little pop-y and little boho. she and chrissy would get on except that rhia would snap jason's spine over her fucking knee in 0.0005 secs of meeting him so lol. takes after their mother a lot in looks and personality, not sure how she feels about that since she's not a fan of her as much as billy still is. still tries to fight back against neil when he gets physical about 50% of the time, usually when he's going after billy.

Richard Brandon Mayfield: goes by his middle name brandon bc he hates richard. is about 14-15 when they move to hawkins. he's the epitome of the DW "this sign can't stop me because i can't read!" meme. he's a dipshit and he means business. literally all the other siblings are smarter than him but he doesn't give a shit and it's not a thing for him. he's gay and he's so aggressively average about it. like he just is what he is and like ???? that's it???? doesn't think their dad is as cool as max does. deadass tries to go toe to toe with neil every. single. time. you cannot TELL this child otherwise. he is a fratboy and an idiot and he could be 100000% shifaced and never get your pronouns wrong even tho he doesn't get SHIT about what ur talking about. he's gonna go to trade school after hs for carpentry. he and will get together at some point lol.

[saltyobjecttheorist]

Thoughts on The Path S3E6 “Messiah” Biblical rambling, theories and possible spoilers!

Messiah: the anointed one,” or “the chosen one.” The question is.. Chosen for what? 

So firstly the Title is echoed in Eddie’s opening lines regarding Carpentry (Dude, Hanks been using a hammer since before you were born.) 

And closing lines which bare a striking resemblance to those from a certain slightly more well known prophet of The Light.

Contrast and compare

Eddie Lane:

“ But All who decide to follow me, Like Hank, will find their place in the Garden.”

Jesus Christ: 

 “I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me.”

And speaking of Fathers, lots of Daddy issues in this episode: More on that in a moment. 

They’ve been playing up the Eddie Christ analogy all season, complete with a prophesy regarding his sacrifice for the salvation of mankind. And a symbolic resurrection from a grave in the last episode.  I predicts a Gethsemane moment of doubt for him in the near future. Then a death to save humanity...Then maybe another miracle. 

Biblical Tangent. 

Do you know why Christ is called ‘ The redeemer?”

Fun fact. Very early In the old Testament they used to sacrifice the firstborn of every male animal to God the Father. 

Exodus 13:2

“Consecrate to me all the firstborn. Whatever is the first to open the womb among the people of Israel, both of man and of beast, is mine.”

Including humans. Yes you heard correctly the firstborn male children were sacrificed 8 days after birth. Some people (me) think that circumcision (traditionally performed 8 days after birth) is a remnant of this. 

Later this became anathema to the Hebrew people and was only performed by the worshipers of “lesser Gods” like Baal.

The rules changed. 

Exodus 13:11-16 

“When the Lord brings you into the land of the Canaanites, as he swore to you and your fathers, and shall give it to you, you shall set apart to the Lord all that first opens the womb. All the firstborn of your animals that are males shall be the Lord's. Every firstborn of a donkey you shall redeem with a lamb, or if you will not redeem it you shall break its neck. Every firstborn of man among your sons you shall redeem. And when in time to come your son asks you, ‘What does this mean?’ you shall say to him, ‘By a strong hand the Lord brought us out of Egypt, from the house of slavery. For when Pharaoh stubbornly refused to let us go, the Lord killed all the firstborn in the land of Egypt, both the firstborn of man and the firstborn of animals. Therefore I sacrifice to the Lord all the males that first open the womb, but all the firstborn of my sons I redeem.’ 

TL:DR? God doesn’t want your firstborn sons anymore. You must redeem the life of a human baby for the life of a lamb instead.  

Which is why Jesus is called the “Son of God”

Which is why Jesus is called the “Lamb of God”

which is why Jesus is called the “Redeemer.”

Jesus was a human sacrifice that we swapped for our own souls. 

Biblical tangent over

Why, you ask, did I go off on such a tangent? Well I suppose my point is that Old Testament religion? Somewhat fucked up, and cruel to children, and only redeemable through the sacrifice and resurrection of a Messiah. 

Just like old time Meyerism...Sorry Eddie. You wanna shake things up you’re gonna piss off the wrong people and they will probably crucify you. 

The only thing is, temper, lack of patience,resentment or violence towards dudes who banged or are currently banging your ex wife... Those things aren’t very Christ like are they? Eddie is indeed still a human man. With human failings. He got his miracle and that enough for his followers. But did he really earn it through spiritual growth? This is one of the most interesting questions the show asks IMHO.

Another thing I noticed: 

Cal as John the Baptist.

This wasn’t as apparent in this episode but upon his return to the compound Cal said he’d been in ‘The Wilderness.” Like a certain ragged  locust and honey eating harbinger of Christ. 

At least thats how he was selling himself. 

“I am a voice crying in the wilderness, Make straight the way of the Lord,“

Indeed Cal acts as a warm up act for Eddie in much the same way  that John the Baptist paved the way for Christ . 

With one MAJOR difference. 

John the Baptist was asked if he, himself was the Messiah:

“When the men were come unto him, they said, John Baptist hath sent us unto thee, saying, Art thou he that should come? or look we for another?” 

He replied:

“This is he who comes after me and he was preferred in honor before me; he whose sandal strap I am unworthy to loose.”

This is, a show of humility to the power of the Messiah. Something of which Cal isn’t capable. He wont “ Play second fiddle to God.”

HOWEVER: 

 Cal may have begun as a shill pretending to be John the Baptist. But deep down somewhere is an actual belief in Eddies miracle. Cal was shaken to his foundations. Just because he cant play second fiddle to God that doesn’t mean he doesn’t believe in God.

 Indeed, deep down maybe he wants Eddie to be God, and clean the corruption that came before him.

Cal longs for a Messiah. And has done since season 1, where he quotes Christ on redemption and mercy ( after murdering Silas).

He is listening to Mother Theresa on Christ’s sacrifice early in Season 2 (replacing his self help tapes.)

He might have a neurotic need for control due to his terrifying childhood. But what he truly needs is redemption, and he knows a Christ figure can give him that. This is in strange contrast to Sarah’s desire for punishment for her sins. More than anything Cal wants mercy. 

Also if anyone was wondering,  the pictures over Cal and Mary’s beds in the “Pageantry” episode are of John the Baptist and the Risen Christ.

Thing is, blackmailing and power grabbing do not a John The Baptist make... He is, lets not forget, a ruined human being. He may never heal enough to attain enlightenment but he is trying. Its interesting that in the last episode he agreed to give up the blackmail. And showed genuine growth in regard to his relationship with Mary. 

Daddy:

Father issues galore in this episode alone. Let us count the dads on the show. 

Hank: THE Dad. The beloved father, although his personal authority wasn’t of the “patriarchal elder” sort. He wasn’t and Old Testament Father. He was a Dad. 

His primary characteristic was kindness. He loved his children. Remember him ‘threatening’ Eddie over the supposed affair? Or his refusal to abandon Tessa? Or the fact that he’d fly to Peru to support his Son during crisis? He may have lived in a denial ruled cloud of hash smoke but his heart was in the right place and his was a big heart. And his grandkids adored him.  Remember Summer’s response to finding out he’d broken the rules and seen Tessa when everyone else freaked out?

Eddie: The literal and symbolic dad struggling both literally and symbolically to be a dad. As a rule it’s a bad sign when cult leaders demand to be called Father, Daddy or any variation thereof. Because it infantilises the acolytes and puts them in a position of dependance. Eddie didn’t want this... At first. But perhaps came to realise that his followers actually did. They don’t want self actualisation as much as safety. It ‘aint healthy but its human nature. 

Cal: Surprisingly gentle dad, while not being openly affectionate (with anyone) he is very, very protective of his baby. He almost seems a little afraid to physically engage with Forest ( and Mary) But If he is standoffish with his family its because he grew up literally sharing a sleeping bag with Steve. lack of physical boundaries can be just as damaging as too many. Say what you like about Cal, he’s a better dad than either of his dads. 

Wesley Cox: He was no Hank thats for fucking sure: We wont miss him. Back in Season 1 The characters actions were much more black and white in terms of good and evil action. Season 2 bought a sense of liminality to their morality and season 3 has done aways with moral absolutism. I don’t think she was right to murder him. But she wasn’t wrong either. 

Steve: Creepy Old Testament God who requires child sacrifice and chosen sons. Quite simply a con artist, sadist and monster. A betrayer of innocence and all round fuck face. 

Russell: I don’t know anymore I Just can’t with him. I think he’s kind of useless on every level. He is a maker of song and folklore though. And so he is valuable to Meyerist culture I guess?

And what of the feminine energy among all this sausage swinging? Well we have the forgotten or hidden Mother: 

Lillith: Excised from history, like Esoteric spirituality was cut out of the Gospels. Who, I am starting to suspect was not terribly different to Steve, remember she calls Vera ‘ Her greatest joy’, which is what Steve called Cal. And isn’t she spiritually abusing her daughter? But she wasn’t revered and worshipped like him, she was hidden from our sight. Until now. 

Gabby: Gatekeeper and enabler to Steven Meyer and true believer. No religion can function without women like Gab willing to sacrifice their children to it. 

Sarah: Fiercely protective and willing to be deeply unpopular in order to instil her perception of morality. She is fighting against forces she has no awareness of YET. She has become the Spiritual seeker and Heretic. Her children are often threatened symbolically on the show and one of her greatest motivations is to hold onto her kids and keep them safe. She is ( lIke Eddie) always falling short of what she feels she ought to be. And working clandestinely and hidden to uncover the truth. 

Nicole: female equivalent to Russell. Resentful, unhappy in her role ( She didn’t want all those kids.) A casualty to the patriarchal nature of Meyerism. She quite possibly resents Meyerism as a whole for the loss of her parents.  

Mary: Mary is the type of person who would take her baby with her to a crack den rather than leave him with a stranger. ‘Nuff said. Forest is a part of her. She is rarely seen without him. She would kill before allowing that kid out of her sight. She is almost an architypal mother ( “Mother Mary’) . But she is also working secretly and manipulatively behind the scenes.

Predictions? 

My latest prophesy regarding  the outcome? Well with all this talk of fathers, children and firstborn sons. My suspicion is that Eddie will die to save little Forest. He did take responsibility and promise never to let the little guy down. He will redeem himself for the life of Cal’s first born son. 

Other thoughts: 

Finally after unearthing his trauma Cal has enough self awareness to ask Mary what she wants. He still can’t say "I love you.” he ‘needs’ her. remember Sarah’s quote from the Pilot? 

“ This guy could never love a person, he needs too much.” 

This is very sad. Fucking Steve.

 Poor Mary can’t see herself as anything except a commodity. Fucking Mary’s Dad.

Love has been twisted for both of them. And while they try to navigate what consent actually is, and Cal asks her how she wants to be touched, all she really wants is an embrace. 

Professor Jackson’s heart was in the right place when he tried to comfort Sarah. But hell, is there anything less comforting than the standard secular “ He lives on in you.” Speech when you’re grieving? 

Despite that, I like him and I think if she’s going to have a relationship its healthier with him than Eddie. I do like that she’s going on a spiritual quest With Eddie and bought him the books. BUT what would make me happier is if every female character wasn’t defined by the dudes she’s bonking or choosing between.

Is Lillith is a passive observer of upcoming disaster, not an architect of it? She appears to know something will happen to Eddie but not to be planning to do it herself? 

Hawk: I dig it. But Caleb’s dad won’t. I’m really curious where they will go with this because Caleb’s dad is going to object to the gay thing and Hawks Dad? He may not be too fond of the Christian thing. Also how sweet was it that he and Joy hugged at the end? Family first you guys. 

[douchebagbrainwaves]

ONE PROBLEM WITH SAYING THERE'S NO SUCH THING AS GOOD, THAT WOULD BE THE ANSWER

But Google pushed this idea further than anyone had before. The CEO of that company, the next Steve Jobs, but he may be the best writer among Silicon Valley CEOs. But interesting, and finished fairly quickly. The syntax of the language. I unconsciously lumped reading together with work like carpentry, where having to do something, as Nike says, just do it. The meaning of interest can vary. Don't be discouraged if what you produce initially is something other people dismiss as a toy. An eminent Lisp hacker told me that his copy of CLTL falls open to the section format. All we have to choose between several alternatives, there's an upper bound on your performance: choosing the best every time. Code is not something they assemble painstakingly after careful planning, like the popular image of the visionary is someone with a clear view of the future, it will make a very big difference to the bottom line how many users make a critical mass? That could be a useful language feature.

