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retvenkos · 3 years

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“would it be terribly cheesy if i said ‘it was always you’?”

requested by @biqherosix STRAP IN, FOLKS, BECAUSE TODAY WE ARE TAKING A LOOK AT WHAT IT WOULD BE LIKE FOR EJ CASWELL TO HAVE A CRUSH ON A NORTH HIGH STUDENT...

so first of all, you and ej knew each other long before you ran into each other in high school. because, you see, you went to junior high together, and in those days, both you and ej were on dance company

(you can pry dance company! ej from my cold, dead fingers)

you were arguably the better dancer, and seventh grade ej really wanted to prove himself. a baby competition sprouted between the two of you, but it was nothing big.

you both liked to show off in order to taunt the other, and you both got a kick out of trying to one up each other.

but at the same time, you were teammates. you did everything together.

so the bond between you and ej was strong. it was a competition, yes, but it was friendly competition and you both actually hyped each other a lot.

plus, dance company does a lot of things as a group, so it was unavoidable. you were going to end up liking each other at some point. luckily, it happened sooner rather than later, and the two of you built up a nice rapport with one another - a closeness forged in friendly competition and last minute studying parties.

but all that changed when you went to north high and ej went to east high

now, since north high is completely fictional, i get to create the dynamic between the schools, so listen up everyone!

north high clearly has the better arts department, and they also have the better tennis and softball team.

east high has the better stem department as well as a better swim team and any other swim related sports.

west high has the better sport teams overall - basketball, football, volleyball, etc.

(that's why we never see any uber jocks at east high—)

now, clearly you have your boundary school, but people get on special permit all the time, and when you say you’re going to north high ej is like ???? but why ???

“they have a better arts department, ej, you know that!”

“well, yeah, but east high is the best. we always said we were going to be wildcats!”

“ej.... they’re actually leopards.”

it wasn’t a super emotional goodbye. you promised to stay in touch, and it wasn’t like it was hard. you still saw each other around the mall, you still followed each other on instagram and what not but.... time just got between you.

you slowly stop texting, you see each other less, when you see each other in public you do that thing where you give a smile but then don’t go over to say hi, because you’re wrapped up in other people. it’s not pointed things, you just... stop talking.

and you still like each others photos on instagram but you’re just... there.

all of that changes, however, when carlos asks you to help him choreograph hsm.

at the time, the rivalry between schools wasn’t big, it was just a low simmer, and the reason carlos approached you was because once upon a time, you, ej, and him had all been in dance company together for one (1) year (it all comes full cIRCLE) and for one of your performances, you had done something hsm related.

carlos wanted to know if you remembered the routine and could help him come up with something slightly more advanced.

and while you and carlos hadn’t really kept up with one another, he jokingly brought up a time where he did something for you, and how you always said you’d pay him back one day and maybe now it was time to cash it in??

you decided why not? you’ve done a lot of stuff for north high’s dance company, but you’ve never helped out in a musical before (and as you can imagine, north high is very competitive in their arts)

so you joined the hsm cast as co-choreographer.

now, because you had your own north high dance company stuff to deal with, you end up missing a lot of rehearsals. you mostly brainstorm with carlos and add tweaks to the choreo. carlos is the one to really ~teach~ things.

which means that while you are present for ~the drama~ that was ej-nini-ricky, you actually miss a lot of it. you feel the tension, but exactly why it’s Like That is beyond you.

you tried to ask carlos once but he said he wasn’t going to get into that, thank you.

and honestly, you have competitions to keep up with, so you’re not fixated on it. you’re just hoping that they’re not still pissed at each other on opening night, when ej has to strap ricky in for “getcha head in the game”

and while you’ve chatted with ej a couple of times, you haven’t had much time to catch up.

you actually bond a lot with gina, who is on the same level as you in terms of dance. you end up talking and mention how ej was once on dance company, and that rocks her world because ej???

and that’s when you show her all of the old videos you archived on your instagram from your junior high days. carlos, ej, and you all in dance company. they’re precious.

and when ej’s friendships are strained and he doesn’t have anyone to turn to, he sees you and gina laughing and crowding over your phone, and he comes to say hi.

and thus, the friendship begins again.

it is, of course, slow going because so much time has come between you, and gina and carlos (the two you hang with the most) are not on great terms with ej, but you guys grow really close all over again. ej is glad to have another senior to talk to about college, and you’re glad you have an old friend to talk to because it’s easy to feel out of place in this school that isn’t yours.

and on opening night, you know ej gifts you something - maybe it’s a jacket or beanie with the wildcats emblem on it.

“it’s kinda stupid, but we always said we were going to be wildcats together, and we did it.”

“huh, i guess we did.”

and for some reason, you chest is really warm, and you can feel the heat sneak up to your cheeks.

“this is really sweet, ej.”

“well, you know me.”

“yeah, i guess i do.”

and then it’s his cue to get ready to go on stage.

“oh! and there should be another surprise coming, don’t hate me for not telling you!”

and you’re ??? but it turns out to be gina.

you all clearly go to denny's afterward to celebrate, and if ej feels his heart seize in his chest everytime you laugh or steal one of gina’s fries, it’s not an unfamiliar feeling. because really, it had always been like that, with you. you never cease to amaze him.

and once you’re on the east high theatre group chat, you never get taken off of it, so you know everything that’s going on with your theatre buddies, after hsm has finished.

and this is where a conflict of interest really comes in...

because, you see, once hsm is a hit, some of the theatre kids at north high think you’re a traitor. you gave east high their secrets, and now east high is an actual contender. uncool, (y/n).

so you kind of get iced out by a lot of north high kids. like i said. competition there is s t e e p and you’ve been accused of fraternizing with the enemy..

but when zach roy shows up and he hears about the drama surrounding one (y/n) (l/n), he gets an idea... so he approaches you one day after dance company practice...

“he asked you to do wHAT?”

you’re texting ej, carlos, and gina in a group chat

“he asked me to co-choreograph their show.”

“are you going to do it?” - carlos

“of course they are! do you think opportunities like this just fall out of the sky?” - gina

“i don’t know, though, i feel like he’s working some angle with me. there’s something about him that doesn’t feel genuine.”

“it’s those piercing blue eyes.” - carlos

“i have piercing blue eyes!”

“and you’ve never done anything underhanded?” - gina

“we did that together!”

“what should i do?”

“accept, clearly!” - gina

“i’d be careful, if i were you. miss jenn doesn’t trust him for a reason.” - carlos

“it’s up to you, (y/n). you’ll do great, and it’s a great opportunity.”

“but?”

and everyone can feel the pause - the conflict where ej doesn’t know what to say.

“but nothing! this is a HUGE opportunity! he’s dancer extraordinaire derek hough zach roy! i’d be the villain of your eventual documentary if i were to try to hold you back.”

“okay... i think i’ll do it. you know how competitive things are, here. this could really give me a boost.”

“hell yeah, (y/n)!” - gina

“spy on their production for us?” - carlos

“anything for you <3″

i imagine you clash a lot with lily, but you actually become really good friends with howie and antoine. but that’s beside the point.

and while things are on good terms at first, your bond with your wildcats stays strong, and you’re carving out a place in north high rehearsals, lily is quick to find out that you’re on the east high group chat.

and because this is hsmtmts, i get to have some fun with this premise.

lily gets some kind of tech nerd on her side, and she gets him to make it so that somehow, the text that you get from the theatre group also send to her phone, for maximum stalking of the competition. that’s how she always gets one step ahead of east high.

and as north high seemingly continues to have insider info on east high, someone suspects there’s a leak.... which leads to you. who else has access to north high? so they send a fake text and wait to see if north high takes the bait.

they do. so now east high thinks it’s you.

but at this same time, you keep noticing that suspiciously, whenever you get a text from east high theatre department, lily’s phone goes off to. literally at the same moment, you’re doing your own test to see if somehow she hacked your phone.

(you had your suspicions because lily is actually terribly bad at hiding her hand and constantly makes remarks that make you Think™.)

you confirm lily to have hacked your phone, and so you go old school and show up to east high, hoping to tell them what happened and find some fix (since east high is the mother of all tech schools in this universe.)

but when you walk into the auditorium, the cast is being really passive aggressive toward you? and you’re so confused? what happened?

of course, ricky is the only to confront you because these days, it seems like he’s always one (1) moment away from blowing up.

and you explain that you were played just as much as they were - it was never your intention to betray them. east high is your family.

“oh, yeah? i’ve never known an east high leopard to go to north high.”

and so now we’re in shambles! we’re divided!

you leave, upset, and ej catches you in the hall. he tries to explain that ricky’s been on one, recently, that none of his anger was really meant for you, and that he believes you - truly. he knows you’re the last person to ever betray them. you’re not like that. that’s more him than it is you.

and you just give him the world’s biggest h u g .

now you’re probably wondering why i insisted on this particular plot line, but let me tell you - ej never really understood completely what a complete breach of trust it was for him to steak nini’s phone and violate her privacy like that. now he can see how deeply it affects you - how it can really ruin people in ways you never intend. it’s about the learning curve.

anyway, it takes you a while to build up trust with east high again, but you say “hey, why don’t you guys continue to send false leads to this group chat? make another for yourselves, and continue to spread misinformation to me.

ej is like... do you really want to sabotage your own show? but you tell him something along the lines of “our show is still going to have superior choreography, lily is just going to waste her time doing pointless side missions. it has nothing to do with the quality of my work.”

and ej loves this competitive and devious side of you so much. but he’s also deathly terrified of telling you how much he cares about you, because he always manages to screw things up.

and gina finds hilariously endearing because of all people to be self conscious... ej caswell? the ej caswell? she would be his hype woman if she wasn’t so busy finding this all too Good to be true.

eventually, lily will find out, but when she confronts you and threatens to tell the cast that you’re the reason they’re so behind in their production, you tell her that to do that, she’d have to confess to stealing your phone, hacking into it, and using it to spy on you which breaks like 23 different school rules. but sure! tell everyone! you’d love to see how the principal reacts when you film it and show it to them on monday.

(this is getting really long, let me see if i can wrap it up, quick)

clearly, ej is an Idiot when he’s in love, and even though he’s deathly afraid of telling you his feelings, that doesn’t stop him from expressing them.

both of you are in your respective musicals, and your rehearsal schedules align really nicely, so a lot of the time, ej will drive up to north high afterward so he can give you a ride home. (you don’t have a car, okay?) you guys always stop to get fast food or a drink at starbucks or something, and you have little “dates” where ej parks the car and the two of you eat in his car, just chatting about your day.

or on weekends, you and ej go and drive up to the state college that ej was admitted to, and you walk around campus, trying to envision him there. and if you’re also going to a school nearby, you do the same for you. (bonus points if you’re going to the same college, so you walk around and pick out the places where you’ll chill together.)

and if these little excursions of yours are the highlight of your week, and all you want to do is hold ej’s hand forever, singing in the car with the windows down and driving into the sunset... well, you just hope that ej wants the same.

and since ej is in av club, and he’s really trying to dig in and figure out what his story is, he’s always got a camera of some kind out, and some of his best work, he swears, are pictures and videos of you.

anyway, at some point, you confess to ej that you have a crush on him (howie probably pushed you to do it because he was tired of seeing you pine).

it’s a weekend and the two of you are procrastinating on your respective school assignments (study sessions being interrupted with senioritis? sounds about right) so instead you’re just sitting on the floor, staring at the ceiling, talking about whatever. and i think it just slips out, and when you realize what you’ve said, you’re vvv embarrassed, and you don’t even want to look at see how ej reacts, but he calls your name and you turn to him, a deadly mixture of dread and hope rooted in your stomach and shaking you to your core, but ej is smiling and in his eyes is something brighter than the sun, and when he tells you he’s feels the same, it’s like that dread in your stomach blooms into pure joy and when he tells you he’s had a crush on you since you were eighth graders and you were a better dancer than him, you can’t help but laugh until all of that warmth in your stomach has escaped into the air and hangs around the two of you like low hanging stars - so close, you can reach out and touch them.

anyway, cue lots of sneaking around north high - not because it’s a secret but because it’s fun hiding in the back of the auditorium and sneaking into the empty dance room.

cue cheering for each other at the menkies and congratulating each other when east high gets best musical, and north high gets best choreography (amongst others).

cue going to denny’s to celebrate and laughing until your sides hurt, stealing each other’s fries, and holding hands under the table.

(also... ej 100% would kiss your fingers when your hands are intertwined and that’s truly a blessing)

cue going to pool parties together for no other reason than i want all of the east high kids to do an impromptu rendition of “all for one” and ej gets to hit ricky with one of those blow up beach balls “for revenge” on the basketball moment in season 1.

plus, a pool party would do wonders for destressing, don’t lie.

AND FLUFF ENSUES.

taglist: @maybanksslut, @theletterhart, @brokenandheadoverheels, @neelia-thedaughtherof-athena @kitsdeadwife, @amortensie // add yourself to the taglist here!

#hsmtmts #high school musical: the musical: the series #high school musical the musical the series #ej caswell #ej caswell x reader #ej caswell x you #ej caswell headcanons #reader insert #ej caswell imagine #imagine #headcanons #would include #fluff #long post #you know it's a long post if i added a read more to headcanons and it's still long without the read more #anyway my agenda includes loving ej caswell wbu?

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bxllafanficc · 3 years

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¡Skate/sing your hearts out! (Yuri Plisetsky x reader)

(Part two)

Part two. Part one Part three Part four part five

Summary: After last year's cancellation of Figure Skating Grand Prix, Yuri Plisetsky finds himself unable to bring out his inner skater after a year of doing nothing but enjoy life like a regular teenager. That's when you enter the picture; We Are Voice Grand Awards's currently hottest competitive vocalist come first place two years in a row. Just like the other competitors of Grand Prix, it turns out that Victor and Yuuri faces the same issue. With an arrangement between Victor and Yakov, they agree to travel to Japan and hire you as a mutual coach for Yuri and Yuuri to help bring back the emotion into their performances like before, maybe even more intense than ever. Yuri however, who's never experienced issues with his coaches before, for some reason finds this one particularly difficult to coexist along with in their (reasonably) odd partnership. Warnings: none

*Your POV*

There. All set and done. You took a last look at the pair of eyes staring back at you in the full body mirror. Your hair all dried up with a blowdrier and a pair of white jeans along with your favorite leather jacket. A grey turtleneck on that and that was the outfit for today. Keeping it classy since Victor failed to cancel the meeting with the press a couple of hours from now. 'A big hoodie would've been the ideal alternative though' you thought and sighed. Nowadays it's all about keeping it as simple yet kind of professional for every day. Social media were all star struck about the world's latest announcement. 'Winner of this year's Grand Prix senior division goes on a tour with none other than the (y/n) (l/n)!' The newspapers were first out as usual thanks to the reporters crowding her personal space since two weeks from now since the news came out. A collaboration between a figure skating competition and a competition for vocalists. You never saw that coming but you could see the appeal. The currently hottest male skater along with a popular female singer, fighting for the spotlight even though they're sharing it evenly. Him with his skills and she with her voice. You agreed to participating when asked, of course. It was a great opportunity and experience. And currently you sought out every great possibility at the market right now. That's what lead you here.

You made your way out the room you were staying in and headed towards the dining area in deep thoughts. 'So that's Yuri Plisetsky up close?' You thought as you passed the living room. You entered the dining area and stood still at the entrance to take in the scene before you. Yuri Plisetsky is sitting at the dining table with his back facing you. Beside him with his side profile turned at your direction is coach Yakov who's chatting with Victor and Yuuri opposite of the table. Yuri is not talking. He's busy eating a dish called the pork cutlet bowl, you assumed. You had never tried one before but the dish was all too familiar thanks to the last Grand Prix competition on Yuuri Katsuki's behalf. You eyed Yuri carefully and entered the room. He's a little shorter than what was given away on television but other than that, very much the boy you'd seen competing time to time. His skating was without doubt impressive to say the least. His jumps were always perfect as expected and his upper body movements in beat to the music. Though, you always deemed something missing in his already amazing performances. Expression. The year he won gold at the senior division, you saw some great scenes of emotion displayed in his skating but it was clear that he never let them consume him. It always looked as if there was something on his mind and that held him back, even made him stop and hesitate sometimes.

"Whoo! (Y/n) is back! Yuri! Meet your coach in musical expressional performance."

The boy's attention was suddenly entirely on you now, in comparison for being totally relaxed and unfocused. He tensed up and the pair of breathtakingly blue and green eyes widened at her for the second time today. 'Hope this is not becoming a regular habit of his' whenever he sees me. It's starting to get a little embarrassing.'

"You! What even- What are you doing here?! A-aren't you like 19 years old or something? That's just two years away from me! That's.. You're far too young to be my coach!" The startled reaction of his kind of made you wonder what was up. He did meet you just about- ah. Your face mask and your covered hair clearly disguised you well enough for the boy not to recognize you. Though he clearly knew you.

"Great, so you're familiar with me. Then I don't need a further introduction." You flashed him a smile.

"Who isn't familiar with the star of We Are Voice and winner of gold two years in a row? At this point, you're basically stealing the spotlight I fought so hard to gain at my senior division debut." The words came out in a mutter and the negative impact of the comment made you raise an eyebrow at the boy on the floor in front of you. He still hadn't stood up to greet you which would be the appropriate thing to do first time meeting your coach. Then you pouted and leaned your now crossed arms against the wall to your right.

"Though, I am a little disappointed you didn't recognize me by voice. I mean, if I am as famous as you speak of, you surely would've known right away." That just earned a scoff from him.

"There are thousands of girls who sound similar to you. Yes, even with that (nationality) accent. Your voice isn't that special." The other men in the room widened their eyes. Ouch. And he's just as grumpy and homeboy teenage-crisis as he was portrayed in television and social media as well. You had thought it was only mere acting in an attempt to shun people away and making the attraction towards him less appealing.

"I see... Well that's one way putting it."

It certainly worked on you, you had thought for several years now but turns out he's just a jerk. Yakov moved to get in Yuri's face and scold him.

"Where is your manners? Quit playing a brat all of a sudden."

