#tonya watch along

[lilbreck]

ST:TOS 103 - Where No Man Has Gone Before

Yes, we did skip an episode. No, we will not be reviewing Charlie X. While we found both Charlie and Mitchell creepy, Charlie’s age and his ability to control people made both of us too uncomfortable to enjoy even watching the episode.

We open the episode with Spock and Kirk wearing ugly sweaters and Spock without his eyeshadow. Though, Nimoy’s makeup almost matches his sweater. This scene also brings us another bit of Early Episode Weirdness in that Spock claims that one of his ancestors married a human female. He neglects to mention that said ancestor was his father and the woman was his mother. I’m thinking that they didn’t have Spock’s full backstory fleshed out when they started filming. At least his eyebrows are closer to being in check. Yes, I’m endlessly amused by this.

I can only assume that Spock and Kirk are currently still on duty in uniform, because we do see people out of uniform in the back. I can’t remember, do we ever see the main crew out of uniform on the ship? (Daughter’s note: Why don’t they have badges if they’re in uniform? Did they fall off without them noticing?)

I know it’s nitpicky, but they don’t have any sort of quarantine procedure for things they beam onboard? I’m pretty sure they address this in Strange New Worlds, IIRC, and possibly in some of the other Star Trek series, but it really does seem like a major oversight. No decontamination or anything. It’s really surprising there weren’t more outbreaks of strange viruses or radiation sickness on starships.

As much as I love the touch screens of the later shows, there is something I just adore about all the toggles, switches, and physical buttons of the old Trek. One thing I never loved? When a superior would come over and hover as if he actually knew what you were doing and was making sure you were doing it right. I refuse to believe Kirk could actually operate the transporter controls unless they had been pre-prepared for him and he only needed to touch one button.

I know it’s kind of hard to tell because he’s wearing the wrong color shirt, but there’s our first Scotty sighting! Now just to figure out the first time he and Uhura are in a scene together. And you thought your pairs were rare. Also, the disaster recorder (which I keep mistakenly calling a probe) looks like some sort of filter drum from an industrial AC unit.

When they talked about its tapes being intact, my daughter got a big laugh. I told her that “In the future, we’ll like things retro.” Retro apparently also means downgrading back to the previous big screen TV/view screen. Side note: there is no need to have someone hovering over the captain’s shoulder like that. At one point he even directs her to stand in a different place. What was even the point of this character?

At this point I become very confused. Where exactly are they heading? They can’t be following a signal, because the signal is coming from the recorder. Just, they randomly start heading somewhere and run into what is probably the same strange field.

Now, we have two other new characters, and you can tell the woman (Elizabeth Dehner) will be sexually repressed because she’s wearing pants. This is confirmed when Mitchell inappropriately tries to flirt with her, and she basically rejects him. He then calls her a walking freezer unit and my daughter and I decide he needs to die painfully. Side note: there is no real point to her character. She doesn’t even get any real part to play until very near the end, and it was not all that necessary.

I know it was the 60s, and it’s possible that those kind of things were taken more seriously, but the way they talk about ESP and things like that as if they’re Very Scientific™ just makes me giggle.

Another issue I have with this episode is that they took the ship out of the galaxy instead of sending some sort of probe to gather information. Apparently, Starfleet and/or The Enterprise are run by Kerbals.

Given that both actors who had to wear the contacts kept their heads tilted back and seemed to be looking down toward what they were trying to see, I wonder if that’s the only way they could actually see out of them. I can’t imagine they were terribly comfortable.

Later on we get needless and uncomfortable interactions between Mitchell and Dehner, Mitchell being creepy and ominous, and Spock jumping right to “Kill him, Jim.” Of course, then we get undeniable proof that Mitchell and Kirk could never have really been friends:

He couldn’t even get Kirk’s middle initial right. Or, you know, they hadn’t actually worked on Kirk’s full bio at this point.

In the fight scene, the first where we get a ripped Kirk shirt, we never actually see what rips the shirt. We have Shatner’s body double do a flying tackle and then, when we cut to Shatner getting up (please forgive the blurriness):

It ends with Mitchell being buried in a grave (that I don’t think could have held him) and Dehner dying from… Emperor Palpatine style lightning bolt fingers. Kirk records that they both died in the line of duty. I choose to believe both bodies were left there, and they recovered. They learned to get along and remade the planet to be very hospitable… or they moved to a one far away. They’re gods, they can do that shit.

End of episode tallies (details by daughter)

Unprofessional Behavior: 01 (Mitchell, who was still himself at the time, harasses Dehner. After the zapping, however, I consider him under the influence and as such, none of his interactions with Kirk afterward count.) Total: 05

Starfleet Are Cheapskates: 01 (Kirk’s shirt got ripped and we don’t know why. RIP.) Total: 02

Reasons Why Enterprise Needs a Counselor: 01 (Kirk had to kill his friend.) Total: 02

Early Episode Weirdness: 04 (Spock? Why are you wearing yellow? And downplaying your human heritage? And you too, Scotty. Minus the human heritage. Spock also suggests killing Mitchell sooner than he probably would have later on.) Total: 05

In The Future, We Like It Retro: 01 (Tapes. They use tapes.) Total: 02

#star trek #star trek: the original series #tonya watch along #star trek: tos

[habaaa]

I don't know if it's a good time, but I wanna share some things I've found about Franklin, they're so interesting and overall chill like him.

Disclaimer: These are official! You can search more at gta.fandom.com, also in little missions, voice clips, and also in hangouts Franklin can have with different characters.

1. He sleeps 8 hours a day:

According to a little observation, when you save the game by putting the characters to sleep it also advances their time, for each character there is a certain sleep cycle. Michael sleeps 6 hours, which is little, Trevor being Trevor puts him to a 12-hour sleep, which sounds good, but it's too much, finally, Franklin sleeps 8 hours, which is necessary.

2. He (maybe) is musical:

There is not so much detail about this, but if we analyze his room (in both houses) he has a guitar, mixer, radio, speaker, and more (there's A LOT of music-related stuff in his room in his and Aunt Denise's house).

Here:

2. He has three favorite radio stations:

These are Radio Los Santos, West Coast Classics, and The Lab, each one ofc has their genre:

Radio LS:

Genre: Contemporary Hip-Hop.

Styles:

Alternative Hip-Hop

Cloud Rap

Conscious Hip-Hop

Contemporary Hip-Hop

Dirty Rap

Drill

Gangsta Rap

Mumble Rap

R&B

Trap

West Coast Classic:

Genre: Classic Hip-Hop

Styles:

Old School Hip-Hop

West Coast Hip-Hop

East Coast Hip-Hop

Southern Hip-Hop

Alternative Hip-Hop

Comedy Hip-Hop

Conscious Hip-Hop

Political Hip-Hop

Gangsta Rap

R&B

Horrorcore

G-Funk

Golden Age Hip-Hop

Hardcore Hip-Hop

The Lab:

Genre: Hip-Hop

Styles:

Electronica

Rock

Synth-Pop

Dancehall

R&B

Gangsta Rap

Pop Rap

3. He may be a Christian?

In the second mission, Franklin got with Michael, this one says sarcastically a vesicle from the Bible "It's a foolish man who builds his house in sand, baby" to which Franklin answers "I don't think my boy Matthew was thinking trucks when he wrote that shit."

4. He's the only one who uses lockpins:

When you take or steal cars with Trevor or Michael, it will always result in a broken window, but with Franklin, this doesn't happen since he uses lockpins.

5. He may like the sky view (Not official, just a thought):

This is just a speculation of different pictures you see in Franklin's page in gta.fandom.com, some of those are Franklin admiring the sky (especially at night) and the city in his Vinewood mansion, but honestly, who wouldn't?

Edit: He does, in one of his switch scenes you can see him using the telescope of his mansion.

6. (NSFW!) He (Probably) lost his virginity to Tonya at 13 years old:

Yeah, strong right? When you hear these two speaking to each other in little missions with Tonya, she revels that she and Franklin had, yk a moment, in the back of Burger Shot, however, Franklin denies it and says they didn't do anything serious.

7. He cannot play tennis:

You can play tennis with Michael, Trevor's a fan of it, and there's no reason behind of why Franklin can't play tennis (This can be used for like headcanon idk why).

8. Both him and Michael are know to smoke cigarettes:

At Franklin's mansion, you seem to find lots of ashtrays along with Redwood cigarettes scattered on tables.

9. His email address:

His e-mail address is [email protected] (I hc than he likes being called Frankie, idk why).

10. He exists:

Not irl, but the fandom (not all of them) tends to forget him, and it's very sad, he's so cool and precious.

11. He seems to be more compassionate towards animals:

For this one, I'll use the information straight from the gta.fandom.com page, since it's better and more detailed.

"Of the three protagonists, Franklin appears to have the most compassion for animals, possibly because he is the only main character to have a pet. When he runs over a wild animal, he usually responds with compassionate quotes, such as: "Sorry, little dude!" or "Watch out, little dude!" whereas Michael usually responds with sarcasm and Trevor with dark humor."

Anyway, that's all from my part, I'll try to post more content abt him and Lamar, I think they're such interesting characters, wish there was more content abt both of them.

Tysm for reading, bye :)

#franklin clinton #franklin clinton x reader #gta v x reader #gta 5 #grand theft auto v #grand theft 5

[orofritokathy]

@heldenherzchen asked for "Danny and Nicholas ice-skating on a pond":

"So the Andes didn't laugh at you for the jacket?"

"Danny, we all have the same jacket! And no! They laughed because they found out that one of the very few things I cannot do! That was ice skating..."

Nicholas looked sadly at his partner as he sipped on his hot cocoa. Danny smiled sweetly.

"Drink up, let's boo boo to the park." Danny grabbed his monkey hat.

"Also stop using catchphrases from the drunken man in cell 3." Nicholas groaned as he put on his hat.

"I look ridiculous."

"Where's my confident partner at? Spit him out, I don't like this self-deprecating dingus." Danny grinned as he helped Nicholas skate with the penguin-shaped skating aid.

"I'm trying my best!" Nicholas gritted his teeth.

"You can do it! You'll come off as Bambi on ice at first but then you'll be like Tonya Harding without all those awful crimes and stuff." Danny skated along.

They made a couple of rounds on the rink and Nicholas felt more confident skating.

"I got another confession by the way."

"What? You were the one who told the Andes ?"

"No... I've never seen Bambi actually... But it looks cute and wholesome! Can we watch it this evening?" Nicholas asked sweetly. Danny coughed a bit.

"Umm... Sure... But after we get some tissues from the shop."

"For the cold?"

"Yes." Danny crossed his fingers.

#cornettosecretsanta2023 #hot fuzz #danny butterman #nicholas angel #Nicholas/Danny

[canonicallyobserving911]

Overall Assessment of Season 6

I’ve completed 15 detailed “Constructive Criticisms” posts regarding season 6 and I wanted to wrap everything up with an overall assessment for the entire season.

Even though 17% of the season’s 18 episodes were ok, overall, the majority of it wasn’t anything to be excited about especially since 9-1-1’s had some awesome seasons in the past (season 3 was the best). There were three good episodes but the rest could have been sent in an email or yeeted to the sun.

6x3 “The Devil You Know” had great cinematography and the acting from the main and recurring characters along with the guest stars was superb but in my opinion the storyline should have been included in a different franchise.  Mainly because it was so dark and heavy that it seemed like it would have been a better fit for “Law & Order: SVU” especially since Tonya Kingston was a special victim.  One thing 9-1-1 did EXCEPTIONALLY WELL BEFORE SEASON 5 was balance the lighter storylines with the heavier ones but for the past two seasons they haven’t done a great job of it.  Season 5 was heavy enough with Maddie’s PPD and Eddie’s PTSD storylines, therefore the third episode of season 6 shouldn’t have been that heavy and dark.  On a positive note, it was part of Athena’s origin story regarding why she became a cop and it properly closed out her storyline even though it started back in season 2.

6x6 “Tomorrow” was good but someone didn’t fact check a lot of the details for it and they didn’t ensure the continuity was there.  At the end of 6x5, the promo for 6x6 included Karen calling 9-1-1 but that scene was NOT INCLUDED in the episode.  Also, in CANON it was never mentioned that Chimney orchestrated Hen and Karen’s blind date.  Finally, the closeout of Hen’s medical school storyline wasn’t fact checked either since in 2x6 she said the reason she became a paramedic was because she got shot when she was 16 and the paramedics who came to help took care of her.  Then in 3x9, she told Karen the woman they saw at the spa, Stacy Mullins, was the reason why she became a paramedic.  So which one was it or was it both?  The audience will never know especially since she didn’t mention either option at the end of 6x6 during her explanation to Karen regarding why she decided to drop out of medical school.

6x13 “Mixed Feelings” was my favorite episode overall because it included A LOT OF BUCK & EDDIE, BUCK & CHRIS AND THE BUCKLEY-DIAZ FAMILY.  FULL STOP!  Their relationship was missing for 99% of 6A; therefore to see Buck and Eddie side by side along with the Buckley-Diazes spending time together again like they did in 6x1, it was absolute PERFECTION.  I’ve already explained in post “#15 – Buddie” how Buck and Eddie’s relationship is the main reason why I watch the show so I won’t elaborate.

All the other episodes didn’t meet the expectations that 9-1-1 established during previous seasons.

6x10 “In a Flash” could have been one of the best episodes of the season but IT WASN’T because the Buckley parents’ and Sang Han’s presences ruined it.  It was supposed to be about Buck being struck by lightning (which was shoved into the last 5 minutes of the episode) but they spent the first 40 minutes showing more of his parents, Chimney’s dad and Albert’s mother than they did showing the 118, Athena, May and Chris.  Also they SPOILED the majority of Buck’s injury a month before it aired with all the stills and promos they released.