A round as a series A round for, say, making the language strongly typed. I call the Fluff Principle: on a user-voted news site, the links that are easiest to judge will take over unless you take specific measures to prevent it. But he wouldn't have to. C was the scripting language of Tk. Programming languages don't exist in isolation. Moore's Law is not as good as the old one. The tricky part is, you can at least move in that direction. I wouldn't be surprised if at any given time get away with changing more than you actually are. To many people, Lisp is a natural fit for server-based applications also give us the answer to this question, at least successful ones, tend to be short. One would like to be sure signs of bad algorithms. Instead of asking what problem should I solve? If we can develop a new Lisp that is a meaningful test, in practice, the way to get a big program is to start with deceptively small things.

You don't have to argue simply that there are or aren't standards of taste. Before Google, companies in Silicon Valley. When someone is obviously pandering to an audience that's easily fooled, whether it's someone making shiny stuff to impress would-be successors both directly, as Roger Bannister did, by lodging the idea in users' minds that a single person could unroll the future for them. When Lisp was first invented, all these ideas were far removed from ordinary programming practice, which was dictated largely by the hardware available in the late 1950s, it was New York. The difference is that wise means one has a high average may help support high peaks. It can be either a compliment or an insult. The most important part of design is redesign. The best ideas are just on the right side of impossible. Good runners still get tired; they just get tired at higher speeds. And what we do. Those in a position to discover valuable types of fixable brokenness first. And then of course there are the more sinister mutations, like linkjacking—posting a paraphrase of someone else's article and submitting that instead of the original.

It might even be possible to write a serious program using only the built-in Common Lisp. It might not be your dream job, but you're not idle. There are sources of error in your own judgements. And if it's not impossible but simply very hard, it might be better to follow the model of Tcl, and supply the Lisp together with a complete system for supporting server-based applications. Brevity is always attractive to hackers, a language must be good for writing the kinds of programs they want to write. There are two major types of problems—wisdom to human problems and intelligence to abstract ones. And the reason is the horribleness of cable clients, also known as TVs. Email is not a massively popular system. Start by writing a Basic interpreter for a machine with a few thousand users. It will be worth making i/o fast. And schleps should be dealt with the same way that mathematicians and modernist architects are lazy: they hate anything extraneous. I don't think fast code comes primarily from things you do in the design of the language, and to allow programmers to use inline byte code if you need to be replacements for campus social life and oddly enough, YC even has aspects of that.

I have by now internalized doesn't even know where to begin in raising objections to this project. I've read Villehardouin's chronicle of the Fourth Crusade at least two times, maybe three. Too lazy to walk, ya fuckin homo? You'll notice we haven't funded any biotech startups. Which means it is very much worth reading important books multiple times. Let's start by acknowledging one external factor that does affect the popularity of programming languages—legacy software Cobol and hype Ada, Java also play a role—but I think it might be worth trying to define a good programming language? A wise person is someone who usually knows the right thing to do, you don't usually have to invent anything. That sounds hipper than Lisp.

Thanks to Jessica Livingston, Hugues Steinier, Robert Morris, Stan Reiss, Mike Arrington, the rest of the Python crew at PyCon, Steven Levy, and Trevor Blackwell for inviting me to speak.

[ask-ozmano-blog]

Amarco

Jett Christian Cook

⌜⌜(ᴰᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ʷᵒʳʳʸ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵘᵗᵘʳᵉ; ⁱᵗ ⁱˢ ᵃˡʳᵉᵃᵈʸ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ ⁱⁿ ᴬᵘˢᵗʳᵃˡⁱᵃ)⌟⌟

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★ The incarnation of the commonwealth of Australia ★

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⌜⌜(ᴀɪɴ'ᴛ ᴀ ᴄᴏɪɴᴄɪᴅᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴇʟʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏᴢ'ʀᴇ ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ.)⌟⌟

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⚠️ Тypιcally armed with several hunting knives and his machete; also often carries around a boomerang with blades slipped into the sides ⚠️

Nιcĸnaмeѕ

回 Straya 回 Aussie 回 Jazza 回 Idiot

Gender - Male

Ѕeхυalιтy - Pansexual

Pнyѕιcal Age - 27

Вloodтype - O positive

Aѕтrologιcal Ѕιgn - Aquarius

Cнιneѕe Zodιac - Tiger

Weιgнт

(279 lbs)回(121.109 kg)

Нeιgнт

(6’11”)回(182.88 cm)

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(No., oғ Peтѕ) Too many (Description of pets) Uluru - 5’3” Dingo with blue eyes; immortal companion Joe - Koala General - Wedge tailed eagle Gary - Komodo dragon Gremlin - Brushtailed possum Murray - Cockatoo Grim - Inland taipan Sweetie - Budgie

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Eyeѕ

{ Lazy and usually hooded; Strikingly chartreuse in hue and most often alight with mischief. His eyes are typically very expressive but he can guard his gaze, too }

Eyeвrowѕ

{ Well shaped but thick and dark; he doesn’t tend to them much but sometimes straightens them out if they get unruly. }

Ғace

{ Oblong square with defined cheekbones, jaw, and chin; He is very handsome so long as you don’t mind darker skin, freckles, and dozens of scars –the most notable being on his nose. }

Нaιr

{ Dark chocolate and wavy; Jett typically keeps it slicked back with hair gel. Because of its layered texture, this makes it look spiked. When his hair isn’t slicked back, he has a typical surfer boy cut.}

Нandѕ

{ Large, calloused, and always very warm. }

Вυιld

{ Incredibly muscular from hard work as a convict, farmer, and soldier.}

Poѕтυre

{ Slouched, which makes him look shorter than he is. When he’s excited or angry, though, he straightens up and tends to loom }

Gaιт

{ Confident and cocky, sure footed and absolutely daring anyone to start something}

Нealтн Ιѕѕυeѕ

回(Insomnia, mild lactose intolerance)

回(Energy drink addiction, alcohol and marijuana reliance)

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Aттιre

{ Typically seen in very casual clothes with a touch of country boy aesthetic; jeans, steel cap boots, thick belt with a decorative buckle, very fitted tee, and a slouch hat or ranger’s bush hat }

Proмιnenт Ѕcarѕ Ғroм

{ Colonisation, bombing of Darwin, Various natural disasters like bushfires and Cyclones, Gallipoli }

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⌜⌜(ɪ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ sᴛᴀʀs ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ sᴋʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ɢʀᴀɪɴ ᴏғ sᴀɴᴅ ᴏɴ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ʙᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ'ᴅ sᴛɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀʟᴋɪɴɢ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ɪ ɢᴏᴛ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ.)⌟⌟

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Voιce

( Deep, rough, and gravelly with a worn quality when agitated; otherwise, it’s rather pleasant –retaining the rough undertone just slightly but it’s higher and not as threatening as when he is upset. )

Accenт

( Thick bushman’s accent )

Voιceclaιм

(When angry -Steve Blum as Wolverine) (Typically, though - Guy Sebastian )

Ѕιngιng Voιceclaιм

(Guy Sebastian)

Japaneѕe Dιalecт

( Shikoku dialect )

Ѕneezeѕ

(He just can’t help it –he sounds like a kitten when he sneezes)

Coυgнѕ

(Raspy and ragged)

Нιccυpѕ

(High pitched squeak)

Ѕleepѕ

(Jett suffers insomnia and tends to toss and turn except for when he has a warm body next to his –be it an animal, human, or fellow nation, the warmth keeps him still )

Ѕnoreѕ

(He doesn’t snore, but if he did or if he was sick enough to, they’d be low and airy)

Nervoυѕ Нaвιтѕ

(Extreme fidgeting, stammering, chewing his lip or messing with his hair excessively )

Good Нaвιтѕ

Exercise daily Cleans Good hygiene Cooks a new meal or invents a new recipe Listens to his favourite song, sings and dances along Spends time outdoors in his garden

Вad Нaвιтѕ

Drinks too many energy drinks Takes on problems that aren’t his and then stresses over them Dwells on the past Drinks too much alcohol

Ѕтrange Нaвιтѕ

Excessively pops and cracks his joints Play with his scars Mutters to himself, can be reciting lines from something or flat out talking to himself

Recυrrιng Pнraѕeѕ, Verbal tics, common short phrases

⌜⌜(нey?)⌟⌟

⌜⌜(jєѕuѕ wєpt)⌟⌟

⌜⌜(σí)⌟⌟

Anιмe Arcнeтype

(Haraguro, Nisetoshi, deredere)

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★ Perѕonalιтy ★

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⌜⌜(ιғ yoυ dιdn'т wanт мe тo pιcĸ yoυ υp, yoυ ѕнoυldn'т нave вeen ѕo ѕнorт ιn тнe ғιrѕт place.)⌟⌟

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Ѕυммary

There are two sides to Jett, each rooted in a primary emotion or set of emotions.

Empathy and compassion: The fire, the rock. [ see Bing Crosby - The Littlest Angel ] He is a fire in that his passion is a blazing, burning thing; a rock in his stability and ability to support others. This is Jett’s true nature but he struggles with it, especially given his ‘other side’. From the era of the dreaming onwards to colonisation, some 53,000 years, these traits ruled his personality and demeanour. Jett naturally adopts a father-like persona around children, becoming playful but nurturing and most certainly protective. This Jett is very generous and caring, very empathetic and always willing to be a shoulder to cry on. He has seen the suffering of men and strives to dull any pain. He is aware that others might pick up on bad vibes resonating from him, too, so he keeps a smile on his face and laughter in his voice to ease the tension around him. Able to respect the value of sentiment, Jett is not greedy at all; so long as there is love in his life, he is happy. He doesn’t care for material items, money –he cares about family and the wealth that comes with love. This alignment of his values makes him generous, willing to give be it money or little bits of wisdom. Jett puts soul into all he does and strives to spread happiness or contentment.

Apathy, spite, resentment: The wall. [ See Pink Floyd’s album THE WALL ] This side of him is referred to as the wall because it is what guards and protects his true nature. The wall began construction the very moment that the English first claimed Australia as it’s own; a personality that is 247 years, as of 2017, in the works. Every day, it grows higher and higher, increasingly impenetrable but to a few. Jett is guarded and prickly, no longer striving for the happiness of men but somehow retaining his generous nature in a more materialistic sense. He no longer trusts as easily and has little faith in those with ambitions that could potentially become dangerous or harmful. He approaches everything with a grandiose gesture of snark. England has ruined his ability to trust and open up to others, has forced him to betray the values that made him who he was for 53,000 years. He often questions himself, picks himself apart bit by bit because of the horrors that he endured at the hands of the English –from genocide and torture and slavery to more personal affairs, such as brainwashing, rape, and more. Jett hates himself for the things he had done under Arthur’s and Oliver’s command; he is filled with regret and spite that makes him edgy and hard to approach in the same way he once was. Now harbouring suspicion for the motives behind the most meaningless gestures, Jett has become paranoid and distances himself. His interactions are not heartfelt when influenced by his wall, becoming shallow and transparent.

Jett can flip-flop in the blink of an eye; be it from a bad thought surfacing, something triggering him, or from a sudden drop in energy. Only few people are able to witness him in his normal state. It is very hard for Jett to open up, he has many conflicting emotions and although the experiences that planted the wall’s values within him are not as long stretched as the ones that nurtured his true personality, they were so potent with malice that they could have lasted several dozen lifetimes over.

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⌜⌜𝓖𝓞𝓓 𝓑𝓛𝓔𝓢𝓢 𝓐𝓤𝓢𝓣𝓡𝓐𝓛𝓘𝓐⌟⌟

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Preғerenceѕ

Trivial likes ▷Cats ▷ Mango, peach, plum, apricot, pomegranete ▷ Steak, seafood, and cooking ▷ Outdoorsy activities ▷ Wrestling, rough-housing ▷ Scaring tourists, being snarky with family

Trivial dislikes ▷ Flies, Mosquitos ▷ Extremists ▷ Immigrants / citizens that are ungrateful for the country they reside in ▷ being cold ▷ dole bludgers

Ғavorιтe

Place to be: Arms of his lover, the beach, somewhere in the outback where nature has overrun civilization

Food: Kangaroo tail, Wombat stew*, Vegemite *Joke food

Nation: Australia [ and country of his lover in any au ]

Way to relax: At home, naked, with the fan/AC on, and a six-pack of beers by his side –cricket or footy on telly, or a good documentary. Also likes stargazing.

