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heartbreak-sandwich · 9 months

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Billy Hargrove x Fem!OC

Summary: JJ Feron returns home for the holidays and attends a posh cocktail hour graciously organized by Mr. and Mrs. Harrington to honor her father's law firm. A surprise guest lights a fire in her, and things quickly take a mischievous turn. Unwrap the magic of this holiday season in the next 2.9k words ✨ CW: SMUT, unprotected sex, light spanking, light hair pulling, mirror scene, tons and tons of eye contact. A huge thank you to my beta reader and editor @lifesshort-imshorter for helping bring this piece to life!!!

DAY ONE OF HOHOHOE WEEK Prompt: Childhood Bedroom

“What the fuck is a ‘cocktail hour,’ anyway? The last place I want to be on my first day back in Hawkins is at some stuffy lawyer party with my parents and their insufferable colleagues.” JJ griped to Nancy on the phone as she donned her outfit for the evening’s party when a soft rapping at her bedroom door caught her attention. “Nance, I’ve got to go. I’ll text you.” JJ ended her call, tossing the phone onto her bed before the door cracked open slightly.

“Oh, that dress looks great on you!” Eileen Windrow-Feron had always maintained that image was everything, and the family image was something JJ had rebelled against since the moment she could speak. But that night, she agreed to wear the dress her mother picked out for her and to keep as quiet as she could so as not to taint the memory of the Harringtons’ first, and hopefully annual, cocktail hour in the honor of Feron, Hutchinson, Russell & Cobb.

The firm was a family heirloom of sorts, still running on what Linden Feron referred to as a “humble sum” of old money. JJ had no interest in the business, law, or any of her father’s pompous cohorts who were sure to attend, including Steve Harrington’s parents, though her mother was always gushing about what gracious hosts they were to welcome the family firm into their home. Those monologues always made JJ gag.

“I feel like my legs are shrink wrapped together,” JJ complained as she swiped her mother’s hands away from fixing the dress’s neckline.

“Jacqueline June, don’t be so negative. This is a very important night for your father,” Eileen scolded as she returned to busying herself with primping the dress to perfection.

“I get it; I really do. You’ve only said it about a hundred times,” JJ sighed.

“Well, a hundred and one won’t hurt,” Eileen quipped back. “There. Look at you.” Eileen

smiled proudly at her daughter in a black, knee-length, satin dress with spaghetti straps and a square neckline, her auburn curls pinned half up, and her frown painted a deep berry color. It took all of JJ’s strength not to roll her eyes while Eileen’s bright smile shone on her.

“When do we leave?” She turned away from her mother’s gaze, feeling awkward and vulnerable.

“Fifteen minutes. Be downstairs and ready.” JJ nodded in response as Eileen let herself out of the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

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“Hey Jay, long time, no see.” Steve Harrington stood in the foyer of his parents’ home in a forest green button-down with his famous hair coiffed to perfection. He was broader than before, but still just as JJ had always remembered him.

“Hey, Steve,” she replied as he enveloped her in a friendly hug. “When did you get in?”

“Just last night – late,” Steve grumbled. “But there’s no rest for the aristocratic,” he joked, running a hand through his chocolate brown locks. JJ smiled, the dimple in her left cheek coming out of hiding. She and Steve shared a lot of the same disdainful feelings for the crowd that surrounded them, though he was always described as easier to get along with by the older adults in their circle. He was a great friend, and a trustworthy confidante, and JJ had never been more glad to see him than in that particular moment.

“Thank God you’re here. I don’t know if I could stomach this alone,” she confessed quietly through gritted teeth.

“Well, you’ll be disappointed to know I’m on dish duty tonight and starting early to sneak out to a date.” Steve frowned, his eyes apologetic.

“No way,” JJ whined.

“‘Fraid so.” Steve nodded solemnly before pulling on JJ’s arm. “But look, look, look.” He spun her around and gestured across the living room to the fireplace where a group of men were standing, whiskey glasses in hand. “Do you see him?”

“See who?” JJ craned her neck every which way to get a glimpse of who Steve was talking about.

“Navy blue suit, smoking next to the ashtray on the mantle.” Was that – no. It couldn’t be.

“Is that Billy Hargrove?” JJ’s verdant eyes rounded in shock.

“In the flesh,” Steve confirmed.

“How? Why?” JJ couldn’t believe she was seeing Billy mingling with the high society of Hawkins at the most pretentious event of the year.

“He’s an intern for Cobb. I guess he’s smarter than I ever gave him credit for. Graduating from law school next year. I couldn’t believe it either.”