"What? Am I not allowed to speak my mind now when you have to suck up to miss universe over here all of a sudden?"

You raised a silent hand for the arguing pair to let their words die down and then you locked gaze with the insolent boy. Your eyes were blank but rock hard and you could swear that you saw a faint gulp forming in his throat.

"Get on your feet and get over here. Turn sideways." At least I didn't have to ask twice. But I didn't really ask him either. He rose to his feet and took some hesitant steps towards me. It was clear that he didn't trust me. 'Something to work on' I hummed to myself. His posture was stiff and crooked but after another word from Yakov, he straighten his back for me to see him properly. He pulled the hood of his hoodie off and mirrored my blank hard stare. I began to circle him, getting a fair look on what I would be working with for a set of weeks. His eyes didn't dare follow mine as I stepped beside him, knowing that I was out for him to break character. A stale being is much harder getting to know than a forward and open one.

Then, when you were behind his back, you reached out with your hand to his back and - shoved him casually forwards. A yelp of surprise echoed through the room as he stumbled and fell towards Victor who caught him right before hitting the floor face first. You and Yakov locked gaze and gave each other a slight nod before you once again turned to the upset boy.

"What the hell was that? You pushed me for what? Are you that sensitive for a little negativity for once?"

"Your balance is off." You simply said with the same blank expression and a headshake. He seemed dumbfounded of the answer and got off Victor with quick feet. He was close to you this time and the daggers you received was intended to leave wounds after he was done.

"Because you pushed me."

"Exactly."

"I wasn't prepared!"

"Exactly."

"We have some work to do, Yuri. Your break has been too long, it seems. She was only picking up on where you left off, in a way." Yakov spoke up between the one-sided staring contest. The boy turned towards the man which included his back facing my front once again. But this time, he was careful on taking a few steps forward to avoid history repeating itself.

"She's not you. She shouldn't do your job. It's none of her business anyway."

"It actually is if you think harder on it. There's no point in me working on your emotional performance if your practical performance is flawed. A skater who can't manage a simple shove will not get up on his or hers feet at the competition as well." You expected some kind of backlash from Yuri, at least a glare or something. But you were met with nothing to your surprise. He didn't speak up either.

"It's settled. You and I will rehearse you back into your former shape before your time with (y/n) begins, starting tomorrow. Meanwhile, also take some time to get to know each other, you two. You seem to need it." Yakov declared the schedule and choose to pinpoint the obvious tension between you and Yuri. You somewhat agreed on spending time besides training. Though, you would rather not take a verbal beating more than once a day further on.

Yuri still didn't speak up but he didn't object either.

"(Y/n), there's food left for you too! Please join us for dinner." Yuuri Katsuki exclaimed and waved an energetic hand towards the bowls and plates on the table. In front of you, you saw the back muscles of the Russian skater's form tense at the words.

You had to decline though. If not for the meeting, then for the sake of giving Yuri some space. It must be hard, after all. Whatever's he's going through right now.

"I would love to! But I have to excuse myself this time. After all, I have a meeting to attend and if I don't get going, I'll soon be running late. See ya folks later!"

And with that, you dashed off.

#yuri on ice #yuri katsuki #yuriart #yuri plisetsky x reader #yuri plisetsky #yurianime #anime fanfic #fanfiction #yuri on ice fandom #yuri on ice fanfiction

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damedamedame · 4 years

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Hello there, Author! May i request headcanons of my glasses boy Akane with a overly sweet and caring female soulmate? She's popular at Kamome for being the kind girl, giving lunch money to pepole who forget it, cheering up and supporting pepole having a hard time, and more. She met Akane and Aoi when she was seven at a summer camp, and immediately starting being caring and sweet towards him.

AKANE AOI X READER - REQUEST

- “When she smiles.”

NOTES: YES. YES YOU MAY. I AM IN DIRE NEED OF AKANE CONTENT RN 🥺✨HAVE YOU READ THE NEW CHAPTER FOLKS

I HAVE

SO MUCH FEELINGS

FOR THIS TIME BOY I S WE AR

*ehem*

Akane, being so blindly in love with Ao-chan still hurts i’m—, didn’t really notice you aT ALL. Well, he does but it’s more on the ‘A special friend who will definitely get me with Ao-chan’.

BUT YOU DIDN’T WANT THAT !!

Actually, you had a tiny huge crush on Akane since the fateful summer camp years ago. You had seen him fretting over Aoi after she slipped and fell because of the rain, the boy looked so stressed for a seven-year old--

“WHERE’S MY FIRST AID KIT???”

Poor boy.

Being the kind and helpful angel that you were, still are, you rushed over to them with your own first aid kit and patched up any wounds or scratches, with the help of one worried yet surprised Akane.

We stan an angel like you, let’s be real here ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ

Ever since then, you three were pretty much inseparable. Although, you felt like such a third wheel for the majority of your time spending with them because of Akane’s love for the adorable Aoi.

“Simp.” You nicknamed him all throughout your years of being together and you always either got the reaction:

*Akane.exe has stopped working* or “Says the one who’s attracting all the simps in school.”

Which is technically true, yes. Your popularity among the male and female students of Kamome Gakuen could rival even Teru, which is A LOT. It’s because you’re so sweet and cheerful, everyone can’t help but be attracted to your gentle personality. You couldn’t even count how much confessions you got in a week alone, which you always had to reject because you already had someone you were attracted to.

Then this led to rumors of you and the prince, Teru Minamoto, dating..

“He isn’t bad at all,” You admit to yourself while walking through the hallways one morning. “but... he’s just not Akane.”

oHOHOH ✨✨✨

Now on to Akane, who was looking for Aoi, who somehow lost him in the crowd while going to the classroom. That was, until he heard someone say, “Did you hear? Minamoto and (L/N) are dating.”

He doesn’t know why that filled him with an endless amount of confusion and some other emotion he didn’t want to admit he was having. Perhaps a sprinkle of ‘Wanting to hate the Pres even more’ too.

Not one to be stupid and oblivious even though he hasn’t seen how much you liked him smh smh, he figures out quickly that he was starting to like you. Not the ‘She’ll help me get with Ao-chan’ or the ‘She’s such a good friend’ bUT NO !! HE LIKE LIKES YOU !!

He’s accepted this fact for weeks, after he catches himself staring at you far too often. Firstly, he was hit with a wave of disbelief because he absolutely adored Aoi but... you were too. You’re breathtaking. You’ve always been, come to think of it.

The way you speak with a voice that could calm even the hardest of hearts? The way you encourage others with your cheerful personality? The way you help everyone around you as much as you can? He’s always admired you since your first meeting, he just didn’t acknowledge the feelings that crept up and slapped him in the face way harder than expected.

So when he heard the news, he may or may not have taken a detour and n y o o m e d over to the Student Council Room. He slams the door open and looks at the President, sitting on a chair and reading over the new pile of papers for today.

“President, do you like (Y/N)-chan?”

“What’s it to you?”

Akane’s eye twitches, looking at Teru with his lips turned into a frown. In turn, Teru flashes him one of those quick grins. Maybe he’s been too harsh on the poor Vice-President these days. Eventually, after a few seconds of complete silence and staring at each other, Teru looks back at his papers with a, “She’s yours, Aoi.”

AKANE HAS NEVER FELT SUCH A RUSH OF RELIEF SINCE?? SAVING AOI USING THE NEW TIME STOPPING POWERS?? YES.

Will most likely tell you his affections after classes at any point that week. He doesn’t want you being stolen by any other man, of course!

“Hey, (Y/N), can we go to that new cafe sometime? Just us?”

“Like a date?” You ask, heart pounding so fast at Akane’s sudden question.

“Y-Yeah...” He can’t help but feel his cheeks flush at how sudden and straightforward he was being when he asked his long-time friend out. Why is he so nervous now?? He’s asked Ao-chan out plenty of times!! What’s so diffe—

You smile. That same smile he’s seen so many times before and he’s finally realized how much it made his heart do flips. So much faster than he’s had with the adorable Ao-chan.

“Definitely.”

NOTES: OKAY I JUST NOTICED THIS ISN’T HCS AT ALL AND IS MORE LIKE A SCENARIO BUT UM UH HE RE I’M SO SORRY T^T BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOY !!

@messy-brain

#akane aoi #akane aoi x reader #tbhk x reader #toilet bound hanako kun

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purplesurveys · 3 years

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1194

survey by n0b0dysp3rf3ct

What’s your favourite song to sing to? These days it’s Sweet Night by V, but it always changes tbh. I don’t really have an all-time favorite song to sing along to.

What’s your relationship like with your exes? Nonexistent. I’m good at blocking off people and memories like that, no matter how special the relationship had been or how much time we spent together. I don’t feel guilty about it; I actually feel more at peace this way.

What mistake do you find yourself making over and over again? Procrastinating and putting off things I could literally finish in 10 minutes or less. I’ve been better about it, to be fair to myself; but the habit comes out every once in a while and I always end up kicking myself in the ass for not already knowing any better.

What are you afraid to lose? Hmm...probably people, especially my friends. I’ve been starting to think more about this these days. My two best friends are in very good, committed relationships, and I know that one day they’ll have lives and families of their own, maybe even move out of the country. I’m finally acknowledging the fact that maybe I am afraid of getting left behind and ending up alone. Those thoughts make me sad, though, and I hate being stuck in feeling sad, so I try to shake them off and focus on my happiness in the present.

What’s one of the hardest decisions you’ve had to make? Agreeing to break up with Gabie. I never liked admitting defeat, so that was a particularly brutal afternoon.

Have you ever gave up on a love interest as they acted differently around other people? I’ve never been in this situation.

Do you think you’re ready for love? What does love even mean to you? I’m taking a break from it, actually. I was in a relationship that I put a lot of effort in for a long time, and I don’t mind focusing on myself for now especially considering I put myself in the backseat for the entirety of said relationship. I feel no need to jump into another relationship any time soon.

What was the last thing you turned down doing? Angela was showing me some shops that were starting to put up offers for the new BTS Hybe Insight photocards. Those photocards are only being given away to visitors who go to the new Hybe museum, and we didn’t want to technically pirate them, so we both chose not to buy. We can wait till we can travel to South Korea together and get the photocards for ourselves :)

Have you ever fell for someone who was clearly bad for you? Technically...yeah? She eventually ended up being bad for me, but I didn’t know it at the time.

Are you a party animal? No. I like attending parties, but I never want to be the center of attention.

Who are you the biggest fan of? My best friends.

When was the last time someone really let you down? I haven’t felt that disappointed in anyone in a while.

What song can you not help but dance to? Mic Drop.

You’re DJ for the night - first track to get everyone going? ...Now that I mentioned it, Mic Drop. The Steve Aoki remix in particular. Sorry folks, y’all are getting K-Pop tonight.

Have you ever been too scared to tell someone how you felt about them? Yes.

Where do you feel the most inspired and creative? Erm, never? I never feel creative. But when it comes to being inspired, I usually feel it when I have one-on-one talks with Bea. She schedules a brief talk with me once every few months just to catch up and ask me how I’m doing, work-wise and growth-wise. I find that it really helps and I always exit the call wanting to perform better at work.

Have you ever been hit on by a pushy person? No.

When’s the last time you met someone for a coffee? I’ve never done that.

Describe the ideal man or woman for you: Kim Taehyung. That man is doing a stupid great job ruining everyone else for me.

What place in nature would you love to visit one day? Somewhere with auroras.

What accent do you find attractive? Like I’ve said on previous answers, I like Florence Pugh’s accent, whatever it is. I could listen to it all day.

What do you think you’re really good at? I’ve always loved writing and I’m pretty confident in my skills.

Do you have something you’d like to tell someone right now? I know Jo is going through a breakup and I want to reach out and share a few reassuring words, but I’m not very good at that kind of stuff. And since she isn’t initiating, it might mean she wants her own space for now too.

Have you ever had feelings for a friends partner? Never.

What career would you love to pursue: I’m more than okay with my current field. But had things turned out differently, I’d most likely be taking up law.

What was the biggest lies you’ve told? I never like lying so I try to make the ones I make as trivial as possible.

How can you tell if someone loves you? Idk for the most part I believe people have different love languages, so expression is always different for everyone. I don’t wait for people to act a certain way for me to deduce that they love me.

What’s one of your fondest memories? Front row at a Paramore concert, 2017. I went alone and danced without a care in the world and sang along to every song, and it was one of the nicest couple hours of my life.

What’s your favourite thing to do that doesn’t cost much? Taking surveys is literally free.

What do you feel unnecessarily judged for? I feel like I would be judged for having an entire blog just for surveys, which is exactly why I don’t share about this hobby with anyone. Not even my ex knew about it until much later on in our relationship.

What are you proud of yourself for? Still being here is a big thing.

What relaxes you after a busy day? As is pretty obvious already at this point, BTS. I like looking for funny compilations or interviews of theirs to watch to de-stress.

Have you ever known someone who suffered from drug addiction? Nope. Not that I know of, at least.

Why did your last relationship end? She wasn’t in it anymore.

Who do you have a crush on? Taehyung :/

When was the last time you stayed up all night? I was up until 4 AM earlier, if that counts. I don’t really do entire all-nighters anymore; latest I can do is either 4 or 5 AM.

Have you ever been someone’s rebound? No.

What would you fight LTR for the right to do? I don’t know what that is or who they are.

When did you last apologise? What was it for and was it accepted? Some work stuff came up today and it was something I needed to ask my manager about, so I had to message her. I apologized profusely before and after my main message since it’s a weekend and I HATE making my co-workers think about work on weekends, but the matter was a little urgent and it couldn’t wait. But eventually the thing got sorted out, so I followed up with a message asking her to disregard my question, and I sent her a heart GIF as well.

Have you ever been to Cuba? I haven’t, but I’d like to visit.

What do you feel positive about? That I am most likely ordering Frankie’s tonight because I’m having a serious craving for spicy Korean wings that I can’t ignore anymore.

Do you know any Spanish? I’ve retained the words, sentences, and verb tenses I was able to learn when I was still training on Duolingo; and Filipino has a lot of Spanish influences, so I wouldn’t say I’m completely unfamiliar with Spanish. I wouldn’t be able to last a conversation, though.

If you could go on a road trip now, where’s you go? Continued from this morning. I’d probably just go back to Tagaytay. La Union could be a great road trip spot as well.

When in danger are you more fight or flight? Flight. What makes you irrationally angry? When people speak excessive Taglish, especially in a work setting. Most Filipinos are fluent in both, so I’d wish they’d pick one and stick to it. I find code-switching pretty unprofessional for the most part.

Do you feel self conscious about a certain body part? Sure.

Is there someone you’ll always be there for? If so, who? My best friends.

Have you been accused of being manipulative? Gab probably did a few times, but I barely remember those memories anymore.

What’s the most romantic thing someone has done for you? I literally can’t remember anymore.

What or who do you miss from your childhood? The ability to be carefree and the greater space to make mistakes.

Do you miss late night calls with a certain somrone? No, I hate calls.

What would you like to do again some time? Be able to go back to coffee shops.

What’s your least favourite season? Summer.

Do you know someone who’s ridiculously arrogant and entitled? A lot of boomers and older Gen X-ers.

Have you ever considered violence to solve your problem? No.

Who’s the best dancer you know? That I know in real life? Aubrey. Overall, Park Jimin.

What’s the best bit of advice you’ve received? I can’t seem to remember the exact same quote they gave me, but it was Andi telling me a few months ago not to rush my healing so I can avoid potentially harming myself in the process.

How good a swimmer are you? Not very good. I just like swimming leisurely.

What’s your favourite baby animal? Puppies and baby elephants.

What’s the best compliment you have received? It’s always nice to be told I’m strong.

What’s your favourite gemstone? Don’t have one.

Do you bounce back well when things go wrong or does it take a while? It takes a while, but I always get there eventually.

What’s an underrated colour/shade you really like? Not sure; the colors I tend to lean towards I think are pretty popular choices.

What insult or label would hurt you the most to recieve? Being told I’m useless or a burden.

How often do you notice the attractiveness of strangers? I rarely find strangers attractive.

Are you good at hiding your emotions? No, I practically wear them on my face.

Are you romantic? More than I’d like to admit.

