#this was super weird but I’ve certainly seen weirder

[assholeinahat]

Hey guys! I had another crazy dream last night and I thought I would share!

Okay so this dream took place in a cyberpunk type city, but kind of like the beginning of a cyberpunk world, where it looked like a more upgraded version of a city, but not quite to the classic extent.

So I was in this city when I ran into Pennywise, acting as a street performer. And he approached me, as a clown would. So of course I went with him, and we walked around the city a bit, until we ran into this little girl looking for her mom.

Now, I’m sure you guys know this, but Pennywise is a child murderer, which is probably the only wrinkle in our possible relationship.

Anyway, Pennywise approached this girl and I tagged along to make sure no child murder occurred. He asked where the girls mom was, and she seemed suspicious of him, but he was acting very comforting so she admitted to not knowing. I knew where this was going, so I tried to subtly distract Pennywise, until I realized my wallet was missing and so was the girl.

Pennywise and I chased after her, although Pennywise was more just casually walking behind. Eventually I caught up to her and asked for my wallet back, but I figured she stole it for a reason, so I let her keep all the cash.

This made her pretty happy, and she wanted to show me where she lived, which I was going to object to, but Pennywise, who was somehow right behind me, agreed to the offer.

Next thing I know, we’re in this girls house, it does look pretty worn down, but it has an upstairs and a downstairs. So we were upstairs, and I found out she also had a little brother, great for Pennywise, horrible for everyone else. Her mother was there, and although she was skeptical of us, she had someone she had to meet, someone everyone seemed scared of, so she left us upstairs. Of course, as soon as she was gone, Pennywise started acting strange, trying to frighten the kids, but without changing his appearance yet.

The girl started crying and I hugged her, not really knowing what to do. That is, until we heard a scream downstairs, and Pennywise had disappeared. I ran downstairs, and I saw the mom run upstairs, but everything seemed fine. Nothing was out of place.

I called out to Pennywise, but the mom upstairs told me he had left.

Before I continue, now feels like a good time to bring up how lucid I am in these dreams. Normally, I am lucid enough to know I’m in a dream, but not lucid enough to change things. I also normally exist in two versions, the first version is the version that is experiencing everything, she doesn’t have any real world knowledge like I do, and she just goes along with the dream. Then there is the second version, she knows it’s a dream, and she knows what the real world is like, so she has outside knowledge. When I dream, I am both of these girls at once.

With that out of the way, version one was really upset. I felt like Pennywise and I were really forming a connection, like he really cared about me. Version two however was annoyed. Obviously Pennywise didn’t care about me, it was Pennywise! But I also knew that I had to play along, because that’s how the plot was supposed to go. Version one told myself that I would stay mad at him for leaving me and that I would never forgive him, version two knew it wasn’t that serious. He was gonna come back and I was going to accept him anyway because it’s Pennywise!

So I slid against the wall crying, you know, classic trope, only for the front door to open slightly, and a strange, unsettling smile to come into view. It could only be one person! Pennywise was back! Although he looked different.

I ran up and hugged him, because he came back for me! He laughed and told me to wait for him while he went upstairs, but the idea of him murdering children upset me, so I walked out of the front door, and towards the door to the apartment complex, instead going to wait for him outside. Unfortunately I tripped on nothing and fell face first in front of the apartment complex door, only for it to creek open, and another unsettling face to peer at me. This one was not Pennywise.

I screamed and pushed myself backwards, eventually hitting the front door to the apartment, the door I didn’t close. The thing stalked in after me, and I used the door to drag myself up, only to realize it was locked and I was trapped. I did the only rational thing, and started calling for help from Pennywise, and right as I thought I was about to die/wake up, the door opened and I feel into the apartment. It was empty so I ran into the kitchen and grabbed the first thing I saw, a glass of water. I threw the water at the creature, hoping it would burn them or something, idk dream logic, but it didn’t do anything to I threw the glass at them instead and ran to hide under the couch in the living room. It was clear to me this was the thing that the mom and kids were so worried about seeing. I saw its legs walking past the couch, and I could tell it was looking for me. Suddenly I heard a screech, and then silence.

Pennywise’s face, his normal clown face, popped into my view and he dragged me out from under the couch. He didn’t say anything, but I could tell he was the one who saved me (swoon) and we walked out of the apartment together and then I woke up!

Side note, the girl and her family were alive, I could tell because that’s how dreams are. But I don’t doubt Pennywise killed some other innocent family.

So yeah, that was my dream about Pennywise, it was great! It was also longer than I thought it would be, and I even left out the whole Disneyland and Avengers section of the dream!

Thanks for reading!

[mokutone]

yo i would love to hear some of ur trans yam headcanons :) (also ps ur art is breathtaking and whenever i see it reblogged on my dash i always come here anyway to read ur tags bc they r so! good!)

thank u 🥺🥺🥺 god im sorry this has been sitting in my inbox for a couple days ksdjghsdkjgh not only have i got a LOT of thoughts to put here (this is only a selection of the bigger thoughts skdjghsdkjhg) i was also super busy the past few days!!!! ty for ur patience, ur compliments, and for inviting me to ramble abt my favorite guy!

maybe the one constant in all trans people is just like. our decision to intentionally and purposefully create ourselves, to forced into an identity by outside forces and to turn away from it in search of something else, and that’s ultimately what makes captain yamato read as a trans character to me! He goes through so many identities, and they are meaningful to him, but you can also clearly tell that he’s searching for something that really fits him.

I don’t really have a lot of firm thoughts on what his specific identity would be, I’ve seen some great nonbinary yams, some lovely genderfluid yams, trans guy yams, there’s a great variety and i delight in them all! 

I tend to imagine him as transmasculine and nonbinary but male aligned (which means he’d feel at least a partial connection to or comfort with masculinity) and while there are a bunch of labels for this experience of gender (demiboy, bigender, etc etc) i don’t see him as somebody who would use any specific labels, I feel like he’d keep his own experience of his gender fairly private! He’d prefer and be fine with masculine-coded terms of address, and happy enough passing as a guy.

AHH and on names...

I think Kinoe is the only name that I really see as like. a genuine deadname. It’s a name that means “The First” to my understanding, and so like, probably refers to him having the genetics of the first. Therefore, it’s kind of. literally a name referring to him as his biology...boy thats as deadname as it gets, huh? kill that shit and also danzō

Tenzō is also a name thats given to him, but to my understanding (all I know about the anbu arc is picked up thru osmosis lol) it’s a name that’s given to him twice, with affection. Once from Yukimi, who sees him as her brother (not a vessel for the first hokage’s powers, probably for the first time ever—even if it’s still another person’s name) He takes the name, gladly! Unfortunately danzō. anyway,

Later, when he starts to introduce himself to the non-root Anbu as Kinoe, Kakashi cuts him off and names him to the anbu as Tenzō. To my understanding: it’s a name at rest, not a name for one singular mission, but a name for his entire time in Anbu. It’s the name he keeps the longest. Again, it’s a name that’s given to him to him by somebody else, but it’s one that is given with the intention to free him of Kinoe, and all that Kinoe had to be. 

(A note on him getting annoyed with Kakashi for calling him Tenzō in main-plot:

Most of this is of course based off of personal experience, but I find it hard to believe that he would actively dislike Tenzō as a name since it was given with such sweet intentions—most of my names have been gifts, and the only one I’ve actively taken out of rotation has been bc i cannot stand the person who used it, and the way it was used, and while Anbu was certainly bad for Yamato...I don’t think it was quite that bad. I think him telling Kakashi to stop calling him Tenzō has more to do with the use of it where it doesn’t belong—for example, while it’s not exactly a name, I am happy to be called “mokutone” here, and you may notice my friends calling me by another name, but if any of those friends called me mokutone in DMs, I would be bothered by that.)

Yamato starts off as an empty codename, given to him for the purposes of his team 7 mission by the Hokage, but I think it gets such a loving and warm association from just...using out in the sunlight, with these kids that he comes to think so fondly of (he’s such a dad. god. he’s such a fucking dad) and with the friends he makes going out drinking and actually having time to socialize—and that means a lot! I think Yamato is probably the name which becomes most meaningful and like a home to him by the end of the series. This is the active name, the name where he is most himself. It’s vital for him to have that space to grow into! 

But that said, I personally feel like, if he were to continue beyond the edges of the story, this would not be the final name he bears. He’s probably well aware that a single name cannot contain who he is, or who he wants to be, and while being Given a name can be a beautiful thing (like i said, most of my names are gifts! i treasure them.) I think that, for his character arc, I would like him to name himself at some point. Even if it’s a name that only exists for private spaces, I want him to complete that self determination, to at least try it out, even if ultimately Yamato is the name everyone else will know him by.

Physical Transition Stuff

i will confess i hurt to imagine these shinobi binding 😭😭 even if an individual is binding safely (well made binder, no more than 8 hours, AND No Physically Intense Activity) they stand to risk hurting themself! In real life we gotta balance out the physical pain and the pain of dysphoria, but this is naruto and I’m Gonna Play Some Headcanon Games!

If chakra is both a kind of spiritual energy as well as directly connected to the body (as we learned in the hyūga fight) then it stands to reason that by manipulating ones own chakra, they can manipulate the body, or at least the way the body changes (such as naruto’s healing factor) 

This probably is not the safest thing to do unless you’re a mednin or following the directions of one, LMAO

The second the hell of puberty started up for Tenzō he tried to hold it back by sheer force of willpower + chakra manipulation alone 

but, manually controlling one’s chakra is like trying to prevent a stream from flowing with your hands alone, which is to say: an exhausting uphill battle.

 He’d probably only be doing it on his down time and not on a mission, but even still the most I bet he could make it doing that without getting figured out is two months.

Luckily blockers are readily available, Tenzō just had no idea and, gender being a private experience for him, was trying to handle the whole thing entirely on his own. Soon after attempting to self-regulate hormones him-fucking-self like a very valid but desperate fool, he gets an appointment, gets a prescription, and can chill out and not have to be as hellishly aware of his body constantly.

 Konoha mednin will say trans rights even if the village itself is garbage, this series is so god damn weird already, nobody can tell me a ninja taking hormones is somehow weirder than a ninja taking his dead best friends genetic superpower eye.

TWO WEEKS, THREE SPARS, AND ONE VERY EMOTIONALLY DRAINING CONVERSATION LATER:

u might think kakashi is passing him a water bottle and they both look so exhausted bc its post spar but no. physically theyre fine, but the emotional toll of having to talk about something either of them care at all about? miracle they survived.

[thewildwaffle]

Unknown Powers

Entry Log Post Crash: Day 1

In all honesty, I am surprised by the number of our unit that survived the crash. Thank the stars, though. It could have been worse, it could have been so much worse. When the ship’s engines took damage yesterday and we started falling from the planet’s orbit, I thought we were all goners.

I suppose our survival is largely thanks to Human Fatima who risked her life and grabbed everyone and yanked as many as she could reach into the nearest closet. Between her and Human James and Biet Kuhir bracing the walls, we made it out with relatively minor injuries. I mean, we were all hurting, our medic is busy as frewan, but we're all alive.

The humans showed us how to construct some "lean-tos" out of parts of the ship to sleep in tonight. It's not much, but it's better than nothing. Apparently survival training in the wilderness is part of human upbringing? Or part of their required disciplines? I’m not sure. Before, I would have said that such requirements would have been a bit excessive, but now? I and every other survivor are very thankful for their preparedness.

Hopefully tomorrow we can figure out the rest of what we need: clean water, safe food sources, etc. I'm just glad we have scanners. They could very well be lifesavers for those tasks.

Entry Log, Post Crash Day 3

I said earlier that no one in our unit had sustained too serious of injuries. That's not to say anyone's in great condition, but we're hobbling around as best we can. The humans seem to be recovering remarkably fast. I know, I know, that may sound like their typical MO, but even medic Kippari Sefra seemed a bit taken back by their recovery and improved mobility. All's for the best, I suppose, the rest of the unit seems to barely be in commission. The humans have managed to forage and gather food and have been carrying water from a spring they found not too far from our site. They even gathered wood and started two fires in our camp yesterday. They left Kuhir and I and a few others to tend to them on shifts as they continue to gather supplies or construct better shelters. I don't know where they've found this newfound energy of theirs, but may the stars bless them.

Entry Log, Post Crash Day 8

Humans are weird, but I don’t think even they are supposed to be this weird.

Our camp has transformed into a nearly proper little village with all the work the humans have put into it. And it’s just the two of them! They are tireless, I swear! But not in the way they usually are, no. Everyone knows humans have ridiculous levels of endurance. This goes way beyond that. They move as if their blood’s been replaced with trimethylxanthine, or as they fondly call it, caffeine. Our scanners have not found any trace of the poison in the air or in any of the plants we’ve been consuming, so it’s not caffeine. Even if it was, their levels of energy still go beyond that. I’ve seen a human on caffeine plenty of times, they took out a third of an enemy boarding party on their own with nothing but a bent pipe. They’re crazy energetic, but then they always crash and need extra sleep.

Humans Fatima and James just keep going though, at even higher and higher levels of energy. Medic Kippari has been monitoring them, but they seem fine. They keep telling us to stop worrying and that they’ve never felt better.

But that’s not even the weirdest part.

Since the camp has been coming along so well, and since I’ve been able to get some rest and healing, I volunteered to go out with Human Fatima to help gather food. There are a lot of trees nearby and many have fruits that our scanners have confirmed are safe for everyone to eat. We were gathering up as many foods as we could in the baskets we had woven from some sturdy grasses when Fatima spied some fruits. They were ones we had found early on to be safe and they were so good we had eaten as many as we could until they started becoming scarce in our immediate area. These were the first ones we had found in a few days. The problem was, they were at the top of a very tall tree. Humans, turriets, and even a few of the larger skeeps are pretty decent at climbing trees, but this tree had no good holds or branches low enough to reach.

Did that stop Human Fatima? IT SHOULD HAVE?!?!?!

She put down her basket, braced herself and jumped. And I mean jumped. Like, five times her own height!

Now, I can’t say that I’m a human expert by any means, but even I know that’s not normal! What in the shining light is going on around here?!!?!

Entry Log, Post Crash Day 9

Okay, still pretty freaked out from yesterday. No one knows how Fatima can jump like that, the gravity on this planet is normal. I suppose that’s a bit lighter than gravity on their home planet, but not by much. Certainly not enough for a 50 crute jump straight up! After we got back to the camp and informed everyone, especially Medic Kippari, who is getting more and more overwhelmed with trying to figure out all the strange behaviors and changes of our humans. As soon as Human James found out what Fatima did, he tried doing the same. The humans have gotten stuck in the tops of trees three times today alone.

The most confounding thing is that no one else in our unit seems to be experiencing the same changes. 

No one’s sure how to feel about this. Whatever’s going on with the humans, they still seem to be in a stable condition. Granted, it’s a weird and unprecedented condition as far as anyone here’s concerned, but it’s stable. Even if it wasn’t, it’s not like we can really do anything about it in our situation. 

Entry Log, Post Crash Day 13

We were attacked today. Wild creatures native to this planet were passing through and must not have liked that we were in their territory. They showed no signs of advanced intelligence or sentience, just feral hunger and viciousness. We could hear them braying long before we saw them. I’ll be honest, I was very tempted to hide myself in the rough shelters with the wounded - the beasts were terrifying! - but I knew I could never live with myself after such cowardice. I grabbed what weapons I could and waited. When the pack of them came into our little clearing, I started praying my last rites. I was sure this would be it.

The creatures were huge, hairy, and had wicked tusks and sharp claws on the end of each of their six legs. What really got me were the pale eyes though. Looking into them, I thought my soul would liquify into my toes. We stood there for what seemed like an eternity, just hoping beyond a hope that they would leave us be. They didn’t though, the breeze shifted towards them and they started approaching and snarling with what I’m sure must have been hunger.

Before they could get too far, Fatima and James jumped at them, yelling and screaming. This startled everyone, but the monsters seemed to recover quicker and weren’t happy. I know a lot of crews like having humans around because of their reckless bravery and fierce protective instincts for those they bond with, but in that moment, I cursed them. I thought for sure they would be ripped to shreds in front of our eyes.

Instead, as the beasts leapt, the humans would grab them right out of the air and toss them across the clearing like they were a pack of gooji fruits. Their numbers swarmed the humans, but beyond any scrap of logic or understanding, the humans kept fighting, punching, scratching, throwing, etc.

I’m not sure how long it all went on, I was too numb from shock to correctly account for time, but eventually the pack of creatures retreated, squealing in fear of the strange monsters that kept them from what should have been an easy meal.

We checked them over and couldn’t believe what we saw. They weren’t hurt at all. Those beasts had been all over them, cutting, slashing and biting, but the humans’ skin looked like they’d hardly been touched.

I don’t… I don’t know what’s going on. I… something is wrong, or… hhhhhhrrrrr… this is weird. This is weird and I feel sick with worry. What is going on with our humans?!?!

Entry Log, Post Crash Day 16

Okay. I’m going to be honest with you, entry log and whoever finds this. Things just keep getting weirder and weirder, and I fear I’m just starting to get to a point where I can no longer be shocked. That may just be a defense mechanism, after all, if I continued to freak out over everything that’s been going on with Humans Fatima and James, I think I would mentally break down.

I just… I guess this is just happening. … Anyway.