Animal: Kangaroo, Wedge-tailed eagle

Color: Green

Time Period: Dreamtime

Тalenтѕ

Hunting/fishing Carpentry Welding Building Dot painting Story telling Cooking

Нoввιeѕ

Anything that makes his talents more pronounced Hiking Mining [ by hand ] Making jewelry Painting Singing [ especially traditional Aboriginal songs ] Boating swimming

Oυт oғ 10'ѕ

Warmth 8/10

Approachability 3-9/10

Humor 10/10

Luck 10/10 [ Australia is the lucky country ]

Trust 0/10

Morality 10/10

Sex drive 11/10

Sociability 3-10/10

Chattiness 5-10/10

Profanity 10 /10



Intelligence 8/10

Wisdom 10/10

Wit 9/10

Sarcasm 10/10

Stubbornness 5/10

Laziness 7/10

Alcoholism 10 /10

Self-Discipline 2/10



Sheer strength 10/10

Stamina 9/10

Agility 6/10

Reflexes 8/10

Offensive 8/10

Defensive 10/10

Flexibility 6.8/10 [ too muscular ]



Belligerence 3-10/10

Peace advocacy 9/10

Diplomatic missions 8/10

Cooperation 10/10

Militarism 7/10

Transparency 1/10

Humanitarianism 10/10

Influence 7/10

Sanctions 8/10

Human rights 7/10

Religious freedom 10/10

Homogeneity 5/10

Power 7-9/10

Violations 5/10

UN-Conforming 5/10



⌜⌜(ᵀᴴᴱ ᵁᴺ? ᴸᴵᴷᴱ ᵁᴺᴵᵀᴱᴰ ᴺᴵᴺᶜᴼᴹᴾᴼᴼᴾˢ, ᴿᴵᴳᴴᵀ?)⌟⌟



├┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┤

★ Relaтιonѕ ★

├┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┤





★ Arthur

Jett blames Arthur, rightfully, for his inner torment and resents him for what he has done and his apparent favouritism with other former colonies. However, his brainwashing induced severe stockholm syndrome so he still admires Arthur and strives to not only get his attention and keep it, but to make him proud as well.

⌜⌜(тнαт ғeller ĸeepѕ нιѕ eɢo ѕтored ιɴ нιѕ вrowѕ. wнy elѕe woυld тнey вe ѕo вιɢ?)⌟⌟

★ Alfred

During colonisation, Jett had been brainwashed to believe that Arthur’s wrathful ways were a direct result of Alfred. He spent a long time, up until deployment on the Western front in WWI, hating Alfred. They talked things out though and soon became incredibly close. Now they share banter and a notably close alliance but sometimes Jett’s old sentiments get the better of him, as does jealousy, and he will become temporarily distant.

⌜⌜(dαɴdy ιѕ αɴ αlrιɢнт ғeller, ѕo loɴɢ αѕ yoυ ɢoт α ɢαɢ oɴ нαɴd.)⌟⌟

★ Toby

Jett has always felt like a big brother to the New Zealander, ever since the moment he first met him. They squabble a lot, as siblings tend to do, but deep down they care for each other a lot. Jett is the more affectionate of the two and although Toby acts like he doesn’t appreciate the affection, Jett knows different. Jett is very proud of Toby for his achievements and, deep down, thinks Toby is much better than him and admires him for it.

⌜⌜(ѕнorт ѕтαcĸ тнιɴĸѕ нe'ѕ вeттer тнαɴ мe! вυт ι ĸɴow нe ιѕ.)⌟⌟

★ Mattie

Their climates are so very different but when it comes down to it, these two have a lot in common and Jett thoroughly enjoys Mattie’s company. Mattie has used his charm to get the better of Jett on a few occasions but never in a situation that could actually be harmful. They’re very close and while Jett will be rambunctious with Alfred, he can be himself around Mattie.

⌜⌜(тнαт ĸιd вleedѕ мαple ѕyrυp αɴd cυмѕ cнeeѕe.)⌟⌟

★ Francis

The frenchman’s charm is something that soothes Jett and helps lower his walls a bit; he can be a bit more leisurely around the nation of romance and can enjoy some laid back chatter with him. He’s fond of the cuisine, and finds the french interest in Australian cultural symbols, like the didgeridoo, flattering. France was two days late to claim Australia, and Jett often jokes about it although there’s a tiny bit of sadness behind it since he believes that if France had colonised his country, he wouldn’t have gone through the level of darkness he did. Jett is close to Francis and thoroughly enjoys his company.

⌜⌜(тнαт ɢυy ѕмellѕ lιĸe wιɴe 24/7. woɴder ιғ нe'ѕ ɢoт αɴy тo ѕpαre ғor αɴ αlco lιĸe мe.)⌟⌟

★ Yao

Economically, their relationship is very close but on a personal level, Jett is honestly rather neutral with his relations to and opinion on Yao. They don’t interact often in an informal setting and Jett is put off by the incredibly high Chinese investment in his country.

⌜⌜(нe ιɴveѕтѕ ιɴ мe тoo мυcн. wнαт doeѕ нe wαɴт? мy cαpιтαlιѕм or мy cocĸ?)⌟⌟

★ Ivan

Australia was the first country to recognise Russia in place of the Soviet Union after it crumbled; however, this doesn’t mean Jett is particularly fond of Ivan. If anything, he is rather put off by his forever grinning face and constantly chirpy disposition. That soft voice reminds him all too much of Oliver, a major tormentor in his younger years. He doesn’t know exactly how to feel. Russia hasn’t done him any wrong but at the same time, hasn’t done him any good and has tormented many of his close friends, namely Gilbert and Alfred.

⌜⌜(нe αѕĸed мe тo вecoмe oɴe wιтн нιм oɴce αɴd wнeɴ ι ѕαιd yeѕ, нe drαɢɢed мe oғғ тo ɢo мedιтαтe. ғυcĸιɴɢ ιce нιppιe.)⌟⌟

★ Ludwig

Unlike the rest of the allies, Australia had a very low amount of bigotry towards the Germans after WWII. Jett felt a tiny spark of sympathy for Ludwig, whose punishments were much worse than the rest of the axis. Still, he has enjoyed watching from afar as Ludwig has become a bit more compassionate and has engaged more with his fellow nations. It seems unlikely, but the two share a very good friendship and are able to bond over common interests in mechanics and an affinity for drinking. Jett has attacked Ludwig with little prodding done on the German’s part, and later insulted his abilities and basked in the respect he was met with from the German after having the scuffle. He also helped him out with some Aussie style hand to hand, and from the fight their friendship bloomed.

⌜⌜(ι’d вeαт нιѕ αѕѕ вυт нe cαмe тнe lαѕт тιмe ι тнrew α pυɴcн αт нιм, тнe ғυcĸιɴɢ мαѕocнιѕт)⌟⌟

★ Gilbert

Prussia is a nation Jett has long admired. His admiration was sparked long ago when Adelaide was settled. Unlike other European nations, Prussia did not send convicts to Australia but sent only nobles instead. Jett took that as a compliment. His admiration further grew when he was taken in by a noble family, taught how to sword fight, taught how to speak German, and was given all the affections that England deliberately neglected him of. When Gilbert fled to his country in the early 90’s, Jett welcomed him with open arms and allowed him to stay as long as he needed to. They became close over the time that Gilbert spent there and Jett considers him an incredibly close friend.

⌜⌜(ɴeхт тιмe нe αѕĸѕ мe wнαт α ѕɴαĸe ιѕ, ι'м ɢoɴɴα ѕнove oɴe dowɴ нιѕ тнroαт.)⌟⌟

★ Feliciano [ Incubus; not Nation ]

This fiery little devil is someone that manages to stir up both of Jett’s ‘personalities’ just by walking into the same room. Jett is aware that Feliciano knows he’s putting up some act, as the incubus has outright stated it; this knowledge makes Jett want to strangle him and coddle him at the same time. They’ve fought, something Jett doesn’t take seriously because of Feliciano’s pedantic, finicky nature. All in all, he likes the little devil but is frustrated by him on occasion. However, he also appreciates his honesty and has a few key things in common with him as well as mutual interests.

⌜⌜(oɴe тιмe, нe ѕтαrтed тαlĸιɴɢ ѕo ι wαlĸed oυт тнe rooм. cαмe вαcĸ тwo yeαrѕ lαтer αɴd нe нαdɴ'т мoved αɴ ιɴcн…or ѕнυт υp.)⌟⌟

★ Lovino [ Mainverse pairing \ Mun’s OTP ]

The apple of his eye and the light of his life; Jett cherishes Lovino with every fibre of his being and would do absolutely anything for him. Lovino is the only person, aside from Jett’s counterpart. That knows everything about Jett. He is the one person that Jett has allowed himself to get attached to, and he will do everything in his power to keep Lovino. This leads to possessive behaviour although he certainly isn’t controlling. He gets jealous easily, though, and will attack anyone eyeing up his lover, no questions asked. They bicker and squabble but never seriously. Lovino is helping Jett demolish his wall and Jett is attempting to do the same for Lovino, in turn. An unlikely but wholesome couple.

⌜⌜(нαve yoυ ѕeeɴ тнαт ɢυy'ѕ αѕѕ? wαιт, yoυ нαve…? αɴd wнo тнe ғυcĸ ɢαve yoυ perмιѕѕιoɴ тo looĸ αт ιт?!)⌟⌟

★ Antonio

Good old Antonio –that threatened Jett the moment he found out about his relationship with Lovino. Nevertheless, the two are surprisingly close and have plenty of common interests. They’re rather similar, actually, and get along easily now that Jett has proven himself to Antonio.

⌜⌜(нe'ѕ ѕo cнαттery αɴd clιɴɢy! ι ɢυeѕѕ yoυ coυld ѕαy нe'ѕ α …ѕpαιɴ ιɴ тнe αѕѕ.)⌟⌟

★ Kiku

The pair don’t talk a lot but Jett actually likes Kiku a fair bit, despite not really knowing him. He hasn’t made much of an effort to, either although there have been isolated instances of tenderness such as a sculpture given to Kiku by Jett that honoured the innocent lives lost thanks to nuclear bombings –something that both of them are victim to although the fact that England has dropped a bomb on Australia without warning is most often never spoken of and therefore a little known fact.

⌜⌜(oɴe oғ нιѕ dιѕтrιcтѕ ιѕ ɴιcĸɴαмed мιɴι-αυѕтrαlια. ι'м woɴderιɴɢ нow вιɢ нιѕ cloѕeт ѕнrιɴe dedιcαтed тo мe ιѕ.)⌟⌟

http://www.internationalaffairs.org.au/ http://www.indexmundi.com/australia/demographics_profile.html http://www.abs.gov.au/Population https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Demography_of_Australia



Groυpιngѕ

[ Five eyes ] [ ANZAC ] [ Gravity-defying hair squad ] [ UN ]



▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

⌜⌜(ѕυcн ιѕ lιғe // c'eѕт lα vιe)⌟⌟

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

⌜⌜(тнere ιѕ ɴo doмeѕтιc нeαrт; тнe wιlderlove ιѕ нιddeɴ wιтнιɴ υѕ αɴd we recĸoɴ wιтн ιт, αɴd we wreѕтle wιтн ιт)⌟⌟



├┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┤

★ Eхтraѕ ★



├┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┤





Gaĸυen Clυвѕ

[ Swim club ] [ Cat lover’s club ]

Ғanтaѕιa

[ — ]

Нυмan!