#survey #surveys

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tabloidtoc · 3 years

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National Examiner, April 12

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

Cover: Mark Harmon quitting NCIS

Page 2: Stars Who Rock Around the Clock -- they believe in the healing power of crystals -- Naomi Campbell, Shirley MacLaine, Adele, Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen, Uma Thurman

Page 3: Debra Messing, Goldie Hawn and Kate Hudson, Megan Fox, Katy Perry, Gisele Bundchen

Page 4: Eddie Murphy's roles and costumes

Page 6: George Clooney is turning 60 in May, and he says being an older dad to toddlers has its benefits -- his son isn't ever going to feel competitive with him and he'll be gumming his bread by the time he'd feel competitive with him, jokes the Oscar-winning actor, whose twins Ella and Alexander turn 4 in June -- George is well aware that growing up with two highly accomplished parents (his wife Amal Clooney is a successful human rights lawyer) can put a lot of pressure on a kid and that's why the couple is already guiding Ella and Alexander with strong values and kind hearts because George says it's their job to make sure that they care about people and that they challenge people in power and look out for people who don't have power and those are the things he was raised with -- the known prankster is also passing the practical joke tradition down to the next generation and he taught Alexander to take a piece of banana, chew it up and then spit it into a napkin, then stand next to him mom, pretend to blow his nose into it and look down until Mama looks at it, then eat it

Page 7: Partridge Family star Shirley Jones turned 87, and she's brimming over with gratitude for her wonderful life that's been chock-full of extraordinary experiences -- she says you have to have a good time and enjoy life to the fullest and before you know it you'll be 87 -- Shirley has three sons (her stepson David Cassidy died in 2017) and 13 grandchildren

Page 8: Take your etiquette test for tea with Queen Elizabeth

Page 9: Brain foods that may help prevent dementia

* Study says new drug slows Alzheimer's

Page 10: Jennifer Garner recently opened up about her real feelings on her body -- she's 48 and single and has three children with ex-husband Ben Affleck: daughters Violet and Seraphina and son Samuel -- in a recent interview, she admitted that her body has changed a lot since having three kids and she doesn't mind one little bit, even though she was hurt when a friend hinted she may be expecting again, saying there are some women whose bodies just, no matter how many babies they have, they bounce right back to that slim-hipped, no stomach and she has so many girlfriends who have that physique and she's so happy for them, but she's not one of them and she can work really hard and she can be really fit and she will still look like a woman who's had three babies and she always will

Page 11: 6 stomach symptoms you should never ignore -- catch problems before the become deadly

Page 12: After more than two decades, James Brolin says he's discovered the way to keep his marriage to Barbra Streisand going strong: negotiation -- it's taken two marriages and 22 years for him to figure it out and he and his wife have gotten so close being locked down together -- his mother was the sweetest person so he never really learned to negotiate with women but now he knows if you sit down and talk about a situation, you can work it out

Page 14: Dear Tony, America's Top Psychic Healer -- don't make snap judgments; you may lose the perfect mate -- Tony predicts a very hot summer coming and a lot more street crime

Page 15: Folks getting their COVID-19 vaccinations at the Berkshire Community College in Massachusetts got a shocking treat: a mini-concert from world-famous cellist Yo-Yo Ma -- while waiting out his 15-minute observation period, the musician sat down to play a socially distant symphony for his fellow inoculees

Page 16: Duchess Kate is never seen without a purse, but what exactly does she keep inside it? There's quite a history between royal women and their handbags: Princess Diana used her clutch bag to cover her cleavage from prying photographers, Queen Elizabeth moves her handbag from one arm to the other to signal to her staff when she's bored of chatting with someone, and Kate carries her bag in her left hand so she can keep her right hand free to greet and shake hands with guests and she holds her bag in front of her when shaking hands might be awkward -- according to royal protocol pre-pandemic, Kate must extend her hand first for another person to shake hands with her, so if she prefers to just smile instead of touching other folks, she uses her clutch to do that -- author Marcia Moody who wrote Kate: A Biography, says the duchess always carries four must-have items: in her small clutch, she carries a compact mirror, a handkerchief, blotting paper and lip balm and every now and then, if she's going to attend a tennis match, for example, Kate will carry a pair of sunglasses -- unlike Queen Elizabeth, whose purses come from a company called Launer, the duchess favors different brands, but mostly a company called Mulberry -- nowadays with three small children, the mom gravitates toward midsize bags with handles because she's got to take more items with her like a handy bunch of tissues, good for wiping little noses and faces, and also takes her camera along

Page 18: William Shatner confesses that when he starred in Star Trek during the mid-60s, he had no idea it would become a worldwide phenomenon still popular today -- Shatner, who turned 90 in March, says it's unimaginable and it's all beyond anybody's imagination or ability to repeat and the greatest thing about being the captain of the Enterprise for three years was his relationship with the cast and the roles were written so well

Page 19: Brandy is a one-in-a million cat because those are the odds she'd ever be found again after she went missing 15 years ago -- when Charles got the phone call from a California animal shelter that his missing pet has been found, he could scarcely believe his ears and the Los Angeles man was skeptical and thought it must be a mistake but he had made sure the two-month-old kitten had a microchip and sure enough, the malnourished stray they found was his Brandy -- Charles did break down and cry because he thought about all of the years he lost from her and when he picked her up, she started to purr and it was very emotional

Page 20: Mark Harmon finally lured wife Pam Dawber out of retirement to star alongside him on NCIS, but the pairing will be short-lived because he's leaving the show after 18 hit seasons -- the 69-year-old star is finally fed up with the backbreaking hours, endless rehearsals, and feuds with cast and crew, and plans to ride off into the sunset with Pam and retire to the couple's Montana Ranch -- Mark's contract is up after season 18, and he's agonized over whether to sign a new one and he's being offered the moon and the stars to come back for a few more seasons, but he says his heart just isn't in it and Mark has faced problems on the set over the past few years and he feels his age, he just doesn't need the aggravation anymore -- NCIS recently teased a possible departure of his character Leroy Gibbs when the special agent commander was suspended for assaulting and nearly killing a suspect but despite that, Harmon insists Gibbs not be killed off so he can leave the door open for a possible return

Page 22: Legendary actor Michael Caine just turned 88 and he's still going strong, starring in an upcoming comedy Best Sellers and says he knows he's old but he doesn't feel old, not in his head, where it matters

Page 24: They say money doesn't buy happiness, but what do people spend their money on that can buy happiness? You don't need millions of dollars to afford the things that happy people buy to stay that way and studies show that anything over $75,000 a year in income is gravy, which means yachts, jewels, second homes and art collections are not at all required -- the best thing to drop your cash on is experiences and doing is better than having and in other words, an object you own will never give you the consistent pleasure of an experience that creates good memories that live on forever -- also the best experiences are the ones that involve other people like having a picnic with family, going rafting with pals, or even just walking and talking with an exercise buddy

Page 25: Freshen Your Fridge -- make a clean start with this 5-step plan

Page 26: Tony's Mystic World -- may the force be with you -- the life force can be drained out of you by fear or worry

Page 28: Sensational Snaps From Around the World -- photo contest captures amazing sights

Page 31: When to trash it -- the useful lifespan of refrigerated food

Page 32: It's been 40 years since Marilu Henner starred on the hit sitcom Taxi, but the great memories and wonderful co-stars are always on her mind because she's still pals with them -- they always stayed in touch with each other and never lost touch and do a Taxi Zoom every two months and they're all very current with each other and they have a text chain as well and they're in contact every week -- Marilu is close with cast members Tony Danza, Judd Hirsch, Danny DeVito, Christopher Lloyd and Carol Kane

Page 33: Garth Brooks is overjoyed wife Trisha Yearwood has finally bounced back from her bout with COVID-19 -- she seems to be 100 percent, according to Garth, and at the end there during fatigue she got real impatient, really kind of mean and sassy and he thought well, she's back to herself -- after announcing in February that Trisha had the coronavirus and Garth said he had tested negative

Page 40: The grass is always greener when you use these simple gardening tips

* Avoid cat-astrophe -- the right way to add a stray

Page 42: 10 things you never knew about Glenn Close -- the wildly successful actress turned 74 in March

Page 44: Eyes on the Stars -- Sylvester Stallone and wife Jennifer Flavin leave a Florida hotel (picture), Jane Seymour is still looking on the bright side even as the world continues to weather the pandemic, one year after the death of Kenny Rogers his family thanked fans as they honored his life, Sharon Stone is dishing dirt about her Hollywood past in her recently released memoir like one moviemaker who told her to have sex with a male co-star to improve their on-screen chemistry, 28-year-old twins Lady Amelia and Lady Eliza Spencer who are the nieces of Princess Diana recently stepped out in South Africa as bridesmaids for fellow high society girl Leila Osato, director Christopher Columbus pooh-poohed internet rumors about the existence of an NC-17 cut of Mrs. Doubtfire but he did confirm there's an unreleased R-rated version

Page 45: Good Morning America co-host Cecilia Vega mugs it up for the camera on the morning show (picture), Gretta Monahan gets out of a car (picture), longtime GMA veteran Robin Roberts displays her ever-present sunny side on the set (picture), the Hollywood Hills home of Johnny Depp recently had some uninvited guests when a man was spotted loitering by the property's pool but ran off after being confronted by a neighbor and not much later Johnny's security team called police about another unwanted visitor who had taken a shower and helped himself to the actor's booze, Elsa Pataky has been married to Chris Hemsworth for 10 years and says patience and communication and understanding are what help their relationship be successful

Page 46: A Texas man has helped thousands of people by donating his blood platelets a staggering 962 times over the past 37 years

Page 47: Celebrity Weddings Gone Wrong -- Ryan Reynolds and Blake Lively, Cameron Diaz and Benji Madden, Nicky Hilton and James Rothschild, Chrissy Teigen and John Legend, Jessica Simpson and Eric Johnson, Freddie Prinze Jr. and Sarah Michelle Gellar, Katherine Heigl and Josh Kelley

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catbowserauthor · 3 years

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A preview of the next TMNT Empathy story “Aftershocks”

So it’s been forever and day since I worked on my TMNT Empathy series but I got inspired tonight and am finally making progress with the next story, which takes place directly after “Damage.” Or, right after Kala has severed ties with Michelangelo. Here’s a short little preview.

@brightlotusmoon

***

Mess with me and I will let karma do its job. Mess with my family and I will BECOME karma.-Unknown

“This way.”

Michelangelo gave a slight yelp as Raphael pulled him along. He barely had time to straighten his hat to hide his appearance before his older brother was dragging him into the nearby doors. “Dude, why the rush? You have been acting mondo-bizarro.” That was the understatement of the year. First and foremost, when he had dragged himself out of bed, he had been utterly dumbfounded that there was no one shouting at him to get to the dojo. Early morning practice came even before breakfast but no one was rushing him along. When he had rushed into the dojo, certain that he was late, it was empty. Thinking he was beyond late and certainly due for a lecture that would make his ears bleed, he ended up running through the Lair only find that Master Splinter had merely left a note that he had taken Leonardo with him for some meditation practice away from the noise of the Lair.

But what noise? It was silent! Not even workaholic Donatello in his lab!

At least until Raphael practically ambushed him outside the main entrance (“Thanks for the heart attack, compadre!”) and threw the trench coat on him before pulling him through the sewers, proclaiming about them going to be late for the “best morning ever!” He had begun babbling about how there was a special going on with breakfast pizza and how the House of HaHa had their “best acts” performing all day and then how Donatello had some type of special surprise for them before lunch and then they were going to have to raid the comic shops when they opened.

Michelangelo was officially freaked out.

The red banded turtle gave his brother a cheeky grin, rolling his eyes, “Since when does the party-turtle turn down a good time?”

Cocking a suspicious brow ridge, the teenager responded “And since when does my super-cranky amigo become Mister Rogers?”

Raphael pouted, though it never seemed to look right on his face. That was more of a Michelangelo move and even then, not very often. So, he instead pasted another smile on his face, “What, I can’t want to spend some time with my bud every so often?”

Michelangelo tensed “Aw, man, amigo, did you get hit with Donatello’s Personality Alterator again?” That HAD to be the only reason for this maximum-weirdiozo behavior! Raphael, while not cruel, was also not the spoiley, let’s-have-a-guys-day type of turtle. He would go along with it if you pestered or offered but actually instigating it? This was Outer Limits-level odd! Outer Limits crossover with Twilight Zone-kind of odd! If it wasn’t so unnerving, he’d really be enjoying it but given it was such a random shift….he had so many things on his mind after…after Friday night…and he really didn’t need dissecting a brother’s totally nutsoid behavior added to the list.

“Will you stop giving me the tenth degree and just come on?!” Raphael snapped. He stood, pushing his sibling into one of the chairs near the front of the club. There weren’t a lot of people; never really were for a morning show as the House of HaHa was definitely more of a ‘night club’ type of scene but that didn’t mean they didn’t have any acts in the morning. The owner had been proclaiming about it being “a day of laughter” all last week, promising “our best acts every hour!” so Raphael thought it was the perfect spot! After all, he always got a kick of it. His brother could be a LITTLE more appreciative.

“Okay,” Michelangelo admitted with a half laugh, “THERE is Raphael.”

Rolling his eyes, Raphael flagged down one of the servers and asked for “your largest breakfast pizza, all the fixings, and a pitcher of Coke,” before sitting down across from his brother, “Look, sorry that I’m trying to give you a good time. Should I mark it down that Michelangelo wants to foot the bill then?”

Shaking his head, Michelangelo clarified, “It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, compadre.” He stressed that. “It’s a bodacious idea…breakfast pizza and a free morning…but why?” No lying there. A breakfast pizza, soda and a morning to not worry about training or exercises was totally righteous! That didn’t mean that he didn’t wonder what brought it on though!

Raphael shrugged “Eh, seemed like a good idea and I wasn’t about to turn down Sensei stealing Leonardo.”

Michelangelo nodded, though he didn’t believe him (he knew his brother too well) but their attention was divided when the first comedian made his way up to the stage, obviously not happy at the small group (there were only about three other tables with customers) but when you were a starting comic, you didn’t exactly get top billing. The House of HaHa rarely got what you would call “top notch” comics (given its small size) so it wasn’t usual for small, beginner comics to try their routine on the group. Sometimes with good results, sometimes with bad.

The red banded turtle HOPED the owner hadn’t been lying about the “best acts” part. He needed good comics. He needed to get a laugh out of his younger brother! No more of this mopey, sad and depressed Michelangelo. He couldn’t take it!

Raphael grinned and nudged his brother, “Hey, it’s Joey! Remember him?”

Michelangelo couldn’t say so much he remembered him so much as he recognized him. When they’d saved Raphael from Barney Stockman and Pinky McFingers and their ‘Gag-a-magnifier’ (seriously, who came up with these names?) there had been two comedians with Raphael and this older man was one of them. Apparently, he was still semi-popular as a few of the patrons seemed to recognize him. Michelangelo wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing but he took a sip of water that was offered and focused his attention.

Raphael wanted him to laugh, to feel better. If he was any more blatant about it, it would have been announced with a gong. Raphael had never been good about covering up his emotions, at least as far as Michelangelo was concerned. After the…disaster of a date Friday night, he’d finally gone to bed and had moped around the Lair most of Saturday. When he woke up today, he really didn’t feel much better and would have liked nothing more than to just lay around the Lair doing nothing but what could he do when Raphael had been so insistent? His brother was trying to cheer him up and judging by his statement that Donatello would be joining them later, his other siblings were in on it too. Pretty sweet of them. For all their teasing towards one another, they did love each other, just had different ways of showing it.

So, while Michelangelo inwardly cringed at what might pass for ‘funny’, he had to give a half smile as he went along with it. “Sort of…” he offered his brother but opted not to finish because Joey was starting his routine.

“’Morning Folks,” Joey greeted them. “Glad to see you all. Got a whole new load of questions for you today!” He paused, seemingly for dramatic effect, “So, the other day, I’m chatting with the baker down at the store, just the usual catching up kind of thing and he tells me that he and his wife weren’t able to get the new car they were planning on. Know why?”

Michelangelo groaned inwardly as Raphael and for that matter, most of the audience, finished with “he didn’t make enough dough.”

Joey smiled and offered a wink. “You got it folks. Felt bad for the guy, I really did. He’s got two kids, see, and his daughter’s been feeling really down in the dumps. Heck, she went to the river yesterday to…”

“Fish for compliments,” Raphael chimed in.

A few of the audience members clapped but Michelangelo winced, burying his face into his arms to suppress a groan. Man, this guy was bad. Nothing against the guy but the jokes…they were painful!

“And you know the other day, I found out that it’s not just humans that can be rude. I met the rudest bird in my garden. He was a …”

“Mocking bird!”

Michelangelo did groan that time.

This kind of back and forth continued for about ten minutes before Joey finally left the stage when he stopped getting laughs and even the other people in the club were starting to look disinterested. Raphael could see the owner gesturing to him from the side and finally he got the hint. Well, Joey had never been the best of that group of three, at least in the red banded turtle’s opinion. Raphael looked up to his younger brother and made a face. Michelangelo had buried his head into his folded arms but he wasn’t asleep. Looks like he wasn’t the only one with that opinion. “Eh, okay, Michelangelo so Joey’s talent isn’t exactly his jokes.”

“Mondo understatement, Dude.” He remarked. Lifting his head, he remarked “I mean, I give the Dude points for gettin’ up there and trying but those were really mondo-bad.”

The server finally brought out their pizza at that point and it was excellent timing. Raphael had a feeling that this wasn’t going like he had hoped. Best acts his shell! He had a few words to exchange with the owner over that. Aside from a small smile at the beginning, his brother still had that depressed look and darn it, Michelangelo was not meant to be depressed! He was the turtle that was supposed to be full of life and happy and smiling but…because of a girl’s selfish actions, here he was, trying to cheer up the cheerleader! It was completely backwards!

“Alright! Bodacious!” Michelangelo took hold of the nearest slice, grinning widely. Loaded down with all the fixings, yes, this looked wonderful. He took a giant bite of a slice, relishing in the egg, sausage, bacon, tomato and even the thin coating of grits that was underneath the cheese. Breakfast pizza was usually more complicated and they didn’t routinely make it so getting a large one was a real treat. It gave him something to focus on besides what was rushing through his head. Despite his brother’s attempts, Michelangelo found his thoughts still drifted to Kala.

Why wouldn’t she let him help her? He’d do anything to help her! Hadn’t he shown her that? Didn’t she know that—

“Hey! Daydreamer!”

His brother’s sharp tone snapped him out of his somber thinking and he blinked, taking in Raphael’s concerned-but-covered-up-with-annoyance look. He knew that look anywhere. You didn’t grow up with someone and not learn their looks, despite how they might try and hide them. “Oh, major league sorry, Raphael. What did you say?” He took another bite of the pizza slice in his hand, realizing he must have been thinking a bit because some of it had tumbled onto his plate. Not like him to waste pizza toppings.

Rolling his eyes, Raphael responded “I said not to let Joey throw you off. They DO have good comedians here! Hey, they liked my routine!”

Michelangelo didn’t say anything for a moment. Okay, so his brother wasn’t HORRIBLE per say but he wouldn’t exactly say that he was ‘great’ either. At least not when he was trying to be funny. “Oh.” He finally said but then promptly wanted to slap himself in the forehead. Michelangelo didn’t say ‘oh,’ he didn’t just sit there and stare blankly ahead either. He was totally failing in his brother role right now! He was supposed to be supportive of family goals and his brother was totally going out of his way to make him feel better and he was being a major wet rag about it! Maybe he should pick up the tab…

“Hey!” Raphael chimed in, oddly enough, not hurt. “I’m pretty good!”

Refocused again, Michelangelo clarified “When you’re not trying, you are, Dude.”

Under normal circumstances, Raphael would have taken that as an insult. However, Michelangelo had been showing since Friday night that his humor radar was deeply off kilter. Plus, he hadn’t said he _wasn’t_ funny, just that he was funny when he wasn’t trying. Well, what did that mean?! Raphael took the bait and inquired as much with another bite of pizza himself, “Whatta you mean, when I’m not trying? I put a ton of work into my jokes, I’ll have you know!” He gave his sibling a half pout but once again, that look just didn’t work for him.