Developments with the humans since we crashed on the planet’s surface include: rapid healing, increased strength and endurance, nearly impenetrable skin (as far as we dare test), extremely high jumping, night vision, increased speed and agility, super-keen hearing, and apparently the radiation of the sun doesn’t bother their skin in the slightest (this is apparently a problem on their home planet), in fact being in the sun all day, hard at work I might add) they seem to end up all the more radiant and full of energy. *sigh* Well, at this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if they started flying or whatever next.

Entry Log, Post Crash Day 20

The humans can now fly. Well, not properly fly, fly. More like when they reach the zenith of their jumps, they can hover a bit and control their descent. Do you want to know what my reaction was when I saw that for the first time? I just said, “Sure. This might as well happen.” Because that’s basically where I’m at now. No one knows what the frewan is going on. Hopefully the Glip Unit will have some insight.

Oh yea, I forgot to mention, we got a transmitter to work from the ship’s wreckage. Um, yeah, that probably should have been, like, the first thing I said, but honestly humans are flying now so…

Anyway, we made contact with the Glip Unit, apparently they were able to survive as well. They suffered a few casualties and had more injured than our unit, but considering their unit is larger, the probability of that being the case was high. The section of the ship they were in must have broke off from ours when we fell. They’ve got some humans in their unit, so maybe they have some insight for us. They’re bringing their tech too, so hopefully we can build a transmitter strong enough to send an SOS off-world.

Entry Log, Post Crash Day 25

The Glip Unit arrived today. They have four humans in their group. That’s how they were able to pack over what must have basically been half the wreckage from their part of the ship. As well as their injured, supplies, and important resources from near their crash site. Everyone carried as much as they could, but they, or I mean the humans, carried the vast bulk. They crashed over 40 PS units away from us. So obviously their humans are experiencing the same changes ours are. 

The ship’s chief science officer was with them though, and they did have a few interesting theories as to what caused these impossible changes. The most widely believed ones have to do with radiation. We’re not sure from what though, or why it’s not affecting anyone else. Human James brought it up that it was from the sun’s radiation. This planet is orbiting a blue giant. I think he was jesting because he also went on to explain about some “super man” who was from a planet with a red giant of a star who came to Earth and the yellow star’s radiation gave him incredible (and I mean that literally that they surely cannot be credible) super powers like super strength, x-ray and heat vision, super speed, and flight. Okay, that last one really made me stop and consider for a second. Well, those last two points actually.

But… no. That story is preposterous and obviously fictional. I’m pretty sure I even heard something about a “comic book.” From what I understand of human culture, I believe that means it’s just a fictional story made for entertainment or propaganda. Even the other humans, although more willing to entertain the idea, surely have taken it as a joke the way they are laughing and going on about it.

There must be some other reason. A logical explanation.

Entry Log, Post Crash Day 38

I realize it’s been a while since my last entry. I had to share my “bunk” as it were with some of the newcomers from the other unit and somehow misplaced my comm device in the shuffle. I’ve spent the better part of two days looking for this flargin’ thing. Turns out I had left it by the meal preparation fire spot. How did I find it? I didn’t. Human Rafael of the Glip Unit did. How? Apparently, when he found out I had lost it, he tracked it down through scent.

I’ve read the human handbook. I know that humans don’t have the greatest sense of smell, especially not in comparison to my own. And yet, I couldn’t track down my own comm device, but a human could. I’ve added this to the very long and still-growing list of new and improved abilities the humans have exhibited since arriving.

Well, um, also there’s been a bit of activity in the past twelve days while my comm was missing. Like I said, the Glip Unit moved in. Everything has been very smooth with combining forces and resources. We managed to set up a transmitter that’s been sending out a signal and how to find us this last week. We haven’t had any feedback from it yet, but it’s only been a few days.

We had a few more native creatures visit our camp. None as scary as the first beasts that attacked us, though there was a flock of small flying reptiles that took to dive bombing and biting at us. Once they were scared off, we later found that Humans James, Mae, and Boris had caught a few and were attempting to keep them as pets. We had them release their “tiny dragons” as they called them.

They weren’t happy, but listened and followed. Honestly at this point, I’m just glad the humans are still respecting the established line of authority. This is a wild planet, after all. We’re surrounded by nature’s laws of the strongest doing as they please, and honestly, the humans are without a doubt the strongest here. I don’t think they’ll do anything, stars forbid if they decided to mutiny. I do believe in our bonds though. I have faith in their loyalty and our friendships. Humans, even before all the weirdness this planet has added to them, have always been renowned for their legendary familial ties and pack bonding. I don’t think these new powers can strip them of that.

And honestly, I hope that my faith is accurately placed, because if not, we are in trouble.

Entry Log, Post Crash Day 44

I hope that our signal will be found, but no one knows how long that will take for it to heard and then send a response and for them to arrive to save us. It could be tomorrow, it could be… well it could be a long time from tomorrow.

The humans are concerned about food supplies. At first, many of us were confused at why. There’s plenty of fruit in the trees, roots in the ground, and non-poisonous wildlife to hunt. It was pointed out by some in my unit that such supplies could change. Their home planets, as well as the human’s planet experience what are known as seasons. It could be warm and plentiful for a space of time now, but it could rotate through times of cold barrenness that we are not currently prepared for.

We don’t know enough about the orbital path and tilt of this planet to know if such seasons could affect us.

Even though we’re not sure, the humans have been arguing that we should prepare for “winter.” They want to do this by reinforcing our huts for possible cold weather, gathering extra wood and storing it for fires, gathering soft plant fibers or tanning hides from some of the beasts that the humans and biets have killed for food, saying that they could make extra clothes with them to keep warm. For the most part, these actions seem pretty harmless, they are using the resources or byproducts of resources we’re already using. On some, the preparations are a bit time-consuming, but honestly, if it’s keeping the humans busy and occupied in their “spare time,” all the better.

The only real qualms some have with their preparations are the human’s requests to start planting seeds from the fruits and plants we’ve gathered for food. That would make sense in the long-run, but I had to voice my concerns with everyone - I know enough about human cultures to know that if they begin cultivating crops, the rest of humanity might view this planet as a human colony. It wouldn’t matter if the humans had only planted the crops for survival. Or if those humans were crew members of a Galactic Confederation crew. Similar things have happened with planets in the past, and the political disputes are still going on. I just… I don’t want to go there. The humans have argued that if they don’t do something to stock up for winter, we won’t even be around for such future disputes. I argued that we don’t even know if this planet will have a winter.

Acting Lieutenant Greetch decided that we would not allow crops to be planted. The humans weren’t happy, and honestly, I’m a little nervous. Not just because the humans are upset with the decision, but also because, what if they’re right? What if winter comes and we starve?

By the stars, I hope we’re found soon.

Entry Log, Post Crash Day 50

We received a response to our SOS signal! It’s from a Galactic Confederation ship. They’re coming for us! We’re getting out of here!

Everyone’s thrilled. We’re preparing a party of sorts - lots of food and games. Might as well use up the resources we’ve gathered, we’ve got plenty and will be gone soon anyway. We’ll even have left-overs to bring aboard the ship when it arrives, barring no one aboard has any allergies to our local fruits.

Entry Log, Post Crash Day 61

We saw the ship hovering in the sky this morning, high up in the atmosphere. By midday, several shuttles had been launched down to ferry us and our supplies aboard.

The Captain of the ship, Captain Benga, and a few officers and medics came down to survey our condition. They were impressed by our camp and even more so with the means of how it was put together. They’re just as baffled with the humans’ current condition as we are, though their medic did agree that some form of radiation did seem a possible cause. Captain Benga has asked that I turn in my entry logs once we get settled on the ESS Chickar. 

I thought the humans would be happy to leave. However, I noticed they were the last ones to board the shuttles. They wandered forlornly through the huts that we were leaving behind, claiming that they were going to give the place “one last check to make sure nothing important is left behind.” Human Fatima had to be ordered to her seat after the second “all aboard” call was given.

I have a sneaking suspicion, or rather, maybe more of a foreboding feeling, that humanity is not done with the planet that they now insist on naming Krypton.

***

End Entry Log.  Recording uploaded Galactic Stardate 208.147.4.2601 Data stored and copied aboard ESS Chickar.

Additional Notes:

Chief Medical Officer Squifra Gharti under Captain Liutan Benga. Concerning the humans found and rescued from the planet Tarsi 6 (Krypton) among Units Glip and Sen of the former ESS Luxena.

The six humans in question were found possessing awe-inspiring capabilities. From the included Entry Log, as well as from our own testing, we have listed their abilities to include prolonged stamina, vastly increased strength, agility, hearing, vision, smell, and speed. Healing speeds have been recorded up to 62 times more rapid than usual with certain injuries, though more serious wounds are unknown and will remain untested for obvious ethical reasons. Muscular structure appears to have remained largely unchanged from control group (humans assigned to ESS Chickar, as well as human anatomical information sources) and yet and capable of feats such as jumps over 67 standard miets, and are able to hover at the peak of their jump for up to a recorded two moortiks. Since the rescue, the limits of their new-found capabilities seem to be waning, albeit slowly. Time and additional study will be needed to know if the effects from the still-unknown source any of these changes on the planet will be permanent, or cause any additional side-effects in the future. Recommendation will include additional study as soon as we arrive at an appropriate facility. In the meantime, we are keeping the humans quarantined from our own crew’s humans in case any residual radiation affects them.

Many of the Luxena humans have shared insights that their changes were pleasant and wish to return to the planet. I would recommend keeping the information of all this within the Galactic Confederation confidentials for now. We do not need rogue humans or Earth agencies traveling to Krypton and then wreaking havoc on the rest of the galaxy.

[earliebirb]

our tales are the building blocks of home

superfamily, steve/tony, domestic fluff, 1790 words

“Hey, Pop.”

Steve looks up from the book he is reading, thumb slipped between the pages.

“Yeah?”

Peter is lying across the long couch situated beside the armchair Steve is sitting in, tossing a Rubik’s cube up and down. It’s a lazy Sunday. Tony is still away on a business trip to Japan and Steve hates the thought of lingering in the too-wide bed without his husband, so he decides to make his way into the living room and make a dent in his reading list for the year. So far, he’s in the middle of his thirty-fifth book out of a hundred. Peter joined him in the living room an hour into his reading session, remnants of sleep in his heavy eyelids, sporting an impressive bed hair, and still dressed in his pajamas.

“Do you know that we’re getting into, like, the history of you in history class?”

“Pardon?”

“Yeah, we’re studying about, uh,” Peter says distractedly as he catches the cube as it falls down, “the history of Captain America, and stuff?”

“Really?” Steve smiles, intrigued.

“Yeah. And I have to say— Seeing pictures of you in my history textbook or pictures of Dad in my science textbooks? Weird. Still super weird. Probably will never stop being weird. Pictures of Uncle Bruce, too, for that matter. And Aunt Nat. And so many others.”

Steve chuckles. “Weirder than the detention video?”

Peter groans. “Oh, no. Of course not. That will always be the weirdest. They don’t really take into account the fact that having Captain America preach at you about following the rules isn’t really that effective when you’ve seen him cheat countless of times at Monopoly.”

“It’s not really cheating. There are no rules against hiding a secret stash of money before bringing it out when it truly counts to subvert your opponent’s expectations. It’s called being a good strategist,” Steve attempts to defend himself, even as his lips curl up into a helpless smile when he thinks of Monopoly nights with his family, always super loud, messy, and chaotic. Steve wouldn’t change it for the world.

“Ha. I beg to differ. Dad would certainly beg to differ.”

Steve leans back in his seat, raises his hands, palms out. “I rest my case.”

“Anyway… It got me thinking, I guess.” The tone of Peter’s voice morphs into something more serious. Contemplative.

“About?”

“About… It’s just—” Peter takes a deep breath, catching the cube for one last time before holding it against his chest. “You went through so much to get here today. It must have been terrifying. I can’t imagine what it would be like to wake up in an entirely new world. New technology, new way of life, new everything. All the places I usually frequent are gone or have changed in some way. All the people I know and love are dead. You must have felt really alone.” Peter looks at him, his gaze heavy and wistful.

Steve smiles ruefully to himself, remembering those first few months after waking up, a time when everything was so new and foreign and terrifying to him. Misery had settled deep within his chest, refusing to budge and sucking the life out of him like a parasite. He couldn’t stop feeling like he wanted to crawl out of his own skin. Some days, he wished for death, or for him to go to sleep and magically wake up back in the forties where he belonged.

“I did,” Steve concedes, holding his son’s gaze.

“And it just made me think,” Peter says, breaking eye contact as he turns to lie on his side, cheek mashed against one of the couch cushions, one of his hands reaching down to the carpeted floor to trace random swirls with his fingers as his eyes follow the movement intently, “do you ever regret it?”

“Regret what?”

Peter shrugs, or moves in a way that is akin to a shrug in the position he is currently in. He is still not looking at Steve. When he speaks, his voice is small.

“Coming to this century. Meeting Dad. Meeting us,” Peter mumbles, and when he says “us” Steve knows he means not only himself and Tony, but also Harley and Morgan.

Steve’s heart twinges painfully as he gazes at his middle child, uncertainty present in every corner of his body, eyes still fixed on the carpet below. Steve knows him well enough to know that this question is something that must have been bothering him for quite some time, that the casual way in which Peter has approached him with the subject is a façade, that Steve needs to tread carefully here because whatever answer Steve gives him right in this moment is going to stay with him for a long, long time.

Steve takes a deep breath before moving to the couch Peter is lying on, lifting up Peter’s long legs and sitting down at the opposite end of where Peter’s head is resting, his son’s feet in his lap.

“Peter Stark-Rogers,” Steve calls gently, “look at me.”

Peter does so obediently and Steve thinks he sees something akin to fear flit lightning quick in Peter’s eyes.

“I’m not going to lie to you,” Steve begins, slow and steady, making sure to look Peter in the eye. “There were times, those first few months after I woke up, when I felt like there wasn’t anything I wanted more in the world than to go back to sleep and wake up in the forties again.”

Something shifts in Peter and there is a shuttered look in his eyes.

Steve squeezes one of Peter’s ankles reassuringly.

“But,” Steve continues, maintaining Peter’s gaze, “when I look at you, at Harley, at Morgan, at Dad, at this little family I have right now?”

Steve allows himself a moment, glancing at the row of framed photographs on a nearby bookshelf. A photo of eleven-year-old Harley at his soccer match. A photo of Morgan, dressed in a purple tutu at her ballet recital. Another one of Peter and his best friend Ned, proudly presenting their project at a science fair. Another older one of Peter, Harley, and Morgan all crowded around a science experiment Tony was showing them in his workshop. A photo of Steve and Tony doing the first dance on their wedding day, the two of them utterly lost in each other, paying no mind to the onlookers surrounding the dance floor. Finally, at the end of the row, fitted in the biggest frame: a family photo of them taken on Steve’s birthday just last year. Steve’s eyes linger on that last photo in particular, taking in the details.

Steve was sitting on the very couch he is sitting on right now, Morgan in his arms, planting a kiss on his cheek. Seated on his right was Harley, hugging his arm with a bright expression on his face, mid-laugh. Peter was sitting down on the floor in front of them, back leaning against the small expanse of the couch between Steve’s legs, grinning up at the camera. Tony was standing behind the couch, hands pulling at Steve’s hair jokingly, a crazy expression on his face.

Steve looks at his own figure that was immortalized in the picture. Seated in the middle of his crazy bunch, he had tears of laughter welling up in his eyes, smiling so wide and looking like he was about to split his whole face in half. The winning detail of the photo is, of course, that each and every one of their happy faces was marred by bits of red, white, and blue icing here and there.

Steve meets Peter’s gaze again and with every bit of sincerity he can muster, he tells Peter what he knows is true:

“There is no part of me, right now, that wishes for things to be different from the way they are. I wouldn’t trade this for anything. Ever.”

Peter’s eyes are searching his own for the truth. Steve lets him, because there is nothing to hide.

Steve smiles, caressing Peter’s ankle with his thumb. “If I could travel back in time to before the serum, knowing what I know now, what I would have to go through, the people I would have to lose… I would still do all the things I did. Because I wouldn’t be able to give this up. You. Harley. Morgan. Your dad. Our family.”

Steve takes a deep breath and leans back in his seat, looking up at the ceiling wistfully. “Yes, I do miss the forties sometimes. I certainly miss my friends. I still think about them a lot. Almost every single day,” he confesses, Peggy’s brilliant smile clear as day in his mind’s eye. 

“But this?” Steve punctuates his question with a pat on Peter’s shins. “I can’t imagine my life without all of you. I don’t even want to imagine a world without all of you. You guys—”

Steve pauses, his heart clenching with longing as he thinks of Tony resting in a hotel room somewhere in Tokyo after a day of meetings. He thinks of Harley with burgeoning pride in his chest, his eldest son who is away at college, the brightest freshman at M.I.T. He thinks of Morgan, the little rascal still asleep in bed in her room upstairs, a fierce need to protect her washing over him.

He thinks of Peter, his second child, who is currently looking up at him and hanging on his every word. Peter is a junior in high school now. His mind is brilliant as ever, his brown eyes always wide and curious. He reminds Steve a lot of Tony. He has a quiet and pensive side to him that shows up in rare quiet moments like this, showing that his tender heart feels things so much more deeply than he lets on. His middle child, slowly growing into adulthood faster than Steve would have liked. Affection surges through his veins.