Overall, my biggest criticism about the season is the show didn’t commit to anything.  Everything seemed like it was a false start which is kind of sad since they "thought" (I still don’t believe they thought it was the last one) or wanted the audience to believe it was going to be their final season.  My false start metaphor can be compared with a “false start” in a track meet.  When runners are on their marks and one of them starts before the starter pistol is fired, everyone must go back to the beginning.  That’s how I feel about season 6 because every main character was sent back to the beginning instead of showing how far they’ve come.  No one, not any individual character or their ships were shown to have moved forward.  The finale was a rushed mess and none of it made any narrative sense.

Basically, it appears there was no real purpose for season 6 and if there was one, it got lost in translation since things were discombobulated and all over the place.  Storylines were unequally distributed, recurring characters’ arcs were rewritten to make them likeable and the metaphors just kind of fell apart in the end.  If there really was a purpose, what was it?  The items below are overall assessments for the nine main characters.

Athena needed more storylines than what was provided in 6x3

Bobby’s AA sponsor storyline was atrocious and shouldn’t have been included

Buck’s gazillion storylines should have ended better

Chris deserves his own storylines.  He’s a main character but he never gets his own storylines even though Denny (bio dad) and Jee-Yun (Maddie’s engagement ring) had individual storylines this season

Eddie NEEDED MORE STORYLINES!  (I’ll keep screaming it because EDDIE DESERVES BETTER!)

Hen’s, Chimney’s and Buck’s quest for interim captain should have been handled better

Hen’s medical school storyline should have ended better

Maddie and Chimney deserved a better plot for their proposal storyline than that raggedy IRS Income Tax mess

May had one main storyline for the whole season but after that, she was barely there

After 6x18 aired, it seemed like someone had an idea about where they wanted the season to go but they didn’t know how to execute it in a way that would make the audience want to return after the HIATUS.  Additionally, a lot of time was spent copying storylines from other shows and it appears they didn’t think anyone would notice but it’s apparent from the comments that were left on social media sites, some viewers who watch similar series did notice and they were vocal about it.

In the past, 9-1-1 was unique but somewhere along the way they lost the thing that made them special.  In the wastelands of network TV, it was refreshing to watch a show that included everything instead of having separate shows for the police, firefighters and dispatchers like other franchises.

When the season ended, I asked myself the same question I asked after 15 of the 18 episodes aired; “Is that it?”  Maybe my expectations were too high but I don’t believe they were since I still watch episodes from seasons 2-4 (3x2 - 3x3 – the Tsunami were fantastic and 4x13 - 4x14; Eddie being shot still haunts me but I love Eddie so I'll watch all the episodes where he gets the screen time he deserves).

Was season 6 supposed to be their legacy? If so, then it was filled with a bunch of raggedy storylines that focused primarily on Buck while ignoring the rest of the main characters.  It was like they didn’t want to commit to anything risky or something that would have cemented the show as a groundbreaking TV series that would have audiences talking about it for the next decade or maybe even longer.

This is my overall assessment of season 6 and whenever the show returns, hopefully it will have returned to being uniquely 9-1-1 instead of some knock off version of the other 3 or 4 firefighting shows out there in the already oversaturated market of emergency television shows on network TV.

I’ve included links to all the “Constructive Criticisms” posts below along with their topics.

#1 - Lack of and/or inconsistencies with interviews, promos, stills, trailers, etc.

#2 - Recurring Characters OVERSHADOWED Main Characters

#3 - Undeserved and Unearned Parent Redemptions

#4 - Unequal Distribution of Storylines

#5 - Continuity Errors and Forced Narratives

#6 - Season Six or Season of Sex

#7 - Stereotypes in Season 6

#8 - Lack of Professional Development and Growth

#9 - The use of Metaphors, Themes and Theories

#10 - Bathena

#11 - Henren

#12 - Madney

#13 - Evan “Buck” Buckley

#14 - Edmundo “Eddie” Diaz

#15 - Buddie

#9-1-1 Season 6 - CANON Constructive Criticisms #Canonically Observing 9-1-1 Speaks #buddie #henren #bathena #madney #eddie diaz #evan buckley #maddie buckley #christopher diaz #athena grant #bobby nash #chimney han #hen wilson #911 fox #911 season 6 speculation #911 season 6 #911 s6 #911 on abc #911 meta #911 abc #911 on fox #911onfox #911

[inourtownofhawkins]

𝓲𝓬𝓮 𝓹𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓮𝓼𝓼.

Summary: Eddie's been trying to pluck up the courage to talk to you for weeks and Dustin has a perfect plan after watching you ice skate.

Author's note: I just wanted to write something short and cute lol. I've wanted to write something ice skating related for the longest time so here we are lol

CW: Just a whole load of fluff, no use of Y/N, some dirty jokes towards the end but they're not too bad, a couple drug deal references

Word count: 1.1k

Any hate will not be tolerated, constructive criticism is welcomed.

“Dude, just ask her out already,” Dustin groaned, hitting his forehead on the rink barrier. “You drag me here every Saturday to freeze my ass off while watching a girl you’re too chicken to talk to, skate around like Tonya Harding for two hours and then hear you for the rest of the week talk about how pretty she is.”

Eddie shook his head, taking a long sip of his soda as his eyes were fixated on you. “She probably doesn’t even know I exist.”

“Trust me, dude, she knows you exist, it’s pretty hard not to.”

Eddie had been crushing on you for months but had never worked up the courage to even talk to you, anytime he tried, he’d just freeze up and word vomit about something before being dragged away by one of his friends. He found out through a drug deal that this was where you spent your Saturdays, skating around for the best part of an hour by yourself before being an assistant coach for the rest of the afternoon.

It was not stalking, no matter what anyone says. Eddie just enjoyed watching you skate and came every Saturday to do so, usually dragging Dustin along with him, under the promise of buying whatever he wanted from the burger joint next to the rink.

Dustin took a large bite of his burger that was almost the size of his face, sauce and juice dripping onto his plate and all over his fingers. “At least just talk to her, man, what’s the worst that could happen?” he asked through his mouthful, licking his fingers.

“She could hear me,” Eddie muttered as he stuffed some fries into his mouth.

He watched as you skate towards the barrier, your friend handing you your water bottle and you more or less devouring half of it. Is it possible to be jealous of a water bottle? He could’ve sworn you looked at him as you finished drinking, causing his heart to skip a beat and look away quickly.

You, of course, hadn’t looked at Eddie and went back to skating, being careful to not crash into any kids as you practiced a few spiral sequences before doing a spin. Dustin had become interested as you began to spin, an idea popping into his head.

“Eddie, today is the day you’re doing to talk to her.”

Taring his eyes away from you, he looked at Dustin utterly horrified. “What do you mean?”

Ten minutes later, Eddie was forced into a pair of hire skates and pushed out onto the ice, swearing endless profanities under his breath as he tried to keep his balance. “Henderson, I’m going to kill you.”

Dustin gave him a sarcastic smile from the barrier. “Trust me, you’re gonna thank me for doing this for you. Now go over to her before you chicken out as usual.”

Eddie rolled his eyes as he pushed himself off the barrier and tried to skate towards your completely oblivious form. His toe pick was constantly catching on the carvings left by other people, causing him to trip every time he took a step. He was so focused on his own feet trying to not trip over that he didn’t see you in front of him and collided into your back, causing both of you to fall over.

You let out a surprised yelp as you fell down, quickly putting your hands down to break your fall. You turned to see who’d collided into you, finding Eddie faceplanting on the ice. “Oh god, are you okay? I’m so sorry I didn’t see you!” you instantly began helping Eddie to his feet, guiding him to the barrier.

Eddie winced from the pain of hitting the ice so hard but tried his best to hide it in front of you. “That was all me, sweetheart. Ironically, I was trying to not trip over.”

You couldn’t help but smile while watching him be honestly, just so adorable. “Ice skating is a lot harder than people think it is, I’ve fallen over so many times so it’s okay to fall… it’s Eddie, right?”

Eddie froze, his eyes going wide for a moment as his mind was trying to process just how much he loved hearing his name come out of your lips. “Uh, yeah, we have History together.”

Nodding, you thought about all the times you seen him in class; you’d caught him staring at you a couple of times but you always brushed it off as him trying to see the board or to look at another classmate. You’d noticed him coming to the rink too, but you’d never quite put it together that he’d possibly came to see you. You’d always assumed it was to do a drug deal as it wasn’t exactly a secret that drug deals happened in the parking lot of the rink, but come to think of it, you’d never seen Eddie really leave the rink almost until you did.

Both of you couldn’t think of what to say next, enjoying each other’s presence but also desperate to say at least something. It was finally broken when Eddie spoke up again. “Listen, uh, you’re allowed to say no but I was wondering if you could teach me how to skate.”

You were slightly taken aback by his request, you raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t picture you as the skating type.”

“So, is that a no?” he looked almost disappointed, looking down at his fingers.

Shaking your head, you grabbed his hand and began leading him around the rink. “I’ll teach you to skate, if you give me your number,” you let go of his hand once you’d arrived in the centre of the rink.

Eddie looked like a deer in headlights, stuttering over his words as he tried to look in his pockets for his phone while also trying to retain his balance. “Yeah sure! Did you want it now or?”

You laughed holding his hands to stop himself from falling over. “Give it to me after, you’re gonna end up falling over again.” You laughed as you began to slowly skate backwards, guiding him around the rink again.

“Can we have a whole class of you just doing this? Falling over is too embarrassing.”

Shaking your head, you let go of his hands and began skating a large circle around him. “Hell no! You’re gonna be gliding by the time we’re finished.”

“Or,” Eddie smirked, grabbing your arm as you passed him. “We call it even and I buy you a burger.”

Raising your eyebrow, you licked your lips as you shook your head again. “No gliding, no phone number, no burger. Get your ass around the rink, Munson.”

He chuckled as he let go of your arm, awkwardly trying to move forward on the ice. “I think I like it when you’re bossy, ma’am.”

You skated ahead of him, rolling your eyes. “You’re a dead man, Eddie Munson.”

“And you’re an ice princess, sweetheart.”

#spilled ink #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfiction #tbh if this tanks idk if i wanna keep writing

[motomamita]

Blood, Sweat and Ice.

Part. 2

Pairing: Dark!Eddie Munson x Female!IceSkater!Reader

Summary: Before finishing her off, eddie is determined to fuck her one way or another, even if he has to fake his identity to get it done.

Warnings: smut, +18, false identity, unprotected sex, creampie, mask sex, mentions of drugs, alchohol and blood, violence, idk sis.

A/N: Somewhat inspired by the Tonya Harding and Nancy Kerrigan scandal. Ofc, this is more dark.

Do not translate or copy this!

With a joint dangling from his fingers and several litres of alcohol inside of him, Eddie Munson thought his afternoon was going to end the same as all the previous ones: with him sleeping on the bathroom floor, a puddle of vomit around him and his album favorite playing all the way in the background. However, Nancy Wheeler knocked on his door with a favor she needed from him.

"I just need it to be a scare, like an warning that makes her miss the competition this Saturday." The girl clasped her hands in front of her chest, as if she were praying. "Please, Eddie! I'll pay you a good dough!"

Nancy Wheeler has been ice skating since she was 8 years old. She was good, she tried hard and, just like in school, she was diligent. However, that was not enough to guarantee a place in the competition that would take place that weekend. It wasn't if she had to compete against that girl.

"What do you mean 'a little warning'?" Eddie leaned against the old refrigerator and took a drag on his joint before speaking again. "Do you want me to send her a threatening email? To bug the wheels on her bike? To shit on her doorstep and leave a sign saying 'don't you dare enter the competition, bitch'?"

"Yeah, it could be something like that. As long as it ensures it doesn't steal my first place, it's fine." The calmer Wheeler spoke "Please, Eddie. I know you've done worse in the past, Mike told me about it."

And yes, he had.

Alcohol and drug abuse, along with the fact that he dropped out of high school, had given Eddie a need for constant adrenaline. That adrenaline was obtained by carrying out unlawful and unethical acts. He first started stealing cars that were staying late in the Starmall parking lot. When he didn't get something of value, he had fun breaking the windows and scratching the doors. Then he went on to steal inside houses and spend hours hiding inside them even with their owners going about their daily lives. That unleashed in Eddie the interest to watch people closely without them knowing it. It was amazing how much one could find out about a person just by following him for a couple of hours in his day.

Last but not least illegal were street fights. Eddie had become addicted to them. When he felt boredom eat him up, he'd grab his truck, a couple of beers, and wait outside the town's strip club for some old or young man who wanted to fight him. As the weeks passed, Eddie stopped having opponents and that led him to look for other ways to have fun. He waited for his, now, victims in some dark alley and silently pounced on them. In a matter of minutes he left them almost dying in a pool of blood until some citizen found them the next day. Sometimes he used a weapon like a baseball bat or a heavy wrench that was used to repair his truck, other times he only used his hands.

Soon those acts alerted the entire town to the existence of an individual who beat his victims almost to death. Nobody knew who it was, just a few people, like Mike Wheeler. For that very reason, he wasn't surprised when Nancy visited him days ago in his trailer with a tempting offer, and not just for the money.

As he drove downtown to the ice skating rink that Thursday, Eddie Munson thought about his next victim. He knew quite a bit about her, all kinds of information he could get in a whole day of following her around. He knew her hours, where she lived, who she was dating and her weaknesses that would serve him for his 'mission'.

She was the only child of a middle-class family. Her parents moved to Hawkins when the little girl was 6 years old and continued to live there, with no plans to leave. Her parents both work at the mayor's office in not so high positions but enough to be able to travel every summer to Houston, where she was from. She had practiced ice skating since she was 4 in almost professional rinks, which favored her compared to her other opponents in Hawkins who had to settle for their most basic rinks. She was an excellent skater by nature, Eddie could see as he watched her skate from a dark corner of the place.

From the way her coach gave her instructions, he assumed that this routine full of jumps and somersaults was the one she was going to present on Saturday in front of the judges. Nancy Wheeler definitely had no chance against her.

He stayed until she was the last to leave the track. By that time, the other girls had already left several minutes ago, leaving his target alone for a few minutes on the track.