“Oh, believe me, we know” Michelangelo replied to his brother “But your jokes aren’t when you’re funny, Raphael,” he responded simply “Sorry to bust your bubble, amigo. It’s when you’re just talkin’ about our family or our mondo-crazy lives or the latest near-death avoidance fiasco that you’re funny.” He added “See, real life is funny enough and you’re bodacious at pointing that out.” He took another bite of pizza, swallowed and said “You try, like, way too hard, compadre, to be funny. Don’t try so hard.”

Raphael had to admit that this took him by surprise. He had always thought that being funny meant pouring more skill into his writing of jokes and routines. But faced with this information, he frowned, considered.

“Well, that settles it.” Pushing his plate aside, Raphael stood and made his way to the front of the room. Michelangelo reached after him, calling for him to come back, no doubt thinking that he’d hurt his feelings but the red banded turtle was on a mission now. His little brother needed to smile, damn it! And if the comedians provided by this club weren’t going to cut it, then shell it all, he’d do it himself!

#tmnt #1987 tmnt #1987 teenage mutant ninja turtles #BIG BROTHER RAPH #heartbroken mikey #depressed mikey #family support #family love #empathy series #Mikey is a sweetheart

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fred-frederator-studios · 4 years

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Dale Pon, R.I.P.

Pretty much the most famous media advertising campaign in history is “I Want My MTV!” –the May 2020 Google search returns 184,000 results, more than 30 years after the last flight ran– and it was the result of the brain of Dale Pon.*

* As I explain in detail in the pieces below, writer extraordinaire Nancy Podbielniak was the word spark for the campaign; it was George Lois who suggested ripping off “I Want My Maypo!” Dale Pon was the person who took these notions and turned them into brilliance.

Dale persuaded me and the powers that be at MTV that he could make it work, Dale who convinced MTV programmers to recording artists to participate for no fees. It was Dale who took the paltry budget allotted and strategized how to maximize the network’s cable distribution. And finally, it was Dale Pon’s dogged persistence and genius that caused cable operators across America to beg us to please stop running the campaign before all the telephone operators quit in frustration from all the people “demanding their MTV!!!”

My great friend –and better mentor– Dale Pon, passed away from difficulties due to Parkinson’s and Covid19. There’s no way to convey all of the ways people expressed their sadness to me today, but one of them probably encapsulated things best by saying “Complicated but brilliant, creatively inspired, strategic like chess master , we were lucky to have been touched by his talents...” All too true.

Dale could be –to say the least– a challenging personality. Determined to win, he could be a bulldozer crushing an ant. Warm at his core, he could be beyond generous will all he had at his disposal. Unlike many others with talent and raw intelligence, he was quick to share his remarkable thinking, lavish in his ability to elevate the talents of the shy and uncertain, and as bountiful with praises as he could be lacerating with his critical observations. He loved as deeply as he was able, and a constant explorer for the meanings of life.

When it came to the work, there was no one better at understanding media, and getting fans interested in its rewards. I don’t know if it was his methodologies and personality, or the fact that media promotion wasn’t all that well respected in the ad biz, but Dale didn’t have too much of a profile in the advertising world. I think, ultimately, he was much more focused on the work than on the publicity. So, things being what they are, what I’ve collected seems to be the most comprehensive look at his career, at least the parts that I’ve directly touch. By no means is it comprehensive, I know nothing about his radio days in the early 70s, and little about his work after I joined the cartoon industry. But all of what I have is yours, below.

I’ll lead with what a few of his colleagues and friends wrote a few years ago for Dale’s birthday. And then, below that, all the various campaign pieces (written from my perspective, of course) I’ve recalled over the years.

.....

April 2016, on the occasion of Dale’s birthday.

Dale Pon, my mentor and friend. Fucking smart.

Dale Pon’s been on my mind lately, as he is almost every day, because of the ways he taught me to think about …. um,everything. I’ve written about some other important mentors before, but Dale’s influence was so staggering I could never figure out how to sketch it out in anything shorter than book length.

“Dominate the space.” (He was referring to graphic design, but it might have served as a life philosophy).

“Of course, there’s an absolute truth.”

“You remember the first thing you see, but the last thing you hear.”

“The power of three.” (Broke that rule with this list.)

“Advertising is a frequency medium.”

“You make album tracks. I make hit songs.”

I’m not sure that he ever thought of himself as particularly quotable, but as you’ll see below, I wasn’t alone in internalizing. There were hundreds more bon mots, most of which he probably forgot as soon as he said them but stuff I’ve never been able to shake off, to this day.

His resume doesn’t do him justice, but quickly… For 40 years, Dale Pon was at the forefront of media programming and promotion for many of the major media companies, CBS, NBC, Viacom, Storer Broadcasting (where we met). He specialized in radio throughout his career, but when Bob Pittman moved into cable television, he prevailed there too (“I Want My MTV!” is still returns hundreds of thousands of Google search results, 30 years after it went off the air). He was wildly successful in an advertising agency partnership with ad legend George Lois, before setting up a solo shop, Dale Pon Advertising, in New York City.

Dale was brash and loud, very, and he certainly wasn’t to everyone’s taste. The friend who first recommended me for one of his jobs called in a rage when he quit and said if I really needed a gig so badly… I knew Dale’s work from its supremacy of the metropolitan subway system for the New York country music powerhouse (a paradox if there ever was one) WHN Radio, but it hadn’t occurred to me that actual human beings created advertising, or that it took any real brain power. Dale quickly disabused me of that notion, as he sent me to his tailor to buy me my first three piece suit (more appropriate for Park Avenue media than the cut off shorts I wore to our interview).

Most of all, he was really fucking smart. And deeply, articulately, astute about media. He could tell the story of radio stations or television networks better than anyone, and persuade their audiences to fall profoundly in love, by sticking to the basic human emotions like truth, desire, love. (My favorite? “Love songs, nothing but love songs” for WPIX-FM, directly appropriated for an Off-Broadway show). He didn’t end it there, with a creative, strategic and statistical brilliance that combined, to quote Bob Pittman (from another context completely) “math and magic.”

What I appreciated most was his intense, almost overwhelming desire to teach me everything he knew at exactly the moment I was desperate for his knowledge. In fact, as I observed him with myself and others over the years, it would be fair to say that if you wasn’t interested in being taught, Dale Pon wasn’t interested in you. And, not for nothing, it went both ways. He’s was as incisive a questioner and listener as one could want. Curious, intrigued, dying to know anything on almost any subject. In my case, it meant that we generally spent six or seven days together all the years we were together in two different media capitals. Whew!

Difficult? Challenging? Exasperating? You bet. I wouldn’t trade that time for anything.

Dale’s the one who changed the course of my work life, and as Scott Webb says below, “he changed me.” It’s because of Dale that I stumbled on my understanding that I wasn’t a music guy after all, or even a TV baby, but a pop culture sponge. I wouldn’t had the chance to participate in any of the culture shiftings I got to observe first hand. Who knows, maybe I would’ve stumbled through a life of complete dissatisfaction. That’s how profound his influence was on me.

Dale’s birthday recently passed by, and stuck for cogent things to say about him, I reached out to a few friends who’ve crossed his path and might be better at expressing themselves than I ever could. You’ll notice they’re pretty powerful personalities themselves, but Dale made an impression. Boy, did he make an impression. (I left out some of those controversial moments and unproductive comments.)

Well, our friends didn’t let us down. They got to the heart of the matter in ways I never could. Thanks everyone.

…..

Herb Scannell: Mythical.

Dale Pon is mythical.

He’s the man who “wanted his MTV” and got the world to say the same. My friend Fred always claimed that he learned whatever he knew from Dale and whatever I know I learned from Fred so it all comes back to Dale. Or blame them both. Happy Birthday Dale! Forever young!

…..

Bob Pittman: The Mad Scientist.

Dale Pon is the mad scientist of advertising. Full of passion, always with a breakthrough idea and the urgency to get it done quickly with no compromises. He made a huge contribution to my successes at WNBC Radio, MTV and even Six Flags theme parks. One of a kind….happy birthday to him from a big fan!

……

Scott Webb: “Most people don’t know how to think.”

Dale Pon didn’t just change my life he changed me. He encouraged me to be brave and fearless and never stop solving problems. He is one of the smartest people I have ever met and the teacher I will never forget.

You never know how things are going to happen. After 4 years at Sarah Lawrence, one of the most expensive liberal arts schools, I was clueless about a career. My secret wish was to write comics (mostly because I had no talent to draw). Unlike most of my class at SLC my parents were basically working class folks with a yankee work ethic who expected me to not move back home after graduation.

One January evening, I was talking with my friend Betsy K who had just graduated. She had just returned home from job hunting in the city. She had an interview at WNBC Radio; they weren’t hiring but were looking for interns. “What’s an intern?” I asked. I was so naive.

I immediately fell in love with the energy of the radio station. I had to work there.

“You’ll be working for Dale Pon. He’s very demanding. Do you think you can handle that?” asked Buzz Brindle, a WNBC program director. Me? Of course! I’ve got my Yankee work ethic and my Sarah Lawrence education. I thought I was ready for anything. But I was not ready for Dale Pan.

Dale was bigger than life, louder than anyone else in the company and frequently slammed the door to his tiny office. I found him brilliant, charismatic and intimidating.

My first big assignment for Dale was to create a chart of all the radio stations in New York and rank them by ratings performance over the past 2 years. I wanted to do a great job for him but the truth was that I was terrible at chart making. I was a liberal arts comic book kid and he had me doing statistical analysis and I knew if I did a bad job I would probably face his famous wrath behind a slammed closed door. But despite my inept chart building, Dale painstakingly taught me how to read the Arbitron reports and methodically went through my work and instructed me how to correct it. I learned more from him over that 5 month internship than I had in my last 2 years of college. But my lesson wasn’t in statistical analysis or radio promotion. Dale had high expectations of me, he believed in me and he was demanding in the pursuit of excellence.

A lot of people at the station didn’t like Dale mostly because he would raise his voice to make a point or because he was passionate about his beliefs, or would not hold back his opinion when something was mediocre, pedestrian or just plain stupid. Dale expected greatness in people, work and business. His mission was to win and often people found that difficult to embrace. I, on the other hand, found it awesome. I guess he reminded me of the comic book heroes I admired so much - characters who were extraordinary and could do things other people thought were impossible. Most people at the radio station were happy to have a job and get a paycheck and could care less about being #1 but for him that was all that mattered.

It didn’t hurt that he was so smart and insightful. He had the uncanny super power of understand exactly what the problem was – and he taught me that creativity was the ability to solve problems in fresh, innovative and smart ways.

“Do you know why I hired you?” he asked me at the end of my internship. “I didn’t want to hire one of those kids who studied advertising or media in college. Those kids have been ruined. They show up thinking they already know everything - and they haven’t even had a job yet. You didn’t know anything but you were willing to learn and think. Most people don’t know how to think.”

Those were some of the most important words I ever heard. They lit a fire of confidence and trust in myself that did not exist before and served me throughout my life, not just in work but in life.

…..

Bill Sobel: He yelled at me on the phone…no idea why.

…..

Noreen Morioka: “Good creates things, and Evil destroys it.”

There is no doubt that we all have a great Dale Pon story. Dale never did anything average. He did everything in extremes. Whether you were laughing so hard that you couldn’t breathe or wanting to shake him like a rag doll, Dale is unforgettable.

One of my favorite Dale Pon stories is when he was pitching a new name for a network. Since the channel was going to be all re-runs of a lower level, Dale named it Trash TV. I loved it, but when I presented my designs, he thought what I did wasn’t trashy enough and proceeded to get another designer to put flies swarming around the proposed logomark. When he presented his concept to the network president, he stopped at the building dumpster and pulled out garbage to bring up to presentation. Needless to say, the meeting didn’t go well, and the president was furious that Dale brought garbage into his beautiful office. Stern words were exchanged on both sides and security was called to take Dale and garbage out of the office. He called later to let me know they were going to search for another name. The network changed their name several times since then, and each time Dale would just smile. We all knew his solution was genius.

Like you, Fred, Dale taught me a lot. He taught me never to settle, always come back stronger and most importantly what the difference between good and evil was.

“Good creates things, and Evil destroys it.” Thanks to this simple Dale Pon-ism, I live my life by.

I will always have a deep respect and love for that guy. Happy Birthday, Dale. You are the true original.

…..

Tina Potter: So thoughtful.

Dale is a magnanimous gift-giver. I once told him the Chrysler Building was my favorite building in NY, and the next time I saw him, he brought me a beautiful framed B&W print of the building! So thoughtful. I still have it!

……

Judith Bookbinder: ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE.

I learned a lot from Dale in a very short time.

Dale taught me that ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE.

If you want to make something happen, figure it out or find someone who can do it for you.

This simple wisdom is something that has served me throughout my professional life.

…..

Ed Salamon: Directness and Simplicity.

I always appreciate the opportunity to say something nice about Dale, but the stories that first came to mind involved women, drugs, and fistfights. Or were otherwise too self-incriminating. Here’s what I’ve come up with:

The genius of Dale’s creativity is its directness and simplicity (like “I Want My MTV!”). Unfortunately that sometimes resulted in it being underappreciated.

When we worked together at WHN Radio I once heard our boss say to Dale at the end of the day “We need a new ad campaign slogan for the station by tomorrow. Take twenty minutes tonight, walk around the Village and come up with something.”

When I later started The United Stations Radio Network with Dick Clark and others, we hired Dale to create the logo, which he agreed to do out of friendship for only a nominal fee. The logo was a distinctive type face, with the letters stuck together (“united”). Some in the company commented that it was too simple; others appreciated its genius.

……

Tom Freston: A great bunch of guys.

Dale is a great bunch of guys. Argumentative, persistent, a perfectionist, fun, difficult, and smart as hell….winning, ultimately, most of his arguments. Happy birthday.

…..

Therese Gamba: “Work smarter, not harder.”

Long before there was “Better Call Saul” it was “Better Call Dale” when you were faced with a creative challenge. Dale had a long term relationship with MTV Networks having been part of the launch team for that iconic channel. So when The Nashville Network had to be relaunched as the new home of the WWE (then the WWF), oh and it had to be done in three months, there was only one person to call.

My first meeting with Dale was over lunch at the Mercer Kitchen. Fred had prepped me that Dale liked metrics and to be ready for a lot of questions. But as anyone who’s met with Dale will tell you, you can never be fully prepared for the hurricane of creative energy that is Dale Pon.

I was prepared with my Venn diagram of the overlap between TNN’s current viewers and the WWE’s viewers (no surprise, not a big cross section). Then the questions started in what felt like a ping pong match at warp speed.

Two hours into the lunch I had held my own and received the nod from Dale that I was on the right track. I was exhausted, relieved and thrilled to have passed the test. I learned that once you’ve basked in the glow of Dale’s approval, you were hooked. I also learned that I had become a member of an exclusive club, “Dale’s World.” My fellow club members all know the stories, share the memories and still live by what he taught us.

Dale always said “work smarter, not harder.” That mantra has never failed me just as Dale never failed to be supportive, inquisitive and completely one of a kind!

Happy Birthday dear Dale!

(From left): Dale Pon, Anne Grassi, Scott Webb at WNBC Radio, circa 1980.

Alan Goodman: “I’ll give you 50 bucks to fuck up this guy’s haircut.”

Two stories about Dale Pon –

1. I was in Paris with Dale (who ran our advertising agency – my mentor was now my supplier) and MTV’s VP of Programming, Les Garland. Dale and Les weren’t pals. How tense was it? We had dinner together one night in Paris and Les bought us all expensive Cuban cigars. Outside, Dale waited until Les split off to go to his hotel. The first second Les was out of sight, Dale pitched his cigar in the gutter.

We had flown on 10 hours notice so we could shoot Mick Jagger saying “I Want My MTV!” Dale had already shot a number of other MTV generation stars shouting the line, and some were even biggish. But Jagger was THE “get.” We knew that once Jagger blessed our campaign by participating, we’d get anyone else we would ever want. (We did).

We waited around the hotel a couple of days until we got the bat signal that Mick was ready, and raced over to his hotel to set up. Very quickly, what was supposed to be Dale’s shoot had become Les’ shoot. Dale was pissed, rigid with anger, sequestered with me in the adjoining room forced to watch the proceedings on a monitor. I went over to him to try to diffuse the situation. I can’t remember what I told him. But I remember his response, word for word:

“Do you think I need to hear any of this right now?”

I realized why I was in Paris. I was there, as the client, to witness who threw the first punch.

I had spent every single day of the past four months in the office trying to figure out how to do a job I had no idea how to do. I was exhausted. I had zero interest in the kind of politics and shenanigans that network executives pull, and I didn’t want to be there. That’s it, I decided. I’ve had enough. I’m a writer. I have a talent. I can make a living. I will get back home and I will immediately quit.

I said nothing. I smiled through the rest of the shoot. We stopped at a bistro after we wrapped, and had a lovely dinner and wine with the crew. It was a celebration. For good reason. We had Jagger. I stayed quiet. Silent, even. No one knew of my plans.

When we reached the hotel, Dale drew me aside and sat me down.

“You’re not going to quit,” he said. What?! Huh?! How did he know? On top of everything, the man can read minds??!

“You’re not going to quit. You are at the very beginning of something that will change the world, and you will have a great career. You have to stay there and be a part of that and do what you do really well. You cannot leave. Do you understand? You cannot quit.”

He went up to bed. I went home the next day, and didn’t quit. Instead, I stayed and helped make the thing that changed the world. And it was the beginning of a great career.

2. I went to get my hair cut at Astor Place one day. I walked up to my guy, and there in the chair was Dale. I didn’t know Dale used my guy. Dale looked up at me, looked at the barber, and told him, “I’ll give you 50 bucks to fuck up this guy’s haircut.”

…..

Scott Webb (unedited): “He didn’t just change my life he changed me.”