“You guys make me so unbelievably happy. Happier than I’ve ever been. Happier than I thought I ever had the right to be.”

Peter swallows, sitting up on the couch. Steve doesn’t comment on the way Peter’s eyes glitter with something that looks suspiciously like tears.

Steve opens his arms wordlessly and Peter falls into his embrace, his thin arms looping around Steve’s shoulders.

“I love you, Peter Pan,” Steve whispers, turning his head to plant a feather-light kiss on his son’s cheek. 

Peter sniffles against Steve’s shoulder and instead of complaining about the childhood nickname Steve and Tony had lovingly bestowed upon him like he usually does, he burrows further into Steve’s arms, whispering a quiet confession, voice low and rough with emotion:

“Love you too, Papa.”

[im-actually-ok]

Fangs

Chapter three

First, Previous , Next

Masterlist

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Ships: Platonic DLAMPR, platonic Logince

Word Count: 1336

Genre: Hurt comfort, mostly fluff

Warnings: Fangs, very slight body horror(the fangs), food, eating (i think that’s it but if i missed anything please let me know so i can add it, thank you!!!)

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Roman stood there for a second before turning his back to the door and leaning against the door to slide down to the ground, unintentionally mirroring Logan on the other side.

“Are you ok?” he asked softly.

“Im… fine.”

“You didn’t sound fine downstairs,” he said with a small sigh, leaning his head back against the door, waiting for a reply that didn’t come.

“Listen…” he started, moving a hand up to rub his eyes, “I’m… I’m so sorry. Sorry for what happened downstairs and- and for how all of us acted, it wasn’t fair to you,” Once again, there was no reply from the logical side.

“I...I know you probably don’t want to talk about it but... we can tell something is wrong, Lo. We know you, we know when something is off, and we know sometimes you need time to yourself and….. Gosh- the point is… I know something is wrong. You don’t have to tell me, heck, I probably wouldn’t even tell me, but just know… I’m here for you, man. You’re, like, my favorite nerd and I love you, we all love you, we just want to help and so just know, if you ever do need someone to talk to… I'm here for you.”

 It was a good minute of silence but Roman didn’t dare say another word, then, out of the silence came a small, timid voice, “thankth Roman,” Logan said softly through the door.

Roman smiled, “anytime, pocket protector,” he said with a small smile, “so, you hungry? I didn’t see you eat anything.

Logan was super hungry, he hadn’t eaten in a while due to the fact that he couldn’t eat much but meat with the fangs and he would have to go downstairs to get it. “A little,”

“Want me to heat up that pasta for you?” he asked, moving to stand, “I won’t come in your room or anything, I’ll just bring it up to you, ok?”

Logan bit his lip as he thought, then his lip started bleeding so he stopped. “Could… Could you..” he stopped himself.

“Could I…?” Roman asked, “could I what, Lo?”

Logan took a breath, “Thith is going to thound really weird,” he warned.

Roman chuckled, “What could sound weirder than you with a lisp?” he joked, then heard a slight growl from the other side of the door and raised his hands in defence even though Logan couldn’t see, “Right, right, sorry, not funny,”

Logan stopped growling as soon as he realized that’s what he was doing and cleared his throat before he said, “Could you… go downthtairth and put the precut chunkth of bacon thliceth into the microwave whole and cook it then bring it up to me?... pleathe?...”

Roman blinked. He… didn’t know what he was expecting… but it certainly wasn’t /that/, “Oh… uh, Ok???” he said, confused, “Am I allowed to ask why?”

Logan briefly considered telling him, but he shook his head even though Roman couldn’t see it, “No,”

Roman sighed and nodded, “yeah, ok. I’ll be right back,” He said, moving and walking down the hall, briskly walking down the stairs.

Logan could hear Roman’s footsteps recede and he sighed, slumping against the door. “Thith thuckth,” he mumbled to himself.

Roman made his way into the kitchen, going into the fridge and fishing out the bacon package, cutting it open and deciding to just put the whole thing on the plate and throw it in the microwave for five minutes, the smell of cooking bacon filling the kitchen as he waited.

Patton just stared at Roman, so confused as to what was happening. Patton had been sitting on the counter in the corner of the kitchen and he just watched Roman walk in, open and throw a whole package of cold bacon in the microwave. “Roman, kiddo… what are you doing???” he asked.

Roman jumped, having not seen Patton and thinking he was alone, “OH! Uh, Padre, didn’t see ya there!’ he laughed nervously, but he couldn’t escape Patton’s confused gaze, “I was just- uh, I got hungry! We didn’t really eat at dinner so I thought I’d grab a snack is all

“So you made a slab of bacon…?”

“...yes…” he said, leaning against the counter, a completely unconvincing lie in the air.

“...Roman-” Patton started but Roman cut him off.

“Wait, sorry, I lied, I… I brought a new pet back from the imagination, please don’t get mad, I was just grabbing some dinner for her,” he said, lying much better now.

Patton’s confused expression melted into a smile, “Aw, Ro, you should have told me! I love animals, you know that, can I come meet her?”

“Uhh, not tonight, Padre, but at some point sure,” he said with a smile. Now he has to keep up this lie, but Logan trusted him so he would do anything he could do to keep that trust.

“Aw, shame, but I will pet her eventually, you just wait,” Patton laughed, “I’ll just leave ya to it then, have a good night, Kiddo,” he said, taking his cookies and leaving the kitchen, waving to Roman as he left.

Roman smiled and waved as he left and sighed in relief once he was gone. He waited for the timer to go off before pulling out the thick bacon mound on the plate and walking up the stairs, knocking on Logan’s door once more, “uh, I got it,” he said simply.

Logan perked up and gosh just the smell of it was making his mouth water, god he was so hungry. He opened the door slightly.

Roman moved and handed him the plate which Logan took quickly and closed it once again, “thankth, Roman,” he said with a small smile.

Roman smiled and nodded even though Roman couldn’t see it, “of course,” he rested a hand on the door, “Thanks for trusting me,”

Logan smiled, “Of courthe”

Roman laughed softly, “Ok, I’m gonna go to bed, I’ll come check on you in the morning, ok?”

“Ok”

“Night, Logan,”

“Night, Roman”

Roman smiled before taking his hand off the door, moving and walking down the hall and into his room.

Once Roman was gone Logan sat down on the floor and he wasn’t very proud of this but he picked up the bacon slab and tore into it, he ripped into the meat and it honestly tasted like the most amazing thing in the world. He devoured the whole thing in a matter of minutes and then for the first time in weeks he fell asleep almost instantly with a full stomach curled up on the floor. Tomorrow he would have to deal with more hassles and questions and everything but for right now, he would sleep.

----

I’ve been on a writing kick and now i’m invested in this plot so I will be finishing it!! Yay!! I was gonna post this tomorrow but I got excited so I’m posting it now I’m sorry

Fangs Au tag:

@did-he-just-hiss-at-me @aegis-the-ace @occasional-fander

[thedeaditeslayer]

Bruce Campbell talks ‘Evil Dead,’ ‘Spider-Man,’ ‘Xena’

mm

The first time Bruce Campbell came across Sam Raimi, they were students at Michigan’s West Maple Junior High School.

“Sam was a year younger than me,” Campbell recalls, “and I remember him dressed as Sherlock Holmes playing with dolls in the middle of the floor. And I remember going way around him. And I found out later that it was Sam Raimi. We didn’t really come into contact until we got until high school.”

What a connection they made. After bonding over D.I.Y. filmmaking, Campbell and Raimi went on to do 1978 shoestring horror-short “Within the Woods” together, which they evolved into 1981 demonic thriller “Evil Dead.”

Campbell would periodically reprise signature “Evil Dead” character Ash Williams in various sequels and offshoots. And appear in Raimi-produced “Xena: Warrior Princess,” portraying slippery “king of thieves” Autolycus on that ’90s-iconic TV fantasy epic.

And then there’s Campbell’s memorable cameos in Raimi’s blockbuster, Tobey Maguire-starring “Spider-Man” film trilogy: the ring announced in the first, 2002 film, “snooty usher” in the 2004 sequel and a maître d’ in 2007′s “Spider-Man 3.”

Of course, Campbell’s made a mark outside that dynamic duo. He drew raves for his portrayal of a nursing-home-bound Elvis Presley in 2002 indie comedy-horror gem, “Bubba Ho-Tep.” Then there’s his role of Sam Axe on USA Network spy drama “Burn Notice.” Not to mention numerous other film, TV, voice acting and even video-game work.

The cult-fave actor will make his first ever trip to Huntsville this week, for Oct. 24 events at Von Braun Center’s Mark C. Smith Concert Hall featuring “Evil Dead” screenings followed by a Campbell-led chat about the film, his life as an actor and beyond. Tickets for these 3 and 7:30 p.m. events start at $32, via ticketmaster.com.

His upcoming projects include a comedy album with actor Ted Raimi, Sam’s brother, called “The Lost Recordings.” Campbell also is readying a book of essays called “The Cool Side of My Pillow,” which finds him riffing on subjects ranging from noise to the environment. He hopes to have both released by the end of this year. More info at bruce-campbell.com. On a recent afternoon, Campbell checked in from his Oregon home for a phone interview. Edited excerpts are below.

Bruce, when you do an “Evil Dead” screening event, do your discussions turn up new things about the film or that you haven’t thought of in a long time?

Every show turns up something new because it puts you on the spot. Someone will say something that will then trigger something that you had forgot. I just sat down the other day before one of these shows with my guy who is my frontman and I was like, “OK, l’m just going to tell the story of making this movie.” It’s not for questions I’m just going to tell you basically what you’re about to see. But yeah, every show triggers some new thing. I’ve seen the movie. I know how it ends. But that is the challenge, finding some new, weird tidbits.

Back in high school how did you and Sam Raimi first bond? Did you share a class or something?

Basically I got into typing class, that’s what started it. I could not believe I was stuck in this stupid class where everyone around me seemed to know how to type. I’m like, “How do you know this?” It was very frustrating. So I went to a counselor for the first time ever – I’d never gone to try to get out of anything.

So I go there and I say, “Hey can I drop this dumb typing class?” She goes, "Yeah, what do you want? I go, “What do you got?” So she comes up with “radio speech.” And I’m like, “Radio speech? Wait they do the morning announcements (at school) and stuff?” and I’m like yeah let me get all over that.

So I got into a class and Sam Raimi was also in the class. And the guy who taught radio speech also directed all the plays. We didn’t know how critical that was. The first year I couldn’t get in anything in my high school. I was auditioning for everything but I didn’t have a class with this guy. By the next year I had a class with him, and then me and Sam were in basically all the plays after that. We found out how the deal worked.

So I met him in radio speech and we’d do the morning announcements together and got to talking about what we do in our neighborhoods. I was making little regular-8 (millimeter film) movies and Sam was making Super-8 movies. So we started to join forces during the course of that high school run, that two or three years in there.

We were very productive. We didn’t really get into trouble because we were too busy like filming parties. We wouldn’t go to the parties we’d film the parties and use them in some way in our little films so it was a great guerrilla filmmaking period.

A celeb or well-known person you were surprised to learn they’re an “Evil Dead” fan?

I heard Charlie Sheen, one of his favorite things was to smoke a doobie and watch “Evil Dead 2,” and Alice Cooper’s favorite horror movie is “Evil Dead.”

If it’s good enough for Alice Cooper it’s good enough for me. You host the quiz show “Last Fan Standing.” What do you make of the mainstreaming of nerd-culture?

Every generation has its deal. In the ’40s most moviegoers were in their 40s and so the actors were in their 40s. Humphrey Bogart and Spencer Tracy and all the guys were in their 40s. You didn’t have to be 21. And then as the audience got younger the actors got younger and the people who run the companies get younger and so they’re really just catering to what’s popular.

Comic books have always been popular but now they’re really popular. Not really sure what that’s all about but yeah social media has certainly helped but I think it’s another form of escapism. Whenever times get weird, people want escapism. During The Depression they did the Busby Berkeley splashy musicals where everyone was happy all the time, when life was really miserable. And some decades where we’re really doing okay, the movies turned introspective and we go after ourselves and figure out why we’re like this and like that. And so I think we’re in a phase where we just want to be taken away to another galaxy and Marvel is very happy to help.

And you’ve been a part of that. In Sam’s “Spider-Man” trilogy, which of your cameos did you have the most fun with?

Well I don’t know it’s hard to lineate because they’re so critical. The first one I named Spider-Man. If I wasn’t in the movie a billion dollar franchise would be called The Human Spider. He wants to get in the theater in the second one, past the snooty usher who won’t let him in because he’s late, because it will spoil the illusion, so I think I’m technically the only character who’s ever defeated Spider-Man. And in part three, a superhero comes to a mortal for help. He wants me to help him propose to his girlfriend so it’s sort of a landmark case where a superhero goes to a mortal for help which is pretty rare. So I can’t delineate because they’re all critical to the “Spider-Man” universe.

Do you have any cool mementos from "Evil Dead or elsewhere from your career? Maybe something like the chainsaw from “Evil Dead 2”?

You know, it’s weird I’m not a hoarder, I’m not a collector. My brother, he has the shotgun from “Evil Dead,” but not because he loves movie trivia, he just likes guns. My brother also has I think the set of keys to the original cabin. That’s a pretty good one. Not sure how he got that one.

I have weirder ones. Like I have a prop from a 1989 movie called “Sundown: The Vampire in Retreat.” I have Van Helsing’s holy bottle where he shakes the holy water at them. And I have what I call my tchotchke shelf, where most people would look at it and they couldn’t identify what importance each item is, but there’s a story for each one.

Some of your favorite actors outside the horror genre?

Oh, I l love a lot of the old time actors. William Holden, he starred in “Bridge on The River Kwai” one of my favorite movies. I like the guys who had to work a lot. In the old days and actor would finish a job on Friday he was under contract, he took two weeks off and started a new movie a couple weeks later. Actors kind of just do one or two movies a year if they’re lucky these days and it doesn’t help them refine their craft.

I feel like the guys who worked a lot got good because they got really used to the process. I’m a fan of the studio system. Not all movies were good and not every actor was happy under the studio system, but I think a busy actor’s a good actor.

For your role in “Bubba Ho-Tep,” what was your process for tapping into Elvis’s vibe?

What guy doesn’t want to be Elvis, you know? So I worked with an Elvis impersonator for about a half an hour and then he gave up on me. He goes, “Look, man, you’re never going to get it.” I’m like, “Wow either I suck or you suck as a teacher but somebody here sucks.”

No, but I watched a bunch of footage and documentaries. There’s a good one, all his Memphis Mafia who worked with him, a filmmaker basically got them all drunk one night and interviewed them all and that’s where the good stories are. You learn a little more of the human side of him. But that’s pretty much it. I’ve never been a stage performer so mercifully there wasn’t that much of it, just in quick flashbacks.

And there’s a part of me, in the back of my mind, I want to know that Elvis' descendants, somebody, a daughter, niece, somebody has watched that movie and approved. We’ll see.

I thought it was a cool creative take on that whole Elvis thing.

I agree. That’s why I did it. It was one of the weirdest scripts I’ve ever read But yet it wraps up though. It has a weird premise but it has a really interesting theme of what do you do with old people. Do we forget these old people? And are they still useful in society, old people? And I thought it had a sweet ending, that these two old guys they kind of rally themselves one more time.

What’s a well-known role you’ve turned down?

Turned down? I don’t have a lot of those. I don’t operate in that rarified air of saying, “Oh I turned ‘Titanic’ down.” I tried to get a part in a studio movie called “The Phantom” and Billy Zane wound up getting the part." And it was down to me and Billy, I was number two for the job, but I didn’t really enjoy the process very much because it seemed more political than actually acting. It was amazing how many people you had to audition for, and you had to go up the ranks and each time it got a little more tense as you move up. So I’m good doing these weirdo little movies.

I read the budget for “Within the Woods,” the predecessor of “Evil Dead,” was a princely 1,600 bucks. What was the most expensive line item, you think?

Food and probably fake blood. Tom Sullivan, who did the special effects, probably needed to mold a few things, so he probably spent a couple hundred bucks on molds. A lot of it was footage because Sam Raimi likes to shoot footage, so we probably bought a lot of rolls of film. And we did go to a cabin to shoot it, so had to get in the car and travel so maybe a little gas money in there too. That’s about it.

What can you tell us about the status of the next installment of the “Evil Dead” franchise?

We’re honing-in, circling the building now trying to lock in a partner. We have a couple of bidders and we’re trying to just find the correct suitor and we have a script written and a director picked. Sam Raimi hand -picked a guy named Lee Cronin, who’s a very good Irish filmmaker. And it’s got a very good modern tale. It’s a modern-day urban “Evil Dead,” it’s called “Evil Dead Rise.” And we’re hoping to do that next year.

You were a producer on 2013 “Evil Dead” remake. What’s the key to making a reboot effective?

Well rebooting can be very confusing and frustrating and not always successful. Reboot, sequel, remake we have all these crazy terms. What we’re doing now is we’re saying," Look, this is another ‘Evil Dead’ movie and that book gets around, a lot of people run into it and it’s another story." The main key with “Evil Dead” is they’re just regular people who are battling what seems to be a very unstoppable evil, and so that’s where the horror comes from. It’s not someone who’s skilled. They’re not fighting a soldier. They’re not fighting a scientist. They’re not fighting anybody more than your average neighbor. This one is going to be a similar thing. We’re going to have a heroine, a woman in charge, and she’s going to try and save her family.