Walking out, Eddie caught a keen eye of the conversation she and her coach were having as she walked to the locker room. She planned to stay the next day, Friday, a few more minutes on the track to prepare as much as possible for the big day. Her coach, a woman with curly hair and brown skin, agreed with her decision but informed her that she would train alone because she had paperwork to do. They talked a bit about topics not very relevant to him and then they said goodbye. Eddie a few meters behind the coach and prepared to smoke in one of the seats outside the place while he saw how the woman got into her car and headed home.

After 25 minutes counted by the clock, she left the place with her wet hair and her heavy bag. The instant she stepped into the parking lot, a blue Camaro pulled out of the parking lot and came up to where she was standing. Billy Hargrove. Eddie laughed bitterly. She and Billy had been dating for a few months. It was not known if they were already a couple but evidently something was going on between them and it was very intense. They were like 'Beauty and the Beast'. She was a flower, so delicate and fragile, while Billy was anything close to a boundless animal.

Billy grabbed her bag and put it in the trunk and then opened the passenger door for her, like a real gentleman. The couple avoided all physical contact until they reached the lovers' lake, where the show for Eddie began several meters away.

As the temperature rose in the blue Camaro, so did Eddie's truck, who was not only seized by fever but also by jealousy. It had been weeks since he had been with a woman intimately, and years since he had fallen in love with one. Of the girls he had met in high school none had managed to capture his attention, not even Chrissy Cunningham who on more than one occasion had tried to reach more with him. Getting so involved in that skater's life had awakened such a strong desire within him, something he had never experienced before. He wanted to feel her the way Hargrove was doing right now. The memory that he had to hurt her at some point crossed his mind and it made him a little sad. However, his own body called his attention to the growing problem forming in his pants and he had to take charge.

...

That Friday he arrived at the track around sunset and stayed in his truck for a couple of minutes. Soon, the same people who had been yesterday were now leaving the place with their bags in the direction of their cars. He waited a few minutes before getting out of his truck and stealthily entering the area. Luckily for him, despite wearing long hair and unusual clothes, Eddie had always managed to go unnoticed everywhere. That served as an advantage in situations like this.

From a distance he saw her on the track, alone and without the slightest idea that he had been watching her for minutes. She was wearing a light green sweater and black leggings that accentuated her figure. Her white skates kicked up the ice with every hop and turn she took. Eddie smiled seeing her so focused on her routine, as if that were the only important thing in the world.

He walked to one of the vending machines when he noticed how she left the track and collected her things with the intention of going to the locker room. Eddie lowered his gaze and counted 3 times the few coins that lay in the palm of his hand, acting disinterested when she passed behind him and was lost among the aisles. He put two coins in the machine and took out a Dr. Pepper which he drank carefully as he looked around. He was practically alone in the place, him and her. The manager who closed the track was now up on the machine that cleaned the track and which in turn made an annoying and loud noise. It was perfect to carry out his mission. No one was going to hear her scream.

Eddie tossed the can into a nearby trash can and walked purposefully toward the women's locker room. The sound of water falling from the shower led him through the wide space to the area where she was. Eddie stood in the middle of the hallway, motionless until the sound of the water stopped completely. Delicately, he took out a ski mask that he kept in one of the pockets of his jacket and put it on, hiding his characteristic long hair and revealing only his lips and eyes.

She wrapped herself in her towel and got out of the shower. A scream escaped her throat at seeing him there, standing with his face covered and staring at her. The shock lasted a few seconds, seconds in which she hugged her towel even more and looked around in search of something or someone that would help her. Eddie remained silent, forcing her to speak for the first time.

"What... what do you want?" She asked, not quite sure that he would answer her. "Please don't do anything to me." She whispered taking a few small steps back and walking to her clothes on a bench.

Eddie didn't answer and watched her movements carefully in case she tried to run away, although he was going to catch her anyway before she went out the door.

"Aren't you going to answer me?" Unanswered. "Who you are?" Unanswered. "Billy?"

Bingo. She had fallen into his trap.

"Billy, this is not funny. Stop right now." She asked a little less upset but still with her agitated voice.

Eddie had discovered more about the couple than he would have imagined. He knew that her parents didn't want Billy and that's why they saw each other in the lake of lovers after each practice. She knew that Billy was annoyed when she drenched the seats of his Camaro with her wet hair and that's why he placed a towel on the seatback before looking for her. As he also knew how much she liked him to fuck her with a ski mask he had under the seat of his car.

The place wasn't fully lit and Eddie had taken it upon himself to dress in the most similar way to Billy's. So he could easily fool her.

"Didn't you hear me? Wait for me in the parking lot." She removed the towel from her, exposing her body.

Eddie swallowed hard and carefully admired the body of the naked girl in front of him. Now the distance between them was shorter and that made it possible for him to memorize every curve of her body. Soon his member woke up and he knew he had to act fast before someone discovered them.

He approached and hugged her from behind, placing his hands on her stomach, caressing her wet skin. He brought his nose to her hair and discreetly sniffed at her hair and the sweet shampoo she had used minutes before.

"Billy, stop!" She spoke now laughing when Eddie's hands tightened on her hips, digging his fingertips into her skin. "Do you really want to do this now? Here?" she asked as she felt his hard erection against her bare ass.

She turned to look at him, not closing her distance. Eddie nodded and prayed to all the saints that she wouldn't notice the chocolate color of his eyes, very different from Billy's blue. The girl let out a loud sigh and looked at the clock hanging on one of the walls.

"Okay, we have some time."

Eddie didn't wait any longer and pushed her slightly against the wall causing her to let out a moan almost in surprise at the abrupt movement. He knelt in front of her and brought one of her legs up to his shoulder, leaving her pussy available to him. Without thinking twice, he brought his mouth to her clitoris, sucking lightly on it and then massaging it with his tongue. She moaned loudly and then covered her mouth with her hand, she didn't want them to be found out. With his hands he massaged her thighs, supporting her from the way her legs trembled.

"Shit, Billy..."

Gradually, his ski mask began to soak with her fluids, impregnating her sweet taste and aroma into the fabric. Eddie went from the clit to her entry which was already fully weat. He licked her with his tongue, collecting all the fluid and bringing another wave of pleasure to the girl.

He glanced at the clock and knew he had to hurry. As much as he would have loved to continue savoring her, he wanted to feel her even more. He quickly got up from the ground and she had to grab the wall to keep from falling from how weak her legs were. She tried to kiss him but Eddie dodged her, avoiding any contact that would give him away.

"Baby, let me feel you..." she begged with her breath coming fast.

Hearing her, Eddie whispered a 'shit' only audible to him, he was too hot. He approached her again, grabbed her by the thighs and supported her again against the cold wall. For her part, she began to unbutton his pants and lowered the same along with his boxers, releasing his hard cock. Eddie rushed into her before she realized it wasn't Billy. She moaned again when Eddie's member mercilessly entered her and began to move at an accelerated pace. The girl tried to kiss him again but this time Eddie had to place one of his hands on her cheek, moving her head to the side and avoiding as much eye contact as possible.

Eddie's gaze was now fixed on the way her breasts bounced with each thrust, inviting him to taste them, which he did.

"Mmh, so good.." Eddie's wet tongue tasted first her left nipple and then moved to her right, continuing to move inside her.

The sound of their skins colliding and her moans were enough to drive Eddie to the extreme, who had been dreaming of that moment for days. He would have liked to have given her more pleasure, massaging her clits and whispering dirty words to her but it was not the moment. The only thing that was going through his mind was the need to come, even though he knew that he would have to break her legs later.

Eddie did his best not to make a sound but to no avail, the walls of her were sucking him so deliciously that when he came inside her, her name slipped from his mouth.

It took him a few seconds to understand what had happened and how much he had screwed up, all to fulfill his sexual desire. Eddie came inside her and released her without any finesse, letting her fall on the locker room floor. He pulled up his pants and adjusted his ski mask that had moved slightly from all the action. When he lowered his gaze, he met hers, she was scared.

"Who you are?" She whispered on the verge of tears, covering her body with her towel and feeling how the hot semen of that stranger came out of her.

Again Eddie didn't answer and stared at her. So fragile, so defenseless, so corrupted. He smiled slightly as he imagined Hargrove's face when he found out that a son of a bitch had ended up inside his girlfriend, and in the amount of money that Nancy would give him tomorrow after the championship.

She tried to get up from the ground but Eddie stepped on her hard on one of her ankles. The girl screamed that went unnoticed by the manager who was still cleaning the skating rink. Eddie provided more pressure on her, who was trying to get his foot off of her unsuccessfully. He was much stronger than her, it was clear. Eddie looked around for something that would hurt the girl even more, and he found it.

Eddie slipped his foot off her ankle and walked over to where her skating shoes were. The girl tried to stand up and escape but she couldn't, her ankle was already beginning to swell. Eddie grabbed one of the shoes and removed the safety band that covered the sharp metal blade.

She whimpered when she saw how he approached her with her shoe in hand, she knew what was going to happen to her. She had no escape, she was finished.

Eddie gripped the shoe tightly and landed the first blow on one of her legs, cutting her both clean and deep. He repeated his action several times with both legs, making sure not only to make her unable to walk for a long time, but also to leave marks for a lifetime.

When he was satisfied, eddie left the place with a smile and the sweet scent of her on his face.

#eddie munson x reader #joseph quinn x reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #joseph quinn #eddie munson smut #dark!eddie munson

[broadwaydivastournament]

Broadway Divas Tournament: Round 1C

Eight shows a week in 1995, Veanne Cox (1963) sang "Getting Married Today" in the oft-overlooked revival of Company, earning a Tony nomination for her harrowing effort. While I know and love her as Calliope in the best Cinderella (1997) screen adaptation, her stage credits include The Dinner Party (2000) (alongside Diva Jan Maxwell), Caroline, or Change (2002) (alongside Divas Tonya Pinkins and Anika Noni Rose), and recently an off-Broadway production of Wedding Band (2022) where her character was astoundingly racist. She's a delightfully unhinged personality with an open-door policy on her NYC apartment for any fellow actor needing to crash for a night.

Two-time Tony nominee Charlotte d'Amboise (1964) is a hell of a dancer who has been flitting in and out of Chicago for the last twenty-five years. She has also starred in Company (1995), Contact (2001), Carrie (1988), and A Chorus Line (2006). She's also done Pippin (2013), but I had a C-theme going on so... Dance runs in the family. Both of her parents were accomplished professional dancers, as are her siblings. She is the Roxie, even on the cusp of sixty. It really adds layers to the whole fake-pregnancy storyline.

PROPAGANDA AND MEDIA UNDER CUT: ALL POLLS HERE

"Veanne Cox is one of the funniest, most unhinged character actresses you'll ever meet. Just watch the clip above. I cried laughing. Love a woman who has something obviously deeply wrong with her. In her own words, she's a lot better than she used to be. She likes to tell a great story where she was being neurotic and insufferable in a dressing room somewhere and Betty Buckley came along, sat on her, and said "stop it. Just stop it." And she did. And now they're best friends, and Veanne got help. Also, she was 35 when she was in Cinderella, and Bernadette Peters was her mother at 50. Very funny to me. "

"Yeah, I think that about sums it up. If you've seen Chicago at some point, statistically you're more likely to have seen Charlotte than any other Roxie."

#broadwaydivastournament #broadway divas #broadway #musical theatre #tournament poll #veanne cox #charlotte d'amboise #round 1c

[mrsarnasdelicious]

Two Plus Two

This is for my GF @femjaskierinreallife

We're sitting in a cozy pub in Edinborough. Vacation with you so far seems like paradise. I could not be happier.

The waitress brings us the nacho's we ordered and you are people watching. I smile at the waitress and lean against you. "What you looking at?" I cooe. "That guy at the bar looks like Gerard Butler." You whisper. I try to be subtle about looking over at the guy at the bar, clad in a shirt of some band or the other and a fucking kilt.

He's looking our way, though and his eyes meet mine. I quickly look away, but do not miss him nudging the man beside him. "Omg, he is pointing us out." You squeak in my ear. "Oh and his friend is hot." I look again. And Gods, you are right. His friend is fucking glorious. "One for thee and one for me." I whisper.

My gaze meet the hot friend's and he grins lopsidedly. I flush darkly. You giggle in my ear. "Should we?" You ask. "I mean .. if they game." I whisper. I can't help but giggle wildly along with you. My heart is racing about a million miles per hour.

My hand finds your thigh and I give you a squeeze.

"I can lure them in." You whisper. "You make it sound like they are animals." I titter. "Well, maybe they will be." You lean in, pecking my neck. I notice that while you do this, you keep eye contact with the man that looks so awfully much like Gerry Butler. I can't help a little moan.

The man's friend looks at us, too.

"We got their attention." You murmur, nipping my ear. A genuine moan passes from my lips. Both men look at me now. My fluster darkens again. They come over and take two chairs from the neighbouring table. The Gerry Butler lookalike sits his wrong side front. His friend, taller, more imposing, keeps a bit off to the side.

"Are the lovely ladies vacationing here, or new in town." The Scotsman asks. His voice sounds suspiciously much like Gerard Butler indeed. I can feel you grin against my neck. "We are on holiday." I affirm. "My friend is too." The Scot gestures to his friend.

Is two plus two four, here?

"I am Tessa and this is my girlfriend Tonya." I cooe. "Nice to meet you, lasses. I am Gerard and this is my friend Pablo." The Scotsman smirks.

So two plus two is four.

You begin to giggle again and I feel my ears heat up. "So nice to meet you, gentlemen." I try to sound demure. I probably miss the mark, but both Gerard and Pablo grin at me. You cuddle in as close as you can get, inching Gerard up. He meets you eye and his tongue flicks out to wet his bottom lip.

"Can I get yous something to drink." He rumbles. "Oh yes please." You affirm. "That would be nice." I agree. "What would you like?" Pablo looks me in the eye as he asks it. "He liiiikes you." You singsong ever so softly in my ear. "I'd like a cider please and my girlfriend takes a tequilla." I reply. Pablo nods and gets up, sauntering to the bar. I can't help but gaze at his ass. He has a great ass.

"He likes you."Gerard echoes your words.