“Just when you think there are no surprises left,” JJ mumbled, staring hard at Billy’s distracted ocean eyes as he went through the motions and smiled, laughing politely at the undoubtedly dry jokes the old men told around his circle. “I need a drink.”

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JJ sighed deeply as she poured herself a new glass of chardonnay at the bar. Time wasn’t passing fast enough. She let her mind wander far away as she sipped, staring at the wall in front of her when a velvet voice snapped her back to reality.

“JJ Feron. I guess I should’ve known you’d be here.” She swiveled to meet Billy’s cerulean eyes. Seeing him up close was like a dream, though she’d never be caught dead saying it out loud. Billy punches-anything-that-looks-at-him-too-long Hargrove has always been a panty-dropper, but JJ never fell for his tricks, refusing to be another notch in his belt despite being historically curious to know why others were so eager to let Billy use them like that.

“Billy,” she replied curtly. “Fancy seeing you here. Shocking, honestly. How’s the internship going?” JJ’s glib, tight-lipped smile let Billy know she didn’t really care and wasn’t keen on his choice of profession, but he answered politely anyway.

“I’m learning a lot,” he replied, nodding and eyeing his boss across the room. “Mr. Cobb has been kind to me.”

“Kind?” JJ snorted. Andrew Cobb was anything but kind. She seemed to recall the firm brushing not just a few domestic violence incidents under the rug, but also generously covering his rehab expenses more than once as “undefined healthcare benefits.”

“That’s the best way I can describe it.” Billy smirked at JJ’s obvious disdain for Mr. Cobb, knowing she was right, but not being able to tell her in front of everyone that he was just doing his best to get ahead while he could.

“Of course you’re one of them now,” JJ chided, taking another healthy gulp of chardonnay.

“Woah, woah, hey.” Billy’s voice was low, husky, and deliberate as he leaned in closer, towering over her small frame. His eyes pierced hers like daggers – a war of sapphires and emeralds – as he made himself crystal clear. “Don’t you ever put me and those bastards in the same category, you understand?” JJ’s concentration was broken, and Billy’s sincerity gave her chills.

“Tell me why I shouldn’t.”

“I’m not one of those yuppy, scumbag corporate attorneys helping the rich guys keep up their image or kissing insurance company ass. As soon as I’m licensed, I’ll be a guardian ad litem for kids in the system, a legal advocate who can represent their best interest while the court decides their future. They need someone like me.” Billy’s expression was entirely serious, and JJ couldn’t help but feel some admiration for what he was doing. He was passionate, driven, and she knew he would succeed. Billy Hargrove never half-assed anything as long as she’d known him.

“I never would have guessed,” JJ almost whispered, holding out her glass for him to cheers. Billy’s face softened back into a half smile as he clinked his glass to hers, both of them taking a sip as Mr. Cobb appeared beside them, Billy’s meticulous mask sliding back into place to greet him.

“Jacqueline,” he crooned as JJ almost spat out her drink at her government name being used in front of one of her classmates. Only her mother was allowed to call her that. “You clean up so well.” Billy stared down at his shoes to hide his smirk at that comment because if he knew one thing, it was that you don’t slide backhanded compliments across JJ Feron’s table.

“Andy,” JJ gushed, her tone deliberately patronizing. “How’s New Wife Number Three? Getting along with Old Wife Number Two? Are they both here?” JJ looked around exaggeratedly, pretending to try and find them. Mr. Cobb’s face flushed crimson, and he said nothing more before making a quick exit back into the living room.

“Harsh,” Billy chuckled, sipping his whiskey.

“If you only knew.” JJ tried not to let her smile show, though she couldn’t help but be a bit proud of herself every time she told off someone who really deserved it. “Don’t look now.” JJ braced herself as Eileen rushed toward them, her brows tightly knitted together and fists balled up at her sides.

“Jacqueline June Feron,” she hissed. JJ sighed and let her eyes close, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“What,” she whined.

“You know exactly what.” Her mother was furious. “If you can’t behave, then make yourself scarce. Go help Steve in the kitchen. Now.” The order was clear, and there was no negotiation to be had. JJ raised her drink halfway to Billy and retreated to the kitchen to help Steve wash the guests’ dishes. At least in the sanctuary of the dish pit, she wouldn’t be subjected to any more prying eyes or passive aggressive remarks.

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“Please, Jay. Please. I’ll owe you one,” Steve begged, puppydog eyes fully engaged. JJ rolled her eyes and let him plead even though she knew from the start she’d agree. She just liked to hear his desperation.