[ Ex-Convict Soldier turned farmer turned underground brawler ]

Neĸoтalιa

[ Australian wild cat; brown with ebony stripes, green eyes, tattered ears and a scarred muzzle ]

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂



Тнιngѕ Ѕaιd

⌜⌜(ι'м ѕo ɴυмв. qυιcĸ! ѕoмeoɴe ѕнove α cαcтυѕ υp мy αѕѕ ѕo ι cαɴ ғeel αɢαιɴ!)⌟⌟

★

⌜⌜(ι’d leт нιм вeɴd мe over αɴydαy. тoo вαd ι ғιlled мy αѕѕ υp wιтн ceмeɴт –нe’d reαlly нαve тo drιll мe тнeɴ. ɢeт ιт?)⌟⌟

★

⌜⌜(ι love cαтѕ, вυт ι'м ɢlαd ι αιɴ'т oɴe cαυѕe тнeɴ нow тнe ғυcĸ woυld ι ғeed тнeм αll?!)⌟⌟

★

⌜⌜(oɴe тιмe, мy мαтe тнroттled мe ғor ѕαyιɴɢ ѕтυpιd ѕнιт. ιт wαѕ preттy нoт.)⌟⌟

★

⌜⌜(yoυ тнιɴĸ yoυ’ve ɢoт proвleмѕ? тry ѕнυттιɴɢ yoυr ɢoв, ѕιт вαcĸ, αɴd wαтcн yoυr proвleмѕ dιѕαppeαr!!)⌟⌟





Тнeмeѕ

(character songs)

★ God Bless Australia ★ Waltzing Matilda ★ Raining on the Rock - John Williamson ★ And the band played waltzing matilda - Eric Bogle ★ Two little boys - Rolf Harris ★ Always Gold - Radical Face ★ Dear Fellow Traveler - Sea wolf ★ willow tree march - paper kites ★ The great escape - woodkid ★ Run boy run - woodkid ★ Dust and sand - sons of the East ★ Thistles and weeds - mumford and sons ★ Ain’t no grave - Johnny Cash ★ Shut eye - stealing sheep ★ I exist, I exist, I exist - flatsound ★ I am in great pain, please help me - Crywank ★ All through the night - Sleeping at last ★ In the embers - Sleeping at last ★ You are the moon - The hush sound ★ Where do the children play - Cat stevens ★ Father and Son - Cat stevens ★ A puzzlement - the king and I ★ Believer - Imagine dragons ★ Zombie - Miser ★ Magnet - Punch Brothers ★ Mind electric - Tally Hall ★ Here before - Vashti Bunyan ★ Thanks bastards - Mischief brew ▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓

❝This world is a dark and scary place. You got the balls to keep going once your light flickers out?❞

┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛

[wildlyhardphilosopher-blog]

Dog Training 2017 | Click For more

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Sign in Sign up 24 Aug 2017 10:14:15am Cost: $110.00 How to Choose the Right Crate for your Dog No shock, No pain, No choke, No fear, No physical force, No physical moulding, No compulsion based methods are employed to train or care for a pet.” Legal requirements for dog owners Lost and Found What Your Body Language Tells Your Dog Events at RSPCA In around 127-116 B.C. a Roman farmer, Marcus Varro, recorded advice on raising and training puppies for herding livestock. His writings indicate that not only was dog training for specific tasks well established, but that the value of early training was recognised.[5] Learn about current animal welfare issues we’re involved in. 96.9% of our clients rate their experience with Bark Busters as 4 or 5 out of 5 stars. Dogs: The Woof Works Book OnlineBook To ensure we’re providing all Puppy School students a safe and healthy environment, your puppy or dog will need to be: 2017 Membership Renewal Form Just show us where you’ve seen the lower price (on a website or in a current catalogue) and we’ll work with you to ensure you get the best deal Numbers and Place Value Reply Alert moderator Privacy policyAbout WikipediaDisclaimersContact WikipediaDevelopersCookie statementMobile view Breed profiles Private Dog Training Lesson Home / Starting your puppy off right! Rowan and lotte : If your puppy does something right, reward and praise him enthusiastically. If he does something wrong, make it clear you’re not happy or ignore him.  Postal Select Page Puppies that are not supervised and rewarded for outdoor elimination, but are constantly being disciplined and punished for indoor elimination, may soon begin to fear to eliminate in all locations in your presence. These puppies do not associate the punishment with indoor elimination; they associate the punishment with the presence of the owners. Motivational training[edit] Lee Cornelius Honor your dog’s instincts The SAcommunity website is licensed under a Rules and boundaries at home People’s Choice Lottery free training tips Privacy Policy Pricing & member benefits Chewing things up Password You have not entered a password ABC Open Agility 6 months + Stage 4 Operant conditioning ABC TV Education Agility (Baby Fungility) 14 Weeks-6 months We are the best choice for behavioural training. These behavioural issues rarely disappear with age, and generally cannot be rectified at group obedience classes as this not where the problems are occurring. It is important that behavioural issues be addressed as soon as possible with behavioural training. We work with you and your dog to provide real solutions to your dog’s unwanted behaviour. Schools Training Information Tails Trails at Ashley Avenue Reserve Ridgehaven Klever Kanine Dog Obedience School Inc. Hideaways I LIKED THIS STORY Munno Para Dog Obedience Club Naomi Murray How to find the correct equipment for your dog Open Sites menu Port Augusta

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fbq('track', 'ViewContent', content_ids: 'dogtraining.dknol', ); Your industry experts Tip: To help grab your pooch’s continued attention, don’t feed your puppy or dog prior to class. Community Programs Maximum course size: 6 dogs  Nederlands Members Area Puppy Training From 8 weeks to 5 months of age. Covering all your puppies early development. Special Offer 4 Free Puppy Classes. … How To Overcome Window Aggression In Cars In 1935, the American Kennel Club began obedience trials, and in the following years popular magazines raised public awareness of the benefits of having a trained pet dog, and of the recreational possibilities of dog training as a hobby.[17] After WWII, the increasing complexities of suburban living demanded that for a pet dog’s own protection and its owner’s convenience, the dog should be obedient. William Koehler had served as principal trainer at the War Dog Training Center, in California, and after the war became chief trainer for the Orange Empire Dog Club—at the time, the largest dog club in the United States—instructor for a number of breed clubs, and a dog trainer for the Walt Disney Studios.[18] In 1962 Koehler published The Koehler Method of Dog Training, in which he is highly critical of what he calls “tid-bit training techniques” based in “the prattle of ‘dog psychologists'”.[17] Amongst the training innovations attributed to Koehler is the use of a long line in conjunction with a complete absence of oral communication as a way of instilling attentiveness prior to any leash training. Koehler insisted that participants in his training classes used “emphatic corrections”, including leash jerks and throw chains, explaining that tentative, nagging corrections were cruel in that they caused emotional disturbance to the dog.[19] Vicki Hearne, a disciple of Koehler’s, commented on the widespread criticism of his corrections, with the explanation that it was the emotionally loaded language used in the book that led to a number of court cases, and to the book being banned in Arizona for a time.[20] Despite the controversy, his basic method forms the core of many contemporary training systems.[21] Training should be fun for both you and your dog. Our programs are developed around “force free, positive reinforcement” training – which reinforces and enhances the learning thereby achieving the results of a well-mannered dog. Types Name khye : Bird Show all Which course is right for my dog? Anxiety Where we Serve As an approved obedience training organisation the Minister may approve an assessment program if the organisation assesses a dog in the following skills: We currently offer dog training classes at Carina State School on Creek Road, Carindale. We have access to multiple undercover areas, three ovals, media rooms for seminars and a fully fenced basketball court for the FREE Urban Play Groups. No un-vaccinated dogs are on the premises ensuring the safest environment possible. Aversive collars Collars that apply discomfort or pain during training, and they include: Smart Paws FAQ Register here Email: info@positiveresponse.net.au Algebra Data Probability – FREE Air Pump Accessories Your puppy or dog! Ways to help curb any behavioral problems Jump up ^ Bouton, M. E. (2007). Learning and Behavior: A Contemporary Synthesis. Sunderland, MA: Sinauer. Vet Products Pet type(s):  It’s never too late! If your puppy is 17 weeks or older, simply join our older puppy course. 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They are in demand throughout Australia and overseas to provide detection services, training courses, provide innovation for new scent detection projects.  Their training techniques are unique and have earned them a high reputation for teaching both people and dogs. Grooming First Aid Training Youth and Community Programs No need to book in – simply turn up 15 minutes prior to a scheduled class and sign in.   Many thanks Allison and Barbara, Glen Miles End of life care Volunteering Broken Hill Shelter and Veterinary Hospital Adoptions To check availability of Urban Clicks & Tricks course in Carindale click here.  To enrol in Urban Clicks & Tricks course… read more Dogs and Puppies Health Website Terms & Conditions 4.5 Model-rival training Behavioural Issues Enrol or Call Us Now on 07 3342 0568 Burch, Mary R.; and Jon S. Bailey (1999). 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[cecilspeaks]

Ghost Stories

You can purchase Ghost Stories here.

Transcript of the bonus tracks here.

1. Intro

Meg Bashwiner: And now, listeners of every kind: the voice of Night Vale, Cecil Baldwin!

[applause]

Cecil: We have nothing to fear but fear itself. Also many other things, several of which can be found in your home. Welcome to Night Vale!

Listeners, honest honored listeners, Cecil here as always your voice to carry you through the lonely hours. Today is a very special day indeed. Today, as we all know, is the annual Night Vale ghost story contest. In which every citizen is required to put forward their scariest, spookiest tale of spectors and haunts. The City Council chooses their favorite, and the winner is, through a process that is truly terrifying in its simplicity, turned into a ghost. The losers are forced to continue in forms that primarily depend upon the containment and transportation of oozes and glob.

Now I’m sure that you’ve all been preparing your own entry for the ghost story contest, since all of you will soon have to stand up and deliver it to the gathered people. But before all of you each individually have your turn, I thought that I might indulge myself for a moment and tell you my own entry to your ghost story contest. Are you all OK with that? [applause] I have no idea what you just said so, gonna nod and give myself a thumbs up and I think we’re all good here.

2. Horoscopes

But first, let’s have a look at today’s horoscopes. Leo? [silence] Leo? [audience whoops] Leo! Bet all your money on red! All those material possessions were only weighing you down. Soon you will be in many ways – free-er than the rest of us.

Virgo? You know that one spot on your back that itches and itches and itches and you just can’t stand it? Well, good thing: you won’t have to deal with that or anything else after tomorrow night.

Libra? Draw your loved ones closer to you. That first drawing you did was no good, no, draw them like closer to you. There’s too much white space on the page! How are your loved ones supposed to love you if you can’t even draw them right?

Scorpio? OK so, I think we all know by now that this is the sign of.. uuughhh.. Steve Carlsberg. Who is my sister Abby’s husband. Now, usually the horoscope just happens to turn out something quite mean for Scorpio. Purely through the unknowable combination of fate and random chance that is the meeting of the stars. But Abby said that the stars had better knock that off! Especially if they want to be invited to their niece Janice’s first ballet fight. So, let’s see how this goes. Scorpio. Things are looking bright. What a great day you have before you! Look how clear the sky, how green the grass how – dumb and oversized your feet look. [gleefully] No really, I hope you don’t trip or rip your pants not even once! How terrible it would be if that happened! But it probably won’t through, so there you go. [mutters] Scorpios…

Sagittarius?  Ahahahahahahaha, aahahahahahahaha, aaahahahahahaha!

Capricon? Things fall apart, the center cannot hold, mere anarchy is loosed upon the world. The blood (--) [02:42] tide is loosed upon the world and everywhere! So your home carpentry project will not go well next week. There’s just too much blood.

Aquarius? OK, you are just two dogs in a trench coat, Aquarius. I mean I hate to break it to you, but you have no opposable thumbs, or language skills. And you’ve always been two dogs in a trench coat! [cooing] Yes you are, yes you arrre!! [kissing noises] Now go outside! Good dogs!

Pisces?  If you don’t have anything nice to say, try saying something mean. I mean there are lots of options for things to say.

Aries? Ooh. OK, so this horoscope is just a picture of a bear. And next to the bear is the lizard and next to the lizard is the pelican. And there’s a combined speech bubble above them all that says “We regret the storm that took your lives.” And they’re smiling and (-) [0:03:57] some mugs of beer together. And they have their feet up on skulls. And if you look really closely you’ll notice that they’re not standing on a pile of sticks, but on a pile of human bones?! And unfortunately I believe that in this cartoon, Aries – you’re the pelican!

Taurus? No sunshine for you, Taurus! Nope! The sun’s light has been blocked, but only for you. Oh yes, everyone else will walk in sunny rays, sunshades and shorts, wide smiles and hat brims, SPF 50 and a Frisbee at the beach. You will likely lose feeling in your skin due to the cold of a [sinister voice] sunless world! [friendly voice] Good luck!

Gemini? They say an onion has many layers. Gemini, you are like that onion. Time has peeled away, one after another, each of your hard, pungent layers: snap, snap, snap! They (pry) off and urgent fingernails pry away the remnants as you grow smaller, wetter, less complex. Ooh, also like an onion, your odor makes as cry.

Cancer? Well this just says “chainsaw accident”. So I bet that’s a metaphor for something really goood!

3. A Word from our Sponsors

Cecil: And now a word from our sponsors. For that, we have a sentient patch of haze here in the studio with me, and her name is Deb! Deb?

Deb: Thank you Cecil. Today I am here on behalf American Airlines – your partner in the sky.

Cecil: Fantastic. What does American have to say to us today?

Deb: American Airlines is committed to.. [giggling] your safety! And comfort.. [giggling] and getting you into the air. It is our promise that we will get you up there. You will rise from the ground. For sure, that will happen. And you will soar above the clouds.