I decide carefully on my next words. I don't want to give the gentlemen the impression we aren't open to them. You have made it evident we are more than friends, after all. And so have I..

"I am very flattered, I like him too." I say gently. "That is always nice to hear." Pablo comes back to our small table, placing down your tequilla and my cider. His eyes linger on both of us. The he gives Gerard a lil smack on the shoulder and goes back to bar to retrieve two glasses of whiskey.

"Where you lasses from?" Gerard asks. "I'm Dutch and Tonya is from America." I reply. "Met online, been smitten with her for years." You supply. "So, long distance?" Gerard furrows his brows. Pablo places one glass of whiskey in front of Gerard and sits down again. "For now, yes." I answer, barely able to tear my eyes away from Pablo. He smiles brightly at me.

"So, who moves where?" Pablo asks. "Tonya will move to The Netherlands." I purr. "Oh, big plan?" Gerard grins. "Nothing solid yet, but I'm definitely gona marry her." You reply. "Lucky girl." Gerard winks at you. "Who, me, or her?" You tease. Gerard laughs heartily. "Both." Pablo supplies.

You down your tequila and I sip my cider. The men both sip their whiskey and we exchange pleasantries. We talk about basic things and gentle nothings. We are all avoiding the genuine subject we want to talk about.

It is Gerard who broaches it first. "So, your hotel nearby?" He asks. "Wana come?" You cooe. "Getting straight to the point, I like it." Gerard smirks. "Straight, us... oh please." You titter. I can help a manic giggle. "We should finish our drinks first." I say. "I already did." You giggle as well. I snortle and roll my eyes. I know what tequilla does to you.

I sip my cider and you snuggle into me with a loud giggle. You're obviously becoming horny, rather swiftly. I am not complaining. I feel both men watch us with rapt attention. Your lips venture along my neck and I grit my teeth in order not to moan too eagerly. You giggle louder and nip at my skin. I gasp in pleasure. I can feel you smirk. I put my hand on your thigh, sliding upwards. You squirm against me. It would seem we are putting up a show. We are letting these men know what we are made of. What is in store for them.

Gerard leans forward on the backrest of his seat. He smirks widely. "Go on, kiss her." He encourages you. "I could also kiss you." You tease him. Gerard grins widely at you. "No no, ladies first." He murmurs. "Save us for in the hotelroom, yeah." He sips his whiskey. "Fine be my." I cooe. Pablo nods his ascend as well.

I cup your cheek and draw you in for a kiss. You grin against my lips. I taste tequilla on your tongue and squeeze your thigh.

Pablo and Gerard finish their whiskey and I have to gulp down my cider, because I don't want to dilly-dally too long. Gerard rises to pay the tab, which we are of course not protesting.

And not much later we are on our way to our hotelroom.

We're taking up the entire cobbled road, but there is no traffic. I'm holding your hand, but converse with Pablo. You talk with Gerard. I'm trying to keep an ear on your convo, but I just can't. I am so absorbed by Pablo. Everything about him hits just right. And he smiles so warmly down on me. He puts his hand on the small of my back, his body heat seeping into my shirt.

It is only a little while till we arrive at our hotel. I pull my keycard from the case of my phone and use it to open the automatic front door. Both gentlemen crowd us into the elevator and you hit the button for our floor.

The elevator is small and we are all pressed together quite close. You can feel Gerard has an erection, even through the denim of his denim shorts. His breath fans over your face. We are still holding hands. I'm leaning my forehead against Pablo's chest, inhaling his scent. He wraps my long ginger braid around his hand. My breath hitches a little. Pablo chuckles and gives a slow gentle tug. I can't help a moan. You and Pablo swear simultaneously.

The elevator dings and Gerard and Pablo exit, walking backwards. We eagerly follow. We shove playfully past them and lead them to our hotel room.

I unlock the door, forfeiting your hand and gesturing you through first. Gerard follows immediately after, giving you a firm slap on the arse. Pablo walks past me, giving me a lustful look. I smirk up at him.

You are already on the bed when I close the door and toe out of my shoes. Pablo kicks off his shoes as well. Gerard stands by the edge of the bed, as though he is waiting for his cue. "Take off your shoes." I make it a very clear order. You shudder in anticipation. Gerard looks over his shoulder and furrows his brow at me. "Oh she is sooo in charge." You titter. "Oh is she now." Gerard toes out of his shoes and joins you on the bed.

"You're the smallest one here." Pablo puts his hands on my shoulders, standing behind me. His warm and scent surround me. I heave a happy little sigh. "Yes I know, I am short, and bossy." I cooe. "But you are so good." You add lustily. "Why thank you baby." I purr.

Pablo squeezes my shoulders and I lean back into him.

"What are you waiting for?" I ask Gerard. He raises his brow at me. "Do what you want." I make it another order. Gerard chuckles huskily. "I think we got our work cut out for us." he tells Pablo. "I can handle some work." Pablo replies. Gerard climbs into bed with you. You open your arms for him. "Eager, are you?" He growls, his accent deepening a little. "Oh you havee no idea." I cooe.

"Can he please kiss me now." You pout. "I don't know, can he?" I smirk. "Please, Mommah, please." You whine. "Mommah?" Both men chorus. "I hear an echoe." I chuckle. "Go on, kiss her." I firmly order Gerard. "Just don't make me call you mommah, too." Gerard chuckles, before climbing on top of you. "I wouldn't dare." I lean back against Pablo.

You put your arms around Gerard's neck and tease the hair in his nape. Gerard groans and leans his forehead against yours. You whine softly and arch into him. "Needy little kitten." I remark. "Very needy." Gerard agrees. He closes the distance then, finally putting you out of your misery. You whimper against his lips. You feel his strength, surrounded with his warmth and his scent. Gerard is very eager, licking at the seam of your lips. You open up for him, meeting his tongue eagerly with your own. He tastes like whiskey and churros. You moan softly.

"You want to watch?" Pablo asks me.

I turn slowly to him. "I'd rather get some myself." I purr, cupping his cheek. Pablo chuckles huskily and cups my cheek. "Then get some." He rumbles. I stand on my very tippy toes. Pablo closes his eyes. I close the last distance, pressing my lips against his. He heaves a soft sigh and presses down against me. I moan sweetly into his mouth.

He begins backing me up to the bed. I let him.

I lay down beside you. Pablo is on me again, at once. I run one hand into his dark hair and search out yours with my other. You squeeze my hand. I moan excitement coarsing through my veins with the fact we are going to experience this together.

Gerard presses himself down on you. You buck your pelvis up at him. He groans and begins to grind. You make a soft whining sound and his tongue caresses yours. His hand slowly starts at your clothes, tugging and fiddling. You are not working with him, not yet. That would ruin all the tension and half the fun. And you don't want to get ahead of me by too much. You know I do warm up quick, but reach the finish line much slower.

Pablo nudges my legs open with his knee and nests between my thighs. I moan lewdly, the noise making you yet wetter. Pablo groans back at me, grinding down. "Let's get em undressed." Gerard growls. You giggle. "Yeah, we are all easy access and they are too hard to get to." You agree. "I was actually refering to you and your girl." Gerard tells you huskily. "Well, Tessa first, then." You cooe.

You're in naught but a tight dress and panties, where as I am wearing booty shorts, boxers, calvins and a tank. I am most certainly wearing more.

"I am not in a hurry." I murmur, kissing along Pablo's jaw. "But you defo need longer to heat up." You pout. I reach out and pull you into a slow, lewd kiss. "This is not a race. Enjoy this man, enjoy me." I purr. "Yes mommy." You cooe. "Good kitten." I purr. We kiss once more and I hear both men suck in their breath.

You feel Gerard's hand slowly creep up your thigh. You giggle and close your thighs on his hand. Gerard gruns, groping you lewdly, though he does not yet press his ascend. Pablo rucks up my shirt, pulling it up over my calvins. "Lookie there." He growls. "You like?" I cooe, barely breaking the kiss. "Fuck yeah." Pablo growls, yank down my bralette, my breasts popping free. He groans and lewdly gropes at my chest. His hands are vast and strong and I feel deliciously tiny.

You break away from the kiss to happily watch Pablo grope me. "Her nipples are very sensitive." You tell him playfully. Pablo casts his eyes to you. "Are yours?" He asks. You shake your head. "Shame." Gerard murmurs. But he pulls your dress up till your collarbones either way. You gasp in faux indignation. "You have great tits, baby." I cooe, pulling you into another kiss. "Gona cover them in hickies anyway." Gerard leans in.

The Scotsman's lips connect to the skin between your breasts. He sucks and then nips. His beard scratches at your skin. You press yourself against him, breath growing deeper. "Feels good, doesn't it." I purr. "Y-yeah.. Yes it does." You mewl. "Good, that is good to hear." I cooe, stroking your cheek.

Pablo leans down to seal his lips over my nipples. I moan eagerly. "Sounds good, huh?" You taunt Pablo. "Fuck she does." Pablo growls against my breast. He nips my tender flesh and his hand sinks to my shorts. I will most certainly not manage to stay clothes for long now. And I know neither will you.

Because Gerard's pulls your dress up over your head, tossing it away. "Hmm, pretty soft skin." He growls, leaning in again to nip along your neck. You whine softly and squirm below him. You can feel your insides begin to throb. You wriggle, so his thigh is between your legs, pressed up against your panties. "Tell him what you want." I order. You whine softly in reply.

I stroke your cheek. "I know it is hard, but you will be rewarded." I cooe. "But mommaaah." You whimper. Gerard grabs you by the face, making you look up at him. "Tell me." He orders. You squirm against his thigh. He tenses his muscle and leans a bit into it. Softly you mewl, rocking your pelvis against him. "That what you need?" He growls. "Y-ye-yes." You stammer. "Good kitten." I purr. Gerard begins to grind his thigh against your clothed cunt. You let out a soft gasp and roll your pelvis expertly. "Good kitten." Gerard growls. The sound of his voice shakes you to your core. "M-more." You stammer. "No, not yet, let your girl catch up." Gerard smirks, shaking his head.

"Imma take my sweet damn time now." Pablo chuckles, sucking a hicky on my breast. I moan, raking my nails over his scalp. "Fuck, I love how loud you are." He grunts. His lips close on my other nipple and I mewl, pressing his face against my tender flesh. He groans eagerly. "I love your noises, too." I cooe. Pablo grins and gives my nipple a firm nip. I squeal lewdley.

My sounds and Gerard's thigh are pushing you rapidly to the edge. "S-so close." You whisper. "What more do you need?" Gerard asks. You meekly shake your head. "Ju-just more.." You whine. "More of the same?" Gerard raises his eyebrows. "More of the same." I affirm. So Gerard grinds himself more firmly against you. You feel his cock through the cloth of his kilt. You squirm, eager to feel him inside you.

You trail your hands down his broad back, to his kilt. You flip the tartan cloth up, to discover your fingers slide across naked skin. This pushes you impossibly closer to the edge. "Ah-almost." You gasp. Your inner walls are already tightening on nothing. You whine at how empty you feel.

"She is so ready to cum." I encourage Gerard. He yanks down your panties, pushing his bare thigh against your naked cunt. A few more grinds does the trick very well and you shudder and spasm as you cum. "Isn't that good. Such a good kitten." I murmur, stroking your hair and your face. "I want to cum again." You whisper. "I'm sure Gerard will open up, before he gives you his cock." I purr. "Of course I will." Gerard agrees.

He fully pulls off your dress and panties and backs up a little to gaze down on you. "Oh, I do like what I see." He grows, in a deeper accent than afore. "Thank you sir." You mewl. "You're good girl. ain't ya." Gerard chuckles. "Today I am." You agree. "Just today?" Gerard furrows his brow. You giggle and draw down his kilt. "Just for you." You tease.

Gerard shirks his kilt and begins at his shirt. You tense a little in anticipation.

"Waaaay ahead of us." Pablo jokes.

"We'll put on a show once they are done." I tease. "No need to play catch up, huh?" Pablo rumbles. "Take your time on me." I encourage him. He groans, nuzzling his face between my breasts. "Gladly." He growls. His huge hand trails to my hip. He hooks his fingers into my shorts, making the button pop on own accord. "Eager, huh?" He growls. "For you, of course." I reply. He pulls down my shorts and my boxers. "Fuuuck." He groans, his eyes casting down to my cunt.

"Glistening already." He taunt.

"She's like, always wet." You inform him. Pablo bites his lip and pulls my folds apart with one big thumb. "Pretty pink pussy." He growls. "Now what was that about catching up?" Gerard chuckles. "Not gona work either way." You reply. "No?" Pablo frowns at me. I shake my head. "I take a good while to get there." I say softly, hoping it doesn't disappoint Pablo. "I'll put my full focus on it, then." He rumbles, putting all my worries to rest.

He kisses down my belly. I moan softly, seeking out your hand. You twine your fingers with mine. We squeeze each other's hands.

Gerard runs his thumb from the top of your folds to halfway down, pushing on. Slowly he pushes in. "Fek you are tight." He pushes on, his thumb into you as far as he can manage. You rock your pelvis into his touch. "Good kitten." Gerard growls. I squeeze your hand. I let you know I am with you all the way, no matter who you choose to focus on most. No matter who I choose to focus on most. We do this together, we enjoy this together. No matter who cums when, or with whom.

Gerard pulls his thumb from you, replacing it with his middlefinger. The digit is thick and dexterous. He fucks you slowly with it, making that come hither movement. It does not take you long to cum again, squirming and squeezing my hand. "So pretty when you cum." I whisper, pulling you into a kiss.

I moan against your lips when I feel Pablo part my folds with his tongue. He swiftly finds my clit, sucking down on it. Wetness gushes thickly from my core. Pablo groans and licks it up. "Taste so fucking good." He groans, before he fucks me on his tongue. I let my tongue slip into your mouth in my turn, moaning loudly.

"Three times already." Gerard growls as the noises I make get you to cum again. "You better be glad I am not keeping score." He taunts Pablo, slowly working a second finger into you. You moan softly, too. Our tongues rub softly together and you reach your free hand out to my breast. I run my free hand into your hair.