“Fine, Steve, but you owe me for sure.” Steve beamed, shaking the suds off his hands into the sink and grabbing the nearest dish towel to dry off on.

“You’re my favorite, Jay,” he declared, giving her a quick peck on the cheek before rushing out of the kitchen, not to be seen for the rest of the night. It was just like Steve to make an early escape attempt for a date, but JJ didn’t mind. The silence was soothing, and anywhere was better than being out there on the floor with those assholes. She lost herself in the mundane routine of rinse, scrub, rinse, repeat and didn’t notice another body infiltrate her safe haven until she heard him.

“Harrington ditch you?” JJ could hear the grin in Billy’s voice.

“No,” she defended. “I told him it was okay to skip out early. You’d understand; he has a date.”

“A date, huh? Boy, do I feel sorry for that poor sucker of a lady,” he quipped. JJ couldn’t help but chuckle. A comfortable silence wafted among them as JJ continued her chore. “Care if I help?”

“Please don’t feel obligated. You should go enjoy the rest of the party.” She tried to keep her tone level, but it came out with a thin layer of venomous icing on top.

“Right. Move over.” Billy appeared alongside JJ and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt one at a time, and something about the way his strong, veined hands worked over the cuffs so effortlessly and methodically made her heart palpate in her chest.

She worked next to him for the better part of an hour, exchanging small talk and telling stories about college. They laughed like old friends, and JJ decided during that time that maybe Billy wasn’t as much of a dick as she had always assumed.

“Billy Hargrove on the straight and narrow, huh? I guess anything is possible,” JJ teased through a dimpled smile.

“Hey, now,” Billy retorted. “Don’t go spreading that rumor around town. I’ve still got a little fire in me. I just have to pick and choose the right opportunities to let it out.” JJ met his gaze, and his eyes glinted like the edge of a switchblade, a devilish smirk forming in the corner of his mouth. Her insides turned to putty, and in that moment, she conceded to becoming another notch in the belt of the devil – she just couldn’t help herself.

“How do you know which opportunities are the right ones?” Instinctively, she took a step closer to him so their legs were touching. Billy looked down at the contact and then back up into her eyes, a smile blooming on his plush lips.

Pinning her with his stare, he let his fingertips brush over the exposed skin of her shoulder, brushing back a lock of her hair that had fallen out of place. “Well,” he drawled. JJ’s breath hitched at the feeling of his smooth hand tracing over her goosebumps, nowhere near where she really wanted it to be. “I guess I just feel it out.”

“So how do you feel about this opportunity?” JJ toyed with Billy’s tie between her fingers, pressing her body into him, her eye contact unwavering.

“I’d say I feel pretty damn good. What do you say we get out of here?” He leaned closer, the scent of whiskey, smoke, and spicy aftershave lulling her into a trance as she answered.

“Why get out of here when we can go up?” JJ pointed to the staircase in the hallway, and Billy’s eyes widened.

“Here? During the party?” JJ giggled at his hesitation.

“Come on, I thought you said you were still big, bad Billy Hargrove,” she teased. “Steve’s gone for the night, and his bedroom is at the end of the hall. If we hurry, no one will see us leave.” Billy grinned at her tenacity. This girl was everything he always thought she was, and maybe even more.

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“Fuck – yes, just like that.” JJ threw her head back in bliss, palms pressed flat against the full-length mirror. Despite being in Steve’s childhood bedroom where the walls were decorated with old polaroids from his high school days and a Back to the Future movie poster, she had never felt so alive. Each nerve ending in her body was consumed by Billy’s every touch.

The lights were off, but the glow of the streetlight through the window was enough to ensure she could still watch Billy pound her from behind just the way she had secretly fantasized about for the last decade. She felt his fingertips curl around her hip bone, making small crescent-shaped imprints in her skin as his other hand tightened around the makeshift ponytail he held her disheveled hair in.

“Look at me,” Billy growled. JJ’s eyes snapped up obediently to meet his in the mirror. Even in the dark, she could tell his pupils were blown with lust, the deep blue pools no longer visible around them. Sweat glistened over his chest as his thrusts quickened and stuttered, and JJ could feel the rubber band in her core tightening, dreadfully close to snapping as she tried to stifle the moans wracking from her throat. It was just too good.

Billy’s hand left her hip and trailed up to her lips, signaling for her to open her mouth, which she obeyed. The pads of his first two fingers glided along her velvety soft tongue, gathering saliva before he brought them down to her aching clit, sliding slick circles in a perfect rhythm, eliciting a cry of pleasure she couldn’t contain in the slightest.