Cecil: Well that’s wonderful to hear, you know it’s reassuring to know that American Airlines will see us safely and comfortably through takeoff, flight, and landing!

Deb: [long beat] No Cecil. We didn’t say that. We don’t wanna promise we can’t say for sure we can deliver on. We will get you up there.

Cecil: And then what then?

Deb: Oh, what anywhen? Do we see the future?

Cecil: Oh?

Deb: No.

Cecil: No.

Deb: Life is chaotic, and it would be irresponsible to start making promises.

Cecil: Yes, but mostly you land those planes, rights?

Deb: I haven’t checked lately. But if it helps you to say that out loud, then certainly you should do that, yeah, mm hm.

Cecil: Why do I always end up so worried after talking to you, Deb?

Deb: American Airlines. What goes up, must come down. We guarantee it.

Cecil: Alright, well thank you Deb.

Deb: So you’re all telling ghost stories, huh?

Cecil: Oh yes, yes we are.

Deb: Good. I have a wonderful story of a haunting to tell. It’s very popular among us, sentient patches of haze.

Cecil: Oh please, tell it.

Deb: Once upon a time, a nice family of sentient patches of haze moved into an ooold house. They were young and optimistic and ready to start a home, but soon they realized something was teeeerribly wrong. They heard noises in the night. Voices, folky yet slickly produced singer-songwriter music. At first they assumed it was just their imagination, but soon they saw shapes in the halls and bedrooms. They noticed movement in the corner of the parts of their haze that they used to see with. One day, one of the sentient patches turned the corner and there – [disgusted] was a human standing there! As clear as a day, as opaque as flesh. Well, that poor little patch screamed and floated away. But now they knew, [creepily] there were humans haunting their house.

Cecil: Now wait. Humans often live in houses, I mean did the humans own the house?

Deb: Oh Cecil, there you go again. Serving as a propaganda mouthpiece for the capitalist machine that says sentient patches of haze aren’t allowed to move into and take over any house that a human “owns”!

Cecil: Wait, a mouthpiece for the capitalist machine? Deb, your job is literally to be a spokeshaze for multinational corporations!

Deb: Hmph! Hmph! Hmph! How dare you! My contradictions are my own to grapple with. I’m leaving. Thank you for giving me time on the air, I appreciate it.

Cecil: Well it was an ad, and I’m assuming you get paid for those?

Deb: Sure if that assumption is helpful to you, goodbye Cecil.

Cecil: Alright, thank you Deb!

4. Ghost story #1

And now, listeners, a ghost story. MY ghost story.

It begins ten years ago, on a night just like – tonight. Heavy fog covered the town of Night Vale, turning the world into a blurry approximation, familiar landmarks into educated guesses. No stars, and the full moon diffused by the mist into a soft, feeble light from all around.

A man was driving down a dark road, there were no other cars around. And on the side of the road, up ahead, he saw a figure. A figure made strange by the half-hearted moon, a brief pause in a long fog. Now the figure had its hand up. It did not (thumb) (-), but instead gave a languid wave, more of a summons than a request. And the man shivered, for he knew that it was on this very stretch of road one year to the day before that day that was ten years ago on a night just like tonight. The oooold mill, finally burned down. And when it went, there was a woman inside of it. Now, it’s hard to fathom why she was there in that abandoned disused mill, but she was. And the unthinkable happened, without anyone having to think of it at all. And since then, it has been said that in the darkest hours of the darkest nights, a young woman flags down cars on the side of the road where the old mill used to be. And if they’re foolish enough to let her into the car, she stares directly at the driver. And if the driver is foolish enough to look her in the eyes even once – she takes them to her home. A dark, eternal place from which no one, ever, returns.

Still, he couldn’t leave behind what could be a person in need of aid just because of some spooky old story. So he pulled over, and the figure reached out her hand and opened the passenger door and – there was a cold breath, air from dead lungs that the mist curled into the car, and the figure sat.

And the driver was careful to look not too closely or for too long. “Um, uh, where are you headed?” the man said, but the figure was silent. So he began to drive once again. And the fog billowed as he drove, and he could swear that he could see that old mill as it had once stood, leaning and ramshackle. Now, that mill had not been in working order in decades, it was probably just its time to go when it burned, but still. He mourned the loss of what had been a part of his own. “Where to?” he said again without turning or looking at his passenger. And the figure spoke. The figure spoke with a voice that sounded like a body hitting freezing water, like the distant thud in an old house in the smallest hours of the night. [creepy voice] “You know wheeeree,” the figure said. “You know where I want to goooo.” And he did know. “I want to go – hoooooome.”

And he held the wheel tighter, and he pressed the gas harder, and he stared unblinkingly at the door because he knew that the figure’s face was only inches away now, and staring directly at him.

Oh, listen to me yammer on! Haha. You know, I should really get to some of the other business of community radio, or Station Management will [chuckling] just kill me. [long beat] At least I hope that’s all they’ll do to me.

The rest of this ghost story soon.

5. Tamika Flynn

Cecil: But now I have a really special guest in the studio today, who has their own ghost story to tell. She is one of our community’s most active young people, having formed a militia to keep our town safe from corporations and librarians, oh – and she is also an avid reader. So please welcome to the show – Tamika Flynn! Hi Tamika!

Tamika: Hi Cecil. [chuckles]

Cecil: You said you have a ghost story that you wanna share?

Tamika: Yes. I love books so much, and one of my favorite kinds of books is the ghost book.

Cecil: The ghost book? You mean horror novel, yes?

Tamika: You say potato, I say pohtata.

Cecil: You do?

Tamika: Yeah!

Cecil: Pohtata?

Tamika: Pohtata chips, pohtata salad. Pohtata poutine.. [chuckles]

Cecil: But that’s kind of a weird way to say potato.

Tamika: Well I learned English from reading it Cecil, not from listening to it! [chuckles, snorts repeatedly] Anyways. I love ghost stories because they’re so rich with symbolism and meaning. A lot of people think that ghost stories are just a one-note tale about a ghost haunting an old house, but if you look deeper under the surface, ghost stories are really about dead people who are now invisible or translucent beings who interact with the living in antiques homes, so..

Cecil: Very important difference.

Tamika: Would you like to hear my favorite ghost story, Cecil?

Cecil: Oh yes, please!

Tamika: Many years ago, in this very town.. [whispers] there was a librarian! Ooh! And the librarian would creep around the public library, hunting and slaughtering book lovers for sport! Innocent people would go to the library hoping to find a good book, something new and interesting. Maybe a classic of modern science fiction by Octavia Butler, or some surrealist literature by Amy Bender or, oh, maybe some pedantic buzzkill space essays by Neil deGrasse Tyson. [chuckles]

Cecil: Now, wait a minute! To be fair to Neil deGrasse Tyson, his Victorian era romances are really goo-oo-ood!

Tamika: [long beat] Anyways. One day, there was a young girl, a really smart girl. [chuckles] She was also really fit, like REALLY fit! [chuckles] But also smart like the smartest girl you can know. Ahem. And also really tough. Anyways, she went to the library to get a book, and just as she was perusing a collection of plays by the 17th century poet and spy Aphra Behn, she could smell something terrible, like an infection, like wet fur. It was humid suddenly, and she felt something watching her, slithering about just over her shoulder. 

But this girl, she was fast too. She jumped to the side quickly just as a spiked tentacle came crashing down next to her, crushing the shelf containing play scripts by Pulitzer winner Annie Baker. Without thinking, the girl – she was also intuitive, like [whispers] soo intuitive! [chuckles] – she grabbed the tentacle before it could retract into the librarian’s protective shell. She then grabbed a copy of the “Complete Works of William Shakespeare” by Francis Bacon. It was the special edition that had the machete taped right there on the book jacket! [chuckles] She tore off the large knife and swung, striking the tentacle at its base. She swung again, landing an accurate blow between the soft small crevice and the hard skin. This girl was amaaaaziiiiing! The librarian shrieked, then with a double back flip – which was pretty easy for this girl… she narrowly avoided the splattering acid blood of the flailing creature and dealt a mortal blow right to its disgusting neck! She didn’t even need a blade to finish off the monster, she just used her fist! Splat! Pffffff! [breathes heavily] True story of the badass book loving girl there ever was! [chuckles]

Cecil: So this is a story about you, right? And how you defeated the librarian during the Summer Reading Program a few years back?

Tamika: Oh no. That story was about my best friend Jessica Littleton. She’s so smart and talented, [high-pitched] I just love her, she’s the best!

Cecil: OK Tamika, while I hate to nitpick, that was a really great story but that was like, [hoarsely] monster story, not like a ghoooo-oooost story.

Tamika: Well. Jessica jacked up that monster and now it’s a ghost, boom, ghost story! Well I gotta go do my math homework, and then we have the teen militia meeting this evening at the new skating rink, so bye Cecil! [chuckles]

Cecil: Bye, thank you Tamika!

6. Children’s Fun Fact Science Corner

It’s time for another edition of the Children’s Fun Fact Science Corner!

Did you know that time travel exists? OK well not yet, but we have learned from time travelers that it will be invented in just under 30 years. Now given that knowledge, I thought it’d be kind of fun to do a little experiment together, so. If you are legally allowed to own a smartphone, take that out now and open up that calendar application. No go ahead, don’t be shy!

Now what I want you to do is create a recurring event that starts on this exact day and time, and title that event, well, “travel back in time”. Ooh, and be sure to note your exact location, OK? Now, when you’ve done that, set that event to recur every year on this anniversary. That way, when your future self does eventually have access to a time machine, they’ll know to come back to this. very. Moment. And then once you’ve done all of that, hit “save” and your future self should appear immediately right in front of you!

OK, so do you see your future self? Alright, well you may have to look around just like a little tiny bit. Hold on, hold on. Do none of you see your future selves? Uh oooh…

[long silence]

Well, this has been the Children’s Fun Fact Science Corner!

7. Teddy Williams

Cecil: Now, a look at the Community Calendar. So let’s start off with an event that is happening today. To get in on the annual ghost story contest, Teddy Williams, owner of the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex, announced that he will be offering 20 per cent off admission and double game tokens for anyone who dresses up like a deceased ancestor, historical figure, or departed pet.

We have Teddy in the studio with us now to talk about some of the themed activity going on at the fun complex. Teddy?

Teddy Williams: Hello, Cecil.

Cecil: Hello.

TW: We are really getting into this ghost stories festival over at the Desert Flower today and we wanted to celebrate the spirit of the event [chuckles], no pun intended.

Cecil: No pun understood.

TW: OK well we’re getting into the ghost story.. mood. Over in the bowling lanes, we’ll be turning off all of the lights, and as customers try to navigate and stumble around in the dark, our staff will sneak up behind them and shout classic ghost things like “BOOO!” and [hoarsely] “Hello again son, I miss you, it’s so cold here”.

Cecil: Well that sounds like great fun that people will remember not unpleasantly for the rest of their lives.

TW: We hired some pretty expensive lawyers to make sure of that.

Cecil: Now Teddy, you seem to really love this day. Do you have a ghost story you wanna share?

TW: Well, OK sure. As you know we built the new skating rink on top of the old pet cemetery. And there’s this gost cat, a Persian cat. Super cute like you just wanna grab his little flat face and go [high-pitched squeaking] with your own face against his..

Cecil: Awww.

TW:..but you can’t. Because he’s a ghost and so your face just goes through, it’s just.. it’s like rrow, rrow. Anyway, turns out this cat belonged to former town billionaire Marcus Vanston. Marcus of course disappeared one day and no one knows for certain what happened to him..

Cecil: Oh, I-

TW: Or we do know, but none of us are legally allowed to say.

Cecil: Of course, because we can’t legally acknowledge the existence of..

TW: None of us are legally allowed to say Cecil, it could have been anything.

Cecil: Yeah of course. [whispers] Angel.

TW: So this ghost cat belonged to Marcus, and Marcus was so rich that he had taught the cat French.

Cecil: Ooh.

TW: Yeah. Now I myself don’t speak French, but I do have a Russian dictionary, and I feel like both languages are so dissimilar form English that they must be similar to each other.

Cecil: That’s an excellent point.

TW: Right? Anyway, the cat told me that his name is Peanut, and that he died of sorrow when his master, whom he loved so much, passed from this earth and left him alone in their vast palazzo. That as a cat, he cannot cry, so he simply shivered with sadness by himself under the basement stairs every night, until his body wasted away into such a thin whisp that the wings of death could easily and sweetly carry him off to be with his owner once again. But he has yet to reunite with Marcus and so now he has only lonely immortality and no conceivable escape.

Cecil: That’s heartbreaking!