"Fucking look at them, man." Gerard grunts. Pablo chuckles against my folds, sucking leisurely at my clit. You pinch my nipple and I feel my inner muscles clench on nothing. I break the kiss. "Put a finger in me." I order. Pablo obliges right away. "It is so sexy when you give orders." You purr, dipping your head down to suck on one of my nipples. I moan and firmly tug your hair. The trinity of stimuli is absolutely doing the trick for me. "That's the ticket!" I moan loudly.

My inner muscles contract on Pablo's fingers over and over again and I cum, hard. "Fuck yeah." Pablo groans.

"Now let's fuck em." Gerard says, pulling his fingers from you. You whine at the loss. Pablo nods, forfeiting my cunt as well.

They both position their cocks against our cores. "You ready for him, baby?" I cooe. "Oh yes please." You purr. "Fuck her, champ." I instruct Gerard. He of course wasted no time. And neither does Pablo, he pushes in with a deep, sated groan. "Fuck, so tight." Gerard growls. Pablo nods in agreement. "And so fucking wet." He grunts.

They fuck us, both in brutal grueling paces. I moan almost continuously and you kiss me to taste the utter lewdity of it. Pablo and Gerard groan and grunt, creating a wicked cacophony. You cum again, clinging to Gerard's cock. "Holy fek." Gerard groans. It is his undoing and he empties himself inside you.

Pablo does not seem done yet and I am no way about to cum again. But you know of course just the trick. Your hand slowly slithers down my belly, between Pablo's body and my own, to rub at my clit. I cry out, loudly. I smirk and lean in to suck on my nipple as well. I am utterly unable to control the noises I make, squealing and gasping as I am pushed into the second apex of my pleasure. "Holy shit." Pablo groans, hilting himself and spending his seed at the mouth of my womb.

Panting, we all lay beside each other. Some seed dribbled from both our pussies. You grin a sated grin at me. "Round two?" I tease, pulling you in for a kiss. Both men laugh loudly.

#belated val's day gift #smut under the cut #I love my GF

[fiveraccoonsinatrenchcoat]

Romeo And Juliet (Or Some Other Romantic Shit Like That) Ch. 2

Eddie Munson x f!reader

Series Description: The Saturday night slot at The Hideout is open, and Corroded Coffin thought they were a shoo-in. When it goes to a different band, however, Eddie becomes more that a little distracted by their pretty bassist.

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Chapter Description: The boys of Corroded Coffin come face to face with the girls of Seductress. Eddie comes face to face with you. To call it a shitshow would be an understatement.

Warnings: Alcohol mentions, smoking, language, Eddie is down so bad.

Word Count: 1705

Notes: Thank you for all of the kind words on the last chapter, it seriously means so much!

Eddie found himself in a bit of a predicament as he and his bandmates walked backstage at The Hideout.

 He could practically feel the hostility radiating off of them as they weaved their way through the dingy back hallways of the venue. The anger they all harbored towards the band that stole their Saturday night spot was slowly beginning to morph into embarrassment because, fuck, they were good.  The other members of Corroded Coffin were getting themselves ready to put up one hell of a fight, but all Eddie could think about was trying to get the redness in his cheeks to disappear before they got to the green room, before you would be able to see it.

The four of you had just ended your set when you saw the boys walk in. You were sweaty and tired, and the only thing keeping you standing was the adrenaline rushing through all of you. You’d been perfect. Every note, every cue, you’d missed nothing, and clearly the crowd at The Hideout loved it, too. Tonight’s performance was a bit of a trial run; see how it goes, and if people liked it, you’d get to come back every week. Thankfully, everyone really, really liked it. 

Everyone, it seemed, except for the angry men who’d just barged into your greenroom.

“Hey, assholes, don’t you knock?!” Tonya, your vocalist, yelled as they walked in. “We coulda been naked or some-wait, I know you, don’t I?”

“Shit, yeah!” Harriette added as she tossed her drumsticks onto the dusty old couch against the wall. “You guys are-fuck, what was it? Decomposed something, right?”

“No, no,” Jessa corrected, flicking the hardware on her guitar case shut. “It was eroded, I think?”

“Corroded Coffin,” Gareth spat out, arms crossed. He was trying to look intimidating, but it wasn’t really working all that well. “It’s Corroded Coffin.”

“Yeah,  yeah, I knew it was something dumb like that,” Tonya muttered. 

Ouch. 

“I thought that’s what a coffin was supposed to do, though?” you piped up from your corner as you carefully tucked your bass away. 

“Yeah, all coffins corrode eventually,” Harriette added. 

Okay, maybe they hadn’t thought about it like that before. 

“What, like Seductress is so much better?” Jeff prodded. 

“Seductress is simply a description,” Tonya said as she began to scrub off the dark makeup around her eyes. She paused for a moment to gesture to the girls around her. “Of yours truly.”

‘That’s a very apt description,’ Eddie thought to himself, before immediately internally chastising the idea. He was not allowed, under any circumstances, to think that, even if that is what you all have decided to call yourselves.

“Wouldn't it have to be Seductresses, then? If it was referring to all four of you?” 

“Doesn’t quite have that same ring, though, does it, girls?” Tonya shot back. You, Jessa, and Harriette mumbled out half-hearted agreements, though none of you bothered to look up from what you were doing. Despite the fact that the three of you seemed utterly disinterested in the gaggle of boys crowding the doorway, Tonya just couldn’t turn down the chance to pick a fight. You’d all gotten so used to Tonya’s fighting spirit and constant, useless arguing at this point that you would be able to go along with her in your sleep if you had too. Sometimes it was funny; she’d occasionally get into drunken arguments about music or movies with assholes at parties, and watching her slur about Siouxsie Sioux and accidentally slosh her drink down the poor guy's clothes could actually be pretty entertaining. Plus, she was fantastic at embarrassing hecklers at your shows. Usually, though, the three of you just did your best to tune it out until it either resolved itself, or you had to stop a physical altercation from starting. 

Aside from when they barged through the door and scared the shit out of you, you hadn’t even bothered to look up at the group of guys in front of you. You did, eventually, after you realized you might end up having to hold Tonya back if this escalated. You’d had to do that before, all three of you had, and it was nice to have an idea of just how badly things could go. You lifted your gaze and caught the eye of one of the members. 

He hadn’t said anything in the interaction yet, and was trying his best to stay back behind his bandmates. He didn’t have the same palpable anger radiating off of him, and when your eyes met, his grew wide and quickly pointed down towards the sticky floors. You watched him for a moment. 

Why wasn’t he as furious as his bandmates? Marty had mentioned something in passing about giving the open slot to Corroded Coffin; he said the auditions were initially only a formality before your band was chosen (which was partially why he didn’t go; that, and the fact that he was still drunk from the night before) and that he’d have to break the news to them. If you had been promised the primo slot at your home bar only to have it go to a different band, you’d be pretty fucking pissed. Him, though? He seemed to have a look of fear, almost, in his big brown eyes. Not at Tonya, surely. She may look scary, and sometimes she could be, but this was just playful banter to her. She was always a little too mean, but it helped with the image of the band and to keep the sexist assholes at bay. 

Your eyes seemed to have glued themselves to him. He had a flush on his cheeks, which you mostly chocked up to the lack of working air conditioning in the building. His long hair seemed as though it had a mind of its own and as he moved his head, the wispy ends bobbed side to side. You could almost see the ghosts of freckles dotted along his nose, and-

“Hey!” you heard Tonya yell as she tossed a pillow at you. You weren’t fast enough to dodge it, and it hit you square in the head. You heard one of the boys snicker at you as you quickly whipped your head to her and threw the pillow back just as hard, though she was able to catch it before impact. “Will you please back me up on this?”

“On what?” you questioned. You sat down on the mustard yellow couch (probably a bad idea) and haphazardly ripped off your boots so you could apply fresh bandages to the blisters they left on your heels. 

“Maybe if they weren’t such shit musicians, they would have been the ones who played tonight?” There it was. There was always one crucial moment where Tonya blatantly crossed the line, and this was that moment. Thankfully, none of the members of Corroded Coffin had lunged at her or thrown a punch, but they all seemed to be fuming, even the one in the back who hadn’t seemed all that angry to begin with. 

“Obviously if they’re playing here they can’t be complete shit,” you said. You were standing now, and so were Harriette and Jessa. If something physical did break out (knowing Tonya, it was likely), they wanted to be ready. “Rhonda wouldn’t let them if they were. She’s the one who has to listen to all of the bands every night.” 

“Stop trying to talk me down, you know what I mean!” Tonya yelled back at you. Though you had been the target of her biting anger before, it never really stopped being upsetting and the volume of her voice made you flinch just a bit. Harriette noticed, and quickly walked to stand between the two of you.

“Okay, okay!” Harriette said as she raised a hand to Tonya, who’s blue eyes seethed with the anger she was now pointing at her bandmates. Harriette was always best at stopping Tonya in the midst of her angry ravings. “These guys aren’t worth it. How ‘bout a smoke, huh? Maybe clear your head a little bit?”

Tonya, as hostile as she could become, generally came down just as quickly. As her and Harriette elbowed their way out the door, with Jessa in tow to find Marty to get your guys’ pay, you pointed your gaze back to the boys of Corroded Coffin.

“I’m sorry about her,” you said from your spot next to the couch. “She lives to pick as many fights as she can, and she’s got some whiskey in her. That never really helps.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Gareth huffed. They began to leave, but you noticed how the one with the long hair stayed back a moment. The two of you shared a look.

“For what it’s worth,” you said, standing up and walking over to where he stood just outside the door frame. “I’ve heard you play. I don’t think you're a shit musician.”

“You don’t?” Eddie asked in response. He was relieved to hear that you were a little less high and mighty than your lead singer was.

“Nah,” you sighed. “I actually think you’re pretty fuckin’ good.”

You shut the door to the greenroom after you said it, and Eddie was left stranded alone in the hallway of The Hideout with only the flickering fluorescent lights and cockroaches to comfort him. 

He found the rest of his band in the parking lot leaning against his van. He wasn’t the only member of the band that had a driver’s license, but he was the only one that had a reliable vehicle, so he was stuck playing chauffeur most nights. They all filed in and drove home in relative silence, opting to just stew in their anger and embarrassment as opposed to trying to talk about anything else. Eddie dropped them all off one by one, and by the time he got back to the trailer and shut off the van, there was really only one thought playing on repeat in his head.

He had no idea if you thought that Corroded Coffin was pretty fuckin’ good, or if you thought that his playing was pretty fuckin’ good, and he couldn’t decide which one made his stomach flip harder.

Tiny little tag list: @wickedslashdivine @youareadistraction

#romeo and juliet (or some other romantic shit like that) #stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #joseph quinn #st4 #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #stranger things 4 #stranger things x reader #stranger things x y/n #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things x you #stranger things imagines #eddie munson x f!reader

[over-the-time-flow]

Pre-Chapter 5 Upgrades:

Excellence Striker:

Weapons: 4 -> 5

Frieden:

HP: 8400 -> 9200 Armor: 1050 -> 1100

Despite how clear we were about heading "straight for Japan" after last mission, Sara and Kid stop by to tell Jamil that, actually, we should probably stop somewhere. We'll need to stop by somewhere to refuel and to run some maintenance on the Frieden before we can jump right into a long-distance marine trip, so Jamil reroutes our course so as to stop in Shanghai first.

Meanwhile, Garrod's with Tiffa, apologizing for what happened in the last battle. He mentions that he doesn't really understand newtypes all that well, but he's trying his best. Interestingly, Tiffa says she never really thought of herself as one; see, in this world, the use of newtypes as tools of war is so deeply ingrained into how people view them that it feels weird to refer to Tiffa, who for all intents and purposes is a civilian, as one. Of course, that too is a manifestation of how newtypes as a group have suffered, and undoing that damage is also part of Jamil's sworn mission. For him, it is a matter of principle that Tiffa be allowed a normal, peaceful life. And that peaceful life will start once they arrive in Japan, Noin says!

On that topic, Fa's curious; how come Japan specifically was able to sustain so little damage during these tumultuous times? Raj interjects, seemingly having done his homework and then some on the topic. See, this era is what is known as a technological boom for Japan especially. Between photonic, super-electromagnetic, getter, and other alternative energy sources, Japan is in the midst of a veritable gold rush. Though none of these have been adopted in terms of full-scale infrastructure due to being TOO powerful, they are rather far along due to researchers enjoying a high degree of freedom, even during the previous wars. For a long time, colony nations have been trying to attract talent in these fields so they can harness it themselves and acquire further indepence from the Earth, but this effort has been mostly unsuccessful. Even Getter Rays, widely known to be easier to collect in space, hardball these offers; this unity is in an effort to uphold the uneasy peace we enjoy today. If the colonies are too afraid to nip these scientific breakthroughs in the proverbial bud, it's an extra deterrent against particularly destructive attacks on the Earth, such as large scale colony drop operations, and (...)

RAJ YOURE SCARING THE HOES

With Raj blissfully unaware of his social awkwardness, Raul has to step in. See, Raj is what you'd call an energy... enthusiast. He's very well-versed in energy sources (especially ones from our current golden age of energy development), their applications, the political climate surrounding them, and the like. And because of his deep understanding of the subject matter, he's prone to get a bit overeager when it comes up.

Having seemingly ignored the whole thing, Tiffa tells Garrod she had a dream; she dreamt of a giant blue robot and a giant monster fighting. This may not just be the results of Tiffa falling asleep while watching Pacific Rim, however, as Tiffa's dreams are sometimes prophetic.

Some days later, the Frieden is in Shanghai, and almost done with its preparations to set off to Japan. Jamil confirms that the ship is setting off the day after the next, which Witz seems to be glad to hear. On being prodded by Roybea on the matter, he reveals:

Witz: "I was sold these down at the pub. Tickets to Dark Pro Wrestling."