“Billy, please, don’t stop!” The frame of the mirror rattled shamelessly against the wall as Billy fucked into her harder and faster, everything about their encounter turning delectably wreckless when Billy realized there was no way the crowd downstairs didn’t hear what was happening.

“You gonna cum for me, baby?” His grip on her hair tightened again, pulling her gaze back up to meet his eyes right where he wanted her.

“I’m – mmm, fuck. I’m gonna cum for you, Billy. Right – right now.” JJ let out a chorus of long, low moans as her eyes rolled back and her knees gave out, held up solely by the fierce grip Billy had in her hair and the electrifying circles he was still lavishing on her clit. After nearly drowning under each tidal wave of her climax, she was totally breathless and barely able to stand.

A hand came down hard on her asscheek with a crack. Seconds later, JJ let out a pathetic whimper at the sudden emptiness as Billy pulled out and slammed her back to his chest. Standing her up and clasping a hand around her throat, he kept contact in the mirror as he growled into her ear, “Good girl.”

Thick, white ropes painted the mirror in front of them as he kissed and sucked at her neck while gravelly moans thundered from deep within his chest. JJ felt high on the adrenaline of what they had just done, her grin shining through the shadows as Billy planted a soft kiss to the side of her face, still looking into her eyes with a devious edge to his expression.

“Welcome home, Jacqueline,” Billy purred. JJ scoffed, rolling her eyes, but she didn’t protest this time. Something about him saying her name like that actually felt good.“We’d better get cleaned up and work out our story. Someone’s bound to ask after all that…percussion.” Billy chuckled as he handed JJ her dress, and the two of them straightened up, fixing each other’s flyaway hairs and creased fabric before descending back to the land of the mundane.

💕Tag List: @imyourdaninow @justsimonrileythings @b1tchy3lf @jozstankovich @darleenjade @peachyaliien @dananahenderson @strangerthing93 @yoyokiss97 @californiaboytoybilly

#Billy Hargrove #Billy Hargrove smut #Billy Hargrove x fem!oc #Billy Hargrove x oc #oc JJ Feron #Fergrove <3 #Steve Harrington #Nancy Wheeler #hohohoe23 #day one - prompt: childhood bedroom #writing events #holiday writing event #smut tho for real #12/18/23

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valencepod · 2 years

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The TEAm sings a song, Mahira slings a sword, and Sol solves a situation.

Listen to Season 3, Episode 11 of VALENCE now wherever you get your podcasts.

And remember... protect your magic. ⚡️

VALENCE is a serialized fiction podcast meant for adult listeners. You can find more information, including our full cast list and transcripts, on our website..

For ongoing support of this show and others like it, please consider supporting Hug House Productions on Patreon. For support tiers at $5+/month, you'll get early episode access to ALL of our shows, including the next episode of VALENCE today!

Credits:

VALENCE was created by Wil Williams. This episode was written by Katie Youmans, and edited and sound designed by Wil Williams. This episode was directed by Anne Baird and Katie Youmans, transcribed by Katie Youmans, and produced by Anne Baird. The VALENCE Season 3 theme was composed by Travis Reaves.

Performances by:

Josh Rubino as Liam Alden and Liam’s Inner Voice,

Naomi McMillan as Morgan Reilley,

John Westover as Nico Salvai,

Caleb Del Rio as Flynn Velasco,

Jordan Cobb as Sarah Harris,

Katie Chin as Grace Chen,

Ishani Kanetkar as Mahira Varma,

Alex Welch as Noel Alden,

Ross Papa as Tomasso Salvai,

Abigail Beaudoin as Rhian Erwood,

Nikko Goldstein as Faire Actor 1,

Marnie Warner as Faire Actor 2,

Gavin Gaddis as Jarles,

Eileen Baird as Jarlette,

Rashika Rao as Faire Vendor 1,

Tal Minear as Faire Vendor 2,

Anna Stein as Bad Guy 1,

Nathan Comstock as Bad Guy 2,

Elena Fernandez Collins as Soledad Marquez,

and Sable as Soap!

#valence #valence podcast #valence pod #valencepod #audio drama #fiction podcast #audio fiction #new candler #liam alden #mahira varma #flynn velasco #nico salvai #sarah harris #noel alden #grace chen

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docrotten · 11 months

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THE EXORCIST (1973) – Episode 200 – Decades Of Horror 1970s

“What an excellent day for an exorcism.” You don’t have to say that twice. Join your faithful Grue Crew – Doc Rotten, Chad Hunt, Bill Mulligan, Jeff Mohr, and guest hosts Daphne Monary-Ernsdorff and Crystal Cleveland – as they finally tackle one of the best and most influential horror movies in history, The Exorcist (1973) from director William Friedkin and writer William Peter Blatty.