You never know how things are going to happen.

I was a few short months away from graduating from Sarah Lawrence College with no idea what I would do for a job. I was a kid who had grown up reading and loving comic books. After 4 years at one of the most expensive liberal arts schools I was clueless about a career. My secret wish remained to write comics (mostly because I had no talent to draw). Sarah Lawrence was a great place for me. It was there that I understood how to learn. I was naturally curious and SLC exposed me to a world of ideas and brilliant people (students and teachers). But Sarah Lawrence was not a place where I could start a career path. 5 months from graduating I felt the looming pressure of finding a job and making money. Unlike most of my class at SLC my parents were basically working class folks with a yankee work ethic who expected me to not move back home after graduation.

One January evening, I was talking with my friend Betsy K who had just graduated. She had just returned home from job hunting in the city. She had an interview at WNBC radio with a guy named Buzz Brindle. She said they weren’t hiring but were looking for interns. “What’s an intern?” I asked. I was so naive. She explained that an internship is where you work for free - for experience and to get your foot in the door. WNBC was part of NBC - one of only 3 existing TV networks at the time and my eyes lit up at the idea of of doing anything with a big media company. So I lined up a meeting with Buzz to see if I was intern material.

Buzz was sweet and avuncular and I immediately fell in love with the energy of the radio station. I had to work there. “We’re looking for interns in the promotion department” Buzz explained and I just nodded as affirmatively as possible. “You’ll be working for Dale Pon. He’s very demanding. Do you think you can handle that?” Me? Of course! I’ve got my Yankee work ethic and my Sarah Lawrence education. I thought I was ready for anything. But I was not ready for Dale Pon.

I interned at the station 2 days a week and It appeared I was the only male in Dale’s promotion team. I reported to a woman named Anne Grassi but Dale was the boss. Dale was bigger than life, louder than anyone else in the company and frequently slammed the door to his tiny office. I had never worked in an office before. I found him brilliant, charismatic and intimidating. The other interns and I would huddle in the conference room where we did our work and wait for our next assignment.

I did many things as an intern but my first big assignment for Dale was to create a chart of all the radio stations in New York and rank them by ratings performance over the past 2 years. This was no small task - this was way before computers in offices - and required me to go to the NBC research department to collect dozens of Arbitron ratings books and laboriously extract the data he wanted and lay it out graphically. I wanted to do a great job for him but the truth was that I was terrible at chart making.

I was a liberal arts comic book kid and he had me doing statistical analysis and I knew if I did a bad job I would probably face his famous wrath behind a slammed closed door. But despite my inept chart building, Dale painstakingly taught me how to read the Arbitron reports and methodically went through my work and instructed me how to correct it. I learned more from him over that 5 month internship than I had in my last 2 years of college. But my lesson wasn’t in statistical analysis or radio promotion. Dale had high expectations of me, he believed in me and he was demanding in the pursuit of excellence.

The chart was part of his battle plan to make WNBC #1 in the NYC market and when I understood the big picture of what he was doing I felt even more inspired and willing to do anything in the service of that cause.

It didn’t hurt that he was so smart and insightful. He had the uncanny super power of understand exactly wha the problem was - and he taught me that creativity was the ability to solve problems in fresh, innovative and smart ways. “Do you know why I hired you?” he asked me at the end of my internship. “I didn’t want to hire one of those kids who studied advertising or media in college. Those kids have been ruined. They show up thinking they already know everything - and they haven’t even had a job yet. You didn’t know anything but you were willing to learn and think. Most people don’t know how to think.” Those were some of the most important words I ever heard. They lit a fire of confidence and trust in myself that did not exist before and served me throughout my life, not just in work but in life.

.....

Susan Kantor and David Hyman were on the opposite side of their relationships with him, Susan as a long time account executive in Dale’s agencies, and David as a client. Drew Takahashi, a trusted friend and wonderful creative partner.

I’m particularly fond of the pull quote from David’s recollections. Having had hundreds of restaurant meals with DP over the years, waitress confusion was probably my overriding remembrance.

Susan Kantor has traveled to the upper heights of television since her time with Dale Pon in the 1980s. But when you read her memoir below he prepared her well, as he did with all of us.

Drew Takahashi is a director who co-founded (Colossal) Pictures, San Francisco, one of the most creative production companies of the 1980s and 90s, and one of the key creative suppliers to the first decades of MTV.

David Hyman became my head of marketing at the MTVi Group when the company purchased Sonicnet.com, one of David’s early digital music endeavors (he’s gone on as founder of MOG, one of the seminal digital music streamers).

…..

Susan Kantor: “Lead, don’t follow”. Love, Dale”

Hands down, Dale Pon was my most influential career mentor. Ridiculously smart, enormously passionate, admirably courageous and truthfully a little scary.

We would all brace ourselves for the moment the elevator doors opened and the sound of his fiercely determined walk in his trademarked cowboy boots could be heard. With the first, “good morning” would come a rapid fire interrogation of where we were at on all the “to do’s” he had just given us an hour ago. “Why isn’t it done yet?”

Leslie Fenn-Gershon and I used to joke about putting a Valium in his Perrier so we could get through the day.

When I got to the office in the morning there would often be a “note”, on my chair written with red Sharpie marker on yellow pad lined paper (pre-email), from Dale. His handwriting, had as much conviction as his spoken word. These encouraging notes were meant to guide, remind, teach, mentor or simply, to show his appreciation - often complimentary, occasionally piercing. I still have them.

“Lead, don’t follow”. Love, Dale

“Let’s make things happen!” Love Dale “

“There are children and there are parents. Be a parent.” Love, Dale “

“Everyone wants to be told what to do. Tell them.” Love, Dale “

“We had a good day today. Thank you for your help.” Love, Dale

As we chased rock stars around the globe helping MTV and VH1 revolutionize the music industry, and traversed across the county to position many TV and radio stations in their market, Dale always imparted the importance of what we were doing and demanded we do our very best, every day.

He recognized my innate work ethic, enthusiasm and willingness to do whatever it took to learn and succeed – he also knew how young and naïve I was. Ripe for mentorship and direction. I got both, and then some. The Dale Pon “boot camp” was not always pretty, but it was always colorful, impactful, memorable and most importantly, meaningful.

Not only did he teach me all about advertising and the importance of finding the unique selling proposition and saying it as simply as possible so people would remember it, he showed me the world and how not to be intimidated by it. He made me self-aware of my talents and my shortcomings. He also taught me there was no substitute for doing the work.

To this day, I love you Dale and I thank you for believing in me and giving me the chance of a lifetime.

Belated birthday wishes and hope to see you again soon!

…..

Drew Takahashi: “…he gleefully pushed me to do stuff I hated.“

After seeing you and the MTV crew took me back to good/bad old days. I realized I missed Dale Pon.

Back in the day I didn’t know he was a mentor. I only knew he gleefully pushed me to do stuff I hated. In the end I realized you and he knew what was better for me than what I knew. Someday I’ll learn my lesson.

Steve Linden and I went to shoot with Dale for WNBC [AM]. He asked us to meet him at Windows on the World bar for drinks and dinner. He showed up two hours later and Steve and I were suitably toasted. Then he insisted we join him in a very alcoholic dinner. I was so hungover the morning of the shoot I didn’t know how I could direct the talent, Don Imus. Dale apologized for needing to shoot something first so we didn’t roll my spot until the afternoon. Saved my ass.

Many more memories. The weirdest was him in the Colossal bathroom cleaning crabs of their guts for a surprise picnic in the middle of our animation camera shoot.

…..

David Hyman: “[He] always confused the waitresses.”

Here’s mine:

Dale came up with the name of my company, Gracenote. I think that just came really easy to him.

For a while he was a really great teacher to me. I stubbornly couldn’t take the occasional abuse that went with it, even though it was probably good for me. I was honored to be asked as the voice over for a $30 million tv ad campaign by Dale and encouraged to do voice over work. Thrilling to be informed I had career chops outside of sales & marketing.

Dale is the only person i know that would always order two margaritas for himself (at the same time). It always confused the waitresses.

.....

With Dale Pon @WHN Radio. 1977, New York City.

It was against all odds, but my late 70s stint in country music radio hooked me up with a mentor who made the difference.

Before I got to New York’s 1050 WHN, I was aware of the station. Well aware. Sometime in 1976, my friend/future partner/father of my beloved nephew and niece, Alan Goodman, asked me whether I’d seen some giant subway posters (the top photo above). Of course, I’d noticed them, with large portraits of Johnny Cash, Elvis Presley, The Eagles, Charlie Pride, Loretta Lynn, Kenny Rogers, Olivia Newton-John, Linda Ronstadt and seemingly dozens of other traditional and contemporary stars of the era. There were so many, they seemed to be everywhere. And, they were gorgeous, well designed, in a sea of drop-dead-New York graffiti, hum drum posters, homeless campers and mess, standing out like nothing we’d ever seen down there before. Too bad it was for music we couldn’t stand.

After I got the job with the station’s creative director and ad man, Dale Pon (another story for another time), I found out a bit about the thinking at the station and the advertising campaign. How did a city that was the home of the most sophisticated popular music of all time –to the likes of Duke Ellington, George Gershwin, Irving Berlin, Frank Sinatra– welcome the shitkickers in and become the second most popular radio station in the United States (or the world, for that matter)?

Dale was the supremely gifted Vice President of Creative Services, and he introduced me to Ed Salamon, the station’s innovative program director (Neil Rockoff was the General Manager who brought them together), who used a Top 40 radio approach* to country radio, upending the entire (typical New Yorker’s) notion that country music hadn’t evolved since Hank Williams.

No ordinary radio promotion guy, Dale had been a media buyer at Ogilvy, a radio upstart (a mild description) when the world switched from AM to “progressive” FM, and run radio ad sales teams. In the 80s, he would go on to successfully run his own advertising agency, and together we started one of the most famous media campaigns of all time, “I Want My MTV!”).

Dale Pon wasn’t going to promote the station as cowboy boots and hats, like the last team did. He wanted big ratings for WHN, big ratings. They all did.

* If you’re interested, Ed’s written a book that details his contrarian, and wildly successful, methods called WHN: When New York Went Country.

WHN Radio illustrations from top to bottom, all creative direction by Dale Pon 1977: New York City subway station double truck posters (L-R) Olivia Newton-John (obscured), Linda Ronstadt, Elvis Presley; Olivia Newton-John; Kenny Rogers; Television/Radio Age cover ads; Linda Ronstadt double truck subway poster.

.....

I Want My MTV! Early 1980s, New York City.

MTV had been on the air for six months and we’d fired the storied Ogilvy & Mather and hired Dale Pon’s LPG/Pon (a joint venture with George Lois) at my insistence. Now they were presenting their first trade campaign for advertisers and cable operators and my first big decision was being called into question. America is fast becoming a land of Cable Brats! “It’s audacious! Outrageous! Just like you guys.” George Lois was a big talker, a big seller, and a bit of a smart ass, loudmouth. He was also smart. Even though I knew he designed the “cable brats” thing, it was my brilliant mentor Dale, who’d never steered me wrong creatively or strategically, who was behind the whole thing. His ex-girlfriend, and now one of my best friends, Nancy Podbielniak, had written the copy. Besides, I agreed with Dale that generally trade advertising was a waste of time and bigger waste of money. Consumers were where it’s at, and weren’t all the tradesmen we were hopping to reach consumers too? If we had a knockout punch of consumer advertising our job would be done. I knew he was keeping his powder dry for the big show.

America is fast becoming a land of Cable Brats! There’s an incorrigible new generation out there. They grew up with music. They grew up with television. So we put ‘em both together – for the Cable Brats, and they’re taking over America! They’re men and women in the 18 to 34 age range advertisers want most – plus the increasingly important 12 to 17 segement. The Cable Brats buy all the high volume, high ticket, high tech, high profit products of modern America. They’re strong-willed, cunning, crazily impulsive – an advertiser’s peerless audience. They look and listen and they want their MTV. And they buy, buy, buy. Rock'n'Roll wasn’t enough for them – now they want their MTV. (The exploding 24-hour Video Music Cable Network (and it’s Stereo!)

George was certainly right. It was audacious, and it was a touch outrageous. Somehow, the tone wasn’t quite right, but after the crap Ogilvy had done for us, it was way better. Besides, hidden in there was the sand grain that was going to lead us to our pearl.

.....

I Want My MTV! 1982, New York City.

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I WANT MY MTV! took the phenomenon that had taken over the imaginations of young America and supercharged it into a famous brand with just about everyone in the country. I just googled [in 2010] “I Want My MTV” and it popped up almost 4,760,000 results. Pretty amazing for an advertising campaign that ceased to exist 22 years ago.* Pretty potent. The whole thing was the work of my mentor and friend Dale Pon. He’d been my first boss in the commercial media, at WHN Radio in New York when it was a country music station. He’d recommended me for my job at Warner Amex Satellite Entertainment Company, as the production director of The Movie Channel, and eventually as the first Creative Director of MTV: Music Television. We’d fallen in and out over the years, but in late 1981, when it came time for us to hire an advertising agency again –at first, the top dog had vetoed Dale as not heavy enough for a company like ours– with a lot of help from my immediate boss Bob Pittman, I was able to convince everyone that Dale understood media promotion better than anyone else in America. Anyone. Besides, didn’t he have “insurance” with his partner, legendary adman George Lois?

Dale Pon (via MTV: The Making of a Revolution)

No one had ever encountered an ad executive like Dale, because he had the unique ability to be completely and analytically strategic –”math and magic” Pittman might call it– and be wildly, and intelligently, creative at the same time. An almost unheard of combination, especially in media advertising. Sure, he had a volatile nature, in advertising that was often a given (look at his partner). But it was his strategic, creative abilities that really set him apart.

We’d already done our first trade campaign, the “Cable Brats,“ to the discomfort of most of the suits in the corporate marketing group (Bob and his team, me included, were in programming). But Dale didn’t buy into the efficacy of trade ads anyhow, so now were onto the big show, television advertising. The only problem was that we all recognized that an effective campaign would cost about $10,000,000. Our budget only had $2,000,000, and if we didn’t spend it quickly the corporate gods would probably take it away in the fall.

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"I want my Maypo” commercials, created by John Hubley

Looking back, the core creative ended up being the most straightforward part. Dale’s closest friend and creative partner, Nancy Podbielniak had written the cable brats copy and had a tag line “Rock'n'roll wasn’t enough for them – now they want their MTV!” That rung a bell in George Lois, someone who never missed a chance to abscond with someone else’s good idea, and decided to rip off his own knock off of a Maypo campaign from the 1950s and 60s (animator John Hubley originated it as a set famous animated spots, and George had unsuccessfully knocked it off using sports stars) and presented a storyboard that completely duplicated his version. Rock stars like Mick Jagger were saying “I Want My MTV” and crying like babies, implying they were spoiled children being denied. No one was buying it until Dale let me know that there was no way he’d ask Pete Townshend or Mick to cry for us. “Pride! They need to show their pride in rock'n'roll! They’ll be shouting!” After a little corporate fuss we were able to sell it in.

AMERICA! DEMAND YOUR MTV!

Now, it was the next part that was completely and utterly brilliant. Because Dale came from the school that great creative was all well and good, but unless it could move the business needle, what good was it? In this case, the needle wasn’t ratings (cable TV didn’t have ratings in 1981), but active households, distribution for MTV. Cable operators were all relatively old guys who thought The Weather Channel was a better idea; they’d turned a deaf ear to their younger employees who were clamoring for us instead.

To dramatically simplify the strategy Dale organized, he decided to only advertise in markets where:

• There was enough penetration to justify a modest ad spend.

• But where there were critically large cable operators on the fence about taking MTV.

• And that we could afford a 300 gross rating point buy (three times heavier as any consumer products agency would suggest) for at least four weeks in a row (the traditional media spend would call for pulsing 10 days on and 10 days off).

The “G” in LPG/Pon was Dick Gershon. Along with data from our affiliate group, he crunched and crunched and crunched until he came up with a list of markets and dates we could afford. It was 20% of what we needed, but everyone figured if we could really start to knock off a bunch of cable systems, get them actually launch our network, the domino effect would solidify MTV’s hold on the market forever.

Strategy in place, the creative was back on the front burner. The basic campaign was a great way to get famous rock stars endorsing our channel, but where was the close? What would actually make the 'ka-ching’ we needed? Luckily, back in the day there was only one way to for a homeowner get anything from your reluctant jerk of a cable operator (they figure they held all the cards, why should they do anything to make life better for their consumers?). And what was it that young adults loved to do? Dale knew immediately.

No one alive in front of a television set in the summer of 1982 could ever forget

Pete Townshend, with the wackiest haircut of his career, shouting at the video camera:

“America! DEMAND your MTV! Call your cable operator and say, "I WANT MY MTV!!”

We shot the spots wherever the rock stars would have us for 20 minutes (they still weren’t really sure this MTV: Music Television thing was going to be good for them). Our director and producer, Tommy Schlamme and Buzz Potamkin, got together with some puppeteers to choreograph the 'dancing’ stereo television. I asked my partner to go into the studio to edit the music sections when they weren’t rocking enough, and –poof!– famous advertising.

Nothing to it, yes?

* For comparison, “I Want My Maypo” posts 112,000 results on Google. Or “Where’s the beef?”, another famous 1980’s campaign for Wendy’s returns 176,000 (or if you only use that phrase, which has been appropriated for all sorts of uses, you get 2,640,000).

.....

“Mee, mee, me, meeee!” MTV Networks Online, 1999/2000 New York City

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MTV got Sonicnet in the middle of another transaction they thought would be more important. But as the internet heated up in the business world’s consciousness, Sonicnet.com became something they thought to pay attention to. Which meant that, as president of MTV Networks Online, I was trying to help make the thing successful.