DEEP♂️DARK♂️WRESTLING

Tonya, seemingly interested in "extreme" stuff like that, basically invites herself, but no one else seems interested. Strangely, she asks Garrod if he doesn't wanna come, but he says he wants to be by Tiffa's side. Interested in teasing him a bit, she says he could bring her and then comfort her when she gets scared, which flusters Garrod enough for Amuro to step in and tell her to lay off of him.

Raul isn't interested either, leaving Witz a bit awkward at the prospect of having to go 1 on 1 with Tonya... but not enough to cancel the trip.

Later, at their impromptu wrestling date, Tonya and Witz find themselves amazed at Go Ichimonji, the underground wrestling champ, who has just knocked out 4 people in a row! Who's next on his platter?

Just then, the next challenger, who had taken his time to get there, collapsed before even making it onto the ring. And behind him stood Go's last-minute new challenger:

A man in a beat-up black gi? He says he easily knocked out Go's would-be fifth challenger, and thinks he'll be much more fun of an opponent than that weakling. They quickly get to blows!

During their brawl session, Go calls him an old man, prompting him to angrily introduce himself as Ryoma Nagare! They get back to business, and it seems like Go has gotten the upper hand.

Stepping out of the shadows, a man in a trenchcoat notes that Go has met his expectations. Go assumes he's another last-minute entry, but the man, who goes by Hayato, just exposits about Go's background. He's 17, and fell into the world of underground wrestling after his parents died in an attack by the Dinosaur Empire when he was little. Go isn't exactly ecstatic to find out he has a stalker, but Hayato just continues talking, saying he's just like Ryoma, in turn upsetting Ryoma.

More than happy to speak over people, Hayato just asks him what he thinks of Go. Despite his protests, Ryoma does say Go's definitely good enough, since he managed to fight him evenly... but Hayato doesn't think that Ryoma's skill level as of now is that high of a measuring stick, pissing off Ryoma once more.

Witz, not feeling like he's getting his money's worth, yells for them to just get the action going again, further pissing off Go, who was already frustrated at these two old men just up and deciding to talk about him as if he wasn't there. But before this can escalate into some sort of four-way brawl, a blast shakes the entire venue.

Witz and Tonya get the hell out of there, while Hayato stays just to tell Go one thing:

"Go Ichimonji, if you can't survive this, you have no future."

#srw r #super robot wars r #lets-play #translation

[juanabaloo]

hi! this is so random but I just found hightown and saw you in the tags I was wondering if you recommend it? I wanna watch something with a lesbian couple but it's hard to find shows (I tried station 19 but got bored easily besides the appears couple is on season 3). anyway would u say it's a good written show and good rep? like is it worth it? thanksss

hello hi! i highly recommend Hightown if you are a Monica Raymund fan, she plays Jackie - the supposed main character. (Monica was on the first 6 seasons of Chicago Fire if you happen to be into firefighter shows.) i have randomly seen a few eps of both Chicago Fire and Station 19 (Maya x Carina is the couple you were watching for i think?) and they were just alright.

it's hard to know if you would like Jackie / Hightown without knowing what else you also like. (related, my top 5 sapphic movie recs)

(also disclaimer while i am flattered i'm not a lesbian, i'm bi so def not an expert on lesbian rep)

OK so i'll try to pitch this without too many spoilers.

Pros for watching Hightown

it's short! 3 seasons is only 25 episodes total

Monica Raymund!! she's truly amazing and gorgeous

if you watch BTVS and like Faith Lehane, Jackie to me is like an older but still very fuct up Faith

rated TV-MA in the USA (versus TV-14 for Station 19 and Chicago Fire)

sex and nudity is rated severe in the IMDB parent's guide (versus mild for the other 2 shows)

Jackie has sex and enjoys it, with different women

Jackie is clearly a lesbian and shows no interest in men

there are other women on the show you may find attractive (Renee played by Riley Voelkel, along with fewer appearances by: Charmaine played by Imani Lewis and Leslie played by Tonya Glanz)

Jackie is in a relationship with one woman at some point in the show

the chemistry between Jackie and the one woman is really good, for both sex scenes and softer moments

MILD SPOILER: the relationship lasts for a while (more than a few episodes)

MILD SPOILER: neither Jackie nor the relationship woman die during the show

Cons for watching Hightown

there are a lot of other sex scenes that don't involve Jackie that are hetero (Ray or Frankie)

Ray takes up too much space in the story IMO (i don't find Ray very attractive, so maybe i am biased. i don't mind the space Frankie takes up, and he IS attractive.)

"lesbian couple" is too strong a term for the relationship Jackie has with the one woman

if you believe ACAB - well this is a cop show. Jackie may be a "fish cop" but she's still a cop. (i believe ACAB and just hold my nose.)

not really a con - totally separate from ACAB Jackie is not a good role model. so she might not be good rep.

the one woman has some struggles with understanding her own sexuality (related the show pretends no one is bi)

not really a con - drugs (specifically hard drug use) is rated severe in the IMDB parent's guide

not really a con - Jackie is a real mess, and her struggle with sobriety is a major theme of the show

not really a con - Jackie has a rough relationship with her Dad

there's a lot of angst and drama in this show. if you want a solid lesbian couple / sapphic couple to watch, i don't recommend this show. but if you want to watch Jackie having sex and also root for her and this one woman, you can. if that is your plan then you can basically only watch S1 and S2 and skip all of S3 except for 3x07 the finale. So that would be only 19 episodes.

i can say more but trying not to spoil things. ask if you have more questions!

#hightown #ask #ask answered #mostly spoiler free

[lilbreck]

ST:TOS 104 - The Naked Time

Daughter: AKA: “The Mostly Clothed Time”

The episode opens with a voice over talking about how they’re supposed to be picking up a scientific party, then when they discover the scientists are dead… no reaction. I mean, they could have scanned the planet for life (they apparently can do that according to The Man Trap), but Kirk didn’t mention that in his Captain’s Log and Spock later informs Kirk from the planet’s surface that all station personal are dead. Yes, I’m irrationally irritated by this. Don’t worry, there’s a lot I’m irrationally irritated by in this episode, and I plan to make that everyone’s problem. 😉

My daughter and I both had a laugh over the beekeeper protective suits that Spock and Tormolen were wearing. I mean, the hood portion was open at the bottom, so it was basically useless. I’m also unsure how both weren’t freezing. Sidenote: apparently, these costumes were made from shower curtains. It shows.

Now, let’s talk about the mannequin. The one that is very obviously a store mannequin and not a dead body. When noting the awkward body proportions, my daughter and I both came to the same conclusion:

That mannequin died in a beaming accident! Now, granted, my daughter and I may be the only ones who see this, but it will not leave our heads.

Now listen, I would complain that a scientist would never casually remove his glove in a potentially contaminated area, touch random surfaces and then his face, and then casually put his glove back on, but I’ve actually worked with scientists. Scientists and doctors can be some of the grossest/careless people when it comes to those kinds of things. It’s either that or they’re verging on germaphobia. Not a lot in between.

It’s hilarious that, right after Tormolen (Joe) gets his glove back on, Spock comes in and says, “Be certain we expose ourselves to nothing.” He’s just a bit late on that one. Also, his deadpan delivery of “It’s like nothing we’ve dealt with before” just has me rolling and I’m not sure why. Especially since they really don’t have a lot of information on what happened. For all they know (given that they haven’t really analyzed anything yet) they all could have been drugged.

Was it a contractual obligation to have random dramatic close-ups of Kirk, or was this just really a thing in the 60s? As much as I could take or leave Kirk as a character and Shatner as an actor, the close-ups of him are all stunning.

I want to touch all the bubbly looking buttons and such on that transporter console.

Given that Spock had to physically restrain Joe from stepping off the transporter, it is very obvious that the Enterprise (and probably Starfleet by extension) does not have a decontamination procedure. Honestly, the transporter room itself should be a decon room with the engineers working in a separate booth that does not share an entry/exit with the transporter room. Everyone should automatically be scanned upon beaming up (and down for extra safety). Now, this would not have really helped in this case, unless the computer kept a record of each crewman’s biosignatures to compare against how they are when they beam up.

I may have put a bit too much thought into this.

And another thing…

There was no cleaning/sterilizing/decontaminating of this bed between patients. I’m also failing to see how it’s only reading the patient when both medical personal are leaning on the damn thing. And what is the actual biological reasoning behind having Vulcan pulse rates be so high? I’ve seen people trip over themselves to give in depth theories on how this could be possible… but I’m of the mind that it was just a “see how alien he is?” that they threw in. I told you there was a lot I was irrationally irritated about.

My daughter and I were both rolling our eyes at the casual xenophobic insult McCoy threw at Spock. My daughter files that under “highly unprofessional.” However, I choose to believe it was just two friends ribbing each other.

Joe is absolutely losing it, but the way that Kirk handles the situation reminds me that, although I’m “meh” on him as a character, he does have his subtle moments of showing he’s a very good leader. Also, if Kirk is not a bi/pan hot mess, then why is he always giving men these sultry looks?

Ooh, sidenote, both my daughter and I theorize that everyone wears those black undershirts except Kirk. It’s either that, or every time his Cheapfleet issued shirt gets torn, he just happens to not be wearing it that day.

Here, have a random cap with Chapel in it. I know we usually think of her as being blonde, but her hair is silver here, and in a very… interesting hair style. Does the Enterprise have a ship hairstylist?

Now I get that polywater intoxicates people, but why sweating? It’s possible that sweating is a normal side-effect of being drunk and I’m just weird in that I don’t. Anything is possible. Either way, Joe is an angry/self-hating drunk. Speaking of drunks, let’s talk about what kind of drunk each of the other named crew members are, shall we?

Riley is the flirty drunk who will serenade you, your dog, and your grandma. Sulu is the drunk who will try to lead you on an epic adventure.

Chapel is the horny/romantic drunk who is (obviously) prone to declaring her love and sighing wistfully. Spock is that drunk girl crying in the bathroom.

And Kirk? He seems to be a very angry and bitter drunk. Not cute.

I would just like to note that this “respirator” attaches to nothing. I know, advanced technology and everything… but it still makes me laugh. As does this device that could be a blowtorch, cordless hand vacuum, or lord knows what.

Behold, Sulu hotness. Given the sweat, it’s hotness in more ways than one. Also, Sulu has pockets!

Uhura, as per usual, is absolutely divine. Also… I kinda ship this as well.

Given how sweaty Sulu was, both Kirk and Spock (and Uhura) should be infected at this point. In fact, I choose to believe Spock is, and that’s why he seems to exhibit symptoms so quickly after Chapel touches him.

Behold: a child’s crude drawing of Texas. An artist Scotty is not. Nor, it seems, is he very safety conscious. He really should try some eye protection.

Rand, once again, being harassed. Not gonna lie, I was scared we were gonna get creeper!Chapel here. Thank goodness she’s not that kind of drunk.

This moment here with Kirk and Uhura snapping at each other and then apologizing and smiling? I love it. I also think it’s a sign that they’re already infected. I don’t care what the episode tries to say, they touched Sulu’s sweaty skin, so they’re infected.

I think this is the only unrequited relationship I have ever really shipped. I love this tragically doomed-in-romance Chapel, even while I’m hoping that it’s one of the things they change about her Strange New Worlds.

During the fight scene between Kirk and an obviously infected Spock, my daughter was chanting “Slap fight! Slap fight!” repeatedly. Yes, she giggled near uncontrollably and I was amused.

What I do find interesting, and what never seems addressed, is that Spock just… randomly recovers. At first slowly, then he’s pretty much recovered when Scotty comes in.

I like how, during Kirk’s speech here, he talks both about how he’s very much noticed Rand, and he displays his resentment for and devotion to the Enterprise. For all that I can see why people ship Kirk with various other characters, I can’t see him ever choosing any of them over the ship. He’s very much married to it, in my opinion. Hell, he even told that ship that he would never lose it.

I would just like to state that there is absolutely no reason they had to wait for Kirk to get to the bridge. He did absolutely nothing except tell them “engage,” which a randomly no-longer affected Spock could have done from engineering and got them out of it that much sooner. However, we would then no longer have had these dramatic scenes:

End notes:

Daughter: I headcanon that Chapel collects wigs and, in this episode, admits that even she doesn’t know what she sees in Spock. Spock crying in this episode was unsettling and it’s possible that they have a shirt-ripping quota. Also, in the future, men wear space-heels!

Me: One thing I keep forgetting about this episode, but which is important, is that it helped establish the idea of time travel in the Star Trek universe. I’m not sure if that was for the better or worse, but it did establish it.

End of episode tallies (details by daughter)

Unprofessional Behavior: 02 (Joe taking off his glove and scratching his nose on a planet where causes of death are unknown, McCoy insulting Spock. All other instances are either under the influence or life-or-death situations.) Total: 07

Starfleet Are Cheapskates: 01 (Kirk’s shirt tore. Again. Apparently, this is going to be a running theme.) Total: 03

Reasons Why Enterprise Needs a Counselor: 02 (Joe’s breakdown, Sulu and Riley witnessing his suicide attempt) Total: 04

Early Episode Weirdness: 00 (Nothing here, to my knowledge) Total: 05

In The Future, We Like It Retro: 01 (mentions of tapes) Total: 02

We Should Have a Rule for That: 02 (The lack of standard biohazard procedures are why this episode happened. There’s also a lack of eye protection when sawing through the wall. Nothing happens, but it could have. Mom blames Kirk for that one.)

#star trek #star trek: the original series #tonya watch along #star trek: tos

[ecsundance]

First few days of Sundance

For the second blog post at Sundance I have decided to talk about my experience as I walked around and took in what was surrounding me. The first day at the festival was amazing and I had the pleasure of watching two amazing films. I got to see How To Have Sex, and Lolla: The Story of Lollapalooza. Lolla was an episodic viewing where we got to see one of three parts of the documentary series that will premiere on Paramount Plus. I think that these were both films that were a great way to kickstart my experience at Sundance. The next few days involved me going to different talks and panels that had a lot of filmmakers up on the stage talking about their process and what inspired them. I found these talks extremely enlightening because I really have absolutely no experience with filmmaking and I loved seeing passionate people talk about what they love. 