Decades of Horror 1970s Episode 200 – The Exorcist (1973)

Join the Crew on the Gruesome Magazine YouTube channel! Subscribe today! And click the alert to get notified of new content! https://youtube.com/gruesomemagazine

Decades of Horror 1970s is partnering with the WICKED HORROR TV CHANNEL (https://wickedhorrortv.com/) which now includes video episodes of the podcast and is available on Roku, AppleTV, Amazon FireTV, AndroidTV, and its online website across all OTT platforms, as well as mobile, tablet, and desktop.

When a young girl is possessed by a mysterious entity, her mother seeks the help of two Catholic priests to save her life.

Director: William Friedkin

Writer: William Peter Blatty (written for the screen by, from the novel by)

Cinematographer: Owen Roizman; Billy Williams (Mosul sequences)

Editing by: Norman Gay, Evan A. Lottman (as Evan Lottman), Bud S. Smith (Iraq sequence), Jordan Leondopoulos (supervising field editor)

Art Direction-Set Decoration: Bill Malley, Jerry Wunderlich

Sound: Robert Knudson, Christopher Newman

Makeup Department:

Dick Smith (makeup artist)

Robert Laden (special makeup effects artist) (uncredited)

William A. Farley (hair stylist) (as Bill Farley)

Special Effects:

Marcel Vercoutere (special effects)

Rick Baker (special effects assistant) (uncredited)

Composer: Jack Nitzsche (composer: additional music)

Selected Cast:

Ellen Burstyn as Chris MacNeil

Max von Sydow as Father Merrin

Lee J. Cobb as Lt. Kinderman

Kitty Winn as Sharon

Jack MacGowran as Burke Dennings

Jason Miller as Father Karras

Linda Blair as Regan

William O’Malley as Father Dyer (credited as Reverend William O’Malley S.J.)

Barton Heyman as Dr. Klein

Peter Masterson as Dr. Barringer – Clinic Director (as Pete Masterson)

Rudolf Schündler as Karl

Gina Petrushka as Willi

Robert Symonds as Dr. Taney

Arthur Storch as Psychiatrist

Thomas Bermingham as Tom – President of University (as Reverend Thomas Bermingham S.J.)

Vasiliki Maliaros as Karras’ Mother

Titos Vandis as Karras’ Uncle

John Mahon as Language Lab Director

Wallace Rooney as Bishop Michael

Ron Faber as Chuck – Assistant Director / Demonic Voice

Donna Mitchell as Mary Jo Perrin

Roy Cooper as Jesuit Dean

Robert Gerringer as Senator at Party

Dick Callinan as Astronaut (uncredited)

Elinore Blair as Nurse (uncredited)

William Peter Blatty as The Producer (uncredited)

Mercedes McCambridge as Demon (voice)

Eileen Dietz as Demon’s Face (uncredited)

Ann Miles as Spiderwalk (uncredited)

Vincent Russell as Subway Vagrant (uncredited)

It’s finally time to discuss The Exorcist (1973). The 70s Grue Crew have waited 200 episodes to tackle what is arguably the most influential horror film of the decade and beyond. The regular cast of “characters” have invited a few friends to enjoy the extra-long conversation: Daphne Monary-Ernsdorff, co-host of The Classic Era; and, Crystal Cleveland, the Livin6Dead6irl, co-host of the 80s. In other words, the whole damn family of Decades of Horror co-hosts are on hand for this one. Settle in for this in-depth look at director William Friedkin’s ultimate fright-fest and join the Grue Crew to celebrate 200 episodes of Decades of Horror 1970s.

At the time of this writing, The Exorcist is available to stream from MAX. The film is also available on physical media as The Exorcist 50th Anniversary Edition – Theatrical & Extended Director’s Cut (4K Ultra HD + Digital).

Gruesome Magazine’s Decades of Horror 1970s is part of the Decades of Horror two-week rotation with The Classic Era and the 1980s. In two weeks, the next episode, chosen by Chad, will be The Psychic, aka Sette note in nero, aka Murder to the Tune of the Seven Black Notes, aka Seven Notes in Black, released in Italy in 1977. This one is giallo, Fulci-style!

We want to hear from you – the coolest, grooviest fans: comment on the site or email the Decades of Horror 1970s podcast hosts at [email protected].

Check out this episode!