Speaking of a female protagonist, when you’re at a con or meet fans somewhere, who has the most passionate superfans: “Evil Dead” or “Xena”?

“Xena” hits them at an emotional level. Like, they’ll come up to me and Lucy Lawless (the actor who played the show’s title role) and just burst into tears, because her character helped them get through a difficult time. “Xena” is more representative of overcoming your struggles in life. “Evil Dead” fans are pretty fervent but they don’t cry as much.

[disappointingyet]

Repo Man

Director Alex Cox Stars Emilio Estevez, Harry Dean Stanton, Olivia Barash USA 1984 Language English, a bit of Spanish 1hr 32mins Colour 

‘You're a white suburban punk just like me’

This might be the film that most influenced what I came to want and expect from new movies in my late teens, early twenties and probably beyond. I was just about to turn 14 when it came out, and while I loved old movies (Astaire and Rogers, Casablanca) and Raiders Of The Lost Ark*, I guess I was looking something of the moment, and maybe something that felt mine in a way. And Repo Man got there before (and set me up for?) other key movies of my adolescence: Raising Arizona (which has moments that feel fairly similar), Blue Velvet, Down By Law, She’s Gotta Have It, Heathers… It feels curious, somehow, that it was directed by a bloke from Liverpool, as well as being exec produced by my favourite Monkee, Michael Nesmith. Why does that feel curious to me? Maybe because big movies set in the US can be directed by people from anywhere, but smaller ones we associate with locals?

It was also the first film I saw that was shot by Robby Müller, and I’m guessing that at least 20% of the times I praise the look of a movie, all I really mean is ‘The cinematography looks a bit like Robby Müller did it.’ There’s a great dustiness to the film, a fairly particular take on LA, and some unexpected moments of calm and beauty amid the noise and scuzz.

If you haven’t seen it – and apologies for the self-indulgence and taking so long to get to the ‘about’ bit – Repo Man has two storylines that weave in and out of each other. The one we get to second focuses on Otto (Emilio Estevez), a frustrated and bored suburban punk who accidentally ends up working for a car repossession company and being mentored by Bud (Harry Dean Stanton). His initial contempt gives way and soon he’s despiked his hair, is wearing a suit and is fully immersed in the firm’s bitter rivalry with Los Hermanos Rodriguez. 

Meanwhile, a strange man has driven into town in a 1960s Chevy Malibu with something weird and glowing in the trunk.* On his trail is both a mysterious government agency and local UFO enthusiasts, including Leila (Olivia Barash), who lets Otto pick her up. Assorted characters, including a bunch of Otto’s old punk mates who are now armed robbers, briefly have the Malibu in their possession. 

There’s a nice balance between the kid-learning-his-sleazy-trade-from-cynical-old-hands bit and the weirder stuff. Crucially, it’s all funny and all ties together. Cox does a great job of constructing his own particular world, with great touches like the super-generic packaging in the supermarkets and liquor stores where most things seem to be simply labelled Food or Drink. 

Bud is one of the classic Harry Dean Stanton roles, and Emilio Estevez is well cast as the not-all-that-sympathetic Otto. But what you want from this kind of movie is lots of distinctive minor characters, and Repo Man certainly has that, from the repo guys, including Miller (Tracey Walter) and Lite (Sy Richardson), to punks Duke (Dick Rude) and Debbi (Jennifer Balgobin) and the creepy blond federal agents. 

LA ska revival pioneers The Untouchables have a cameo as a scooter gang and hardcore punks The Circle Jerks play a lounge version of themselves, and there’s a terrific theme tune by Iggy Pop. But my favourite musical moment in the movie is Otto sitting by himself in the middle of nowhere singing Black Flag’s classic TV Party.

Watching Repo Man again, I caught myself wondering: ‘Does Alex Cox wake up thinking, “How did the Coen Brothers nick my career?”’ The answer being, of course, that Coens made a bunch of great films and Cox – as far as anyone I know knows – never came close to Repo Man again. I can’t say that definitively, because I’ve only seen a few of the many films he’s made in the years since, but none of them has a dazzling reputation. (Do let me know if any of them are worth checking out.)  He did do a fine job presenting the BBC’s (much-missed) cult film slot Moviedrome in the late 1980s/early 1990s, for which I’ll be forever grateful.  *‘Yeah, yeah, Mr Indie Movie Hipster, but what about John Hughes movies, which you were obviously into?’ That’s true, but I’m pretty sure I saw Repo Man before I saw The Breakfast Club, and I hadn’t seen Sixteen Candles, so, yeah, I am pretty sure I saw Repo Man before I ever watched a John Hughes film.

**If you’re thinking, ‘Hang on, this is few years before Pulp Fiction,' I should point out that both films were decades after the great Kiss Me Deadly. This is part of my ‘Every girl should be given an electric guitar on her 16th birthday’ series of reviews about early/mid 1980s movies

[imjustalonesomewriter]

A Future Mistake - Chapter Three

Finally, I typed up Chapter Three! I hope you guys enjoy it. If you want to read the last chapters, you can find them on my masterlist. Word Count: 2,133 

Last Line: “And just as fast as everything had stopped, there was a large blue flash, and everything went black.”

Chapter Three

“Well, you can’t fire me because I quit!” Ruby yelled as she chucked her nametag to the ground. It was cliché, but she was too angry to think of anything better than that. She had put the Bible in the fiction section as a joke, but unfortunately, her boss didn’t find it very funny and fired her, saying that was “the last straw.”

Mr. Parquada simply rolled his eyes and resumed stocking the shelves. Ruby stormed out of the building and rented a bike to ride home. She didn’t feel like walking the hour home or hailing a cab today. She rode in a straight line down the street until she reached the edge of Central Park, where she turned right.

As Ruby passed the coffee shop, she felt something vibrating in her pocket, so she stopped. 

"Ruby Thompson speaking," She replied as she walked into the coffee shop.

"Heyyy Ruby!" The person on the other end exclaimed, "It's Dennis!"

"Dennis!" Ruby smiled for the first time all day. Dennis was Ruby's favorite cousin. Granted, he was the only one even remotely close to her age, but they still had some common interests and talked often. She sat down in an arm chair in the corner of the shop, "Did you get a new phone?"

"Yup. Thought it was time to replace it."

"Your old phone was hardly a year old!" Ruby said, and Dennis laughed on the other end, "Anyways, how are you?"

"I'm great! Super great!" Dennis paused for a moment before continuing, "Guess what?"

"What?"

"I'm coming to visit you!"

If Ruby had had a drink in her mouth, she would have spit it out, "Excuse me?!"

"I thought you'd be happy to see me."

"I am! I totally am." Ruby lied.

"You don't sound happy," Dennis said, "Look, Rubes, I haven't booked a hotel room yet. I don't have to come."

"No, no, no, you can come," Ruby rubbed her chin, "I'm just really busy with school, and softball, and the play we're putting on in July. Plus I need to find another job!"

"I can help you!" Dennis exclaimed, "And I can go to your games and help you practice!"

"I appreciate it, but-"

"No buts, Rubs. I'll come next Friday."

"Dennis, I have finals and-"

"I won't be a bother! I promise."

Ruby sighed, "Alright. See you then."

"Bye!" Dennis exclaimed before hanging up. Ruby put her phone back in her pocket. How was she going to handle Dennis coming over? Ruby exited the shop and resumed biking to her apartment, but before she arrived, it started raining. Luckily, Ruby always kept an umbrella in her backpack. She pulled it out, opened it, and continued.

About two minutes from her home, a man in a polo shirt passed by Ruby, "Watch out for the weirdo up there."

Ruby stopped and faced him, "Excuse me?"

The man pointed in the direction he was coming from and repeated what he said, "Some messed up chick in an old dress."

Ruby hesitated a moment before responding, "Um, thanks for warning me." She continued biking. Ruby was expecting a random woman to come and jump on her, but thankfully, that didn't happen.

Ruby turned the corner and saw the lady the man had warned her about. She wasn't weird at all, just out of place. The woman was hunched over, sobbing hysterically, holding her hands to her face. The only thing that seemed weird from a distance was her Victorian-era dress. The thing looked like it came right out of "Little Women."

But the closer Ruby got to the lady, the weirder the woman became. She was mumbling something in between her tears and was shaking uncontrollably. Ruby spotted a bag that seemed to be from the same era as her dress near her feet.

Ruby hopped off the bike and approached the lady, "You alright, miss?"

The woman didn't respond. She just kept on crying. Ruby asked her again, but received nothing but nothing but silence.

Ruby cleared her throat, "I like your dress, miss."

The woman took her hands off her face and looked up at Ruby. She would be pretty if her face wasn't so tear-stained, Ruby thought. The woman managed to squeak out, "Thank you," before looking down and continuing to cry.

"Do you need help?" Ruby asked. She had to ask again to finally receive an answer.

"Where am.." the lady stopped to blow her nose, using a cloth handkerchief, "..am I?"

Ruby couldn’t help but laugh, “You’re in New York, miss!”

“No, I am not!” the woman started crying harder.

“Yes, you are. The Empire State Building’s just visible over there.” Ruby pointed just above the building on the corner, where the spire of the Empire State building could be seen.

The lady didn’t respond. It had started to rain harder and harder, and Ruby began to worry about the poor woman, “What’s your name?”

“Why do you need to know?!” the lady yelled. A person across the street began to stare.

“Because I want to help you. Now, what is your name?” “Why are you showing me compassion?” the woman yelled again, “Are you working with Mr. Flinnbaker? If so, I will absolu-” “Miss!” Ruby exclaimed, “I have never heard of a Mr. Flinnbaker and I am trying to be nice! Now, please, tell me your name so I can help you! The woman crossed her arms and sniffed, “Abigail.” “Excuse me?” Ruby leaned towards Abigail and cupped her hand around her ear.

Abigail frowned, “It’s Abigail! Please just help me!” “Of course,” Ruby said, “I’m Ruby.” She held out her hand for Abigail to grab, but Abigail slapped it away and stood by herself. Ruby picked up Abigail’s bag with one hand and carried the umbrella in between them with the other.

Abigail was crying the rest of the way to Ruby’s apartment. Ruby could hardly believe what she was seeing and doing. Why would someone wear a dress like that, with a matching bag, in the rain? And why was she crying?

Abby couldn’t think. Well, yes she could, but she didn’t want to. It only frightened her. This Ruby girl told her she didn’t know who Martin was, but something told Abby she was lying. Ugh, Martin. That dirty bastard! He tricked her into taking that train and now she didn’t know what to do, where she was, or how she got onto that bench. All she had was a letter, but she hadn’t read it yet.

Ruby opened the door to the building. Her apartment was on the ninth floor, so they would have to take the elevator. Abby watched curiously as Ruby pressed a button, then let out a small gasp as the huge metal doors opened.

“How did you do that?!” Abby exclaimed as Ruby walked into an elevator.

“Do what?” “Open those doors!” “I pressed the ‘open’ button. How else would I open it?” When Abby asked what it was, Ruby added, “It’s an elevator. Are you stupid or something?”

“Stupid? I am certainly not stupid!” Abby was on the verge of crying even more, “But that is not an elevator and I will not be deceived into thinking it is!” Ruby snickered, “Then what is an elevator, m’lady?” “It carries things up and down in factories and they do not look like that!” “Welcome to 2019, Abigail,” Ruby said, “Now, I’ve been holding these doors open for you. Could you just get in?” “2019?” Abby gasped, “That’s not possible.” “It is very possible.” “I can’t believe it! Are-” “Just get in the damn elevator, will you?”

Abby sighed and took one step into the elevator, then paused for a moment, then took another step. Ruby let the doors close behind her before pressing the “nine” button.

When the elevator started rising, Abby backed into a corner. Ruby just watched and asked, “Are you sweating?”

Abby looked at the screen showing what floor they were on, “What is that?!”

“Do you ever stop asking questions?”

“What is that?!” Abby repeated. She was crying again.

“I told you, you don’t have to cry.” Ruby opened her arms and motioned to the inside of the elevator, “this is an ele-” “No, that!” Abby pointed to the screen. It was at seven now.

“That says what floor we’re on. My apartment’s on nine.” “Oh.” was all Abby managed to say. The next five seconds until the doors opened were filled with silence. Once the doors did open, Abby was quick to dash out of the elevator, and Ruby followed behind her.

“Well, this is strange,” Abby said, looking around the hall.

Ruby sighed, “What now?” She was beginning to regret bringing Abigail home.

Abby ignored how rude Ruby was and continued, “Usually there is not one big hall connecting the rooms of a house. I prefer things to be more open!” “You think I own this whole floor?” “Why, yes. Do you not?” Abby replied, “I suppose only one side could be big enough to live in.”

Ruby laughed, “Are you serious?” When Abby said she was, Ruby pointed to door 904, “I own that. Heck, I don’t even own it.” Abby opened her mouth to speak, then closed it and waited for Ruby to open the door. Ruby pulled out her keys and unlocked the door, “You coming?”

Abby slowly walked into the room, but stopped at the end of the door. Ruby followed behind her and turned on the lights. Abby gasped and darted about the room.

“What is that?!” Abby exclaimed when she saw the oven.

“The oven,” Ruby said. How did she not know what an oven was?

“You’re lying,” Abby said. She bent down and tapped the glass, “What’s inside?” “It cooks food. You put the food in and-” Ruby started to explain it, but Abby had already moved to the next object that piqued her interest. This time it was the Alexa.

“What does this one do?” Abby asked, holding up the black tube. She pressed the volume up button and smiled when it lit up. She started to press the volume up and volume down button repeatedly, amusing herself with the lights, “What a lovely little tube!” “It plays music, tells jokes, it can turn on and off the lights, all sorts of things,” Ruby explained, “Hey Alexa!”

Abby screamed and dropped the Alexa when it responded with, “Good afternoon, Ruby.”

“Don’t do that!” Ruby scooped up the Alexa and placed it back next to the couch, “Watch. Hey Alexa! Turn off the lights!” The lights shut off and Abby screamed again, “What is this sorcery?” Ruby told Alexa to turn the lights back on to see Abby crouched down on the floor, crying yet again, “Are you OK?” “No! I am most definitely not OK!” Abby replied.

“How come?” Ruby asked. She was super confused. What was even happening? “How come?!” Abby stood up and faced Ruby. Her face was still red from crying, “I’m upset because I don’t know where in hell I am! All I know was on a train, there was a huge flash! All I have is my things, a letter-”

The mention of a letter grabbed Ruby’s interest. Maybe it would explain why Abigail was so bizarre.

“-and I am so, so scared.” Abby continued to cry. Ruby sat down next to her and wrapped her arm around Abby’s shoulders.

“Hey, it’s alright, everything will be fine.”

“Are you sure?” Abby asked.

“I’m positive,” Ruby lied. She took her arm off of Abby’s shoulder and pointed to a door past the couch, “Now, I’ll get you some water and you can go rest. You can use that bedroom.” Abby picked up her bag, but Ruby quickly took it out of her hands, “Why don’t you just take what you need and we can unpack when you wake up?” Abby agreed and set the bag down on the table. She opened it, pulled out an off-white nightgown, and closed the bag, Ruby grabbed a cup and filled it with water before handing it to Abigail.

“Thank you,” Abby said meekly, “for your hospitality.” “It’s no problem.” Ruby responded. Abigail turned and entered the spare bedroom, slowly shutting the door behind her.

Ruby waited about a minute before reopening Abigail’s bag and rummaging through it. She had to find that letter!

Ruby could have gagged. The smell coming from the bag was truly rancid. Finally, Ruby pulled out a plastic bag containing a white envelope. It was the only clean thing in her bag. It had “To Abigail Strinbrall” typed on it in black ink. Ruby opened the plastic bag and ripped open the envelope. She unfolded the letter and began reading. What could this tell her?

[learned-foot]

(Belated) 2019 in (Fic Writing) Review

Okay, guys, forgive me getting a little belatedly self-indulgent. But as I start thinking about my fic writing projects for next year, I can’t help but look back on the past year. I wrote exactly 290k in 2019—the vast majority of which was Starker—and I’m pretty proud of what I wrote. So, some reflections on my own work, for posterity’s sake if nothing else:

Personal Favorite Fic

Never Fail to Be Ironically, my very favorite fic was not Peter/Tony at all, but this crossover about the Thirteenth Doctor meeting Kylo Ren. It is very rare for a fic to come to me fully formed, let alone a fic about two characters who I’ve never written before and who don’t even interact in canon. And yet, that is exactly how I feel about this one. It was so exactly everything I wanted it to be—and, frankly, I think it has one of the few truly great endings I’ve ever written. It just makes me really, really happy. Runner up: Still Right Here I had to pick a Starker fave, right? After a bit of reflection, this is the winner for me. IDK if it is my single best Peter/Tony fic—I have no idea how I would even define that, and it’s certainly not near my most popular—but it was the one that put the biggest smile on my face when I was thinking over my work. This one has one of my weirder concepts, and allowed me to play around with some of my favorite tropes: hurt/comfort in both directions; huddling for warmth; resurrected Tony not being sure how to handle being resurrected; an older, slightly jaded Peter; and even a tiny bit of suit kink. I remain super pleased with how it came out, on both a technical and emotional level. 