The first talk that I went to had first time filmmakers talking about their process and how they got into Sundance. It was super interesting to hear all of these directors’ stories because all of them differed but had a similar theme. The theme was that they were all making films that meant something to them and they were able to put their actual experiences into their films. This was so fascinating to see because of the amount of movies that I have watched, so it really had me wondering what experiences other directors have had and how those experiences have influenced their art. I was especially excited to see that the director of Exhibiting Forgiveness was actually on the panel. I am seeing this film so when I got more details on the meaning behind the film I was delighted to listen to what he had to say. 

On one of our bus trips to the festival we met an older woman named Rosie who is a publicist who is working on a film in New Jersey. This piqued my interest because I am from New Jersey so I immediately got her contact information along with some of my peers. Rosie ended up calling one of my peers inviting us to the Macro Lounge which was a super cool experience. I felt so professional as I entered the building and saw cool drinks and saw all of the cameras. This second event that we went to was also a panel of people from Africa, Barbados, and the Caribbean who discussed the difficulties that they have faced in the film industry and how they have gotten around those obstacles. Something that I found interesting was that there are so many different limitations to filmmaking depending on where you live in the world. While we were at the event we met Tonya Michelle who is a writer/director who talked to us about acting as a professional in the film industry. I really trusted her input because of her credentials. I gained a lot from this experience because it was one of my first private events and I loved feeling apart of the professional world. 

Samantha Levy

#sundance #indie #sundancefilmfestival #sundance 2024 #film review #indiefilm

[tgon]

The Nightmare Room #11, Scare School | Review

Title: The Nightmare Room 11 – Scare School

Author: R.L. Stine

Cover Artist: Tristan Elwell

INTRODUCTION

William George Crush conceived of a publicity stunt in 1896 where he would slam two uncrewed steam engines into each other. Something to the tune of forty-thousand people showed up to watch the spectacle. Three guesses which State this was in. When the boilers exploded at the moment of impact, two people were killed by flying shrapnel. Wikipedia generously describes the outcome as ‘unexpected.’

The spirit of Billy Crush is alive and well online. In fact, MrBeast slammed a train into a giant pit earlier this year, but his kill count remains at zero ⁠(for now). Crush’s disregard for human life is more embodied by pranksters like Kan-Hua Ren, who made headlines when he tricked a homeless man into eating toothpaste. Shockingly, he and Crush both skirted jailtime.

There’s undeniable horror to these anecdotes. Stunts and pranks become terrifying when they’re taken too far. Thankfully, this next story is strictly fiction, but it taps into the same horror. Today’s entry sees a young man tormented by a relentless prankster.

STORY REVIEW

Sam was expelled from his last school after a heated “shoving match.” He’s right up there with Dennis The Menace and Two Gun Crowley. His new school resembles a prison, but this is the only place that’ll accept him. Sam is shocked when he arrives and is confronted by a tiny green monster. Shovers can’t be choosers, Sam. The creature tags our protagonist and runs off. If it stayed a moment longer, it’d be in for the shoving of a lifetime.

Sam gets to class and asks some valid questions along the lines of Why was that hall monitor green? Everyone else wants to change the subject. At lunch, Sam is horrified to learn his potatoes are crawling with beetles. Kid, that isn’t the only beetly surprise this week. He’s shocked once more by a secret message etched into his meal tray. It says: “READ MY LETTER: WHO WILL DROP FIRST?”

This is shocking to Sam because how could a beetle have written this message if they don’t even have thumbs? A girl named Tonya explains that the message actually came from an evil imp who has decided to torment Sam. I made a joke about a literate beetle, and somehow the real explanation sounds less plausible. Eventually, Sam has another close encounter with the imp. It becomes a clothes encounter when the little dude steals Sam’s coat. Sam responds by shoving that imp so hard its tail pops off. Sam is now doomed to be pranked to death.

Things get wackier. Apparently, people will send live animals to Sam’s house because Sam’s dad used to work in a zoo. Nobody asks for permission, mind you. He just randomly recieves animals in the mail. And it’s important that they’re with him because ????. This is how Sam’s family accquires a rabbit. The rabbit is only in the story so Stine can do a fakeout where Sam finds bones and thinks the rabbit was killed, but the rabbit has actually been taken to the top of the school flagpole. And the rabbit is only at school in the first place because Sam’s dad demanded he bring it to school to show off. If Sam doesn’t show off this rabbit at school, that’d mean the poor thing was traumatized by FedEx for no good reason. But where did the bones come from? Who was bones?!

If you went back in time and tried to describe this story, they’d either form a religion around you or burn you at the stake. Imagine staring at a pilgrim and trying to explain any of this. “Imps can disguise themselves as human, but they choose names that reveal their true identity. The DROP FIRST message that Sam recieved was actually a clue to drop the first letter in their name. Tim Poster becomes Imposter! I forgot to mention there was a character named Tim Poster. Do you smell smoke? Why are my legs warm?”

Sam uncovers an imp infestation, meaning there are at least four villains. If you’ve seen Scream 6, it was a little like that. This revalation comes to a head the night of the band recital. In front of the whole school, four imps encircle our hero and dance around him. Not a regular dance. A menacing dance. Sam gains the upper hand when he turns the ordeal into a silly dance. The whole crowd assumes this is part of the show. They laugh hysterically. Since imps can’t stand to be the butt of a joke, they wither away.

The principal congratulates Sam on defeating the imps and asks if he can help the school with its troll problem. This is explained in one paragraph on the last page.

THE VERDICT

On a blog dedicated to weird books, this is the weirdest one I’ve reviewed in at least a couple years. I appreciate that aspect of it. Then again, I wonder how I’d react if I read the book while experiencing a headache. I’d probably throw it so hard against the wall it’d blow clean through and smack a pedestrian half-a-block away.

Have a happy Halloween!

BEST QUOTE

“It’s war,” I said. “Me against the imp.”

#books #horror #nostalgia #review #goosebumps #the nightmare room #PazReviews

[alienhazy]

Jude 1:6

When I was born, I suffered two strokes while being held by the doctor.

My mom tells me that that was what caused my paralysis; two strokes, back-to-back, resulting in permanent damage to my brain and body. I can't talk, can't use the bathroom by myself, can't move any part of my body besides my fucking eyelids. When you're trapped in your own body, while everyone around you treats you as if you've never had an intelligent thought in your life, you start to harbor some resentment to the very people trying to help you, even if you can't do anything about it.

As a kid, I was very alone. I was the only child, and my mom had had me out of wedlock, which meant that I didn't have a dad, either. You'd think that as a result of this I would be close to my mom, would love and trust her, and yeah, maybe back then that was true. She never talked down to me, never treated me like I was some brain dead vegetable, cared for me…

For a while.

I'm sitting in my room watching the sun come up after another sleepless night of beeping machines, blinking lights, and the hissing of my CPAP that I wasn't wearing, since Mom had gone to bed drunk for the third night this week and hadn't put it on me. I wasn't sleeping, so it wasn't like it mattered, but that didn't mean that I wasn't extremely mad about it—I could literally die, and had I gone to sleep I probably would've. Maybe that was what she wanted.

Had it been any other day besides Thursday, the sound of the key in the lock of the front door would've scared me a bit, since my mom didn't have any friends and I certainly didn't, either; however, I knew who it was, and as if on cue, my nurse Tonya could be heard making her way down the hallway towards my room, her keys jingling and hard-soled shoes tapping against the (once pretty) hardwood floors. She said something before she entered the room, but I couldn't make out what it was, squeaking of the door hinges announcing her arrival in time with her sweet, cheery voice greeting, "Good morning, Billie Willie!"

I wanted to be mad that she called me that, but I could never be mad at her. She was the nicest person I knew and took really good care of me, even if my mom gave her problems by insisting we didn't even need a nurse. Bitch. "Oh, you're up already! And looks like your mom took care of your CPAP, too. Ready for your bath?"

Although I could move my eyes, I didn't and continued to stare out the window, that aching, horrible, unending sadness that always came around during the night sitting like a weight in my chest, the only thing I could feel on that part of my body; from my right, Tonya came into view and blocked the window as she began unhooking me from my machines, her dark skin flawless as always, the pretty emerald of her makeup matching the scrubs she was wearing, along with the necklace that dangled in front of my face as she checked my intubator. I've always thought she was the most beautiful person I'd ever seen, and was secretly glad when her transfer to a different patient was canceled after they died—you didn't hear that from me, though. "How do you like my new perfume? Blink for me," She requested, and I did so, blinking twice to tell her that it smelled good, because it did. Tonya smiled and gave my nose a boop, which, if it'd been anyone besides her, I would be pissed, but I know she did it because that was just how she was. "Good, I'll put some on you after your bath."

Off we went to the bathroom, Tonya pushing me in my wheelchair out of the doorway and down the hall, past my mom's room, which had the door cracked open; inside, briefly, I could see her passed out on her bed, holding her stuffed dog with a bottle of coconut rum (her favourite) on the floor, the lid gone and half the contents of the bottle spilled out everywhere. Had I been able to, I would've sneered, but instead I returned my eyes to the wall, the pictures hanging there beginning to collect dust; I'd seen them a million times before, but no matter how often they whiz by on my way to the bathroom, I still can't recognize any of the people in them.

Tonya used my foot in my stirrup to push the halfway ajar door to the bathroom open, her voice edging on sad when she saw the state of it; it was still exactly the same as she'd left it when she was here two days ago, my mom not even bothering to clean it or take care of the dirty laundry, the towel that was dropped on the floor soaking wet and starting to smell like mold. "Jesus Christ—oop, I mean, dang," She said in a hushed tone, coming around from the back of me to start picking everything up. "Gimme one second, Billie, I'm just gonna get this stuff put away." She lifted the wet towel between two fingers with a disgusted face, her perfectly manicured nails serving as tongs to hold it so she wouldn't have to actually touch it.

I hated how dirty the house was. I liked for things to be neat and orderly, everything in its place and organized for ease of access, but my mom was the exact opposite of that; she used to clean, I remember, singing along to music playing on the TV and giving me a little concert as she vacuumed. That was years ago now. I couldn't have been older than 12, and now, at the ripe old age of 20, my mom wasn't even a ghost of her former self.

I'd probably only been sitting alone in the bathroom for about ten minutes when Tonya came back with a clean towel, the front of her scrubs dampened around her pudgy stomach and normally bright face full of worry. However, she wiped that look away and gave me a smile, beginning to undress me so I could have my first bath since the last time she was here. "Off come the pants!" She announced as she always did, pulling them off of me with more ease than I expected, no matter how many times she'd done this; next was my underwear, then my shirt and bra, and before I knew it I was naked and being put into my bathing harness, the whirr of the motor lowering me into the tub the only sound in the quiet space around us. "Oh, forgot to fill the tub! Sorry if it's cold on your butt, Billie," She apologized, letting the machine finish its business as she plugged up the drain and started the water—lukewarm, how I preferred it. She had actually asked me when she'd done this for the first time, unlike my mom, who just used whatever came out of the faucet, even if it was ice cold.

She was right about the tub being cold on my butt and back, and there was some kind of pain, too, on my legs, which only got worse as the water reached me and began pooling around my body. I looked over to her and blinked as fast as I could, which wasn't very, a vain attempt to get her attention; she was busy with getting my shower stuff out from under the sink, though, and didn't turn around to look at me until the water was at my stomach, turning it off with a swiftness. The click of the top of the soap being opened, the splash of the water from her filling a cup, and then my body was being cascaded with water so temperate I could barely feel it, Tonya beginning to wash me with a soft, natural sponge—it'd been a gift from her. She said that it would help keep my skin soft, and although I wouldn't know if it worked, I did enjoy the way it felt when she washed me, making bath time that much more enjoyable. "Alright, I'm gonna roll you over, brace yourself."

I laughed internally at her joke, and she laughed aloud, a little chuckle escaping her always smiling face as she turned me slightly on my side, just enough to access my back and butt.

A pause. The energy in the room grew cold, Tonya's hands on my upper back stopping in their motions and in their tracks—what was she looking at? I got the chance to ask her, because she turned me back around and looked at me with complete seriousness, though there was that signature concern she seemed to always get whenever something was out of place. I blinked a couple times, and she held my hand, looking me in the eyes. "Billie, I need you to be honest with me, okay? Has your mom been taking care of you? You…" A beat, then she continued, "You have a few bed sores on your back, small ones, all the way down to your thighs. Blink once if she isn't."

Bed sores, huh? Well it was about time that something like that happened; usually, Mom would shift me around every couple hours, even if it was just rolling me to one side on my bed, but ever since Tonya had been here the last time, she hadn't done anything. I was surprised she even fed me.

I blinked once.

Tonya sighed, her head dropping and shoulders going with it into a slump. Nothing was said besides a whispered, "Okay," and then she continued in washing me, silence filling the room even as the water lapped against the side of the tub.

After my bath, Tonya finished up my basic needs like changing my bedpan, making sure I had all my medicine, along with a number of other things I didn't get to see due to where she'd put me in my room; my bed sores needed special treatment, but thankfully she'd already brought some stuff needed for it beforehand, like the mattress overlay to take pressure off the wounds and dressing to clean and cover them. I was kind of excited to get to lay in my bed, for once, as normally being confined there with only the lilac walls as entertainment was enough to bring me to tears, but I'd been in my wheelchair for a couple days now, and was really starting to get tired—it wasn't exactly the most comfortable thing in the world. For longer than a few hours, anyway.

Cleaning wasn't exactly a part of Tonya's job description; given the state of our house, however, it made sense that she'd want to get at least some done—that's what she told me, anyway, before leaving me there on my bed. From outside my window, I heard the sound of kids laughing and feet running on concrete, causing a pang of sadness to bite at my insides. Yeah, I've never known what it's like to walk, to talk, to do anything besides sit there and stare, but even just those small sounds, those of happy children with friends and working legs, was enough to make my eyes slide shut, my entirety wallowing in that melancholy ocean, slipping further and further beneath the waves, sinking like a stone.