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thealiciacouri · 4 months

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helenaheissner · 6 months

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Love During Robot Fighting Time: Chapter 16

Hello, lovelies! Hope y'all are doing well :)

Don't forget you can read three chapters ahead on this story, twenty chapters ahead on "A Dream of Summer Rain", and two chapters ahead on "Magical Girl Exorcist Squad", by becoming a paid subscriber on my Substack or my Patreon!

If that's too steep for you but you'd still like to support my work, consider making a one-time donation via Ko-Fi:

Thank you so much for your continued support of my work! Every little bit helps me to keep going :)

And now, back to our regularly scheduled nerdy romcom shenanigans!

***

Kate

Zeke and I ate dinner together again the next night, and the next night, and the next, and the next. Our second dinner we just went and got pizza, then took in a movie. Our third saw us eating at my place, while my parents playfully interrogated the young man as to his intentions towards me. Our fourth was at his place, and Faith was in attendance- mostly because she was the one who cooked for us. It was a delicious meal of grilled chicken sandwiches with a homemade cobb salad on the side. I didn’t realize she was the one doing that for us until I arrived and the food had already been prepared, and I was wracked with guilt at the realization. The poor girl was bending over backwards to help me, and being nothing but nice to me… I tried to invite her to stay, but she slipped off somewhere before I could even finish the offer.

We all had the week off from our respective fights, and none of us felt like going out, so we wound up spending Friday night all watching the fights together at my place. Jolly Roger, Tooth Fairy, Sparky-Sparky-Boom, and Ultimate Frisbee all took home victories.

At the end of the night, as Zeke and Faith were getting ready to leave, Faith was scrolling on her phone and then paused with what looked to be a panicked expression all over her face.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” I asked. Zeke was standing in the doorway, me at the base of the stairs, and Faith between us.

“Um,” Faith said. “You’re trending on social media.”

“How’s that possible? I don’t have any social media accounts.”

“Well, um, someone tagged Zeke and I’s shared account with a photo that got posted,” she said. “And you’re in it.”

“What?” Zeke and I said simultaneously.

She showed us, revealing a picture of Zeke and I leaving the Indian restaurant together that past Monday. Revealing me in all my trans glory to the entire internet without my consent. “Who the hell-”

“Olivia,” Zeke growled.

“Let’s not jump to any conclusions,” Faith said.

“Who tagged us in the photo?” Zeke said.

“Let’s see here,” Faith said. “Who the heck is Eileen Portman?”

“Team Sparky-Sparky-Boom!” I said, grinding my teeth together. “They were at the restaurant on Monday night!”

“Goddammit,” Zeke said.

“Okay, let’s not freak out,” Faith said.

“Not freak out? Are you kidding me? This is the perfect time to freak out! That-that bitch! She’s my next opponent, she must have done this on purpose to rattle me! I’ll show her. I’ll crush her, I’ll-”

“Kate,” Zeke said.

“What?!”

“You’re doing it again.”

“What do you mean?”

“It,” Faith said. “You’re doing it. Your hands are bunched together.”

I looked down, to see my hands had indeed balled into fists. “Oh.”

Zeke walked over to me, putting his hands on my shoulders. “It’s okay. I know you’re upset. I know this feels awful. But you’re better than this. You don’t have to play the game on their terms.”

I looked up at this man, at my man, and the anger evaporated, replaced by a cool serenity and simple clarity. “You’re right. I still have a week to figure out my response. That’s plenty of time.”

“Exactly,” Zeke said. “You can get out in front of this.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Faith said. “Own your narrative. There’s got to be some way for you to respond to this without slipping back into your old persona.”

I breathed in deep through my nose. “I think I have one idea.”

***

I popped my first Estradiol pill when I woke up on Monday morning, letting the blue-green tablet melt under my tongue. It had a curious texture to it as it slowly dissolved, and I wanted to say it tasted like sugar, but it didn’t really taste like anything. I wanted to say I could feel it changing me right away, but that was ridiculous. What it did make me feel right away, though, was relief. And… Joy. A clean, pure joy that sang through my entire being, every fiber grateful as I took my first step towards changing my body to what I wanted it to be.

I was on my way, physically and mentally.

Now for the hard part.

I did my makeup, put on a blue and white sundress and a pair of strappy sandals, put in my four hours at the store, and then climbed in my car and headed to Gaines Auto Body and Bodybuilding.

I’d emailed Gaines’ social media publicists, Nadine, on Saturday morning, and we’d set up a meeting for the following Monday. I parked in the back of the shop and made my way in through the front, conscious of the dozens of ridiculously buff guys staring at me as I walked through the gym. Some were staring at me with recognition and contempt, others with bemusement, others with confusion, and one or two with naked lust. I wasn’t really sure what to do with it all, so I just kept my head down and powered through.