Favorite Drabbles

For the first time this year I tried my hand at writing drabbles/drabble series. Here are my three faves: All Day I wanted to see if I could write exactly 100 words of porn. I think it went pretty well. Only In Dreams Peter/Mysterio manipulation fun. The Same Nebula/Nebula. I think maybe my most effect use of the 100 word format to convey a lot in a little space. Honorable Mention: I really like the proposal I wrote as the final drabble in this series

Most Popular Fic

Still Use Work This wins by both hits and kudos. People like kinky for!science porn, and I’m not mad about it. This is also the fic where I learned to really, fully embrace my id in porn, and I am very pleased with that.

Longest Fic

Far From Okay [27.6k] Most ambitious in scope. I’m not sure I entirely stuck the landing in all ways I wanted to, but I still had a lot of fun translating Far From Home into a world where Tony is alive and Beck is a lot rapier.

Biggest Surprise to Myself

Breaking Point

Expiration Date

Under Someone Else

This set of three goes together. Did you guys know that when I started the year I thought of myself as a not particularly tropey writer? L.O.L. This is the year I learned to brace the tropey, romantic goodness, and these three fics are the most extreme example of this. Weird curses that force people together! Miscommunications! Romance and wooing and chasing your love interest to another country to stop them from hooking up with someone else! I really had so much fun, and the end results are fics that I love, and that other people seem to really enjoy, too.

Biggest Risks

Stumbling Towards Better This was my Yuletide assignment. It was for Russian Doll, and my recipient was really interested in seeing the show's Jewish themes explored further. My first response was no fucking way. Like any good culturally Jewish atheist, I feel too outside my own heritage and culture to feel entitled to write about it. But after reviewing the show, I realized that I could harness that exact feeling, since Nadia also has a complicated relationship to her Judaism. In the end, I am really happy with it, but as I was writing it I was so worried it would go horribly wrong, and it feels frighteningly personal in a way none of my other fics do. Obvious I was so nervous about this fic for a number of reasons. It’s time loops, which are hard to pace. I wanted to hint at the reason the loop was happening without it being too obvious, which was a hard line to walk. It gets dark af, to the point where I wondered, “is this too dark?” But it is also one of my favorites in the end, and I’m glad that I went for it and didn’t hold back anything. seen the hunger in my eyes from space Another personal favorite, I felt like this had the potential to fall completely flat. It’s a “married in a dreamworld they must realize/escape” type setup, and I knew that if the part in the dream was too boring, the whole thing would fall apart. So doing the balancing act of it being a perfect whirlwind romance with no conflict—since that was the fantasy of the world that was trying to trap them—while still making it compelling to read and hinting that there was actually something very wrong was a real challenge.

Hardest to Write

Your Face Becomes Her This is another Doctor Who crossover, with a focus on Amy and Nebula. It took me a really long time to figure out what I wanted this fic to BE, and I’m still not entirely sure about the pacing, but I think I eventually got a story out of it. But seriously, I spent a lot of time just kind of writing scenes to see how these characters would bounce off each other. Feels Like Something, Maybe It Fits I wrote the first scene of this fic in a flash, and then spent literal months finishing it. Like, I meant to gift it several exchanges before I did. It’s more lyrical than my usual style, and the emotional beats are a bit different, and for the longest time I just could not figure out what I wanted to do with it.

Easiest to Write

The Pieces

Further Assistance

Resilience

as long as it takes

Not so Bad

These were each written in one sitting (or two, for The Pieces, just because I got tired), and required very little editing. They were almost all written for flash exchanges, and I am very pleased with the results in all cases.

Fic Goals for Next Year

Write the several-years post-FFH Tony resurrection time loop Peter/Tony longfic that has been kicking around my head for a while. It is going to be so angsty and I can’t wait. Peter is not in a good place. Tony is not in a good place. They are forced together. I can’t wait

Do less exchanges, and write less for the exchanges I do take part in. I have so much fun with them, but I want to be able to focus on my own projects more, and I've been feeling burnt out.

More variety. Peter/Tony is my one true love and I don’t plan on stopping writing it anytime soon, but I want to stretch my writing muscles and spend a bit more time writing other combos and canons. I started by not even offering Peter/Tony for Chocolate Box. It’ll be fun to see what I match on instead!

[hermannsthumb]

Just another cliché horny fic idea: Newt exposes himself to a kaiju sex gland which acts like the Strongest Viagra The Worlds Ever Seen in a controlled environment (his bedroom ofc). Hermann is sort of suspicious that he hasnt seen him most of the day, and recieves a vague phone call from him later on, urging him to come to his room to record his science stuff cuz-"heh, my hands are, uh, kinda busy right now."

this is SO dumb. i love it. enjoy

18+ below cut but it’s like. extremely silly for the most part

Newt thinks he may have been a little unintentionally misleading in the heat of the moment. Unintentionally! Completely unintentionally. You can’t expect a guy’s mind to be in the right place when he’s in a situation like Newt, is the thing. Anyway, what was he supposed to say? Hey, Hermann, I accidentally dosed myself with kaiju sex pollen and I’ve had a boner for, like, six hours straight, and I could use a little help in case I actually die or something.

“Anything along those lines,” Hermann says, shielding his eyes, “would’ve been far more preferable than what you actually said. Where are your trousers?”

“Trousers,” Newt says. “Ha, I love that you say that. Trousers,” he repeats, affecting his voice to the stuffy, pretentious register that Hermann’s perpetually resides. “By Jove, Newton, old sport, hast thou lost thy--shit!” Newt’s back seizes, his hips stuttering wildly, and he jizzes all over his hand; Hermann emits a small ack. “Okay, okay, that,” Newt’s almost panting too hard to even speak, “that was, uh, number five. Strength: intense. Mark that down.”

“This is obscene,” Hermann declares, “this is grotesque,” but he makes a small notation in Newt’s slopped-together chart--a page ripped out from an old notebook, lines drawn in a pink highlighter he found in his desk--as per his request anyway. Then Hermann’s owlish, bespectacled eyes (they’re doin’ science, after all, which means Hermann’s got his glasses up and perched on the end of his nose) flick up to Newt, his brow creasing in interest. “Did you say five?”

“Five,” Newt confirms, and finally being the subject of Hermann’s raw, undivided attention when he’s in a state like this, the kind of attention he usually only reserves for his equations, is, uh, really something; Newt feels vulnerable and splayed wide open, Newt feels important, Newt feels horny, damn it. Gazing between the squint behind those round glasses, that strange gash of a mouth curling down into a frown, Newt fucks up into his fist twice more and comes again with a strangled whimper. “Wow, wow, six. Also intense. Jesus.”

Hermann goes a bright, brilliant red, and quickly tears his eyes away. His hand is trembling around the pink highlighter. “By God, Newton,” he says, voice gone weak, “have some--have some decency.”

“You’re the one taking notes!” Newt moans.

“You asked me to,” Hermann says.

Unintentionally misleading. I’ve made a scientific breakthrough about the kaiju, Newt said into the phone, I need you to help me record data, it’s crucial, my hands are, uh, full--and that really wasn’t a lie, It’s three in the morning, Hermann spat back, It’s an emergency, life or death, Newt said, and it was an accident, really, Newt didn’t really mean to spike his coffee with weird black market ground up kaiju glands, and he didn’t mean to worry Hermann, he just left that shit sitting out on the kitchenette counter in the lab next to the sugar, and, you know, accidents happen. Newt’s only human. 

Newt’s only human, and Hermann Gottlieb--weird, frumpy, gorgeous Hermann Gottlieb, in all his Victorian schoolmaster glory--is sitting at Newt’s desk chair watching Newt masturbate like it’s some sort of mildly interesting TV program. He can’t be blamed for what he does next.

“Hermann, buddy,” Newt says, pleadingly, “hey. Hey. Listen. Here’s an idea. It’s a really--it’s an idea. You’re a guy. I’m a guy. We both--”

“Newton,” Hermann says, voice sounding oddly strangled.

“Two dudes who like dudes,” Newt says. “Two friends who like dudes. Best friends forever.” They should get matching bracelets. Do they make friendship bracelets for lab partners? The kaiju gland is making Newt a little dizzy. 

“Newton,” Hermann repeats.

Newt’s prepared to finish his speech with a rousing call to scientific achievement or discovery or some shit like that or say it’s completely within the lines of a man’s duty to his lab partner to jerk him off, nothing inherently romantic about it all, they don’t have to make it awkward, but all that comes out is a little whining “Please touch me.”

The pink highlighter no longer trembles in Hermann’s clutch. Instead, Hermann holds it with white knuckles, so tight that Newt’s certain it’s seconds from snapping right in half and spurting ink everywhere. “Newton,” he says shrilly, and then winces at the pitch. He swallows and tries again, moderately calmer. “You don’t know what you’re asking. You’re not in your right mind.”

Newt groans in frustration. “This isn’t fucking sex pollen, dude,” he says. “I do know what I’m asking. It’s just--a little less weird than you sitting there, you know?”

“How on earth is it less weird?”

“Oh, never mind,” Newt sighs, and wraps his fingers around himself again. They’re so slippery it’s almost disgusting. It’s getting a little tiring, too; he’s worried he’ll pull something in his arm. Maybe he could break out a vibrator instead and use that, or even just add in a dildo for the extra stimulation. Anything to make this go faster. (Maybe it’ll never wear off.) “Hey,” he grunts out, pulling at himself again and screwing his eyes up tight with the effort, “I have--top bedside drawer--uh, a vibrator, can you--”

Newt hears the drawer slides open. “Oh,” Hermann squeaks in surprise. “You certainly have--ah--quite the collection.”

“Purple one,” Newt says, and thrusts his hand out.

“Which purple one?”

“The one that’s not a tentacle.”

Silence. “I don’t mean to be crass, Newton,” Hermann says, hesitant, “but do these all really...fit?”

What is he talking about? “Not all,” Newt says. “I’ve got more of ‘em in the bottom drawer.” He wriggles his fingers. “Can I please have the purple one now?”

Hermann presses the vibrator to Newt’s palm, but doesn’t let go quite yet. “Ah. I don’t mean in the drawer.”

Newt’s eyes shoot open; Hermann is even redder than before. The picture of mortification. Mouth clamped shut he can’t believe what he just said. Newt can’t really believe it, either. “Holy shit, Hermann,” he says, his own face burning. “Yes, they all fit.”

Hermann’s tongue darts out over his lower lip. For the first time, Newt notices that Hermann’s pretty affected about this all, too: red flush seeping across his cheeks and neck, sweat beading his brow, top button undone, mouth red from where he’s very obviously been biting at it. Suspicious tenting that those ugly wool slacks do a piss-poor job of hiding. Hermann’s only human, too. 

Newt drops the vibrator and snags Hermann’s wrist instead, holding him in place as he startles. He doesn’t try to reel away, though, or shake Newt off. “Newton--”

“Get down here already, man,” Newt says, and Hermann requires absolutely no more persuasion.

Tossing Hermann into the equation doesn’t exactly lessen the effects of the kaiju gland, but it does provide a nice change of pace and a chance for Newt to rest his poor aching hand. Hermann’s a sharp, bony streak of nothing, and Newt feels every inch of it as they rub up against each other--elbow to Newt’s gut, shoulder to his pec, both of which he apologizes for profusely--and he makes weird noises that make Newt giggle--grunts, low groans that sound like he’s been punched in the stomach--and even weirder faces, especially when Newt sucks at the spot of his neck right underneath one of his big ears--his eyes roll up, and his mouth gets all twisty. It’s cute, in a weird, Hermann way.

“Can I fuck you?” Newt breathes out at one point while Hermann jerks him off through orgasm eight. “It’d be super hot. Think about it. I wouldn’t even have to stop--I could just keep going. Like a living dildo.”

“Seems a bit painful,” Hermann says.

“Or awesome,” Newt says. He allows himself a brief fantasy of it: Hermann on his back, legs spread all wide, ordering Newt to keep going, faster, harder (Newt would love if Hermann bossed him around in bed, too), even as he writhes under Newt, even when it gets so messy that Newt-- He blows his load all over Hermann’s hand again. “Fuck,” he moans, and Hermann laughs, the jackass. “I swear I usually last longer. This shit’s got me all wound up.”

“I’m sure,” Hermann says. He wipes his fingers off on the sheets, then reaches to mark down this orgasm in Newt’s bright pink log as Newt catches his breath. “Shall I use my hand again, or would you like to try something else?”

“Mouth,” Newt says quickly, because he’s fantasized about those weird lips on every inch of him for what feels like an eternity. “Mouth. Holy shit. Definitely.”

“Oh, I’ll add a new column for that,” Hermann tells him. He holds up a finger. “One moment.”

“Thorough,” Newt says, then, fully serious, “Sexy.” Best lab partner a guy could ask for, really.

[dine-on-darling]

First meeting, part 2

It took Darling a minute to realize that she wasn’t dead... probably.

She wasn’t sure exactly what it should feel like, and she was having a hard time identifying wherever she was through the haze in her head, so it wasn’t impossible that she was dead and this was just what it was like.

She brought her hand up and placed it on the wall in front of her. Actually, could she call something so warm, soft, and squishy a wall? She squinted to try and see what was all around her, but it was pitch black. As she was investigating this, she noticed the sounds that surrounded her as well. There was a steady beat above her, some weird gurgling, and what she could only describe as breathing. It was all strangely organic.

Wait.

No.

Nope, that is a ridiculous thought. That’s not possible. There is some other explanation for this.

But, try as she might, her mind kept circling back to the impossible.

Much like with death, she had no idea what the inside of a stomach would feel like; so, maybe, just maybe, she had been eaten alive?

Her breathing hitched as she let that thought settle. What could possibly be big enough to swallow her whole? How long has she been in here, anyway? Was she about to start feeling her body dissolve into nothing? 

No, no, no, that’s not what we’re going to think about right now.

She hoped that this was maybe all just a vivid dream. Except... the cold, the exhaustion, that felt all too real. This warmth around her felt too real to write off as imagination and deny. 

Fuck.

She pushed against the stomach walls with her hands and feet, hoping to catch the attention of whatever was holding her captive. Keeping her breathing calm was difficult, but she had to keep a level head, especially since she didn’t know exactly how much danger she was in. 

“Hey!” She called “What the fuck is going on!”

Meanwhile, Roan was having the best sleep of his life. His belly was full, the creature inside was the perfect weight so he didn’t feel too empty or too full, and he was nice and warm. He could have kept sleeping for hours if his dreams weren’t suddenly disturbed by sharp pains in his stomach. 

He groaned in his sleep, wrapping his arms tighter around his distended stomach and hugging it closer.

Inside said stomach, Darling could feel herself become further constricted. Her mind raced in fear, imagining only one reason a stomach would begin to move and press on it’s occupant.

“S-stop!” Her movements were hindered, but she did her best to push against the fleshy prison. “Fuck, ugh, is there anyone out there! Hello!” She honestly didn’t know what she could do in this situation. It was a long shot, but maybe there was someone out there who could, like, cut this thing open or whatever?

She drew in a breath and yelled as loud as she could “HELP!”

Roan’s eyes snapped open, his attention immediately drawn downwards. He could see his stomach moving, it’s occupant no longer unconscious. Given the force with which it was hitting him, the creature was feeling a lot better. Which was good for it, but not super great for him right now.

“Ow! Hey, calm down, you’re okay.” He sat up, positioning himself so he was leaning back against his tail wit his stomach on his lap, and started rubbing his aching belly. “It’s alright, please, stop hitting me.”

Darling froze at the words. At first, they relieved her; there was another person here, someone who at least sounded kind and could maybe help her out of here. Then the last sentence registered. “Stop... stop hitting you?!”

Roan was relieved that whatever this thing was, it could speak the same language. This would make things a lot easier. “Yeah, I know you must be confused, but I promise you’re alright. I mean, can’t you tell you’re only in the first stomach?” 

“I don’t care which stomach i’m in, i’d rather be in no stomach! I really don’t want to be food, alright? I don’t know how the hell you ate me, or what you even mean by first stomach anyway, just let. Me. Go!” She pushed against the walls around her once again, unable to wrap her head around the fact she was actually talking to whoever, or whatever, legit fucking ate her!

He grimaced at the rough shove and the tone in it’s voice. “Alright, alright, alright; I wasn’t planning on making you food, anyway. We wouldn’t be having this conversation if that’s what I wanted. For the record, if I hadn’t eaten you, you would be dead, okay? I found you in the damn woods, half frozen to death! What kind of crazy are you that you would wander out there in a snow storm?”

“I didn’t! I have no idea how I got there! Just,” She took a deep breath, trying to get her nerves to calm down. “just let me out of here, please. Then we can have a proper conversation. Okay?”

Roan nodded, then stopped because he remembered it couldn’t see him. “Okay, one moment.” He closed his eyes, focusing on the muscles of his stomach. The first stomach is very easy to get stuff out of, just as simple as moving the muscles so they push up. In no time, he felt this creature inside him squeeze up his throat, and he carefully allowed it to be spit out into his hands. Now that they were in the safety of his home, e was able to get a better look at it. It’s long, dusty purple hair and clothes were slightly damp from melted snow and a tiny bit of saliva, but other than that it was perfectly fine. He was still amazed by how small and frail it was, though; so light and easy to hold.