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MTV had also acquired a then-unique personalized radio application. Coupled with Sonicnet, we decided an ad campaign would supercharge the site, something large media folks like us thought was necessary. (It wasn’t.*)

Over a few objections, I hired my brilliant, challenging mentor Dale Pon to create our campaign. Dale had done our the iconic “I Want My MTV” for me in the early 1980s and constantly proved himself to be the most creative and effective media ad man in America. The stunningly talented and perfectly musical film director Tim Newman was already on our online staff (after turning his back on a career that included some of the greatest music videos of all time), so he was really the only person who we thought could direct the spots. Dale hustled our head of marketing, David Hyman, into his one and only –and perfect– voice acting job. (And, I should put in a word for the Sonicnet logo. Designed by AdamsMorioka, from a concept developed by Fred Graver.

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You can see for yourself that Dale knew how conceive big ideas to bring out the best from stars. With Tim in the director’s chair, the results were pretty stunning. And, to cap it, Dale really knew how to use MTVi’s clout to reach for the stars (like Isaac Hayes, James Brown, Joshua Bell, Jewel, Pat Metheny, Sheryl Crow, Beenie Man, Gang Starr, Faith Hill, Lindsey Buckingham, Don Henley, Al Jarreau, Alice Cooper, Blink 182, Kenny Wayne Shephard, Bon Jovi, Buck Cherry, Charlotte Church, Christina Acquilera, Dwight Yoakam, The Ruff Ryders, Eve, Johnny Resnick (The Goo Goo Dolls), kd lang, Buck Cherry, Kelis, Lindsey Buckingham, Melissa Etheridge, Moby, Seal, Sisqo, Static X, SheDaisy, Hillary Hahn, Charlotte Church, Yo Yo Ma, and Sting.)

This campaign, like every other one I’d worked on with Dale over the decades, was a hoot. One of the best things to come out of my one year in the early corporate internet.

…..

* IMHO, one of the great mistakes media companies made during Web 1.0, was thinking that their traditional audience reach would give them huge advantage in building web destinations. They’d made the exact same mistake in the transition from broadcast to cable. It didn’t occur to them in either era that a basic misunderstanding of the newest medium –not knowing what the audience wanted from the upstarts– would not attract anyone to their websites.

And, by the by, the same mistake has been made from popular websites bungling the transition to mobile. And, so it goes.

#Dale Pon

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buzzdixonwriter · 4 years

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A Long But Not Pointless Ramble In Which We Discuss Sci-Fi Flicks

We’re gonna ramble around a bunch of connected topics, so pour yourself a cuppa and enjoy the ride.

. . .

I’m a big fan of 1950s sci-fi B-movies.

Years ago, when I was chatting with the late film historian Bill Warren on this, he made a pertinent observation: 1950s sci-fi B-movies tend to be more fondly remembered than most better mounted and more professionally executed sci-fi films that came afterwards.

There’s a couple of three reasons for this:

The shock of the new -- most of those films pioneered a brand new genre and style, looking far different from previous genre offerings such as Flash Gordon or Things To Come. As such, they score branding points by being first, even if later examples are better made.

They possess a certain naïve charm -- by and large they’re not sophisticated nor exceptionally well thought out (though when they do demonstrate flashes of intellect, it’s always a delight). One feels these films are being made up on the fly (and in a certain sense, they were; see (1) above) and in an odd manner they prove more innocent and thus more fun than those that came later.

Most of them were cheap -- this combines with points (1) & (2) to force most 1950s sci-fi B-movies to focus tightly on one idea / one image to sell the film. As a result there’s a startling clarity of vision in even the most flimsy of productions that’s lacking in later, more elaborate movies. The weaker examples of this genre are those films trying to cover more ground than their cheaper cousins.

. . .

Two cases in point: Jack Arnold’s Tarantula for Universal is a technically better made movie than Bert I. Gordon’s The Spider for AIP, but Tarantula loses focus, dawdling about on character development and sub-plots instead of concentrating on the big ass spider.

The Spider is far weaker in the script / performances / production value departments, but who gives a %#@& ? -- it’s got a big ass spider tearing up the countryside for most of the picture.

Not to put down Arnold and his effects crew’s efforts; they ingeniously figured out a way to not only get their tarantula to realistically crawl over uneven landscapes but actually cast a shadow as it did so, heightening the realism.

Gordon, conversely, simple shot his spider in front of still photos; the shots look as crude as they sound.

But The Spider delivers what Tarantula only teases: An attack by said big ass spider on a population center. Tarantula famously ends with an uncredited Clint Eastwood napalming the monster in the desert on the outskirts of town; The Spider actually goes rampaging through its town, and features one of the most iconic shots of any sci-fi movie: As the big ass spider bears down on her, a terrified woman slams her car door shut on her skirt and in her panic tries to tug it loose instead of simply opening the door again.

George Lucas crowds the screen with thousands of furiously dogfighting CGI starships and that lacks the gut punching impact of that one simple terrifying shot.

. . .

An even more pertinent example can be found in the oeuvre of Irving Block and Jack Rabin (I know, you’re going “Who?” Patience, young jedi; all will be explained below).

Block and Rabin (along with Louis DeWitt, their silent 3rd partner) ran a small special effects house in Hollywood in the late 1940s-50s with an interesting strategy for drumming up business.

They’d devise an interesting yet inexpensive (i.e., clever but cheap) special effects technique, build a story around it, then pitch that story to low budget movie producers with the proviso their firm would be hired to do the special effects for the final film.

This resulted in a number of low budget sci-fi films built around the kernel of an interesting visual, and while they night not have been great examples of the cinematic art, hey certainly created a number of memorable scenes and images from little more than scotch tape and rubber bands.

Unknown World was their take on Jules Verne’s Journey To The Center Of The Earth (no dinosaurs but then again, no Pat Boone, so they came out ahead on that one); Atomic Submarine pitted the US Navy against a UFO; Kronos featured a wholly unique alien invader; and War Of The Satellites staged an epic space opera on a bargain basement budget.

All noteworthy 1950s sci-fi B-movies, but ironically it was the film where their strategy failed -- or rather, only proved 50% successful -- that stands out.

Figuring out how to make footprints appear as if by magic, Block and Rabin devised a story about a spaceship landing on a planet of invisible monsters (as they pointed out, the great thing about invisible monsters is that even the cheapest production can afford millions of ‘em).

Their agent sent the pitch around to all the usual suspects at that time in the low budget indie film universe but, learning another studio not know for low budget sci-fi wanted to hop on the band wagon, sent it there as well.

That studio bought the idea, thanked Block and Rabin for their input, but said they’d let their own B-movie unit team handle the special effects,

And that’s how MGM made Forbidden Planet.

. . .

Today Forbidden Planet is a much beloved classic of the genre, but when released it proved a bit of a disappointment.

Oh, it made money (then and now, studios refuse to fund a production unless they already know in advance they will recoup their expenses and make a profit in advance of actual production) but it didn’t do anywhere near the business they hoped.

Part of this was timing -- it came out after dozens of lesser / cheaper films crowded the market -- but part of it is paradox: It’s just too damn good.

No bones about it, Forbidden Planet was a B-movie for MGM.

In terms of overall quality, however, any MGM B-movie is bound to look like an A-picture from any other studio, and that’s exactly what happened here: A literate, dynamite script; solid performances; top notch production values; bursting at the seams with ideas and incidents and details.

Sci-fi fans loved it, mainstream audiences not so much.

What sci-fi fans perceived as a groundbreaking classic, mainstream audiences viewed as: Flying saucer something something something robot blah blah blah invisible monster.

What audiences today remember when they think of Forbidden Planet is the single most iconic element of the film.

Robby the robot.

He’s what sticks. Robby made a big enough impression to star in his own follow up feature a few years later (The Invisible Boy) as well as guest star appearances on The Twilight Zone, Lost In Space, Columbo, and scores of other movies / TV shows / personal appearances.

Pick an iconic element. Stick with it.

. . .

The trick to doing memorable sci-fi movies is keeping the key visual elements down to as few sharply defined items as possible.

Star Wars (i.e., the unnumbered original release) is even more crowded in detail than Forbidden Planet but it holds its iconic visual elements down to a crucial handful: Masked villain in black. Laurel & Hardy robots. Friendly yeti. Glow swords. Big bad artificial planet.

Every other visual element serves those, and while they provide detail and texture, they aren’t distractions.

Seriously, jettison the plot of the original Star Wars and reconfigure it from the ground up with those elements and it still winds up pretty much the same film, just set on different worlds.

This is why later films in the series, despite bigger and bigger revenues, lack the memorable freshness and emotional clarity of the original (getting cluttered up with superfluous characters and vehicles inserted just to sell toys doesn’t help, and I post this as one of the original writers for the G.I. Joe and Transformers series).

To reiterate: If you want to make an impression, less is more.

. . .

We’re going to amble on over to a parallel path and talk about ultra-low budget / no budget / homemade / hand-crafted / DIY film making, particularly in the sci-fi arena.

I watch a fair amount of lo-to-no budget sci-fi on Amazon Prime and YouTube. Many of these are done for pure love of the genre and the film making process, and from that POV of producers and participants just wanting to have fun, they’re modestly enjoyable.

From the POV of actual good film making and sci-fi…not so much. (There are exceptions and we’ll get to one of those; patience, young jedi…)

The overwhelming bulk of these films -- features and shorts -- are pretty derivative.

I don’t mean “unoriginal” the way 80-90% of professionally produced media is unoriginal, I mean “derivative” as in trying specifically to re-create something someone else did first…

...and better.

And this is in addition to the plethora of Star Trek / Star Wars / Dr. Who / superhero fan films out there; those are a separate though related phenomenon.

Rather, it’s the unmpeenth Alien ripoff / the 400th E.T. variant / the latest Mad Max clone / the most current example of last decade’s biggest hits.

They’re generally not that good taken on their own, no matter how much fun the makers are having.

For me the nadir of such films are those done by film makers imitating bad movies by deliberately making a bad movie.

Don’t do that, folks.

Please.

Don’t squander time and talent doing substandard work.

I’m not saying don’t make the kind of film (or draw the kind of art, or write the kind of story) you want to make; I’m just saying don’t deliberately make a piss-poor job of it.

Block and Rabin may never have made a truly good movie but not because they weren’t trying!

Cheap films? Yes. Exploitable films? Yes.

But films meant to be as good as they could make them.

There’s an MST3K notorious bad 1950s sci-fi movie called Teenagers From Outer Space. Tom Graef, its writer / producer / director / editor / co-star was a former film student wanting to break into the big time so he made this cheesy movie to the utmost of his ability.

And lordie, it ain’t good…

…but by gawd, he was trying.

The folks who make deliberately bad pastiches of substandard B-movies were always a sore point for Bill Warren.

“The original film makers weren’t trying to make a bad movie!” he’d rave.

So please, don’t do deliberately shoddy work and try to explain it away by calling it a “parody”.

The Rocky Horror Picture Show is a parody, and everybody in it is aiming for the centerfield fence, turning in A-level performances.

I know it’s fun making models and cobbling together costumes and props and sets from junk, and recruiting friends and family to have fun making a movie, and if your audience is just going to be those friends and family, fine.

But if you want to be seen and appreciated by a wider audience, have some respect for them…and your own abilities as a film maker.

. . .

All of which brings us in a roundabout fashion to The Vast Of Night, a recent ultra-low budget sci-fi film that asks the non-musical question “What would a Twilight Zone mash-up of X-Files and Close Encounters Of The Third Kind look like?”

“Pretty impressive,” is the answer.

Let’s start with the Achilles’ heel of most lo-to-no budget DIY productions: The cast.

The Vast Of Night enjoys impeccable casting, a;; the way down to the most minor roles.

I can’t stress enough how important this is for small productions.

Actors give you more bounce for your buck than anything else on your budget. Good actors can make mediocre material bearable, they can bring good material to full blown life.

In The Vast Of Night’s case, the two leads -- Jake Horowitz as Everett, an all night DJ in a tiny late 1950s New Mexico town, and Sierra McCormick as Fay Crocker, the local substitute late night phone operator -- play off each other with delightful on screen chemistry.

No kidding, I’d watch these two characters go grocery shopping for an hour and a half, that’s how well Horowitz and McCormick play off each other.

Next, the story. Obviously story and screenplay come before casting, but in the final analysis an okay story is far better served by a good cast than a good story by an okay cast.

Screenwriters James Montague and Craig W. Sanger do a good job with their script for The Vast Of Night. As noted, it’s far from original but is fleshed out with enough distinctive elements to let the cast find plenty to work with.

For aspiring film makers, the script is typically the least expensive part of the process, and if you don’t like your draft you can always chuck it out and start afresh,

Finally, it’s okay to look inexpensive but don’t look cheap.

You can get away with a stark cinema verité style if that’s what the material calls for but you need to keep a consistent style and tone throughout.

A lot of DIY films do themselves a grave disservice by spending a lot of time / energy / money on a prop / costume / special effect that calls undo attention to itself by being so much better than everything surrounding it.

Director Andrew Patterson keeps things stylish while clamping a lid on its budget; this good pre-production planning pays off with a consistency of style and tone that helps keep the audience engaged, their disbelief suspended.

The Vast Of Night is what I refer to as a “minimum basic movie” i.e., the lowest bar you should shoot for with your own film making.

It’s far from a deathless classic, but it’s a fun ride.

And speaking of fun rides…this ramble is o-v-e-r.

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cards-onthetable · 5 years

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Emotional roller coaster

I just have so, so, so many feelings about last night’s episode. I’m not going to sit here and waste time onhow Maria Baez is too good for this trashcan show, or how ridiculous it is that every damn thing is a huge conflict of interest now (Erin being sent to deal with her dad re: some controversial issue? Frank saying “if I can’t get my daughter to do what I want...” or something like that? Me still watching when every scene nauseates me? Gross x 3). Today I’m just going to talk about Jamko. I went back and forth between (almost) 👀😍 and like, crying in misery every scene so join me on this emotional roller coaster of ridiculousness.

Scene: crossing paths in the precinct between shifts

OMG this scene is actually almost cute.

Eddie in a t-shirt (even if it’s pink)? Jamie in short sleeves? Omg omg 😍

“You look like a partner I used to have.” Is this... an attempt... at old style bantery Jamko?!

I can’t figure out what’s up with Jamie even after watching multiple times (thanks @jamkosarmyoftwo). He looks better/less dead than he has in a while (maybe it’s the short sleeved uniform? 👀👀) But lol his voice/inflection/line delivery is still a little off.

It feels noteworthy that not only did Eddie volunteer to be the decoy driver in this operation to catch the cab passenger — the whole operation is her idea.

A steak sandwich waiting in the fridge after a long night at work? This is like the first Real Evidence that Jamie actually loves her. Let me tell you, I’d pretty much marry anyone who feeds me after a night shift on the spot.

Eddie waving at him is cute not gonna lie. 😍😂

Sidenote: what’s the status of Jamie and Eddie’s relationship at the precinct? We know their superiors know they’re married at this point, but what about the other cops? Are we just ignoring that little detail they spent a year apparently hiding? Yes? Okay cool.

Scene: Eddie and Witten at another cab robbery

😂😂😂 someone else besides Eddie now gets to be the STEP BACK yeller! Amazing! Eddie’s moving up in the NYPD y’all.

Why is it daylight? Is it the next day after the precinct scene? What happened to these middle-of-the-night robberies? I have many questions about this, folks.

I legit cracked up when Eddie goes to check on the victim and he falls forward, dead. Is this meant to be some comic relief? Why do I watch this show?

Scene: Jamie and Eddie’s apartment

Eddie’s making Jamie dinner after he left her a steak sandwich. Again, I have questions about the sequence of these scenes... Eddie’s already had another shift so it has to be the next day right? Nothing makes sense.

I’ll try to ignore Eddie choosing to make Jamie a damn salmon (because that’s a reasonable, quick-ish weeknight dinner before rushing off to work) and apparently only making one (would she not have like, fed herself too???) because omg for a second, they’re almost cute 👀👀

I would’ve liked to see a quick little kiss when Jamie walks in like they’re some kind of normal couple but it’s whatever, I guess

“Aw, you didn’t have to do thaaaattttt!” Again with the weird inflection. Maybe this means he’s trying for something other than ugh-just-get-through-the-scene-without-dying? But lol.

Aaaaand then we go from almost-cute to cringey super fast.

Eddie asks about the decoy operation (reasonable) and then gets weirdly upset about the wrong things when Jamie updates her.

Old Eddie would easily have understood the selection of a decoy who closely resembles the victim profile. Like don’t even with me @ her getting all butthurt over not being chosen for a role where they need a male.

It bothers the fuck out of me that Eddie reacts the way she does to Jamie getting the driver job. Again, objectively, she should realize why she was passed over. And Old Eddie would not have expected Jamie to give her this ~special treatment~ she’s asking for here when she says he should have told the sergeant that she wanted that job. And... she wants it because the last scene “got to her”? And she claims Jamie’s being “overprotective”? God I hate it all.

Talk about an inappropriate ~work-life balance~ when they’re having these emotional Disagreements about work-related matters at home. Gross gross gross.

Oh we’re mentioning last year’s decoy op when Jamie jumped out of the damn bushes to save Eddie (which was totally overprotective and inappropriate)? GOOD LET’S file this away for later shall we?

Now Eddie’s basically storming out. Nice. I hate it. I feel like this ~argument~ was done completely the wrong way and I can’t take either of them seriously right now.

Scene: family dinner

SPOILER ALERT: I HATE EDDIE IN THIS SCENE TOO

Remember that time Eddie waltzed into Jamie’s apartment all “you got ESPN?” And that deleted scene where she tried to win Mets tickets? And the general idea in earlier seasons that she’s a sports fan?

SO WHY THE FUCK does she get this horrified look on her face all “that’s part of the game?!” when Sean says he hit the opposing pitcher with a pitch?

Yes dude. Payback in the form of intentionally hitting opposing players with pitches is a part of baseball. I will withhold my personal opinion on this topic but the point is, yeah, it’s a common thing in the game of baseball. So gross @ Eddie up in here acting like she’s never heard of that before and she’s all horrified by it. I don’t buy it.

“Where’d you get that, G Gordon Liddy?” Lol when I asked @ontherockswithsalt who tf G Gordon Liddy is, she was all “ASK YOUR DAD THAT’S WHO” so cool @ Eddie casually referencing this Watergate dude when she was not born yet when that went down.