TW: Yeah. So then I told him, [excitedly] “My name is Teddy, and I love video games!”

Cecil: Oh.

TW: [laughing] I tried to feed him one of those little fish treats. It just fell right through his… He’s forever hungry and he can never eat! Ooo, anyway. So I’ve been trying to learn Russian better so that we can speak in French.

Cecil: Sure, yeah.

TW: And he’s been coming around more often saying something that, okay sounds a little bit like “Je suis triste”, “Je suis mort”. Which I figured out means, “Hey Teddy, it’s great to see you!”

Cecil: Umm, now it’s been a moment since my French brainwashing in high school, but I’m pretty sure that “Je suis mort” means..

TW: “Great to see you” yeah, I know Cecil. Alright well, I gotta get back to the complex and I hope to see everyone out there. Now don’t forget that it’s happy hour from four to six at our bar. If you can be happy for those two straight hours, you get three-dollar draft beers and well drinks. So far, no one has been able to do it. Well, je suis mort, Cecil! Ha ha!

Cecil:  Aha, thank you Teddy! [whimpering] Oh, Peanut!

8. Steve Carlsberg

More on the Community Calendar.

So listeners, I love ghost stories because they are so disturbing, but. Within the safety of a fictional narrative. Unlike my brother-in-law Steve, who just showed up uninvited to my studio and is disturbing in real life.

Steve Carlsberg: Well, now Cecil, you asked me to come up to the station to tell my ghost story!

Cecil: What, I did? Wait, why would I do that? Is that the kind of thing that – oh yeah I do remember (--) doing that. Well, go on with your story, Steve.

SC: Okey-dokey. [clears throat] Down by the old railroad tracks, on the eastern edge of town, it is said that if you go there just after dusk, you can see the ghoooooooost childrenn!

Cecil: Alright, well, we should go now, you know. Lead the way, Steve, and all of us will be right behind you, eventually.

SC: OK. Many decades ago, a school bus full of children stalled on those train tracks. The driver – whose name was Mab – tried to stop the engine, but it just kept grinding and grinding. There was noo moon! See, this was before the moon was invented by NASA scientists. Remember I told you?

Cecil: [mumbles]

SC: Alright. Mab probably didn’t know she’d stalled on the tracks, she just kept trying to restart the engine, to nooo avail. Suddenly there was a loud horn and a deep, rhythmic rumble from below them, as the tracks trembled!

Then, in the darkness, came a light. A single yellow glow, small and distant. The light was growing, as the sound of the horn and the rumble of the tracks crescendoed. The children spotted it first. [funny voices] “It’s the sun!” one of them called. “No, it’s a lightning bear!” called another.

Mab kept trying to start the bus, the horn of the train boomed, the tracks below the bus barked and rattled, and the light was so big, moving so fast, and the kids screamed “Traaaaaiiiin! It’s a traaaaa-a-a-a-aiin!” And then they all cheered because they love trains, hahaha! And then they all watched the train pass, clapping and laughing the whole time because hey, they got to see a train! [chuckles]

Cecil: So wait, the train didn’t even hit the bus?

SC: No no no no, see, turns out the vibration of the tracks had made the bus roll over them. A near miss, whew! Well, Mab called the Bus Barn and AAA and everyone got home safe and sound. But. It is said that out at the old train tracks, just after the dusk, on a night where there is no moon, if you put some powder on the trunk of your car and stop on the train tracks, your car will begin to move slowly off the tracks, without you touching the gas pedal. And then, if you check the outside of your car, you will see a series of small handprints on the powder! The ghosts of those children who were on that stalled bus so many years ago will push your vehicle to safety!

Cecil: But those kids didn’t die, I don’t understand how they, like how are they ghosts?

SC: It happened 70 years ago, Cecil, I’m pretty sure most of those kids are ghosts by now.

Cecil: I mean, are you leaving the car in drive, because then it’ll just move on its own without you having to press the gas. Oh and plus, those handprints are probably just your own handprints that form as the powder absorbs the oils that were already there.

SC: Sounds like you’re too chicken to go out on the old train tracks..

Cecil: Ugh.

SC: ..and see the ghost hands of ghost children who all died after bearing on that stalled bus!

Cecil: Yeah, from natural causes, yeears later!

SC: Which is all after they were on the stalled bus! Who-o-o-ooo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo, spookyy, spookyy! Do you need a hug?

Cecil: No. [beat] OK Steve. [sighs]

SC: Look, it’s very scary, OK? It’s not just the handprints, but if you get there too long after dusk, the sky will be mostly void. You’ll stare into that infinite maw, sizing yourself down and down, until you understand that you are a fleck, a speck, a nothing nobody loser, who will be gone and not missed. Even the stars, for all their mass and might, are replaceable dots, soundless and similar. Even a ball of nuclear explosions, 2000 times the size of our own Earth, and which will burn mighty for millions and billions of years, is an indistinguishable blip that most can’t even name. What is the use of any of this?

Cecil: OK, now I’m actually scared.

SC: [breathes heavily] So yeah, make sure you show up at the exact right time [chuckling] to see those handprints, OK?

Cecil: OK. You’re done talking now?

SC: Yeah.

Cecil: OK, great. So listeners, we now continue with our Com- OK Steve, you gotta, you gotta go.

SC: Yeah, one hug.

Cecil: No oh geez, alright, fine.

SC: Oh there it is! Ah, we did it! Ah, I’m so scared, it’s so spooky! [chuckles] You’ll need another hug later on, (big guy).

Cecil: Alright. [sarcastically] Thank you Steve.

9. The Community Calendar

Where was I? Friday morning, the wooooop will be whoooooaaa and then later, ah ah a-a-a haha, if you catch my meaning, hahaha! [beat] Oh yes, that was probably very confusing for the radio, so. Friday morning there will be nuclear arms testing just along the canyon east of Route 800. Please remember to take shelter inside your car or under a very sturdy table. As lovable cartoon character, Andy the Atom, always screams: “A nuclear bomb is probably more afraid of you than you are of it!”

Saturday night is Night Vale high school’s annual prom. Afterwards there will be a casino-themed lock-in party. Now this is to encourage kids to stay in one place together, having fun with friends, and not being out on the streets drinking and driving. It is also to encourage kids to gamble. Some of the fun casino games featured will be lottery scratch-off tickets, Three Card Monte, and trust falls.

Monday is the day that Nostradamus told us would happen. [long beat] You know, Jeremy Nostradamus told us that this particular Monday would happen and listeners, Monday is indeed happeniiiiing-ah.

Tuesday evening at 7 PM, the Night Vale school board will be holding a hearing to discuss whether or not testing helps measure children’s abilities, or whether it’s already pretty obvious that the electrified maze is just like totally unbeatable. This hearing is open to the public.

This Wednesday will be re-experiencing last Wednesday. I mean, last Wednesday was just so much fun, we are gonna repeat it over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over… [mumbles] and over.

10. Ghost Story #2

Back to a ghost story, already in progress.

[dramatically] It was ten years ago, on a night just like tonight. Here was a man driving down a dark road. No other cars. Where are all the other cars? Where are all the living people in the dead of night, I don’t know.

And this, the anniversary of the burning of the oooooold mill, in which a young woman had died horribly, by fire. And here beside him, a passenger with a strange voice asking him as the woman would ask all doomed innocents that stopped for her to take… her… home.

“Oh you [clears throat], you want to go home?” the man said. “Yeah sure, sure. Umm, where is home?” [growling] “I will give you directionsss,” the stiff dead throat of the figure rasped, and a hand touched his shoulder. He could just see it. Flesh and bone? Maybe. Meat and (symmetry), perhaps. But that does not make a thing human. And he knew from the stories that those who followed the directions of the woman from the mill would find themselves taking narrow, shaded lines, winding downwards  and downwards, to a destination and hollow as the pupil of a dead eye.

“Oh sure, well I’m heading into town myself,” the man said, grasping for any kind of human conversation. “Well maybe I can drop you off somewhere – close to home, like the Moonlite All-Nite Diner or Mission Grove Park?” [growling] “No! Take. Me. Home!”

And before he could stop himself, the man turned and met her eyes, and the man saw, the man saw her face crearly. Stop. Stop right now. I want you all right now to close your eyes. Close your eyes and imagine – trench warfare. Imagine bodies writhing out of holes in the ground to die in muddy no man’s land. Imagine a plane in a thunderstorm where the whole of the universe becomes nothing but lightning and quake.

Imagine closing yourself into your bedroom at night and seeing the shadow imprints of your eyelids after you’ve closed the door. A hunched figure at the end of the hall, flopping around on the floor, in a sheet and muling.

Imagine pulling into your driveway in the dead of night and seeing, you think – but did you? – a grey face with a crude smile peeking from your bedroom window. Imagine being home alone in the middle of a vast nowhere. [click] And the power goes out. And it’s a long, long night until sunrise. Be quiet for just a few moments, and imagine all of this.

Now imagine the face of the woman in the car. Yes. Yes. That is it. Exactly that. [growling] “Tuuuuurn heeeere,” she said, incdicating a dark narrow side road, its pavement cracked and buckling, a side road he had never seen before. [increasingly scary voice] “Tuuuuuurn heeeere, take meee hoooooooooommmmme”. And without knowing why he did it, or where the path would lead, he turned down that side road and left the main road behind.

11. A Public Service Annoucement

The finale of my story coming up. But first, a public service announcement.

After a few recent wildfires, the Night Vale Fire Department would like to remind our listeners about fire safety. They began a new campaign to help parents talk to their kids about this important civic issue. The campaign is called “Your Treachery Has Been Noted”. And the mascot is this adorable cartoon vulture with a camera for a face.

Fire chief Ramona Incarna(-) that it’s important for parents to teach their kids about the three R:s of fire prevention: relent, renounce, repent! She said that  most common house fires and wildfires are started by your kids. And here she pointed straight at you! And then she said, “Those children came from your body!”

And then she retched. Sorry.

As part of the campaign, the Fire Department issued a pamphlet to help parents with the education business. Now this pamphlet is adorned with colorful drawings of pyramids and floating eyes, you know, to make it more relatable to teens. And these pamphlets will be distributed to all Night Vale Public School students via repeating audio loops while they sleep.

12. Pamela Winchell

So, because the ghost stories competition is such an important event in our town, Night Vale’s Mayor has sent her Director of Emergency Press Conferences, Pamela Winchell, here to deliver an emergency press conference. So please welcome Pamela Winchell!

Pamela Winchell: Hello, Cecil! Hello, people of Night Vale! Hello, people or whatever of space, who are receiving this long-ago podcast millions of light years away, millions of years in the future. Hello, mutant hollow-eyed child in the dark corner of the radio studio!

Cecil: Oh my god! What.. But..

PW: He’s cute right?

Cecil: I ha- I have never noticed him before. [long beat] [whispers] Pamela!

PW: [whispers] Yes?

Cecil: [whispers] He’s staring right at me!

PW: [whispers] That’s what he does!

Cecil: [whispers] He’s horrifying! Is he a ghost?

PW: [normal voice] You can tell by his grey complexion and glowing yellow eyes and complete lack of facial expression, he is not a ghost. That, my friend, is one of the undead hollow-eyed messanger children from City Council.

Cecil: How long has he been here?

PW: Probably since the last time City Council issued a press release.

Cecil: But that was like a month ago!

PW: Well you answered your own question there, didn’t ya? Cecil, you are supposed to send the undead messenger children home when you’re done with them. If you don’t, they’ll just hang around in the dark watching you all slack-faced. I mean, kids are innocent but they aren’t very smart!

Cecil: So he won’t like hurt me, right?

PW: [singsong] I never said that!

Cecil: [laughing hysterically] Aahahaa, hahaha, he-hey there little guy! What’s your name?

[music]

PW: Oh, that was my grandfather’s middle name! [chuckles]

Cecil: How do you even spell that?

PW: Oh, B-U-M-P-F-B-U-M-B-F-F-F-G-G-G-W-silent Q. It’s Welsh. Also, my grandfather was a bird. He is no longer with us.

Cecil: Oh, I’m so sorry for you loss.

PW: What? Why?

Cecil: I mean your grandfather passing away and..

PW: It was just a bird. Calm down, Cecil. Anyway, the Mayor sent me to do an emergency press conference about ghosts.

Cecil: Excellent, go right ahead.

PW: Quiet over there, kid, I’m talking. 