Darling hesitantly cracked open her eyes, cringing against the light after being in the dark for so long. She blinked, letting her eyes adjust, and finally saw the man looming over her. His shoulder length pink hair hung down around his face as he looked at her, eyes wide with both curiosity and concern. She knew she should say something, but really, what do you say to the dude who just ate and then vomited you up? She was bad enough at socializing as is. The silence stretched on, as the two looked each other in the eyes for the first time. Finally, Darling couldn’t handle the awkwardness anymore and cleared her throat.

“Um, hi?”

“Oh!” The man was snapped out of his trance “Hello! I’m sorry, i’ve just never seen anything like you, forgive me for staring.”

She tilted her head in confusion “What do you mean?”

“Well, look at you! I mean, where the hell is your tail?”

“My huh?”

“You’re tail! How can you possibly get around with those?”

She looked down, following his line of sight “My... legs?” Okay, this was already weird and somehow got even weirder.

“Legs, huh. So, do you walk on those arms, too? The only things i’ve seen with legs have had four of them.”

“No, nope, I just walk on those two, like any other human.”

“Human? So that’s what you are?”

“Uh, yeah? What, what are you?”

“Well a naga, of course.”

“A...” her tongue froze and er eyes traveled down and to the side. The comment about tails made sense now, at least.

“You... you’re a real naga. Okay, oh, kay, um, this is new, this is really very new, i’m, uh, wow.”

“Please, calm down.” Roan gently squeezed it’s shoulders when he noticed it’s breathing start to become irregular. “You’ve never met a naga before?”

“No, I can certainly say I haven’t. I mean, i’ve always thought it would be cool, and it kinda is, this is just a lot to take in.”

“Yeah, this is new for me too I guess. So... you’ve never been in a stomach before, I take it?”

“Yeah that’s not exactly something I knew was a possibility before today.”

Roan felt guilt twist in his chest “Oh man, shit, i’m sorry. I really wish I could have asked your permission, but you were ice cold and wouldn’t wake up, I really was just trying to help; I didn’t mean to freak you out so bad.”

Darling did her best to steady herself and looked up into this naga’s eyes. He seemed absolutely genuine, and something about him, maybe the sincerity on his face or the gentleness with which he was holding her, made it easier to get a grip. “It’s fine, you didn’t mean any harm.” She glanced around the room, again unsure of what to say. “Um, do you have a name? I feel like I should know your name since you did rescue me.”

He smiled “I’m Roan, and you are?”

“Darling.”

“Nice to meet you, Darling.”

She returned his smile, although a bit weaker “This has certainly been the strangest first meeting i’ve ever had, but yeah, nice to meet you too. If you don’t mind, I have a lot of questions about... everything.”

Roan moved her so she was sitting up straight with her back against his tail. “Ask away, little Darling.” 

[littlelovelyspiderling]

A Wonderful, Incredible, Imperfect Human Being

Thanks @a-bad-actor for this adorable prompt!! Hope you enjoy it!

Peter feels useless, like he’s failing everyone he cares about. While trying to comfort the kid, Tony Stark discovers the perfect way to cheer him up.

word count: 2,350

“You okay, Pete?”

When the kid didn’t answer him, Tony gave his shoulder a shake. Peter started, nearly knocking his web-shooters to the floor, and looked up at him.

“Huh? What?”

“Are you okay?” he asked again. “You seem, I don’t know, distracted. Tired. Less bouncy and hyperactive than normal.” He patted his head. “I thought you were excited about this. You’re the one who wasn’t satisfied with my work and decided you just had to add your own upgrades to your web-shooters, remember?”

Peter looked stung by his words, which surprised him. He turned back to the devices on the table, his expression clouding over.

“Yeah,” he said. “Sorry.” He fiddled absentmindedly with the triggers. “Just not really feeling it today.”

Not really feeling it today. By now Tony knew that was code for something very bad. He had not, however, learned the perfect approach to situations like this just yet. The whole ‘mentoring-a-super-powered-protege-but-also-having-to-deal-with-him-being-a-15-year-old-teenager’ was still a bit of a gray area for him, with new challenges to face around every corner. Peter Parker was an amazingly smart and hard-working mentee, but he was still a kid. A kid in high school. That was the part that always tripped Stark up.

But he cared for the young hero. Tony hated seeing him down in the dumps. So, ever since half the universe had disintegrated then come back to life, Stark had tasked himself to do what he could to lift Peter’s spirits whenever they were dampened, despite how out of character it felt. He stood beside him, tilting his head to the side.

“Is there…a reason for that?” he asked cautiously. Peter swallowed, not looking up from the table.

“I…” he began. He rubbed at his forearm and bit his lip. “I don’t know. I’ve just been feeling kind of useless lately.”

“Useless?” Tony repeated. “A kid that can climb walls and write a research paper on thermonuclear astrophysics like it’s fourth grade science—useless?”

“I forgot Ned’s birthday,” he said, voice breaking. He bent his head towards the ground. “I’ve missed four Decathlon practices in the past two months. I let a stupid rookie burglar get away last night after he hurt two boys. May asked me to get groceries on Tuesday, but I forgot the milk. I can’t even pick up groceries right, Mr. Stark. I feel like I’m failing everybody I care about. I’m useless. I keep disappointing all the people who depend on me, and I don’t know what to…I can’t…”

Tears welled in his eyes. He breathed in sharp, raspy breaths. Tony felt his heart split in two. These were the times when he was supposed to have the right answer, the perfect thing to say to make everything better. He wrapped an arm around his shoulders, guiding him out of the stool.

“Hey, come here. Come on.”

Sniffling, Peter slid out of the seat. He let Stark walk him to the couch by the wall, hating himself for crying in front of his idol, hating himself for coming up short on all of his responsibilities, hating himself for not being enough. He sat, and Tony sat beside him, resting a palm on his back.

“Listen to me, okay?” Peter looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes, tears slipping down his cheeks. “You, Mr. Parker, are an amazing little person. You’ve got more goodness and bravery in you than all of the Avengers combined, and the biggest heart for helping others I’ve ever seen.”  After a small hesitation, he started running his hand up and down his back, trying his best to calm the troubled teen. “But even the greatest of heroes aren’t perfect. You know that. Everybody fails, especially after going through everything you’ve dealt with. And if the people you care about can’t forgive you for making a few mistakes, then they don’t deserve you.”

Peter dropped his gaze, burning with a mixture of shame and gratitude, wiping messily at his eyes.

“Don’t ever call yourself useless, Peter. Nobody who knows you ever thinks that. You are a wonderful, incredible, imperfect human being. Own the mistakes you make, learn from them, and move on. Okay?”

“Okay,” he said quietly. He combed a hand through his hair, puffing out his cheeks. “I—I’m sorry, Mr. Stark.”

“Don’t apologize,” Tony insisted. “I get it. It’s tough.”

“It’s just weirder now, after everything. I feel so out of sync with the world. Stuff that used to come so naturally to me now just—”

Out of nowhere, Peter flinched, jolting upright, as if he’d been electrocuted. Tony blinked in surprise.

“Whoa, what’s wrong?” he asked, moving his hand to his shoulder. “You just jumped, like, a foot off the couch.”

Peter shook his head, looking a tad startled. “N-nothing, nothing, sorry.” He rolled his shoulders and arched his spine, as if he had a crick in his back. “Just, um, a little sore.”

“Did you take a big hit recently?” Stark applied gentle pressure to his shoulder blades, feeling for any bumps or knots. “I have a masseuse lady who can turn all your muscles to jelly. She’s approved by every Avenger except Banner, but he claims massages make him anxious.”

“No, that’s okay,” Peter said, jerking away from his touch. “I just need to stretch more.”

Tony narrowed his eyes. “Why are you so twitchy all of sudden? Am I hurting you? Where were you hit?” He gave his lower back a small squeeze, and Peter squeaked.

“Stohop it!” he yelped, hopping to his feet. “I’m—I’m fine, okay?”

“Well obviously you’re not. What’s your problem?”

A hint of pink rose in the young hero’s cheeks. “I just—I don’t like people touching my back is all. It feels…weird.”

“Weird? Weird how?”

Peter shrugged, crossing his arms. “I…I don’t know. Weird. I can’t explain it. It’s no big deal.”

Tony studied the kid amusedly, the way he was staring off to the side and flushing redder and redder and guarding himself with both arms. Gradually, the pieces clicked together in his mind.

“Weird like you’re ticklish?” he inquired. Peter looked up sharply, eyes flashing wide.

“What?” he stammered. “Oh, n-no, not like that. Something else. Definitely something else.”

“So you’re not ticklish?” Tony said. After a tiny pause, Peter shook his head. Tony smiled.

“Well, then this certainly is peculiar.” He stood from the couch, causing the kid to wince back just barely. “But don’t worry, we’ll get to the bottom of it.”

Peter blinked. “The bottom of what?” he asked, pressing his arms a little bit tighter to chest.

“Of what’s wrong with your back, of course.” Tony reached out and gripped Peter’s shoulder. “We have to figure out what’s making it feel weird so we can fix it.”

The red in his cheeks bled into his ears. “No. We really don’t. I’m fine, Mr. Stark.”

“But something could be seriously wrong.” he insisted. He turned him around. “Making peace with yourself means admitting that you have flaws. And then telling others so they can help you overcome them. I know this seems small, but trust me: taking some time to improve something little about yourself is a great first step towards overall happiness.”

“Mr. Stark…” Peter protested sheepishly, but it was too late. Tony started rubbing all over his back, squeezing his shoulders and sides, causing him to cringe.

“Now, be honest with me, kid: what feels weird and why?”

A huge bubble of giggles immediately swelled inside his throat. Peter pursed his lips and held his eyes shut, fighting the urge to wrench away.

“Ihit…f-feels reheally…” A squeal escaped him when Stark tweaked his hip. He spun around before he could stop himself, batting his hands away. “Quihit it!”

“Peter, I’m trying to help you,” Tony huffed impatiently, but by now the facade was long broken. A mischievous flicker gleamed in his eyes, and a playful smirk pulled at his lips. “Just tell me what’s wrong.”

The two were at a standoff. Peter stood frozen a moment longer before bolting in the opposite direction. Strangely, Tony anticipated this. He snagged his arm before he could escape, yanking him back and catching him around the middle. High-pitched giggles started pouring from the kid’s lips before Stark even laid a finger on him, which he thought was quite adorable.

“Nohoho! Mr. Stahark! Plehease don’t!” He kicked and shrieked like a little kid. Tony snorted.

“Nobody solves their problems by running away from them, Peter.” He dumped the young hero on the couch, curling his hands into claws. “You’ve got to learn to face them head-on.”

With that, Tony pounced on him, scurrying his fingers up and down the kid’s sides. Immediately, Peter burst into hysterical laughter, scrunching into a ball and squirming like crazy. Stark chuckled along with the giggly teen, endeared by his childlike response. He never knew Spider-Man was so ticklish, and now he was curious how he didn’t realize it sooner.

“Wahahahait! Plehehease! Ahahahaha!” He bucked and twitched and laughed helplessly, burying his face between the cushions.

“I’m confused here, Pete,” Stark said, squeezing his ribs and poking at his underarms. “I thought you said you weren’t ticklish. If being ticklish isn’t what’s causing this, what else could it be?”

“Stohohahahap it!” he squealed, voice muffled. The teasing only made him blush more.

“But look how happy you are. This is the exact kind of cheering up you need!” Tony changed his approach, wrapping both hands around the kid’s scrawny torso and drilling his entire midsection with tickles. Peter screeched, trying desperately to guard himself, but failing miserably.

“Ehehehahahaha shihihihihit!” he cried, quaking with laughter. If the embarrassment didn’t kill him, the unstoppable giggling certainly would. “Oh gohohohod, ohokahahay! You wihihihihihin, Mr. Stahahahark! I’m tihihihihicklish! Now stohohohahahahap it! Pleasepleasepleaseplehehehehehehehease!”

Tony chuckled. “Really? You think so? No way!” He shoved his hands through the kid’s defenses and scribbled his fingers against his belly. “I can’t believe you lied to me, after all I’ve done to brighten your mood. Now you’re really gonna get it.”

Peter rolled on to his side, laughing wildly. “Nohohohohaha! I tohohohold the truhuhuth! You’re suhupposed to lehehet me gohohahahahAHAHAHAHA!”

The kid’s frantic movements had left him vulnerable, and Stark made him pay for it. He snaked a hand up his shirt and started clawing at his defenseless tummy and sides, sending Peter into an instant frenzy. He thrashed and squirmed, grappling at Tony’s wrist, shrieking with laughter, which only exposed more of his tickle spots to his mentor’s evils fingers. Stark liked being playful with the kid. It brought out sides of both of them that had grown increasingly scarce.

“AHAHAHAHA! NOHOHOHAHAHAHA! EHEHEHAHAHAHA!” When Tony slipped his other hand up to his armpit, Peter was pretty much down for. All he could do was laugh and twitch, face beat-red and eyes brimming with tears.

“I’ll stop on one condition,” Stark said, wrecking the kid with the most sinister tickle tactics he knew, chuckling at how easy it was to render him a giggly, helpless blob. “I want you to say, out loud, that you’re a wonderful, incredible, imperfect human being who deserves all the happiness in the world. Say that, and I’ll stop.”

Peter laughed and squeaked, hiccups jumping from his lips and wracking his entire frame. He shook his head, eyes squeezed shut. “I C-CAHAHAHAHAN’T!  PLEHEHEHEHEASE! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

Tony shrugged. “Well, then I guess I’m never stopping. This is your life now, kid.” He switched between tickling every one of Peter’s ribs and grinding his knuckles into his entire ribcage. The kid was worn into giggly shambles. His entire body was tinted pink.

“AHAHAHAHAAA HEHEHEHEHELP!” he pleaded. “OHOHOKAHAHAY AHAHAHAHA! IHIHIHIHI’M EHEHAHAHA WAHAHANDERFUHUHUHAHAHAHA!” He whipped his head from side to side, every word sputtering from his lips swallowed up by uncontrollable laughter. This was actual torture.

“You’ve got this! You can do it!” Stark moved his tickle attack back down to his sides, teasing them with no less enthusiasm but knowing that if he stayed on Peter’s more ticklish spots, the poor kid might never get the words out. Peter jumped and yelped at his every touch like his fingers were full of sparks.

“SHUHUHUHUT UHUHUHUP!” he laughed. “O-OHOKAHAY, I—IHIHIHIHI’M AHA WAHAHAHANDERFUHUHUL IHIHIHIMPERFECT THIHIHIHIHING WHOOHOO HAHAHAS—WHOOHOO WAHAHAHANTS—WAHAHAHAHAIT—THEEHEE WOHOHOHORLD’S HAHAHAHAHAPPINEHESS, OR—?” Peter pealed into a fit of delirious giggling. “OHOHO GOHOHAHAHAHAD! I CAHAHAHAN’T REMEHEHEHEMBER! EHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

Tony smiled at the winded teenager. “Close enough,” he said. For the finale, right before letting him off the hook, Stark pulled up his shirt and blew a big, fat, monstrous raspberry into his exposed tummy. Peter all but screamed, flailing like a fish out of water, wrenching away and burrowing deep into the corner of the couch. He continued to giggle long after Tony had stopped tickling him.

“You know, I told you before that you’re never useless. But we both have to admit—tickling kinda makes you a little bit useless. You go from a big strong superhero to a puddle of giggles in seconds.” He patted his head, chuckling softly. “But in every other aspect, you’re anything but useless. I hope you know that. Except cooking. Your aunt says you suck at that, too.”

“Ihihi can’t breheheheathe…” Peter wheezed, flopping on to his back. “Ugh. Y-you’re ehehehevil, Mr. Stark…”

Tony snapped his fingers. “Oh, good point. If I ever want you to stay away from a top-tier bad guy, I’ll make sure to to tell them your weakness to ensure you steer clear of them.” He stood and poked him in the side to punctuate his threat, making the kid flinch and squeal. “See? You’re so useful. Keep up the great work, bud. I’ll be in the lab if you need me.”

Stark left the room, working for thirty minutes. For that whole chunk of time, the kid never showed. Perhaps he was mad at him. When Tony went back up to check on Peter, he was in the exact same spot he had left him. Bundled up on the couch, knees pulled to his chest, except now he was sleeping. He walked up to him, watching his chest rise and fall with slow, steady breaths, a smile lifting the corners of his lips.

Peter Parker, everyone. A wonderful, incredible, perfect human being.

[spn-ficfanatic]

Talking Hands

Summary: As an extra on the set you never expected to be noticed, least of all by one of the stars. But when Jared shows an interest in you, will your biggest insecurity stop you from following your heart?

Characters: Jared x Deaf!Reader, Jensen, Rob Setting the Scene: As I wrote this I imagined them filming the episode 11.20 “Don’t Call Me Shurley”, when Sam and Dean discover Chuck is God Words: 2532 Genre: Fluff and humour Warnings: Nil

You caught his eye the moment he saw you. The scene was difficult, there were a lot of people running around and a lot of distractions, yet somehow you still stood out from the crowd. You were so expressive, and during every take without fail you got the waterworks going which gave your fear all the more authenticity. He didn’t think he’d ever seen an extra get into character with such apparent ease, you were clearly a natural.

Once the scene was over he went to chat with Bob. Surely this girl should be front and centre, maybe even given a line or something. Bob nodded and admitted he agreed with him, however he’d already asked her if she’d like some dialogue and she’d turned him down with a simple shake of her head before patting him kindly on the arm and walking away. He shook his head in disbelief and turned back to his screen, getting ready for the next shots while everyone else took a break for lunch. Jared scratched his head and took a seat next to Jensen and Rob, who had already started to eat.