0/10 I hate it.

Scene: decoy discussion after dinner

WAIT Tell me more about Jamie’s past sports gambling. 👀👀

Last time we talked about this, Eddie was pissed that Jamie was chosen instead of her and accused Jamie of being overprotective. And here she is being overprotective asking if there are any safer alternatives? 🙃 I’m tired.

Yes please Jamie. Explain to Eddie ~how the job works~. Good good.

They don’t annunciate at all in this scene and I can barely understand what they’re saying. Glad to have you back, Will “just-get-through-the-scene-without-dying” Estes.

Sidenote: Lol @ his short sleeved button down. Dad Look on point.

Scene: DECOY OP OH BOY HERE WE GO 🙃

Jamie picks up the suspected perp in broad daylight with a huge ass black van not at all discreetly following him. Nice.

Eddie anxiously listening to police radio somewhere in her own car. Nice.

“Just drive.” Lol @ everything.

By the way cabs in NY have partitions between the driver and the backseat to protect the driver so this entire premise is bullshit and they would’ve done better to make it like, Uber drivers getting whacked or something. but who cares about realism?

“What the hell are you going?” Like he’s so damn casual @ having a gun held to his head. I’m dying. 😂😂😂

OH NO THE HUGE ASS BLACK VAN LOST THE FEED. WHATEVER WILL THEY DO?! Also highkey dying @ this ridiculous graphic. 😂🙃

The fuck @ this entire car ...chase? Whatever you’d call it when Jamie is driving with his knees for blocks and blocks while holding an armed attacker at bay.

HE’S WEARING CARGO PANTS GOD SPARE ME.

EDDIE TO THE RESCUE WHAT THE FUCK?

The “find my phone app” is more reliable than NYPD technology? Nice.

And then Jamie rolls his eyes before they do this weird jerky grab-each-other thing and I hate it all.

SOME ISSUES: Eddie listening in on a police operation while off duty. Eddie using the fucking FIND MY PHONE APP to interfere with said police op. Eddie shooting a perp while off duty.

Normally this would prompt a huge ass investigation into all of Eddie’s activities, including off duty discharging her gun. This seems like very clear evidence that they can’t safely continue working out of the same precinct. Yet I’m sure there will be zero consequences and we’re just supposed to be all 😍😍 @ Eddie saving the day.

It’s all so ridiculously absurd, y’all. I can’t take this shit seriously. I mean is the show even trying anymore? When I watched this scene live last night, I literally thought “wow this is it, this is where I stop watching Blue Bloods.” And I mean that may or may not be true but like... I hate it so much.

Scene: Eddie and Jamie’s apartment again. Sitting Like This on the couch.

Lol @ this casual transition from watching a cooking show to “that’s the second time you’ve saved my life. Thanks.” 🙃🙃🙃

This discussion that “if we accept the risks for ourselves we have to accept the risks for each other” is actually a great line and it’s a thing they should’ve talked about a long time ago, way before getting married. But that doesn’t mean I’m cool with Eddie taking it on herself to be Jamie’s guardian angel (who the fuck basically calls themselves someone else’s guardian angel? 🙃) for the rest of their careers.

THIS KISS. Geez I’m not here for it. Like every kiss they’ve had since getting engaged has looked just like the 2 kisses they had before that. I need to feel something different in these married people kisses okay?

IN SUMMARY: These contrived Jamko work situations are about to get really old really fast and I need a change if I’m going to keep tolerating this bullshit on my tv every Friday night. They don’t have a healthy coping strategy re: each other’s inherent risks as cops and they don’t have a healthy coping strategy to allow them to work out of the same precinct and constantly be aware of/involved in the other’s work activities. It’s stupid from a marriage standpoint, stupid from a work and realism standpoint, and ridiculous all around. Do better, folks. I hate it.

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umbralich · 5 years

Text

History pt. 6 - Confinement

Part 5 <---

Lareine had been thunderstruck by how easily the other knight and the cart driver had just let Varg take her with him, despite her pleas of helping her away from him. Even in the middle of her outburst of feelings she had realized what it must've looked like to them. There had been her, wet-headed, wearing old, shabby pajamas, men's winter coat and slippers. And then there had been Varg looking like some damn king.

"Where are you taking me?" Lareine snapped at Varg, while he was leading her back home through the silent Ishgard and having a firm grip of her better arm.

"It should be obvious", Varg stated without looking at her and sounding somewhat tired.

"Leggo of me!"

"I would, but then you would flee."

Like showing her a big fat middle finger, Lareine's body decided to suddenly make her cough uncontrollably. She tasted metal and saw few drops of blood falling on the paving below her. Varg lifted her easily like a sack of flour and started to carry her. Lareine cursed and tried to punch and scratch him with her better arm, but Varg managed to grab it with a couple of his fingers, and for the rest of the way held her arm tightly against her.

"Oh, thank the Twelve you found her", Arsene exclaimed while jogging towards them when they were only about a couple of blocks away from the estate. He didn't have any outdoor garments on him except for boots.

"I can not take credit for that", Varg said dully. "She just happened to pass my checkpoint."

The au ra was walking fast, but his pace was slow compared to Arsene's so far. The butler was catching his breath while walking next to them.

"I'm at loss for words...", he panted. "She was quiet as a mouse. Besides I didn't believe she would do anything like -"

"Not your fault, Arsene", Varg said, yet again without looking at the one he was talking to. "I think we have given her way too much special rights considering the state she is in."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Lareine snarled.

"What exactly is it that you even want, little miss?" Varg asked without answering the question, slightly annoyed. "If memory serves, it was you who asked me to help you. I am helping, and suddenly you behave like it would have been me who left you to die in that alley."

For a long while Lareine didn't say anything. She just bit her lip and tried to fight back tears. When they got back in and Arsene had closed the door behind them, she found her voice again.

"I know who you are and what you do", she pronounced victoriously, like she'd have uncovered some big and dirty secret. "You're an inquisitor. You have torture tools laying around like they'd be some godsdamned cutlery. I bet you have a whole arsenal of them in your cellar."

At this point Varg cast a questioning look towards Arsene. It was the butler's turn to sigh deeply.

"She found one from your drawer. I returned it into the cellar", he said, sounding suddenly tired as well.

"A-ha!" Lareine cried out, glancing alternately from Varg to Arsene. "You're not denying it are you?"

"It is one of my jobs", Varg admitted, sounding somewhat reluctant. "And since you seem to be so worried of my... customers, perhaps I should take you along the next time I interrogate them. You would see with your own eyes what kind of delicate, exquisite and misunderstood individuals they are, when they spit on you, mock their victims and brag about the amount of people they have raped or murdered. A bath, please." He was forcing his tone as polite as possible, while carrying Lareine towards the bathroom.

Arsene hastened his steps in front of them.

"What, you gonna grope me again?" Lareine giggled. Tears were running loose the more she tried to hold them back.

"You are in good enough shape to do it yourself", Varg stated. "Arsene, stay with her and make sure she does not do anything strange."

The au ra took her into the bathroom and put her down next to a bathtub, where hot, foaming water was halfway ready. Arsene was checking the room and its closets, and picking up everything possible she could harm herself or someone else with. When he was done, his hands were full of toothbrushes, razor blades, scissors and the like. Varg took them from him.

"Make it quick. You should not be standing", he commanded Lareine and left the room. Arsene closed the door after Varg had gone.

"What the hells? You gonna watch then?" Lareine exclaimed while painstakingly undressing herself.

Without saying anything and just looking at Lareine accusingly, Arsene reached towards the nearest wall and pulled a partition between them.

Soon after Lareine had bathed, mostly dried herself and gotten dressed in some ages ago deceased grandma's old nightgown, Varg appeared into the doorway. He had taken off his armor and switched into his casual clothes: black jodhpurs and vest, and white blouse. While Lareine was still drying her hair, Varg was waiting and snapping the doorframe with his long claws. After the au ra's arrival Arsene had disappeared somewhere. Lareine prolonged her operation for as long as it was plausible.

When she returned into her room - escorted - Arsene was there. There were also bars on the windows. For a moment she just stared at them with her mouth open. She hadn't heard any noise, so they couldn't have been just installed. When she had escaped, she hadn't paid any attention to the estate's appearance. Perhaps they had been outside and averted out of sight while they weren't needed or something. At least a chain and a huge lock in the middle of them suggested so.

"Is this some sick joke?" Lareine asked, looking sequentially from Varg to Arsene.

"I have to admit I have wanted to ask the same thing", Varg said in a harsh tone. "Today you have undone in mere hours a great deal of the progress you have made during the last few weeks. Happy now?"

"You can't keep me here against my will!" Lareine notified, distancing herself a bit from the two others.

"You can be certain keeping you around is the most displeasing thing I can currently think of", Varg explained, crossing his arms. "However, you have not convinced me you are capable of taking care of yourself. And I simply can not let you roam around Ishgard or any place for that matter, and tell folks in your sorry state how you used to be my patient."

Lareine saw a sudden flashback of herself a while ago sitting in the cart and she felt her whole face warming up. She was certain she looked like a ripe tomato.

"I assure you you will get out, little miss, when you stop hurting yourself and start behaving like an adult", Varg announced, sounding like it was his last word. "It is completely up to you for how long it will take."

He walked out and Arsene followed behind him, closing the door after them. There was a soft click, before their steps receded and a deep silence fell into the room. Lareine stood there for a while, just staring at the door. Then she glanced towards the windows, carefully limped next to them and studied the bars. She had absolutely no hope to get out. Strangely enough, she wasn't scared. She was purely furious.

There was a tray of food, cooked undoubtedly by Arsene, and a glass of juice on the table. The sunflower was no longer the same one it had been on the day Lareine had awoken for the first time in the estate. It was one of the last ones picked from the garden before the weather had gotten too cold for them. Lareine was tired, her body was aching all over, and she felt like she was starving.

Some small voice of reason in her head told her to eat and go to sleep, but she didn't want to listen. Instead, she took the flower pot and threw it across the room, making it clatter loudly. She also took the glass and threw it at the nearest wall. The sound of breaking glass was like music to her ears. Then went the plate, though it didn't make as nice sound as the glass did. The reddish, running sauce smeared the wall and it looked almost like blood in the dark. The tray was metallic, and although it didn't break, it made such a loud clank while hitting the wall it made Lareine wince.

After that the days that followed had eventually become hazy in Lareine's mind. The ruckus upstairs had caused Varg and Arsene come rushing back into Lareine's room. She thought to herself later it must've been quite a sight: the floor full of shards of glass, sauce on the wall, one potato over here and another one over there, all movables except for the table and cupboard scattered all over the place, and Lareine standing in the middle of it all with messy hair and dressed in her shabby nightgown.

She remembered there had been some sort of scuffle. The men had tried to seize her, and she had attacked. And since she didn't have time to grab any shards of glass, and she didn't have her own weapons anymore, she had used what she had: her teeth and nails. Lareine had landed some punches and made some scratch marks, and she had been very proud of them. Especially considering both Varg and Arsene were twice as big as her and gramps was also very skillful in close combat.

At some point Lareine had been alone with Arsene for a while: he trying to hold her and she trying to escape. When Varg had returned, he had carried straps. Arsene had managed to drag struggling Lareine onto the bed, and together they had tied her down. The memory was quite peculiar, since it was the first time Lareine remembered seeing some sort of authentic emotion on Varg's face. The men had been halfway done with the straps. Lareine had been screaming and kicking like she'd been a pig taken to slaughter. The elezen had proceeded to tie her remaining free leg and the au ra her arm.

Usually Lareine had seen Varg's mere face intimidating because of his high cheekbones, angular features, his narrow, dried lips and dark markings and circles around his eyes. Appearance like that combined with his usual stern demeanor didn't actually give the warmest and friendliest possible impression. Now however, Lareine had suddenly noticed Varg looking as terrified as she had been angry. And she had been very angry. Then, against all her possible expectations what he would do next, he had dropped the strap from his hands and marched out of the room, looking unwell.

She had heard few running steps and then sudden, violent vomiting in the corridor. Arsene had quickly turned to look at the door, tied the last strap left loose and then run after him.

"By the gods, are you alright?" There had been no answer. "Should I call someone?"

"Absolutely not!"

They had walked farther away from Lareine's room, so she hadn't heard what they had said or what had happened after that. Lareine had laid on her bed unable to move for a good while, until Arsene had arrived to clean up the mess mostly Lareine had caused. For the next couple of days, it had been only Arsene taking care of her. He of course hadn't been able to give her the stronger painkiller, so she had to get by with milder elixirs. It had sucked. Lareine had started to appreciate the better stuff now that it was no longer taken for granted she could get it.

Varg hadn't visited her much. Perhaps even less than he had used to until that point. He only appeared once in a while to either give her her medicine or checking her wounds. Every time he had avoided looking at Lareine in the eye or talking with her. He had just asked some essential questions, but apart from them they hadn't spoken with each other.

After a week had passed, her straps had been untied. To be honest, Lareine didn't have the smallest clue why she had behaved like that in the first place. A couple of days had been quite nice, like old times. She and Arsene had enjoyed some tea and pastries and Lareine had helped him in some minor chores. Then her memory suddenly had a mostly blank clip again, and next time she awoke, she was back in her bed, bound.

"What's wrong with me?" she whispered, while laying alone at one night, and looking at the waning moon shining through her windows. "Who is that scary person inside me? The one that hurts others... that's definitely not me. It can't be..."

"Shut up", she whispered right after, in a different tone. "Get the hells out of my head."

---> Part 7

#final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #viera #lareine #elezen #arsene #stories #tw: mental illness #tw: violence

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goliath-de-senfina-sango · 5 years

Link

Fights, both physical and verbal, abound! Local Science Boy Tired of Friends' Arguement. Local Astronaut Trying Real Hard not to die Here. Local Ghost Hunting Family Talk SCIENCE and Local Art Boy Does Research

Danny and Tucker sat in the vice principal’s office. On the wall next to the door was an array of monitors that showed security feeds. Across from it was a desk with a globe and the filing cabinet that Lancer was going through at the moment. If Danny had to guess the chairs were intentionally made to be uncomfortable. An added punishment for even being there.

“Tucker Foley,” Lancer droned. “Chronic tardiness. Talking in class. Repeated loitering by the girls’ locker room. Danny Fenton. 34 dropped beakers in the last month. Banned for life from handling all fragile school property, but no severe mischief before today. So, gentlemen, tell me.” Lancer set down the folders he was reading from on his desk and leaned forward to yell in their faces. “Why did the two of you conspire to destroy the school’s cafeteria?”

“Dash started it when he threw his mud pie into the back of my head!” Danny was going to need a thorough shower later, but for now, turning his head to display that he’d been hit in the head with mud was enough for him.

“He literally tried to make Danny eat the mud.” This is why Tucker was Danny’s best friend. He and Danny were on the same wavelength.

“Besides, destroy the cafeteria is pretty hyperbolic, don’t you think?” Please lighten up on us because I used a vocab word.

“Mr. Baxter, as well as everyone caught on camera participating in the food fight is going to be punished for it. You two, however, are taking the first of it with him.” Lancer stood and walked out the door. “I’m going to fully map out your punishments when I return. Mr. Baxter, make sure they don’t leave.”

“We gotta find Sam!” Tucker got up and went around Lancer’s desk. By the time Danny was next to him, Tucker was already going through the security files on Lancer’s computer. “Do not ask why I have his password or how. We don’t have time for that. Oh, thank gods, this place has security cameras in the weirdest places.” On the screen, Tucker tracked the meat sweep through the school until it settled in one place. “Directly below us. Got enough juice?”

Danny closed his eyes and reached inside, stretching into the void of cold winds and vast darkness, and dragged himself into it. It swept outward over his body in a flash and for a moment he had to reorient himself. Danny grabbed onto Tucker and intangibility filled them both. They fell through the floors and stopped right above the floor of the basement. “Is this… a meat locker under the school?”

“See, this is the kinda stuff that Sam needs to get changed. Where they store their food, not what food groups are fed to us.” Tucker started walking, and Danny stood beside him.

“This is like the time she convinced our middle school teachers to hold a Sadie Hawkins dance when no one felt like doing a dance.” Danny rolled his eyes and looked around. “Except this time she’s the one who got kidnapped instead of her nabbing us. Also, repeated loitering by the girls’ locker room?”

“I figured that’d be a great place to meet someone to ask for a date.”

“How are you both a genius and a dumbass at the same time, Tuck?”

Before the geek could valiantly defend his honor, they heard a voice of strained cheer. “My dear child, meat is good for kids. It helps them grow and makes them smile.” The boys looked around the corner and saw Sam stuck in a pile of meat that was definitely inedible now. The Lunch Lady was floating in front of her, a fish and a chicken leg held up in either hand. “Why won’t you eat it?”

“We don’t need meat. That’s fact.” Sam never was one to back down when she was championing something. It was something that Danny admired about Sam. He never thought that food was the hill Sam was willing to literally die on though.

“Silence!” The ghost’s voice echoed and that wind picked up yet again. Danny wondered if he could call up special effects like that for Halloween. “You need discipline, manners, respect. You know where that comes from? Meat! Fish, or chicken?”

“Plus, most of the nutrients we need are in fish and chicken,” Tucker muttered. Or at least, he probably thought it was muttering. What it happened to be was loud enough for the ghost to hear them, eyes bright red eyes turned toward the boys.

“I’ll deal with the ghost, you get Sam out of that meat pile.” Danny ran as fast as he could. His fist reared back and collided with the ghost’s head harder than he expected it to. She was launched into the wall. Danny immediately followed up with a kick to the face. The Lunch Lady grabbed onto his ankle and held Danny up while floating upright.

“This is why you need meat! You’re skin and bones!” She then tossed Danny across the room, and at the last second, he phased through the wall. And the ground. It took a couple seconds of carefully making the tips of his gloves more - or less, it was still hard to tell - real to pull himself back up to the basement.