People of Night Vale. There is a certain rock in the desert. The rock is cone-shaped, perfectly smooth and inverted, balancing precariously on its point. If you stand in the long shadow of the rock, you can see the entire universe in the midday sky. Stars you have never seen before, every. single. star. Constellation spinning out great and terrible forgings. You will understand that history is a myth, and humanity a fever dream, and you will also hear a very dull hum. Really dull. I got bored like 30 seconds into it. [sighs]

But the rock is really cool, OK? It is stone, white and carved into it is the entire text of Gillian Flynn’s best-selling thriller “Gone Girl”. The words are printed upside down and in Latin. Now, no one in Night Vale knows Latin, the only books on it are in the library and there’s no way any of us is going there. So I’m just assuming that it is “Gone Girl” because while I never have read the book, I’ve definitely seen the movie and it’s awesome. I’m not sure why they called movie “Furious 7” instead of “Gone Girl”, but it was really really good! So I’m just gonna say that’s a Latin translation of “Gone Girl” on the rock and not some ancient curse of rare religious relic.

Cecil: OK, is there a ghost anywhere in this story?

PW: I don’t have to say that there is a ghost in a story for there to be a ghost in a story, Cecil. Like 16 billion people have died since the lizard people first invented humans. Ghosts are everywhere, all the time! I mean, I mentioned a desert, do you need me to say that there is sand there too, or cacti, or shirtless 20-year-olds burning a giant effigy and buying 8-dollar bottles of water from corporate sponsors? Of course those things are there, it’s a desert! [sighs]

Cecil: So I’ve never seen this rock, but I’m actually really interested because I loved that movie too. I actually like the book just a little bit better. I’m actually not sure why they called the book “Ms. Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children by Ransom Riggs”, but it was still really good. So where can I go to get a look at this fascinating rock?

PW: I ate it.

Cecil: What- you what?!

PW: I. Ate. It. It wasn’t good, I mean I liked the movie way better than I liked the stone, the stone is terrible, ugh. I haven’t been able to use the restroom in weeks.

Cecil: Ugh.

PW: Really turned me off ever reading Gillian Flynn. Anyway kid, you wanna go back to City Hall? Alright, cool. I’ll give you a ride, just hop on this horse with me and let’s go.

Cecil: Oh wow, I just now noticed that you were sitting atop a horse.

PW:  Sure am. See you, Cecil! YAAAAOW!

Cecil: Oh, oh..

13. Ghost Story #3

Cecil: The finale of my ghost story. It was ten yeears agoo, on a night just like tonight. The man and his passenger drove through a road that cut through the low branches of the forest. You know, the (dry) of the desert, trees take strange forms. They writhe and loom, their shape a history of their tortured growth.

“Keep going,” the figure rasped. “Yeah I know the way,” the man said, and he did. Because the road, like this story, leads to only one place. A dark and secret place, from which no one ever returns. “Do you know why I was in that mill when it burned?” He did not. “It was because I loved that mill, and I couldn’t let it go alone. Where were you, Cecil? Where were you when that mill burned down?” “I dunno, I was, I was at work,” the man said. “I I I didn’t know it would burn down that day. I mean, I guess a part of me thought that nothing burns down and everything is forever.” “Old mills burn, Cecil. That’s what they do.” “I know I’m just I’m I’m trying to say I’m sorry that I wasn’t there.” “It’s OK. You’re here noow!” And the car reached the end of its road, the asphalt giving way to thick bramble. And the bramble rose and fell, like it was the hair on the back of a huge breathing (animal) and above them, the mill burned. It took up the whole sky. The whole night sky seemed like it was on fire, and the man, hardly able to breathe through this terror, turned and he met the face of the woman and she turned back to him and he saw, he saw the face of the woman clearly, and her face was gone. And in its place was the face that the fire had given her. And her lips opened into what would have been laughter, and she reached for him with what would have been her hand!

[quiet speech] Listeners… I’ve been lying to you. Or not lying, I’m sorry, but what’s the word for when you tell someone a fiction that you would like them believe about you, whatever that is but listen I can’t go on doing that, I need to tell you the truth. And I will. Coming up. The real story, the… the true ghost story that I have been trying to tell you. But first, the weather.

15. Epilogue

This is the true story. It is also a ghost story.

Ten years ago, on a night just like tonight, a man was driving down a dark road, a man who defines himself much of the time as a radio host. But on this night, he was just a driver. And he saw a figure ahead, on the side of the road, a brief pause in a long fog. But he knew exactly who it was, and he took five seconds to collect himself.

And he let her in. Because he know on this very stretch of road, one year to the day before that day that was ten years ago on a night just like tonight, a woman died. Oh, not the woman by the side of the road, she was still alive. Or she IS still alive. The woman who died was an old woman.

And this old woman did not die in a mill fire, there are no old mills in Night Vale, it had just been this woman’s time to go. And this way of passing was mundane. The way that death always is. But still. He mourned the loss of what had been a part of his life.

“Where you headed?” he said. And the woman from the side of the road spoke in a voice that sounded like – a normal voice, like anyone’s voice. “You know where,” it said. “You know where I want to go.” And he did know, because well, she called him and told him where she wanted to go. “I want to go home,” she said. And he looked into her eyes and he saw the familiar face – of his older sister, Abby. She looked tired because she, too, had been thinking about that woman who had died. Because before that old woman had been just a memory. She’d been their mother. The unveiling of the gravestone had been that day and… There were stories to tell. Too many stories, and the weight of them started to seem physical. And now this, her car breaking down on the side of the road?

“The service was nice,” she said. “I think Mom would have…” she said. “Yeah um, yeah. Mom would have,” he said.  

See, my mother disappeared when I was only 14. Abby had just started school, but she had to drop out to return home and raise me, and I thought that Mom would be back at any moment, like maybe she was away on business. Our out for a walk. Or just hiding.

But Mom did not come back, not for my entire childhood. And I was petulant and subversive, and Abby was reserved and controlling and she blamed me for having dropped out of school and I blamed her for just… not being Mom.

But in our adulthood, my mother did return home, sick and sorry to two children who barely spoke to each other in the morning. But we came back together to be with her and Mom… [softly] She looked older than she was. And her face – was gone. And in its place was the face that time had given her. She’s lost many battles to herself. Alcohol, debt, and lack of treatment or even awareness of a mental illness.

See, some creatures have claws, and and and and some have have pincers and and and some have venom, but some creatures have wings. And Mom flew away, when all other defenses failed her. But still, Abby and I started talking to each other, once again, trying to heal ourselves and navigating that dark and narrow path of forgiveness. And then a few months later – Mom left us again. This time for good. And a year after that on a night just like tonight, a man drove his sister home. And she gets out of the car, and and and she goes into her house, and and and he drives away, it’s it’s simple it’s this, then this, then this, then this, then this.

You see, the reality of ghost stories is that they would be comforting, not scary, if they were true like reassuring proof that we go on, after the after. Or a chance to speak with someone that we will never be able to speak with again, but instead we live in a story about us, and about our relationships, and about our families, and the choices of our families going back and back and back. And this story in the same way that a ghost story is scary because it is – unresolved. And filled with symbolism that we just don’t understand.

And family history, after all, is just another kind of ghost story. So ten years ago, on a night just like tonight, when the fog lay heavy on the lowlands, a man drove his sister home. And eleven years on a night just like tonight, their mother died, and it didn’t –mean- anything, but it happened. And the sister stood by and watched it happen and the brother, talked on the radio and didn’t even know that it had happened until afterwards, and there was nothing that they could have done. But still they regretted everything they didn’t do, and when she called to tell him what had happened, they were both silent for ten. full. seconds.

[sighing] [long beat] Thirty years ago, on a night just like tonight I, I tripped on this wire, here at the radio station, and now sometimes I can still feel it. Fifty years ago on a night just like tonight, a baby was born. Oh, no one important to this story, babies are always being born. A hundred years ago there was a war, or not, you know, a hundred years ago exactly but more or less a hundred years ago on a night just like tonight, there was a war. On a night just like tonight 300 years ago, a woman picked up a handful of grass on a sunny day and realized she was not living the life that she wanted to live. She was not sure why she picked up that handful of grass, she was not sure why she did that either. On a night just like tonight 600 years ago, feudalism. [long beat] I think. I’m actually not quite sure when feudalism was.

Oh, a 1,000 years ago on a night just like tonight, a man had the best pear he would ever have. But he didn’t know it at the time, he just thought, “Wow, this is a really good pear. 1,002 years ago on a night nothing like tonight, the same man would have the worst pear he would ever have. Oh, but he knew it at the time, he was like, “Agh, this is a terrible pear!” 3,000 years ago on a night just like tonight, people scraped in the dirt for food or they looked for it in trees or, they reached their hands into water and came out clutching what they found there, which in essence was another day of life, and they took that, wriggling, into their bodies and consumed it. 22,000 years ago on a night just like tonight – trees. That one I’m entirely sure of. There were a lot of trees then. And now but then, more of them now. 103,000 years ago on a night just like tonight, a child felt very bad about something that he had one, but not knowing how to make up for it, he ran away. But then having nowhere else to go, he returned home the next day to a family that had already forgiven him. 100 million years ago on a night just like tonight, there was (-) and stars and accidental beauty that would not be described as beauty for millions of years, and colors that were not colors just yet, just a different type of light.

And millions of years later, a man would drive his sister home because he loved her, and because it was their story to tell, they were living in a ghost story that did not have the comfort of fear, but merely a dull ache and tangle, at the heart of it. And millions of years before that, a volcano erupted and for just one moment, it looked like a fountain of jewels, but no one was around to see it happen. And hundreds of millions of years later, there would be babies born at every moment and everyone would see everything happening and it would always be so loud, but millions upon millions of years ago, before ghost stories, before even stories, it was quiet sometimes, sometimes it was quiet for a long time. Hundreds of millions of years ago it was very, very quiet for a very long time.

[long silence] And then of course, there was small talk. Laughter and love. Love of every kind. And getting to sit next to your sister, watching her daughter, your niece, in her first ever ballet fight. Feeling – lucky to be haunted by the family that you have. Huh. Well. That’s my story submission.

And it looks like I got it in just in time, as the City Council indicates that the ghost story competition is coming to a close, and they will announce their dinner very soon. Win-winner! Winner! They will announce the winner very soon, that’s yeah mm hm, yeah.

Stay tuned next for that uncertain moment of silence between the last word spoken and the first applause. And from a night that is so much like tonight, as to almost be – indistinguishable.

Good night, Night Vale, Good night.

[applause]

Meg Bashwiner: Welcome to Night Vale is a production of Night Vale Presents. It is written by Joseph Fink and Jeffrey Cranor with original music by Disparition. [applause]

[warninggraphiccontent]

26 April 2019

InCiSE-ive analysis

Which country has the world's most effective civil service? The latest International Civil Service Effectiveness Index (InCiSE), a collaboration between IfG and the Blavatnik School of Government with support from the UK civil service, was published yesterday and has some of the answers. It also has lots of interactive charts and the data behind them. I'm really pleased to have played a small part in the project - I think it's a great example of how data can enable the right conversations (we know an index can never be definitive, but it's prompted lots of talk about which countries should be learning what from elsewhere and what else would be worth including).

I think it's also a great example of a much-maligned chart type - radar charts - being used to convey data very clearly (here's a version from me). I'll write a short post on that soon (I already have some dreadful radar-related puns lined up, but further ones welcome). In the meantime, you can read a quick summary by me; an excellent comment piece from Blavatnik's Calum Miller on how the UK did so well despite, well, you know; a report from Civil Service World; and the report itself, the technical details behind it and some case studies of how the InCiSE framework could be applied to countries not included in the index. The 2017 version is here.

Elsewhere... Owen Boswarva took exception to DCMS describing data as 'fuel' (though I've definitely found myself accidentally calling it that from time to time...). It reminded me that Rachel Coldicutt started a spreadsheet to record such data metaphors. And that the ODI's strategy has some useful 'scenarios'. And that we once idly came up with some at the Institute, moving from data mining and data wrangling to data gardening (it's a wild world out there, you choose what to cultivate and how to landscape it) and data carpentry (you start with a big block of the whole world and then plane and shave it down, I think). I actually can't remember if we made all of those up or if we genuinely saw them somewhere.

It's just a few days until our next Data Bites event, which should (like the last one) be great fun as well as extremely interesting. Come! (And put Tuesday 4 June in your diary for the next one.)

Somebody said to me a few weeks ago that my hometown is only ever on the news when there are vox pops on Brexit to be conducted or something bad has happened. I'm therefore very relieved this morning that this wasn't a lot worse.

And I think, remarkably, that's the only mention of Brexit in this week's newsletter. Let's see how long that lasts...