“Dude, what’s up your butt?” Jensen mumbled through his full mouth. Jared sighed and lay back against the tree he was sitting in front of, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands.

“He’s been eyeing off an extra the entire scene, you didn’t notice?” Rob scoffed, taking a sip of his can of Coke.

“Oh really?” Jensen asked with a grin and a high-pitched voice. “Which one?”

Rob pointed her out, and Jensen slapped Jared on the arm.

“Dude! She’s fricking hot! Why the hell are you sitting with us, go talk to her!”

“What? She doesn’t want to talk to me, she’s obviously busy. You know. Reading her book,” Jared replied weakly, knowing the excuse was not going to get him out of this.

“That excuse is not going to get you out of this,” Jensen replied, and Jared laughed humorlessly at his own premonition. “Stand up and go talk to her, or I swear to this guy,” pointing to Rob, “that I’ll go over myself and tell her that my best friend thinks she’s super duper cute and was wondering if she’d be his girlfriend.”

Knowing he would absolutely 100% do it Jared quickly got up, holding his hands in surrender, and brushed the grass of his butt before taking a deep breath and walking over to you.

You were sitting on a chair alone, reading a book with headphones covering your ears. One leg hung loosely to the ground while the other was tucked comfortably under your bottom, and your hair fell loosely against your cheeks. You smiled as you got to a particular part in your story, and Jared felt his heart leap a little. Clearing his throat, he knelt down and gently put a hand on your knee so as not to startle you. You looked up and seemed a little surprised to find one of the shows’ stars sitting in front of you at that moment. The look passed quickly though, and when he gestured for you to take your earphones off you obliged. It was easy for you to forget you were wearing them and you didn’t want to appear rude; he couldn’t possibly know you weren’t listening to anything, and that you purely wore them to avoid talking to strangers. You’d absolutely make an exception for him though.

Your eyes instinctively fell to his lips.

“Whatcha reading?” he asked simply.

You smiled and turned the cover so he could see, and he grinned broadly.

“You’re reading Macbeth? On a TV set?” he asked with a surprised laugh. You smiled shyly in return and felt the blush creeping across your face as you nodded. “You’re not worried you’ll curse the set and something will fall down on the director or something?”

You’d become very good at holding in your laughter, and despite the overwhelming urge to crack one out you chuckled lightly. You couldn’t understand the look Jared was giving you, but you couldn’t ignore the fact it was a similar one every boy in secondary school and university gave you before they asked you out. And before they found out you were damaged goods. You saw him hold his hand out, and caught his lips just as he spoke.

“My name’s Jared,” he said.

Like he needs an introduction, PAH!

You cleared your throat and prepared yourself for the inevitable disappointment you’d both feel in 7 seconds time. Instead of holding out your hand, you signed your name and usual greeting, and you saw his mouth fall open in surprise.

Hi, my name’s Y/N. Do you know sign language?

You let your hands fall and frowned as he continued to stare. Sighing at your confirmation that he didn’t know ASL you picked up your book and prepared to sit back, but he grabbed your hand to stop you. You looked at him with confusion, already expecting him to be halfway across the quad and back to his friends.

“You’re deaf?” he asked, pointing to his ears. You gave a lopsided smile and nodded.

“You can read lips though?” he continued, pointing to his own. You nodded again, raising a curious eyebrow. No guy had bothered to get this far before, and you wondered how far he’d go before giving up.

“Can you speak?” he pressed on, and against your better instincts you opened your mouth before shutting it again. Scratching your arm nervously, you held up a finger asking him to ‘wait’ while you dug into your bag and pulled out your phone. Opening the app you sought you typed your answer and held it up for him.

“I can speak, but I don’t like to. I sound weird,” it spoke for you in its robotic voice, and he let out a little chuckle.

“If you can’t hear yourself, how do you know?”

You burst out laughing before quickly covering your mouth with your hand, embarrassed. With a gentle smile Jared took your hand in his and pulled it back, placing it on your lap. You weren’t sure if he was aware that he’d left his hand there, and you certainly weren’t going to do anything to stop it.

“You sound fine, I promise. You have a lovely laugh; Jensen laughs weirder than that,” he grinned, tilting his head to point in his direction, and you grinned back despite yourself. Taking a deep breath you put your phone down and cleared your throat, holding your hand out for him to shake.

“My name’s Y/N,” you told him, and could have died from happiness then and there when he didn’t frown and make an excuse to leave. In fact, he looked like he was resisting the urge to hug you, but for now he settled on the handshake. It was firm and tight, and lingered a few moments longer than was normal for casual conversation.

“It’s nice to meet you Y/N,” he told you sincerely.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“His trailer, it stank so bad they had to buy him a new one,” Jared laughed loudly, and you along with him. You’d gone out for drinks after the shoot and were currently sitting cosily in the booth of a gorgeous local pub. Cider in hand, you held it out and clinked his glass.

“A job well done,” you grinned at him, taking a sip of your drink and holding it in your lap. “So that’s why you guys don’t prank each other?”

Jared shook his head, putting his own glass on the table. “Nah, we’re better as a team for sure. You’re lucky we didn’t get you, we usually prank the ones we like,” he replied with a playful wink.

“I can only imagine the sorts of things you could do to me of all people,” you giggled. “Like putting a fart machine in my handbag or something.”

“Oh my God that’s genius!” Jared burst out with laughter. “I wish you’d hang around, I reckon you’d be a bit devilish in the pranking department.”

You sighed, putting your drink on the table. “Too bad the scene is over, I get to head on back to my boring old life in data entry.” You said it with a smile but Jared could tell it was strained and he frowned slightly.

“Bob told me that you turned him down for some lines in the episode.”

Your face flushed with embarrassment, and he reached over to take your hand which lay on the table next to your drink. Your heart skipped a beat at the gesture but you tried not to let it show.

“You know why I did Jared,” you told him quietly. “He wouldn’t have wanted me talking if he knew how I sounded.”

“Did you ask him? He didn’t even seem to know you were deaf,” Jared replied, tilting his head curiously.

“I don’t generally tell anyone. I keep to myself, I read my books and wear my headphones to keep people from talking to me. I’ve been deaf my whole life but even after all this time it still hurts when people walk away or don’t give me roles once they realise I can’t hear. It’s just better not to get my hopes up.”

You turned away as your eyes began to mist, not unnoticed by Jared. He gave you a moment, gently rubbing his thumb over your knuckles as a show of comfort while you composed yourself. You cleared your throat once you had, and took a drink to calm your nerves.

“Sorry, I don’t normally talk about this stuff with anyone,” you apologised. When you didn’t raise your head he did it for you, gently lifting your face to look at his so he could speak.

“But you do have someone to talk to about it, right?” he furrowed his brow in concern. You shrugged with a frown.

“Sure, I have deaf friends and my family gets it obviously. It’s hard in this industry though, no-one really understands why I want to act and it’s pretty hard to get roles that cater to me, you know?”

Jared nodded knowing all too well that desire, that drive, to be performing on stage or in front of a camera. He didn’t know what he’d do if he wasn’t given the chances he’d had, and he was grateful to be one of the lucky ones.

“You know, I’ve been in this industry for a long time,” he told you with a smile. “I bet if I made some calls I could-”

“No Jare,” you interjected. “It’s ok, I should figure it out for myself. It’s really sweet of you to offer though,” you added with a grin, giving his hand a small squeeze.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jared: Don’t hate me

The sms lit up your screen as you sat at your computer screen, typing away. It was your first day back at work and you were struggling to readjust to the monotony of the office, as you always did after a shoot. You smirked as you leaned back in your chair and picked up your phone.

Y/N: Uh oh

Jared: I MAY have spoken to Bob

You raised a curious eyebrow as you took a sip of your hot chocolate.

Y/N: About what?

Jared: About having you on the show

You gasped, sending your drink down the wrong pipe causing a coughing fit. You sensed the eyes of your coworkers watching you and you raised a hand to assure them you were fine, before swapping to a water to try and calm your spasming throat.

Y/N: I legit just choked on my drink, I thought that only happened in the movies

Jared: Please don’t be mad

You smiled at your screen, imaging Jared cowering in the corner of his trailer while he wrote this. The very idea of you being cross with him for wanting to help you was laughable.

Y/N: So what did he say?

Jared: He wants to meet with you. He has an idea of how to write you into the show :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“A deaf hunter?” you exclaimed with surprise, not too loudly you hoped.

Sitting in Bob’s office, he was giving you the rundown of the concept he had brewing for you. He seemed very excited by the character, the concept was of course unusual and would have its own unique challenges.

“Her name is Eileen. She’s a great fighter and she’s feisty as hell. We’d want you for 4 episodes to start with, and we’d be interested in seeing how the fans react to the character before discussing a future beyond that. We’d ensure everyone understands your particular needs, and if you wanted we’d be more than happy to hire a translator and assistant for you. So, what do you think?”

You could barely wipe the smile off your face as you processed what he had said.

“Oh, and there’s one more thing. We’d like to explore the possibility of her being a love interest for Sam, depending on your on-screen chemistry of course. How would you feel about that?”

You couldn’t help a laugh escape, and nodded quickly.

“Yes, yes to all of this. It sounds amazing. Are you sure you’re ok with my voice though?”

Bob raised a hand to stop you. “Jared said you were nervous about that but I promise you, we wouldn’t be having this conversation if I had any doubts about you pulling this off.”

You grinned in response. “Thank you. I won’t let you down I promise.”

Bob smiled too and outreached his hand which you shook vigorously. With a jump in your step you opened his door and stepped out, only to slam straight into Jared’s chest. He placed his hands on your arms and gripped tightly so as not to let you fall, and you looked up to see his smiling face shining back at you.

“Tell me you took it,” he begged, and when you nodded with a laugh he lifted you in the air and spun you so quick he made you dizzy. Before you had a chance to realise what was happening his lips met yours, and your eyes widen in surprise. He felt you stiffen and pulled back, looking at you concerned as he put you back down on the ground.

“I’m so sorry Y/N, I didn’t mean t-”

Before he could finish you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him to you roughly, planting your lips on his once again. He smiled and slipped his arm behind your back, pulling you closer. After a moment Jared pulled away and seemed to be distracted by something behind you, so without untangling your limbs you too turned to see what was wrong.

“Something tells me we’ll have no problem with on-screen chemistry,” Bob told you both with a smirk and a wink, before walking off in the other direction. You felt Jared’s body shake with laughter before turning back to see the grin plastered on his face. Joining in, you quickly realised this was the beginning of a new and amazing chapter in your life.

“Everything” Taglist: @angelsandwinchesters, @grace-for-sale, @growningupgeek, @iamnotsaneatall, @nanie5, @waywardasfudge, @ronja-uebrick, @im-dead-inside05

[mrtroy]

On Second Thought – 4 / 2 / 19

It’s the second of the month, and as I vowed to do this year, on the second of each month, I am writing whatever has come to mind – no matter how odd, random, or off the wall that might be. It’s my way of advocating for normalcy around not needing to feel, say and act ‘normal’ all the time.

Ironically, I missed the last installment of this series on 3 / 2 / 19. I was traveling, and even though airports are a boon for random observations, I never found the time to catch up.

Never fear, sports fans, tonight’s installment is sure to make up for last month’s absence.

Today, we’ve got thoughts on ducks, geese, parking, traffic and an extended section on apple sauce.

Get comfy.

I need to start this post by pointing out that ducks are cool.

I do a lot of walking along a river that has a lot of ducks and a lot of geese, and ducks are way cooler. I think a lot of it has to do with them just being nicer. But, also, the way they stick their heads in the water, and their butts go up in the air. Way cool. Not to mention, they just look cooler than geese. And they have orange feet.

I was watching the college basketball tournament a little bit last week, and I could not get over how much I wanted Oregon to win just because their mascot is a duck, and I love ducks so much.

And then I got to wondering why more sports team mascots aren’t ducks. There are scores of wildcats, tigers and eagles, but very few ducks.

Normally, I’m all for the weirder the better when it comes to mascots. Banana Slugs, Anteaters, Fighting Blue Hens (Go Delaware), and it does make you wonder why there are so few ducks as compared to wildcats, tigers and eagles?

Did schools really only name their sports teams after animals that were thought to be fierce because they thought it would intimidate their opponents more if they were playing a wildcat or a tiger?

And by contrast, a duck would be easily defeated?

Perhaps.

Either way, thank you to the good folks in Eugene for going with the Ducks. Ducks are awesome.

And, Geese are not awesome. I suppose I can understand why no one would want to play for the Galesburg Geese… Pff.

I walk by geese as often as I walk by ducks, and the geese just hiss at you, they open their beaks and look all mean at you – it’s just like, c’mon man, you’re not exactly winning friends and influencing people here…

The only good thing that has come out of the last 25 years of goose cognizance, is but a relative positive. After avoiding minefields full of goose droppings for years, I recently realized I’d never actually seen a goose defecate.

Well, check that one off the bucket list.

The other day, while crossing a sidewalk in front of me, one of my hissing nemesis plopped out a steaming pile of green feces. Gross, of course, but after years of never actually catching one in the act, it was sheepishly exhilarating, I have to admit.

--

In the outline I wrote for this post, I briefly considered talking about apple sauce next, but then reconsidered, figuring that apple sauce right after goose droppings may not be a good idea…

So, let’s talk about traffic, why don’t we?

I live along a section of street that is relatively short between two stoplights. In the middle, is a crosswalk with a pedestrian yield sign where cars often stop. When I get home from work in the evening, there is usually a good amount of traffic backed up on the street. It makes for a joyous few minutes of watching society be weird.

When I look out my window to the north, I often see traffic turning off of a busy street heading eastward past my place. Traffic backs up turning off the street, and cars jam to within inches of each other to be able to turn and be out of the way of the main thoroughfare. It’s quite common to see three extra cars trying to jam really close to each other so they can turn.

Yet, a half a block ahead, near the pedestrian crossing, cars – the same ones that were just jamming in to turn onto the very street – space out to the point where there is usually 3-5 feet between vehicles.

Every. Single. Time.

It’s like, what happened people? A half a block ago you were all bunched up, and now you’re just asleep or something?

Anyway, traffic is fun. Take the train if you can, it’s much less stress.

My vantage point looking down on a city street also allows me to watch parallel parking, parking space dispersion, and many other really exciting things. I may have to save this one for another month in order to be able to rant on it fully, but it certainly makes for good viewing when I’m just getting home from work and looking out the window as I eat my evening pre-dinner snack…

Which brings me to apple sauce.

Man, apple sauce is so good.

It’s so versatile. Great for lunch with a sandwich. Great for dinner as a sweet little garnish or meat topper. And, surprisingly refreshing for breakfast.

I feel like apple sauce for breakfast is underrated, but I’m a big advocate. It’s just the right amount of sweet, but if you get the unsweetened kind – as if there was any other real choice – it’s not overly sweet. It’s light on the stomach. It’s got a pudding-like ratio of flavor to chewing effort, where you don’t have to chew nearly at all, and you still get a bevy of flavor. (Pudding may still be at the top of this list, but again, another post for another month…)

I also realized this week while at the grocery store that there are like 200 different varieties of apple sauce. To some, this may seem overwhelming, but to me, this was like a new frontier to discover.

Sweet. Unsweet. Chunky. Cinnamon….

Now they have so many new flavors – and even colors – I apparently have not been keeping up with the apple sauce innovation curve the last few years. I saw bright green apple sauce, orange, reddish…

While doing research for this post, I even ate one of these newfangled concoctions. I ate organic strawberry apple sauce out of a pouch that has a built-in straw. 3.2 ounces of interesting, let me tell ya.

Obviously, I don’t have kids. I see toddlers eating out of such contraptions all the time, but this was a first for me.

I immediately became obsessed with trying to extract every possible morsel out of the pouch – which was kind of fun. So, that was nice…

Have you ever made apple sauce?

When I was little, my family used to go apple picking all the time, and then my mom and my aunt would spend a long time peeling, coring and slicing apples to make into the sweet nectar. The apple peeler / corer / slicer is easily one of my favorite inventions…

I love how certain apples are better for apple sauce, and some are better for eating, and some are better for baking. It’s pretty cool when you learn that one apple is mealier, and thus is better for baking, and some are crunchier and better for snacking.

I only have one disappointment with apple sauce, and this comes from the fact that my favorite apple – the Granny Smith – is not a good apple sauce apple, in my opinion.

I recently spotted Granny Smith apple sauce at the store. I was immediately delighted. I had a coupon that gave me 50 cents off any variety of Mott’s apple sauce (thank you grocery story Monopoly) and as my luck would have it, Mott’s is one of the brands that makes its sauce in Granny’s variety. This was shaping up to be a dream combo. Unsweetened. Granny Smith. And a coupon!

Sheesh.

Except, after racing home and opening up the conventional container of the sauce, I was crestfallen to find out that Granny Smith apple sauce is not good. How could this be? It smelled amazing, but the flavor was so underwhelming… It was just kind of bland. Completely lacking the tartness that a good Granny Smith packs into each bite…

Uggles, man. Uggles.

Alas, some things just don’t live up to the hype you

--

Last little bit tonight is on favorite colors.

I am on an all-time high enjoying my favorite color, thanks to my friends at Apple.