I reached the back of the gym and knocked on a closed door, and when it opened, a young black woman with long, luscious braids and bold makeup stood on the other side. She was tall and slender, and wore big, horn-rimmed glasses over her brown eyes. She wore an orange shawl over a light blue tank top and darker blue jeans, while red converse all-stars adorned her feet. A diamond engagement ring rested on her finger, shining proudly even in the cheap, artificial radiance of the overhead light. “Hi!” she exclaimed, effortless enthusiasm pouring out of her.

“Uh… Hi!” I said, doing my best to match her immense energy.

“You’re Katherine, right?” she said, opening the door wider and gesturing me into the office.

“Uh, Kate, but yeah, that’s me,” I said. Her office was carpeted, with teal-painted walls and sleek metal desk in the corner. A bi pride flag hung over the wall, along with a framed copy of a college diploma from CSU Long Beach that read ‘Nadine Palmer.’

“So, I got your email, and first off, I wanna say, I am so, so sorry that happened to you,” Nadine said, gesturing to the bean bag chair that sat in front of her desk as she traipsed over to the regular chair on the other side. Seriously, what was with this place and weird seating arrangements?

I sat down in the bean bag chair, surprised by how soft and comfy it was. “Thank you. I… I gotta be honest, I have no idea what to do now. I’ve never really been a social media person, but I know I want a new image going forward.”

“Tired of the whole ‘macho bravado’ thing, I take it?” She said, offering me a sympathetic look.

“Yeah, it, uh… Well, it served its purpose,” I said. “And now it doesn’t, anymore.”

“I completely understand. My fiance, Greg, went through the opposite version of it.”

“How do you mean?”

She looked at me for a second.

“Oh, he’s-”

“Yes, exactly,” she said. “Used to have no idea how to stand up for himself, the poor man. But people can change.”

“Absolutely,” I nodded.

“So, I think we should start by building an Insta profile for you, something that makes you seem friendly and approachable, and take it from there. Sounds good?”

“Sounds great!”

“More broadly, though, do you have any idea what kind of gimmick you’d like to go for?” Nadine asked.

“I… I don’t know yet,” I said. “Do you think… For now, we could just focus on the bare bones stuff, get me ready for my first big public appearance as myself?”

“Totally fine,” Nadine said. “Mind if I ask you a personal, transition related question?”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

“Have you started HRT yet?”

“Just took the first pill this morning,” I said.

“Good, good. Here’s my pitch then: transition timeline. One photo of you every week, dolled up and looking gorgeous like you are now,” Nadine said.

I smiled.

“Then we compile the timeline while the hormones work their magic slowly.”

“I like this plan!” I said.

“Thought you would. Once you’re further along, we can decide on a more specific gimmick for you going forward. For now, though, who’s ready for a photo shoot?”

I mustered up my best smile. “I am.”

“That’s the spirit!” she said.

***

The shoot flew by faster than expected, and so did the rest of the week as I finished repairs on Polyphemus in preparation for my fight. The bot was finished, ready inside my truck, and I sat in the driver’s seat in the parking lot, that damn parking lot where so much had happened to me, clutching the steering wheel with my seatbelt still fastened and the door still locked.

“You okay?” Zeke said from the passenger’s side. He’d ridden in with me, while Faith and my parents were meeting us there. Zeke was originally going to do the same, but… He’d offered to keep me company on the ride over, and my heart freaking sang when he did. He’d been at my side through so much of this… Part of me wondered if I really deserved him. Part of me wondered if Faith deserved him more.

But he wanted to be with me. He’d said as much. Granted, we’d both agreed to keep our relationship on the down-low at work, at least for the time being, but still… That he was there with me, to help prop me up, was amazing. “I’ve… Been better. Nervous, mostly. But I’ll be fine. Got all my repairs done before the match, got my outfit already-”

“You look gorgeous, by the way,” he said, gesturing to my black skirt and pink hoodie combination.

“Oh, stop,” I said, smiling bashfully and playfully waving my hand at him.

“Hey, just being honest,” he said. “My girlfriend looks gorgeous, I’m gonna tell her as much.”

My jaw dropped, but my lips slowly curved upwards into a smile as his words sank in. We both sat there a moment, a change in the atmosphere between us making itself readily apparent. “D-did… Did you just use the g-word?”

“Heh. I think so,” he said, scratching the back of his head. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” I nodded.