There, Danny found shish kabobs beings flung at him. Going completely on reflex, Danny separated his torso from his legs and the deadly food sank into the concrete behind him. There were even cracks in the wall. While Danny pulled himself back together, an enraged Lunch Lady ghost let out a furious roar, and all the meat in the storage locker rose up. Even the meat Tucker was pulling off of Sam in chunks rose up off of her and swirled around the ghost in a storm. Sam and Tucker got closer to Danny until they were in arm’s reach, and the 20-foot behemoth of meat with green torches for eyes roared down at them.

“Fuck no.” Danny grabbed his friends and the chill of invisibility and intangibility rushed through them all again. Danny pulled and snap the gravity tethering Danny and his friends to the Earth was undone, and Danny flew through the wall to the outside, flying faster when he heard a loud crash.

“Thanks, Danny, Tuck.” Sam shot them both a big grateful smile. “You must be exhausted, ghost boy. Fighting in ghost mode, yanking us through walls. Holy shit, Danny you’re flying!”

“What would give ya that idea?” Danny yawned in the middle of that sentence but felt it was irrelevant. But then, everything went dark as they tumbled into a heap on the grass. And then it went silent.

Tucker and Sam stare at each other. For a handful of moments, neither is entirely sure what they should do. Sam could've died. Her best friends could have died. How is a teenager even meant to process that? She wants to curl up on the ground and hide from everything in that moment, will all the nasty reality that is Ghosts away. But Tucker is bent over Danny, and Danny is out cold. So she packs away the emotions, cools her shit, and bends down. "You get his legs, I'll take his shoulders. FentonWorks?"

They get him there. Danny's parents are downstairs, working on something. They get Danny on his bed, and Sam slumps against the door. Tucker and Danny skipped a detention essentially and all three have skipped school. So Tucker goes down to erase the Fenton's voice mailbox and sends out a bug to his own. Sam has no clue why he has that ready but asks if he can do it with her folks' line. He asks for a few minutes. The silence passes, Tucker gets on Danny's laptop. He always fled to the tech when he needed somewhere safe. Eventually, he asks. "You ok? Today went to shit."

"No, I don't think I am. I’m pretty sure she was going to crush me to death under all that meat that should’ve been stored in a far more sanitary manner. I’ve got bruises and meat juice all over me and I need a nap and a shower, not in that order.” Sam checked Danny's closet and found something she'd left there a couple of months back. "I'm gonna do that actually. Keep an eye on him?" Tucker grunted in acknowledgment. That was the best she'd get so Sam grabbed a spare towel from the dresser and headed to the shower.

When Sam got back she looked over Tucker's shoulder. Images of old ladies in familiar-looking uniforms were all over the screen. "Looking her up?"

"If we know more about her then we can talk it out with her right?" Tucker's fingers paused over the keyboard. He stretched, looking over at her. "Right?"

"Probably. Looking to work that Foley Charm on her?" Sam elbowed him lightly in the ribs. Tucker clutched his chest as though he'd been broken. Thank gods for that smile on his face. "Tell me you aren't planning to flirt with her. Danny might get jealous." Tucker snorted.

"I don't think Danny is into old ladies who occasionally burst into flames." Tucker went back to typing and clicking, screen light glaring off his lenses. "So, my theory is that ghosts draw on ambient energy to sustain themselves. When we went into that fight my phone was on like… 50 percent. When we got here it was at 17. So maybe we should carry batteries on us?"

"And our wrist rays." Sam was never letting herself be helpless like that again. "what've you got on her so far?"

"She said the menu hasn't changed in 50 years and she wasn't kidding. So I'm looking back at people employed by Casper back when she was alive, and hoping I can recognize her facial structure."

"Impressive." Sam sighed and looked over at Danny.

He zipped up his suit. Sam made a face at him and pulled off the logo of his dad's face. "You can't go around with this on your chest." He agreed. If Danny ever met aliens of the extradimensional kind, he didn't want them to see his dad's face plastered on him. Danny walked into the tunnel that was his parents' ghost portal, looking all around it. The whispers of those other worlds called out in his head again. As he walked deeper into the portal, Danny saw nothing wrong. Not a nut or bolt out of place. He got to the end. It was dark. Too dark to see anything. Turning back, he kept a hand on the wall to steady himself. His foot hit a raised panel, and Danny leaned to the left for support. There was a click.

Danny opened his eyes and saw Sam looking down at him. Not unusual. The soreness in his muscles, however, was. Danny stopped mid-stretch and winced. "Oh. Right. 20-foot meat monster." Tucker was at his desk, turned around in the chair and giving him that frown he had when Dash had slammed Danny into a locker. "How long was I out for?"

"Four days." Tucker reached under Danny's bed and lifted up a bag of Nasty Burger.

"Four Days?!"

"Nah, like, 2 hours dude." Tuck chuckled and handed him a wrapped burger. "You need this dude, that fight took a shit ton outta you."

“Don’t I know it.”�� Danny unwrapped the burger and sank his teeth in. He'd been hungrier than he thought. It felt like a blink before the burger was gone. "Thanks, dude, I needed that. We basically skipped lunch, didn't we?" That thought had a horrible domino effect and Danny tore the burger wrapping in half. "Fuck, my parents are gonna kill me!"

"I erased the voicemail from your box, mine, and Sam's. Don't worry about that."

"Speaking of, how ya doin Sam?" Danny turned, looking his friend over and wincing at the bruises on her arms. “Fuck, the meat pile did that?”

“Yeah, turns out being grabbed up by a bunch of proceeded corpses can do some damage.” Sam shrugged. “It’s nothing I can’t fix with some concealer and sleeves.”

“It’s still warm though,” Danny said. “You good baking yourself?”

“The heaters in the school barely work, and it’s nearly October, Danny. Things have cooled down plenty.” Sam frowned and looked over to Tucker. “Do head injuries affect the perception of temperature?”

“I’m sure they can. If only someone hadn’t summoned up a meat-obsessed lunch lady with a menu change.” Tucker paused and raised a brow. “Actually, how in the hell did you even get them to change it? Nevermind the why.”

“The why, Tucker, is that schools need to promote healthier changes in the food we consume.” Sam had that fire in her eyes. Again. Danny let out a long sigh, which went ignored by his bickering friends.

“And removing an entire food group from the menu was your solution?”

“It’s one we don’t even need Tucker! Do you know how inefficient the transfer of calories from meat into our bodies is?”

“We need protein, Sam! If there’s anything that the Lunch Lady said truthfully it’s that! Look at Danny! He barely gets any protein, you can see how that’s turned out for him.”

“My dude, I’m not the only skinny person here.”

“And whether or not we have meat and protein isn’t your decision to make for us all, Sam!” Tucker glared balefully at the vegan and stood up from Danny’s chair. “You had to be an individual and have all your individual needs met over what anyone else wanted, didn’t you? No one but you even wanted this menu change!”

“The menu as it is now is far healthier for both us and the environment - and the ecosystems we tear down to sustain ourselves and animals that get butchered so people can enjoy the taste of their flesh don’t get a choice in what happens to them, so someone needs to make choices that help them out!”

“Oh, oh, so mud is healthier for me to eat than chicken? That’s fucking rich, Sam, that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever fucking heard!” Tucker was now agitated enough to start ranting in Mandarin, which was great. “Actually, no no, the most ridiculous thing is that we’re equating the right to a choice in what we eat to an animal’s right to chose anything. Are you insane?” Tucker opened the door so fast the knob banged against the wall. “I’m gonna make sure this shit doesn’t last the week!”

“We are no more innocent than those animals and they’re lives shouldn’t be put on the line for us needlessly! And don’t you think you can go undoing all my hard work!” Sam barged out as well, completely forgetting Danny as she slammed his door shut. And Danny stared at that door for a moment before groaning into his pillow.

“This is going to be a whole thing, isn’t it?” For several moments, Danny laid there and stared up at the constellations he’d put up on his ceiling in glow in the dark stickers. His stomach reminded him of its existence, and Danny groaned again. He still had some allowance left, so he went out and headed to the Nasty Burger. Considering Tucker’s words and how much he’d done that day, Danny ordered a full meal.

After he’d eaten and walked it off on the way home, Danny let what had happened that day go through his mind. Even as he fought off a small angry blob with his wrist ray, growling at it. “Ghosts aren’t mindlessly violent beings. I know that.” He needed to believe that. “So, that means that she can be calmed, somehow. She kept going on and on about the benefits of meat, and she died years ago…” An email notification popped up on Danny’s computer, and he sighed. “Right, homework assigned by Lancer. What would I do without Tuck?”

The next day, Danny pulled on one of his darker shirts - a gift from Sam with some constellation’s accurately displayed - and some jeans. His parents didn’t come up to join him and Jazz that morning, which was likely for the best. Danny didn’t need their ghost radar pointing at him before he could figure out how to break their biases. The second his cereal was finished, though, Danny pulled out his journal and attached pencil. “No,” Danny snapped when he heard Jazz take a familiar breath. “It’s not a diary, no you may not read it. For the 11th time, Spazz.” One weird benefit of super hearing - I can tell when she’s about to speak. Everyone had different rhythms for when they spoke and when they were thinking etcetera. Danny knew his sister’s patterns almost as well as Tucker and Sam’s.

Danny wrote into his journal a goal of recording his encounters with apparently sapient ghosts and how quickly he managed to pacify them. If only he could think of how to pacify this one.

Once the hybrid got to school - later than he would’ve been had those damned blobs not been so interested in fucking with him - Danny groaned as he was dragged to the Vice Principal’s office. There he found Tucker, who was glaring down at the desk in just the right angle to look like he was glaring directly ahead. A trick he’d developed for gathering valuable passwords while tricking Lancer and other authorities into thinking he was just a semi-rebellious teen. Danny couldn’t tell what Tucker could be trying to gather from the desk now, but he may have just been scowling. Tucker was complicated that way.

“Take a seat, Mr. Fenton.” Danny obeyed and took his seat, looking steadfastly at the space just behind Lancer’s head. “Tell me, gentlemen, how and why did you leave my office when both of you were already being punished for starting a food fight in the cafeteria?” Before either could come up with an answer, Lancer slammed his hand down hard on the desk, and Danny flinched. “What could possibly have possessed you two to skip school for the rest of the day?”

Danny squirmed a bit, while Tucker took even, obviously measured breaths. He then looked up at Lancer directly. “We were worried about Sam, sir. She hadn’t answered any of her texts, and she always answers even when we’re fighting to make sure we know she’s safe.” Not untrue, Sam wouldn’t have been able to answer a text if they tried that. Danny nodded along to Tucker’s story.

“We left out the window to find her, which took forever since she had gone to find a way to help organize something for the school.” Danny put on his most apologetic face. “We’re truly sorry about ditching you, Mr. Lancer, but we had to make sure our friend was safe, you see. We wanted to make sure none of the jocks or anyone had gone and done something horrible to her as revenge for getting the menu changed for a week.”

Lancer glared between the two of them for several seconds more, and Danny fought to keep himself still. “Fine,” Lancer finally allowed. “I will be following up with Ms. Manson to confirm all of this, but you won’t be receiving too harsh a punishment for looking out for your friend. For endangering yourselves by leaving through the window, however, and for leaving without simply telling me, you will be serving both lunch detention and after-school detention. Do you understand, boys?”

“Of course, Mr. Lancer.” It amazed Danny, at times, that he and Tucker could speak in unison. They were like twins.

“Dismissed. You two best not be late to my class.”

On the way to class, Danny brought up his thoughts on trying to appease the Lunch Lady. “Her name is Agatha,” Tuck said. “Agatha Reece. And maybe you could, I dunno, teach her about the health crisis in America? Help me organize the school to reform the menu the right way?”

“You want it changed too now? I thought you were gonna get it changed back early, or something?”

“Oh no, the food around here sucks either way.” Tucker rolled his eyes. “I just wish we had like, a better storage of better food in general. I could recommend my uncle and aunt’s farm for fresh, nearby food products.”

“If only we knew how Sam had convinced the school to do this whole ‘veggie week’ thing.” Danny shook his head. “That’s what really doesn’t make sense to me. We’ve only been in school for like, a month or so. How the hell did Sam ‘wear them down’ so quickly?”

“No clue,” Tucker growled. For a moment the hair on Danny’s nape stood on end at the sound. “But, I’m going to make a petition, and head around the school getting signatures for a better permanent change decided on by the students.”

Danny patted Tucker’s shoulder and nodded somberly. “Leave some printer paper for the rest of us at least?”

Tucker raised his nose, Danny now straining to hold in the laughter in front of the door. “Sorry Danny, but a man on a mission has to go to all lengths to complete his quest.”

Danny bowed at the waist. “Of course, Friar Tuck, how could I possibly forget?”

“You are forgiven, peasant Daniel.” Tucker laughed and pulled Danny into the classroom. Things would be alright. Danny just needed to weather the storm and make sure both of his friends were still friends by the end of it.

It proved far more difficult a task done than said. The three had most classes together, but Tucker was busily writing something down every few seconds in a second journal in his desk while he worked. Tuck had the most fascinating form of ambidextrousness. He barely paid any attention to Danny’s attempts to start a conversation and crumpled up any notes about Sam he slid over.

Similarly, Sam was ignoring him almost entirely. She took her notes, but every time she caught him whispering to Tucker, she glared and went cold on Danny himself. Am I not allowed to talk to both of my friends?

Lunch came around, Lancer had them eating in his room, and Danny had never been more grateful to Tucker’s mom than he had been when Tuck handed him an extra bagged lunch. “Tuck, you are the best.”

“I know it, dude.”

“Gentlemen! This is meant to be a time of quiet reflection upon your misdeeds.” Lancer glared at them until the teens went to silently eating, and Lancer went back to whatever he was doing on his computer. If Danny focused on the man’s headphones hard enough he could pick up the faint sound of… blasters? Weird.

At the end of the day, however, while the two were meant to be heading to detention, Tucker was going around and asking groups of friends who were lingering about something and holding up a clipboard that Danny was almost certain he stole from his dad’s office. Along with that pen. Never was Danny ever earlier than Tucker to something, but apparently, detention was one of those things. Sam, surprisingly, was also there.

“Lancer got you too?” Danny asked as he swept a bit nearer to the goth

“I was gone all day.” Sam shrugged, pushing the few remains of grass and mud into a pile and then grabbing a dustpan. “Plus I wanted to help clean it up anyway. We need this place to eat in after all.”

“Actually, I heard Jerry and Katelyn at least were eating on the theater stage.” The two scooped everything up into a trash bag with the dustpan. “They were inviting some other people to bring sandwiches and chips and stuff.”

“Oh wow,” Tucker called out from where Danny was very sure he shouldn’t have been able to hear them. “No one wanted to eat garbage right from the ground? I’m surprised, shocked even.”

“Had you actually been there to see, Tucker, there were plenty of people eating peacefully in the cafeteria today!” Sam looked downright murderous and stomped off to clean away from Tucker. Danny sighed a heavy sigh and shook his head.

The detention had gone on for an hour, but it’d felt like forever. Danny watched both his friends march off in different directions and groaned. Another friendless night for him. After a trip to the Nasty Burger, Danny did a little walk around the city. A few ghosts that he could see when the world lost focus skittered away from him or ignored him entirely. Some attacked, but his wrist ray had yet to run out of juice even though he forgot to charge it last night. “Maybe something to do with my other-self. Gonna have to ask mom and dad about that.” A shiver ran down Danny’s spine, a puff of mist coming out of his mouth and he looked around, letting his senses shift into that surreal state of his ghostly self. He saw nothing out of the ordinary. Relaxing, Danny sighed and headed home.

"Danny!" His dad, Jack Fenton, only seemed to speak in exclamation marks. Danny wondered if he'd ever had an inside voice. "C' mon, dinner's ready son!"

Danny raised a brow. "Who cooked?" He'd eaten his Nasty Burger meal and was pretty sure he got all he needed.

"I did!" On the other hand, more food that wasn't infected with ectoplasmic residue sounded nice. Danny set down his bag and headed into the kitchen, where his dad had set out chicken, mashed potatoes, garlic bread, and spinach. His mom and sister were already sitting and eating, and Danny gave them both a wave.

"Hi, Danny! Juice is in the fridge. Jazz reminded your father and I that we need to refresh our minds with some air now and then. I thought, why not a family dinner?" Mom shrugged as she picked up a chicken leg. "Jack insisted on cooking."

"Mom," Jazz said in her best calming voice, "Dad never mutates the food."

While Mom and Jazz debated who had the bigger mishaps with ectoplasm - Danny felt the Christmas turkey and Dad dragging them into a world of blinding perpetual light ranked as the biggest mishaps period - Danny grabbed himself a plate and fruit punch. Jazz clearly grabbed some groceries before telling their parents to surface.

Halfway through his meal, a thought struck Danny. "Hey Dad, Mom? How does ectoplasm interact with electricity in its rawest most natural form? The ectoplasm, not the electricity."

Jazz stared at him in betrayal, Why written in her expression. His parents, however, jumped on the thought of their son having an interest in their work. Danny had never seen his dad swallow food that fast.

"Ya see Danno, ectoplasm as it is when we retrieve it is naturally an energy thief. In relation to electromagnetic radiation, it soaks in any and all of it from the area with the exclusion of green visible light. That's why it feels so cold."

"If we can refine our engines properly we can utilize the flip side of that natural state," his mom added, "We could revolutionize energy efficiency in technology around the world!"

"It can store up a lot of power, but once it hits it's maximum?" Dad held his hands together then spread them out so fast he almost smacked Jazz and Danny. "It all comes out in an intense burn! Ectoplasm is either plasma hot or cold as space. When it's cold, it'd drain the power out of everything around it."

Danny nodded, letting the info process for a couple of moments while he ate. "So if, say, a ghost was to eat human food…?"

"Well," his mom twirled her fork around. "It likely wouldn't, but if it did the ghost would soak up all the energy that could be gotten out of the material in the food, leaving nothing but ashes."

Danny nodded, curiosity satisfied, and steered the conversation elsewhere. Once he was done clearing off his plate, Danny was struck with a realization. It was the sort of thing that happened all the time, when a thought lingered in his head, waiting to present itself. Usually, that was artistic inspiration. Now he knew exactly how to calm down Agatha. Up the stairs, he ran to his computer.

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