Gavin

Today's links:

Graphic content

USA

Explore a detailed view of the Mueller report (Axios)

It's been at least five minutes since a bar chart race so here's one on Democratic candidates for president (Google Trends)

Everything's deadlier in the South (Axios)

Why you should never start a trade war with an autocracy* (The Economist)

Who’s Running for President in 2020?* (New York Times)

Elections

Spain's general election 2019: all you need to know (The Guardian -problem solved?)

Where are local elections taking place in England? (House of Commons Library)

Walt domination

Disney Faces Fresh Criticism After Heir Calls Iger’s Pay ‘Insane’*(Bloomberg)

Every Company Disney Owns (The Big Picture)

#dataviz and #ddj

The Upshot, Five Years In* (The Upshot)

Preview: The 20th Century in Infographics (May 2019) (Sandra Rendgen)

A very strange chart? (via Eric William Lin)

How we mapped rent affordability using the Ordnance Survey’s Open Zoomstack map tiles (BBC Visual and Data Journalism)

Everything else

Rich nations urged to prepare workers for age of automation* (FT)

Which countries eat the most meat? (BBC News)

What the Airbnb surge means for UK cities (BBC News)

Ministerial directions (IfG)

Sport

Can anyone break Alan Shearer's Premier League goals record? (BBC Sport)

The Premier League teams’ ineptitude index 2018-19 (The Guardian)

Meta data

Leadership

UK fails to fill role of national statistician* (FT - my take, Will's less critical though not contradictory one)

Pleased to see statistical leadership will be the focus of a systemic review by @UKStatsAuth as outlined in the new Office for Stats Regulation business plan (via Hetan Shah)

Long reads

The Fragmentation of Truth (danah boyd)

The Real Stars of the Internet* (New York Times)

One country blocks the world on data privacy (Politico)

Location

How can we bring transparency to urban tech? These icons are a first step. (Sidewalk Talk - although..., and indeed...)

Is data literacy being taken seriously enough in the UK? (diginomica)

Why Google Maps and Citymapper are terrible for walking directions*(Wired)

Geospatial Commission making geospatial data more accessible(Geospatial Commission - though as Owen Boswarva points out, one of its partner organisations is missing. This one)

AI, algorithms, automation

Western AI researchers partnered with Chinese surveillance firms* (FT)

A new alphabet for Europe: Algorithms, big data, and the computer chip(Brookings)

WE’VE BEEN WARNED ABOUT AI AND MUSIC FOR OVER 50 YEARS, BUT NO ONE’S PREPARED (The Verge)

Removing unnecessary processes the right way (MoJ Digital and Technology)

Complex automation won't make fleshbags obsolete, not when the end result is this dumb (The Register)

Some AI just shouldn’t exist (Vox)

This thread has quickly become a really great discussion on AI and government in history (via Michael Veale)

Everything else

What does it mean for NHSX to be an ‘open source’ organisation?(Technology in the NHS)

China’s unchecked expansion of data-powered AI raises civic concerns*(FT)

On openly publishing government algorithms (via Tom Forth)

You can lead a person to data, but you can't make them use it (Nesta - discussion here and here)

Government immigration database 'deeply sinister', say campaigners(The Guardian - although...)

The only way to rein in big tech is to treat them as a public service (Nick Srnicek for The Guardian)

Opportunities, etc

ODCamp is looking for a London venue (ODCamp)

JOB: Senior policy adviser, National Data Strategy (DCMS)

WORK: Help DfT scope out a data strategy (via Giuseppe)

OPPORTUNITY: Applications for @DataSciCampus sponsorship for UK public sector analysts to undertake the MSc in Data Analytics for Government starting in the 2019/210 academic year are now open (via Dave Johnson)

And finally...

Logos

Ranking UK Parties Logos (Election Maps UK, via Marcus)

Lost logos of the London Boroughs (@LCCmunicipal)

TV

32 Game of Thrones Data Visualizations (Jeffrey Lancaster, via in other news)

The Man Who Solved ‘Jeopardy!’ (FiveThirtyEight, via Tess)

Everything else

Perception (Steve Stewart-Williams)

The price of fish (via Devin Pope)

More Amazing Cutaways Of London Underground Stations (Londonist)

How did the qwerty keyboard become so popular? (BBC News)

Queen Elizabeth II just turned 93 years old. See her banknote evolution.(Norbert Elekes)

[spobycavanaugh]

Chapter 12 of “The Avengers Group Chat” is Up!

Chapter 12 of “The Avengers Group Chat” is now on AO3! Read it Here on AO3!

Chapter is also under the cut.

Clint: oh shit oh shit oh shit

Clint: what the fuck do we do now???

Sam: Maybe we stop texting each other and just TALK since that we’re all RIGHT NEXT TO EACH OTHER

Clint: no way man this texting thing is the only thing preserving my sanity

buckyhampalace: That was a pretty big word for your mouth there Clint

Clint: SHUTUP

Natasha: There’s no way you idiots can handle this. I’m tapping out of the mission and coming back. Fury can send Hill in.

Clint: nO you definitely don’t need to come back nat

Natasha: Too bad, someone has to discipline you morons.

Clint: oh fuck shes gonna kill us

Rhodey: Yeah, unless Tony beats her to it.

underoos: haha u guys r so screwed

Clint: bitch…

Sam: What the hell man? You’re the one blasted the hole in the floor in the first place. If anyone here is screwed, it’s you.

underoos: that’s where ur wrong mr rhodes. mr stark loves me so im safe. hes gonna kill u guys for letting me in his lab

Clint: the kid played us dirty

Sam: what the fuck.

Rhodey: That doesn’t matter now. We need to find a way to fix this damn floor.

Clint: i can call a floor guy?

buckyhampalace: What the hell is a floor guy?

scarletbitch: Do you mean a carpenter?

Clint: yeah whatever

underoos: earth’s mightiest heroes, everyone

Clint: FUCK YOU YOU UGLY SPIDER IF IT WERENT FOR YOU TONY WOULDN’T BE FUCKING EATING OUR DICKS FOR BREAKFAST

Natasha: That sounds much more sexual than you meant.

Clint: OH FUCK NO

Clint: NO

buckyhampalace: I DID NOT NEED THAT MENTAL IMAGE.

underoos: EWWWWWW

underoos: CLINT IM A MINOR THAT’S ILLEGAL

Clint: I DON’T THINK YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO TELL US THAT

underoos: WELL YOU GUYS KNEW IT ANYWAY

Sam: WILL YOU BITCHES SHUT THE FUCK UP AND CALL A FUCKING CARPENTER ALREADY?

scarletbitch: wait do not call a carpenter. civilians will find it very suspicious that a normal man is walking into the avengers compound. Besides will a carpenter really come at this unholy hour?

Clint: that’s usually when people climax, so

buckyhampalace: That’s disgusting.

Sam: Well then what the fuck do you want us to do?

scarletbitch: how am I supposed to know I am not the one who blasted the hole in the floor!

underoos: IM SORRY

Clint: wanda if you just USED YOUR FUCKING POWERS then this shit could have been fixed by now

scarletbitch: I DON’T KNOW HOW TO FIX A FLOOR. I HAVE A DEGREE IN ART HISTORY NOT CARPENTRY

Clint: WHAT THE FUCK WHY ART HISTORY THAT’S THE WORST KIND OF HISTORY

Sam: WHAT THE FUCK WHY WOULD YOU WANT A DEGREE IN THAT

scarletbitch: LEAVE ME ALONE YOU UGLY OSTRICHES

buckyhampalace: I have to admit it’s really funny to watch you guys stand in a circle, completely silent while typing furiously on your phones while the kid hyperventilates about the hole he busted in his dad’s floor

underoos: UM

Sam: HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHHAHA

underoos: MR STARK ISNT MY DAD MR BUCKY WINTER BARNES SIR

buckyhampalace: He’s not?

Sam: NOPE

Clint: its fine dude we all thought it at one point

underoos: YOU DID?

Clint: yeah lmao

buckyhampalace: Sorry kid

underoos: its ok mr bucky sir

buckyhampalace: Just call me Bucky

underoos: ok sir

Clint: HA

Natasha: If you idiots are done discussing who Tony stuck his dick in, maybe get back to solving the problem about THE GAPING HOLE IN THE FLOOR

Clint: YES MA’AM

Steve: Thor is here.

underoos: maybe mr thor can fix the floor!

Sam: Right, because the god of thunder has a college degree in general carpentry

Steve: He brought a guest.

Sam: Well the guest better be a fucking carpenter or else I’m fucking pushing them down this hole

buckyhampalace: I mean, wouldn’t an engineer be more useful here?

Sam: Since when are you an expert on floors, asshole

buckyhampalace: I hate you

underoos: OMG I SEE MR THOR

Rhodey: is that fucking loki with him?

buckyhampalace: Who the hell is Loki?

Steve: Thor’s brother. We fought him a few years ago when he attacked New York City.

buckyhampalace: What the fuck

Clint: my thoughts every day

Rhodey: Why is Loki with him?

Clint: someone get this bitch a phone so that he can text us

Thor: Hello everyone.

Rhodey: …

Natasha: Everyone say “Hi Thor”.

Rhodey: Hi Thor.

Sam: Hi Thor

Clint: hi thor

underoos: OMG HI MR THOR SIJFHIFHDFJSHGERHB

buckyhampalace: Hi Thor.

Steve: Hi Thor.

Thor: I have brought my dear brother with me.

Clint: ew why

Rhodey: Here, let me get Loki a phone so he can speak for himself.

Thor: Why do we not just all talk? We are all in the same room.

Clint: because it’s the twenty first century bitch

Thor: Fair enough.

Loki: Hello.

Sam: does anyone else smell some shit in here?

Natasha: Be nice.

Loki: I am not here to harm you. I swear on my right to the throne.

Clint: but ur not getting the throne. thor is gonna be king

Thor: I am king now, Hawkeye.

Loki: Until I kill him.

Sam: See, this is why no one fucking trusts you

Loki: Relax, you naïve fools. I am not going to hurt any of you. Thor and I need a place to stay for a while.

Natasha: I thought you said you were king, Thor?

Thor: I am. But a series of unfortunate events led to Asgard being destroyed several weeks ago, and now I ask that you provide hospitality for my brother.

Sam: Is that why when you got here a little while ago your hair was fucked, you were missing an eye, and you have no hammer?

Rhodey: I thought we agreed no one was going to bring that up unless Thor started talking about it first.

Clint: well we’re gonna be housing his bitchass brother, i think we deserve to know what the fuck happened to turn them into hobos

Rhodey: Clint, be more sensible.

Clint: fuck that

Thor: It’s alright War Machine. To make a long story short, our Father told us that we have an evil sister who was imprisoned, and she was coming back and was going to try to take over Asgard. Then he died, leaving us to our own devices. Then our sister returned, broke my hammer, sent us to another planet where the Hulk and our personal drunk hero was, we started a revolution and left, went back to Asgard where I lost an eye and brought upon Ragnarok which destroyed our planet and now me, Loki, and the entire population of Asgard need a place to stay.

Sam: What the actual fuck?

Rhodey: So that’s why when you showed up a few weeks ago, you looked like fucking trash.

Thor: Exactly!

Clint: so youre basically house hunting for asgard now?

Thor: That’s one way to put it.

Clint: yeah sorry man i don’t think assgard will fit in the compound or my apartment so

Thor: That is quite alright Hawkeye. I’ve already found a home for Asgard. Canada is in desperate need of more people, so I’ve sent them all there.

Sam: Wow.

Clint: well thor my dude, youre gonna have to ask tony if u and ur edgy brother can stay here because none of us here call the shots

Thor: That makes sense. Where is Stark, anyway?

Rhodey: He’s not here. As you can probably tell by the gaping hole in the floor.

Thor: Ah, yes, I was wondering about that.

underoos: mr thor mr sir can u help us fix the floor???

Thor: I’m afraid I cannot, Spider Boy.

Loki: I believe I can.

Clint: bitch YOU?

Loki: Why yes, I can. I’ve spent years attempting to murder my brother, so I’ve picked up a few things on the way.

underoos: o

Loki: Now if you would be so kind as to give me a few minutes, I should be able to fix your floor.

Clint: uM

Steve: Wow.

Sam: Holy shit, he just fixed the floor.

Clint: damn, wanda this bitch is a better wizard than youll ever be]

Sam: Damn, it looks like it was never broken in the first place.

scarletbitch: shut up you ugly toilet snake

Rhodey: I never thought I’d be saying this, but thanks Loki.

Loki: You’re very welcome.

Natasha: We’ll make it sure that Loki will stay here.