I never used to understand people’s obsession for buying things in their favorite color. I mean, it makes sense, but I was always kind of the ilk that favorite colors were for six year olds, and after that, it kind of didn’t really matter much.

Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that my favorite color is yellow, and lots of things that come in yellow colors don’t look great.

Tape measures can be yellow, but they aren’t really noted for being super stylish… Bananas are yellow – and while the yellow ones are far better than the green or brown varieties – it’s not like people eat more bananas because they are yellow…

I’m not much of an accessorizer, so yellow purses, umbrellas, coffee mugs or ornamental belts aren’t really my thing either.

I’ve never had the urge to get a yellow computer case, or even a yellow shower curtain…

Yellow has always been my favorite color, but it’s always been under-represented in my repertoire of assorted belongings.

However, all of that recently changed.

I got a new phone, and for the first time ever, Apple was offering this really cool yellow color.

Without giving it much thought, when the sales person at the store asked what color I wanted, I almost just defaulted to grey. I saw a red and a blue and a white. But they didn’t do much for me.

And then, I saw this rich mustardy yellow colored one.

Whoa. A yellow phone!

I decided to go with that one, figuring, I like yellow, let’s do this.

I can’t tell you how much joy I have gotten out of having a yellow phone these last few weeks. I keep looking at it and thinking how much I love it. It’s hard to describe, but man, it’s so fun.

--

On that note, thanks for reading.

Have a good month.

Eat plenty of apple sauce. Smile at the ducks. Avoid the geese. And enjoy your favorite color.

[hopeymchope]

Kazuichi x Mahiru for the ship meme? Or Mahiru x Mikan?

That sounds like a double-request to me! But since one party is the same in both, please expect some overlap. :)

Kazuichi x Mahiru

who’s the cuddler: Kazuichi. Years of childhood insecurity have led him to want/need more physical affection and reassurance.

who wakes up first: It depends on the day and on what’s driving them, but most days it’s Koizumi who rises first. Soda’s work is more physically exhausting than hers, so he’s more likely to need the extra time.

who makes the bed: Mahiru. Kazuichi is kind of a slob.

who has the weird taste in music: Kazuichi likes emo-rock, Mahiru is more into indie and alt-rock in addition to standard pop… I’d say Kazuichi is slightly weirder maybe but neither is all that odd.

who is more protective: Kazuichi tries but soon cowers. It’s Mahiru who stands bravely in the face of threats to her guy.

who sings in the shower: Kazuichi, but he’s super embarrassed if Mahiru hears him. :( She doesn’t mock him, though. She thinks his lack of singing talent is pretty adorable.

who cries during movies: Koizumi is certainly capable of tears, but we know what an emotional wreck Soda is. Of course he’ll cry first and hardest.

who spends the most while out shopping:  Soda. Koizumi has everything she needs to pursue her daily work in the form of a camera, a micro-SD card and flash drive. Kazuichi, on the other hand… KS: “Uh, heeeey… Mahi?”MK: “Yeah?”KS: “I’m gonna run to the store. Do y’need anything?”MK: *intensely skeptical* “…I just got groceries yesterday. So no. What do you need?”KS: *immediately sweating* “Oh, I just - haHA!” *clears throat* “I’m working on that wireless robot I told you about! Th-the one you can control-”MK *sigh* “Just say it.”KS: *tiny voice* “Palladium?”

who kisses more roughly: Kazuichi, because he’s nervous about it for quite a bit at first and it just diving in, and even once he hits a good comfort level, he’s still got those really pointy teeth.

who is more dominant: Mahiru, naturally. She’s giving all the orders on what she wants and how… and where. ;)

my rating of the ship from 1-10: I lowkey hate to give yet another ship that ‘vaguely affirmative’ rating of 5-6, but this is another 6 for me.

Mahiru x Mikan

who’s the cuddler: Mikan. We’ve seen how much she likes to climb into bed and cuddle - even semi-subconsciously. ;)

who wakes up first: Mikan. She’s a nervous sleeper and always anxious to start checking in on her patients.

who makes the bed: Mikan. They dont call ‘em “hospital corners” for nothing; this is a skill that comes inherent to her nursing experience, and she likes to use it to take care of Mahiru.

who has the weird taste in music: Mikan’s interest in “music therapy” has led her to explore and enjoy some… weird stuff that doesn’t always sound very “musical.”

who is more protective: Mahiru, naturally. Mikan’s had a hard life and is easily rattled; Mahiru is there to protect her.

who sings in the shower: Hmmm, I don’t think either one does?

who cries during movies: Koizumi is capable of a few tears, but it’s Tsumiki who sobs the most.She gets REALLY emotionally invested in fiction.

who spends the most while out shopping: Mikan is always working to be prepared for any medical emergency, so she has to tendency to buy more medications than she really needs to have on-hand.

who kisses more roughly: Oh come on,these two are going to be so tender and sweet together that it’s hard to gauge this. I guess maybe Mikan? I mean, she does seem to lowkey enjoy being in bondage… so maybe she’s got a rougher side… ?

who is more dominant: Mahiru, of course. Mikan wants to be bound up and Mahiru wants to give orders, so it just works.

my rating of the ship from 1-10: I’ve never really thought about/heard of this one until now, so I’m still somewhat processing the idea. It seems like a good match until I consider that Mahiru is pretty cozy with Mikan’s worst bully? But I like to think that Mahiru is going to try and teach Hiyoko to be a better person. This could match my previous 6, but I think for now I’d bump it down a little to a 5. Yeah, another middle-of-the-road rating.

[secretradiobrooklyn]

SECRET RADIO | 11.14.20

Secret Radio | 11.14.20 | Hear it here.

Artwork by Paige, liner notes by Evan except * for Paige

1. The Wizard of Oz - “Ding Dong” Suite

We were looking for a proper song to get this party started, and damned if it didn’t involve a bunch of delighted munchkins! As much as our hopes for the coming years are muted, the relief at not having to contend with a headlong dictator enjoying full-on democratic support just cannot be overstated. DING DONG Y’ALL!

2. David Bowie - “Look Back in Anger”

I’ve been practicing drums a ton during the pandemic, and I just realized that I’m going to have to spend some time trying to get at this pattern. It’s some of my favorite drumming ever, from one of my top 20 albums ever. In fact, this comes from a very special edition of Lodger, via Brian McClelland, wherein Tony Visconti took the original tapes and completely remixed the album as he always felt it should have been mixed if they weren’t be rushed. To someone who has listened to that record many many times, it sounds like I’ve been next door the album all this time, and I’m finally allowed into the room where it’s playing. So clear and focused and modern!

3. Frank Alamo - “Ma Biche”

A “biche” is a doe, we believe. “It’s something about ‘pretty eyes,’” Paige says, “which would make sense.” Further research, though, reveals that the song is about how much he likes her pretty dark eyeliner. I know the feeling!

4. (Not) Rom JongVak - “Monkey”

Well, this has been a learning process. There’s this great song that I thought was called “Twist (Dance Twist)” by Rom Jong Vak, that we played like a month ago — and then tonight I thought I was playing “Monkey,” by Rom JongVak. Buuut, as I look further, I’m learning that the first song was “Rom Jong Vak Twist,” by Pan Ron… And the song here is I guess called “Rom Jong Vak Monkey,” and I have no idea who it’s by! All of the text on the page is in just boxes where Cambodian text would go, so it’s bound to remain lost. Whoever it is, I sure do enjoy that first aggressive drum fill and the whole weird texture of this recording.

5. Luiz Visconde - “Chofer de Praça”

Paige: “The first times that I listened to this Angolan collection, I really just listened to Os Kiezos, because they did “Muxima.” But then I eventually spread out and found this song. It’s from Angola, between ’65 and ’75.”

6. The Velvet Underground - “European Son”

P: We would go to the Beechwood a little bar around the corner from us in Wicker Park, down the street off Milwaukee Avenue. They had a real jukebox, not a TuneBlast or whatever. It was just a great little dive. They had this record in the jukebox, and we would always put on this song. I suppose that could have been read as an aggressive thing to do, but we’d put on other songs too! It was a good way to stretch your quarters, and it loosens the bar up. And I figured, if they didn’t like this song they wouldn’t put it in the jukebox.

     Once when we were there on a busy weekend night, something was wrong with the jukebox. It was broken. And the bartender opened it up and put like a hundred bucks on it and said, “Everybody play whatever you want, three songs each. It was awesome. Everybody did take turns too, three songs each, all around the bar. It was a really cool night.

7. Fred Astaire - “No Strings (I’m Fancy Free)”

What a lovely piano intro! This song is from the 1935 film “Top Hat.” It’s one of those movies where the clever protagonist pursues a girl he has a crush on — or terrorizes a stranger until she submits to his will, depending on whose perspective you take. There are a lot of those — “An American in Paris” is another — and they’re fascinating to watch just by flipping that switch back and forth in your own head. Meanwhile, both movies are chock full of beautiful shots, fabulous scenes, gorgeous songs, and glowing stars. 

     Something about the quality of this recording — a new master or something? — makes it sound like it was JUST recorded. It feels so alive and contemporary, with a lovely little vibrophone solo in the middle. I just 

Martial Solal, “Breathless” soundtrack - “L’amour, la mort”

Note: I remember this story in the reverse, where the truckers announced this gleefully to each other as they marched merrily OUT the door and into the late afternoon, headed towards… what? Whatever it is, I hope they found it and everyone had a great time.

8. Johnny Hallyday - “Nous quand on s’embrasse”

Have you seen “The Wild One”? Can’t you see how much trouble could have been avoided if those leathered-up motorcycle dudes were able to rock out to songs like this one instead of trying to jazz their way forward? They should have been twisting the night away! Alas, instead they had to tear up bars and beat people up to get their kicks. Tough break, kid.

9. Lokassa Ya M’bongo - “Bonne année”

I found this while searching for something else, but it was labeled “l’Instant Vinyl” in the same format as our Assa-Cica record, so had to check it out. M’bongo is a Congolese guitarist — a rhythm guitarist specifically, which doesn’t normally get the love that lead guitar gets in this soukous form. Lokassa Ya M’bongo means “Lokassa the money man,” and he became a session man in demand. He was a big part of the “Congolo-Paris sound,” a phrase I just read that I’m going to have to look more into.

    Bonne année indeed! Still feeling that relief about hopefully getting out from under the thumb of that giant dummy.

10. Velly Joonas - “Stopp, Seisku Aeg!”

The image of Velly Joonas is pretty heart-stopping: she’s absolutely beautiful, in giant glasses and a striped shirt. The song is so confident and strange in its instrumentation, with keys, organ, fiddle, and a super-tight bass/drum combo. I feel like this could have been a big US underground hit in the ‘90s.

11. Eko Roosevelt - “Kilimandjaro”

Such a sincere song! Eko Roosevelt is kind of hit and miss with me, but when they hit, they get completely stuck in my head! The horn parts on “Me To a De Try My Own” do that to me, and so does the eternal chorus of this song. I love the notes in the bridge as they drop further and further down the scale like they’re descending from the mountaintop. And when he gets to the declarations of love at the end — “I love you, my home! I really do, I really do!” — that’s it, that’s the best.

12. Tonetta - “Yummy Yummy Pizza”

I warn you: look up this video (after you listen to the “broadcast” of course) at your own peril. Not because it’s terrible, but because it is fascinating, and it is just one of SO many. They tease you with tiny shreds of information about this Tonetta person, but never enough that you can get a sense of what the hell is going on with… him? Them? Maybe ask Matt and Brian from Tok about it — they got obsessed enough to record an EP of Tonetta songs, which is how I heard about this all in the first place.

13. Prewar Yardsale - “AU Base”

Paige: I was loading a five-disc changer at Jeffrey’s and something about the cover, the name sounded interesting. I put it on and it’s pretty freakin rad. It stood up to my blind listen expectations. I think this is produced by our friend Matt Mason. 

14. Eugenius - “Mary Queen of Scots”

Matt Mason and Jeffrey Lewis make me think of Schwervon!, which makes me think of the Vaselines who they toured with several times, and that brings me to Eugenius, headed by Eugene Kelly. This was a mainstay in Sean’s room when we all lived together, singing the harmonies and air-drumming along. It remains as satisfying as ever, I’m happy to say.

15. Wednesday Campanella - “Aladdin”

This song is sung in Japanese, not that you’d know from context clues. Tim Gebauer introduced us to this strange Japanese shapeshifter. It was hard to tell if I liked her music or was just amazed by her videos (which you should totally check out). Now I believe it’s safe to say we dig this song. I like how many elements of ‘70s international disco it has, while still sounding super modern. What is weirder to me is that I cannot tell if I would like this song if it was sung in English.

Breathless soundtrack

16. Letti Mbulu - “Mahlalela”

Originally South African, Mbulu managed to escape to the US in 1965 and had a hell of a career. She worked with Cannonball Adderley, Hugh Masakela, Harry Belafonte and Michael Jackson. Quincy Jones said this amazing thing about her: “Mbulu is the roots lady, projecting a sophistication and warmth which stirs hope for attaining pure love, beauty, and unity in the world.” Um, that’s really impressive.

17. Christophe - “Aline”

*Really dig this song, partially I think because it’s in a decent range for me to sing along. I love his desperate delivery and tone of voice. We just learned tonight that Christophe passed away this year at 74 after complications with COVID-19. 

18. Zap Mama - “Brrlak!”

Credit to my dad, Larry Sult, for bringing Zap Mama to our attention. He’s been heavily into marimba music, and played in a marimba band in Bellingham for many years; in fact, he spent many years making the instruments for the band in his woodshop in the basement of their home. Zap Mama is adjacent to that music, though certainly very different. This band comes from all over the world. The main gal was born in &&&&& but found herself in a Pygmy society for awhile, which seems to be where she developed some of those low-high yodels. We saw some footage of her playing, and she did this awesome thing where she held empty airplane bottles just below her lips as she sang, creating a resonance that you can hear here. I love that this whole composition is a cappella.

19. The Buzzards - “High Society”

Years ago, I was whiling away my time in Seattle and stopped into Orpheum Records, right there at the corner where Broadway turns into 10th Ave E. After a half hour of flipping through records I had to know what all the killer albums were that had been playing overhead. Turns out they were all from “The Sympathetic Sounds of Detroit,” a collection of Detroit bands put out by Sympathy for the Record Industry. It was recorded by Jack White and Jim Diamond and it’s full of topshelf tracks, but after all the years, this is the one that we turn out to actually enjoy, and quote, the most. 

    As far as I could tell, there isn’t a version of this song anywhere online, which I personally find disGRACEful!

20. Sleepy Kitty - “Buzzards & Dreadful Crows”

My favorite part of this recording is that I got to sing a couple of guitar parts that I reflexively sing along to on the original.

*This was from a 20th anniversary of “Bee Thousand” tribute show, and we made this recording with Jason Hutto at this studio off Cherokee Street and we recorded a couple others that we did that night. A small run of screenprinted downloads were made. 

Teddy Afro, “Mar Eske Tuwa” credit music

21. Ata Kak - “Moma Yendodo”

Some corrections to what I said in the broadcast: Ata Kak is indeed Ghanian, but I think he might have recorded this in Germany. His is a fascinating little story of determination. This recording comes from a tape that he made about 50 copies of total. It was found by Brian from Awesome Tapes From Africa at a roadside stand in Ghana. He loved it so much that he spent years trying to track Ata Kak down. When he finally did, they found that the original master tapes were all ruined, and Brian’s copy was the only one that they could make a new version from! So that’s what you’re hearing here. 

22. Spoon - “30 Gallon Tank”

Early Spoon is some of my favorite music ever. This is from “A Series of Sneaks,” an album that changed my life pretty much as soon as I heard it. Harvey Danger stopped at a lot of record stores on tour, and at one of them I managed to stumble upon both “A Series of Sneaks” and (I think) Guv’ner’s “Spectral Worship” — what a day! I put this album on in headphones in the van and just listened over and over and over again. Eventually, when our manager announced that we should spend a few weeks between radio festivals headlining a tour with a couple of support acts and asked if we had any ideas, I had a list with Spoon on top and Creeper Lagoon right below that. The tour that resulted was rough for Spoon — they’d just been dropped by their label and were having an understandably rough time — but a fucking thrill for me, because I got to see one of my favorite bands each night. That still stands as one of the absolute highlights of my time in Harvey Danger. Jim Eno is one of the top drummers in my pantheon because he’s such a great composer for the song, and Britt Daniels plays guitar the way I truly wish I did — which he did at the time all on distorted acoustic guitar! 

23. Patrick Coutin - “Fais-moi jouir”

*I meant to put on a different Patrick Coutin song but put this one on by accident and I was like, this is cool, and then I was like “I think he’s saying. . .I think this is pretty. . . explicit. Like Serge and Jane cranked.” As far as I can tell, it definitely is. They don’t teach you these words on Duolingo though. Ha! 

24. Dur Dur Band - “Yabaal”

I mean no disrespect to Dur Dur Band when I say that we didn’t dig the first several songs we heard by them, but this song is undeniable. The groove just digs in and doesn’t stop for anything.

25. Mel Brooks - “High Anxiety”

We’re stepping out on a mixed emotional note, but: we’re not out of the woods yet. I hope we can get through the next couple of months as a nation peacefully and productively, but Paige and I are both in a state of high anxiety about what still seems to be happening daily. Stay safe!

*yet staying optimistic! ’Cause we gotta. À plus tard!