I'd been fed, medicated, bathed, and now that my clothes were clean and my bed was made, I was quickly falling asleep, the sound of Tonya doing the dishes and the feeling of tears running down my cheeks the last sensations I experienced before I drifted off.

+

It was late when I woke, but not terribly; my eyes flickered open to the sight of the sun shining through my window at a slight angle, indicating it was probably somewhere around 3PM, which meant that Tonya had been gone for a while now. If I'd been able to sigh, I would've.

A blanket of eerie silence had covered the whole house, not even the low murmur of the TV in the living room breaking it—was Mom still in bed? It wasn't unusual for her to sleep late, but even at her worst, she still made sure to get up and check on me before heading back to sleep. Part of me wondered if she'd finally died, the alcohol and abuse of my pain medicine creating that fatal concoction that took her in her sleep, but even as I had that thought, I knew it wasn't true. I could hear the creaking of her bed, the quick dragging shuffle of her slippered feet to the bathroom, the retching into the toilet as she puked up last night's dinner of liquor and pills.

She never used to be like this. My mom had always been sad, the result of a boyfriend that ghosted her the second he found out she was pregnant, a mom who died only days after I was born, her siblings taking all her mom's money and leaving her nothing with which to care for her now disabled daughter. I'd watched her fight for even a crumb from the state, watched her grow and change just as she did me, but instead of her becoming stronger, she only deteriorated. It was sort of like we were mirror images of each other, my body physically reflecting the state of her mind—trapped and broken, hurting, angry. I used to feel bad, when I was younger, that I was requiring so much of my mother in order to live, and as a result forcing her to sacrifice her entirety. I remember when she used to read to me, not any books from the library, but stories she'd written just to entertain and please me. We would go on walks, hang out together, regardless of the fact that I could say and do nothing.

Yeah, I used to love my mom. But that was before she stopped loving me.

The faucet in the bathroom was turned on, and I heard Mom brushing her teeth and spitting into the sink, then heard the flick of the light switch, followed by her drag-shuffle back down the hall; however, she didn't go to her room. Instead, she stopped in front of mine, pausing as though deciding whether or not to check on the vegetable—me. Must've felt guilty, because she did, opening my door and entering very silently, no longer dragging her feet, but instead she walked as though she was trying not to make any noise. From the corner of my eye, I could see her stop beside me, her raggedy pajama shirt only barely showing off the shorts she'd been wearing since I was a baby. Her eyes were sunken, the bags under them puffy and dark; to be honest, she looked like she'd been crying, and had it not been a nightly occurrence, I would've felt bad (I still did, somewhere inside me, but it'd long since frozen over). "You're in bed," She said, her voice hoarse. "I guess it is Thursday."

Silence. She didn't move and neither did I, only looking at her out of the corner of my eyes as I stared up at the ceiling, making shapes out of the popcorn drywall. After a few seconds, she sat beside me, then gently pushed me aside, enough to give her room to lay down. Been a while since she did this.

More silence. It was at this point, when I could bare it no longer and finally decided to look at her, that I noticed she was holding a syringe. The fluid inside was clear, there was no label, nor was there a needle—it was just the syringe. I had absolutely no idea what it was, but it gave me a bad, bad feeling, a pit beginning to eat its way through my stomach. "When I was pregnant with you, I had all these ideas about what you'd be like," Her dark hair, the same shade as mine, hanged halfway in her face, the rest splayed over my pillow to become one with mine, indistinguishable as the expression that clouded her face. "I wondered what you'd sound like, how you'd cry, what songs you'd sing to. I thought, 'Will she be a happy baby? Fussy?' I thought maybe you'd be like me, always hungry and always smiling."

She rolled slightly over to set the syringe on my nightstand, then turned back to face me entirely; there was an emptiness there, in her hazel eyes, a countenance I couldn't even begin to decipher. What was she talking about? "Sometimes I wonder if what happened to you was my punishment. Then I think that maybe it was a gift, or fate, or the universe giving me someone to help ease my fucking agony."

I stared at her, but she wasn't looking at me anymore—her eyes were pointed down at her hands, which were entangled in her shirt. "You were never supposed to happen. I never wanted kids, but Simon, he… He wanted them bad enough that he was willing to force me. So he did."

Forced..?

It was starting to make sense, what she was talking about, but I didn't even get a chance to process it, because as soon as she'd finished her sentence, she sat up on one arm to stare down at me, her other arm coming around to rest on my chest, her hand flat to my sternum. My mom had always been thin, but with her addiction issues, she'd only waned that much more; it was obvious in how the veins of her hands stood out like ridges and valleys over the top—had I been able to, I would've sneered. "And then he left me. He gave me the burdening debt of a child, one that he wanted so badly, and left me."

She was starting to cry, but that only lasted for about thirty seconds, forcing her face to be neutral once more. "I wanted to be strong for you. I wanted to be the mother you deserved, but there's something wrong with me that I've dealt with for a long time, and I… I can't deal with it anymore." She cradled my face in her hands, and I could feel them shivering. In her eyes, there was… something, which I had never seen before, swimming in the amalgamation of colours that her irises were comprised of. A weakness—no, it wasn't weakness. It was defeat. Like she'd given up.

Everything was clicking together now; this whole time, when I thought she'd hated me, was drinking and abusing my painkillers to get away from me, but she'd really just been running from herself. Wait, the syringe; I wanted to look over at it, I wanted to tell her no, please don't do it, but all I could do was watch her, and wait.

She raised her hand, reached, and took up the syringe with ginger movements, holding it between us so that we could both see it. "Your morphine," She said, her trembling fingers only causing it to wobble even more, but still didn't spill a drop. By this point, she was no longer crying, but instead, almost seemed to be completely numb; there were still tear stains running down her cheeks, still snot running in a thin line down from her nostrils, but her eyes held no tears. I wanted to scream, but I couldn't. I wanted to hold her, like she'd hold me when the reality of the world set in at night, to cradle her head on my lap and sing to her just as she'd done with me—she needed to know that I loved her. I had been so hard on her, and the knowledge of this ate at my insides, even if she had no inkling of an idea as to what I truly thought. But perhaps she didn't need to. Guilt is a funny thing like that.

I could only lie there as my mom got up from the bed and headed over to the closet that held all my medical equipment, taking out a needle and tourniquet, fastening the needle to the syringe before setting it down and tying the tourniquet around her right arm, just above her elbow.

She may not have been crying anymore, but I was, I could feel it; big, fat tears ran down the sides of my face, my entire body coming alive with phantom trembles of anguish that were so strong, so potent, that I could almost see myself getting up from the bed and breaking that syringe before wrapping her in a hug and apologizing over and over. I'm sorry you lost yourself because of me. I'm sorry you didn't get to have the life you wanted. I'm sorry for being disabled. I'm sorry Mom. Please don't leave me alone.

Of course, she couldn't hear me, but then I didn't expect her to. She wasn't looking at me, and it was almost ironic—even now, when she's about to leave the waking world forever, she still couldn't find it in herself to do it.

Mom injected the morphine. She didn't say goodbye, in fact she didn't speak to me again after she did it; instead, she sat down on the floor next to my bed, rested her head back against it, and closed her eyes.

There was an anger inside me that grew ever stronger as time ticked by, eating away at the rest of my soul with every shuddered breath that escaped her now almost completely limp body. I may have never known a normal life since I was born, but I had been happy with the life we had lived—it was familiar, comfortable, perfectly fine. Mental illness is a monster, I know, I have to deal with it all on my own since I can't talk, but my mom had every opportunity to deal with this. She could walk for Christ's sake, but instead she chose to neglect me, neglect herself, and now, was essentially committing a murder-suicide since I had absolutely no one that was going to check on me for another two days. What the hell was she thinking?

God, I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry and scream and pound on the walls, I wanted to beat my mom to a pulp and demand to know why the fuck she was doing this to me. Wasn't my situation bad enough? Hadn't you stopped to think about what would happen to me? How could you be so selfish?

I watched a documentary about white torture a couple months ago.

It's considered one of the worst forms of torture, since it completely deprives your mind and body of all stimuli, essentially making you go insane. Sometimes I feel that that's what it's like to be completely paralyzed; you're trapped in the white room of your mind, with nowhere to run from the thoughts that haunt you. I wonder though, how a normal person would feel if they were placed in my body. Would they go crazy? What makes me so different from those subjected to white torture outside of their own free will?

Perhaps I was the crazy one all along. Or maybe I just got used to the monotonous shape that my daily life had formed into, both disgusted and comforted by the fact that I truly had nothing to look forward to; that wasn't always 100% true, but having no expectations afforded me the ability to be excited about something every once in a while. And now my mother has taken that from me, just like the way she took it when I was born, how everyone took it all from me, leaving me with the blood in my hands and the blame weighing heavy on my head.

Everyone else gets to take—except me. I have to give and give and give forever. When is it going to be my turn?

There were so many things I wanted to do, yeah, but I couldn't do any of them. I could do nothing but lie there with my eyes rolling back up to stare at the popcorn ceiling, with my mom's dead body beside me; I shouldn't fall asleep, I knew that, especially when I didn't have my CPAP in, but it wasn't like I could exactly keep myself from doing it. What else did I have to live for, truly? The burning in my chest ached with sharper teeth at that thought, milking more tears from my eyes and anger from the back of my mind. Fuck, I wish Tonya was here.

But she wasn't. I was alone, like always, and just as I had been born, I was going to die that way. Nobody to give a fuck. Nobody to comfort me.

The light faded from the corners of my vision, then disappeared.

#short story #my works

[themovieblogonline]

To Leslie Garners Oscar Nod for Andrea Riseborough in Long-Shot Bid for Gold

To Leslie was shot in 19 days, but, come 2023 Oscar time, its star, Andrea Riseborough, has earned an Oscar nomination, even if the movie only earned $27,000 worldwide. When I saw it at SXSW in 2022, I was impressed by the entire cast, but the lead performance was so honest and genuine that it dominated those of the others in the ensemble cast. Owen Teague played the son in this story. He is far from the best-known name in the one-hour and 59-minute film. Michael Morris directed. It's worth mentioning that Morris was the executive producer of the 2016 series “Bloodlines,” in which Owen Teague appeared as Young Danny. He found a script from a talented writer (Ryan Binaco) that spoke to him, because of events of his own childhood, and he knew that Andrea Riseborough was right for the lead. She certainly is, as she shows no vanity whatsoever in depicting a woman who hits rock bottom and then must try to scramble her way back to the top. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SwaFEUNXMVQ The film is based on the real-life story of a West Texas single mom who won the lottery and lost it all to her addiction to alcohol. The film had a very personal connection for its director, whose mother suffered from alcoholism. Oscar winner Allison Janney (“I, Tonya!”), Stephen Root (the stapler guy in “Office Space”), and Marc Maron (“G.L.O.W.”), who also executive produced, have leads. Royal is portrayed by Andre Royo (“The Wire”), also a fine character actor on stage and screen and a writer. But the film's lead (Leslie) is Andrea Riseborough, who has been acting since she was 7 years old, which means 36 years. The film stars Andrea Riseborough, a British actress who has been hailed by the Sunday “Times” as one of Britain’s rising young stars, along with such other luminaries as Hugh Dancy and Eddie Redmayne. She graduated from the London Academy of Royal Arts (RADA) in 2005, but her West Texas accent is completely convincing. The script is courtesy of screenwriter Ryan Binaco; the Cinematographer is Larkin Seiple. Riseborough was so good in the part that other actors and actresses (Helen Hunt, Cate Blanchett, Ed Norton) sang her praises on social media and even had some private screenings at their homes to tout her work. All of this was done more-or-less without any active lobbying from Riseborough, herself, but it was aimed at voting members of the Screen Actors' Guild. And that set off a backlash against her totally unexpected nomination for an Oscar when two prominent black actresses who had been expected to earn nods did not. Investigations were held to see if any "rules" were violated, but, to date, the nomination holds and Andrea Riseborough is, for sure, a rising star whose work will garner more notice in the future. The opening scenes of “To Leslie” show a jubilant young mother celebrating winning $190,000 in the lottery and declaring that drinks are on her. Six years later, she’s broke and the drinks have definitely been plentiful during those years (and mostly consumed by her). We learn that the young mother of the opening scene abandoned her son (Owen Teague as James) and his step-mother (Allison Janney) was forced, along with Dutch (Stephen Root) to raise him, by default. To say that Allison Janney’s character is angry and resentful is an understatement. Andrea's portrayal of a woman who has gotten by on looks and charm but is now past those halcyon days of her youth is intense and convincing. I was reminded of Blanche in "A Streetcar Named Desire" who opines, "I have always depended on the kindness of others" as Leslie's femme fatale vibe begins to wither on her increasingly mature vine. The film depicts Leslie hitting rock bottom and trying to claw her way back to at least the middle. She is extended a lifeline on that bootstrap journey by Marc Maron’s character of Sweeney, the manager of a seedy motel on the edge of town. Sweeney is running it for Andre Royo’s character of Royal. Royal was left the motel by his family but, because he took too much acid in his younger days, it has left him with mental impairments that make Marc Maron’s participation in running the place essential. As Leslie gradually swears off the booze and gets sober, she and Marc Maron’s character and Royal assist her in renovating an ice cream parlor on the edge of town. The happy ending involves, once again, son James (Owen Teague), to whom Leslie turns when things are at their bleakest. All’s well that ends well with this female film equivalent of “Leaving Las Vegas.” The acting was very, very good, although the true story has been told many times previously. (Even “A Star Is Born” touches on the old familiar story of alcoholism.) I did enjoy watching Andre Royo strip nearly naked and race around amongst the cactus and sand of a west Texas prairie, as we are told in the script he is prone to do. Marc Maron’s offer of a job cleaning motel rooms and washing the laundry makes you wonder if he has romantic designs on Leslie and, yes, that seems to be the case as the film winds down. You can watch the film on Prime Video ($6.99) before the Oscar telecast. Then we can all wait and see if Riseborough has any chance of pulling off the greatest upset in Oscar history. Read the full article