“I mean I just… We’ve been seeing each other pretty much nonstop for a few weeks now, we’ve made out a bunch of times, your dad even gave me the whole speech-”

“Yeah,” I said, warmth and giddiness exploding in me like a Fourth of July fireworks display. Girlfriend, I thought as euphoria and attraction swirled together.

“If you’re not comfortable putting labels on it yet-”

I unbuckled my seatbelt, reached over, grabbed his face and kissed him. Our lips pressed together, his stubble scratching and tickling my carefully made-up face. I opened my mouth up further, pushing my tongue towards him, and after a nanosecond’s hesitation, he let it in. We Frenched for a few minutes, only the utmost willpower pulling me away from the magnetic connection that held the two of us together. I didn’t want to stop, but I knew if I didn’t, I’d be inviting him to tear off all my clothes. And putting aside the part where I wasn’t sure either of us were ready for that, it was a work night.

“Okay,” I said, my voice breathy and girly, half-purr and half-whisper, my nose pressed against his. “I’m your girlfriend. You’re my boyfriend.” The euphoria and the giddiness tripled, quadrupled, quintupled. Everything felt clear and simple and right, as if I’d unlocked some higher sense of understanding myself and him and the both of us together. Of how we were more together than we were apart.

“Okay,” he smiled.

I kissed him one more time for luck, and said, “Let’s light this candle.”

Zeke helped me wheel Polyphemus into the arena. The first two fights of the evening had already gone down, and I handed my intro monologue card to the appropriate person. They read off my speech and introduced me, with Derek and Marty making note of a few adjustments I’d made.

“Well, it seems this is a season of change, Derek,” Marty said into the microphone. “First Faith Watanabe, and now Kate Calloway as well.”

“Exciting times we live in, Marty,” Derek said. “Wonder what other surprises Team Polyphemus has in store for us tonight.

“AND IN THE RED CORNER,” came the next monologue, roared to life by our glorious master of ceremonies, “This bot, is DA BOMB! It’s got an EXPLOSIVE PERSONALITY, and it’ll spin your head RIGHT ROUND RIGHT ROUND! It’s SPARKY-SPARKY-BOOM!”

Mr. and Mrs. Portman stood across from me, both clapping along to their own applause. Their bot was… An interesting design.

A bomb. It looked like a big black bomb, mostly spherical, but with a rotating horizontal spinner consisting of a massive saw blade wrapped around it. The nub at the top of it looked like a wick but was, in reality, a spout that shot fire.

Fire-breather against fire-breather it was.

We were led into our respective boxes while our bots were wheeled onto the floor of the arena. “Hey there!” Mrs. Portman called out to me from her box, a smile I couldn’t decide on the veracity of gleaming across her face. Her husband, for his part, had adopted a smug smirk.

“Hi,” I said awkwardly.

“Good luck tonight!”

“Thanks, you too,” I said, my voice dipping low.

“Oops, be careful about that voice,” Mrs. Portman said. “There’s cameras and microphones everywhere, you know.”

“Yeah, I picked up on that when you posted me on Insta without my consent,” I snapped.

“Oh please, I did you a favor- you had no exposure on any socials, it was time you made your big high society debut,” Mrs. Portman said.

White hot anger flashed inside me like a lightning bolt. “Lady, where the hell do you get off-”

“ROBOTS! ACTIVATE!” screamed the mechanical announcer.

Mrs. Portman punched her button and then gave me a mocking wave.

“We’re finishing this conversation later,” I said.

“I sure hope we are!” she smiled.

I grunted. Stay calm, stay calm, stay calm. I punched the button, and the bot battle began.

The thing with horizontal spinners was that they had a built-in defense system, provided they didn’t take any major hits before they achieved full speed. Which meant there was a limited amount of time before my attacks would stop being as effective. Normally, a simple weapon like my katana would be able to jam the spinning blades before they could get to full power.

But I hadn’t brought my katana that night. For tonight, I’d gone with a throwback and attached the ax Polyphemus. It would slow me down, but coming at this opponent from above made more sense to me than an attempted shot to the proverbial heart.

Sparky-Sparky-Boom was faster than it looked- it came charging at me right out the gate, Mr. Portman stoic and stern as he piloted the bot. I didn’t move, didn’t even attempt to pivot. I just waited, waited, waited-

I slammed the trigger on my ax as SSB closed the gap, and my ax pile-drived into my opponent’s spinning hacksaw. Their weapon shattered, sliced down the middle and torn off its axis.

“OH WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT! KATE CALLOWAY HAS MADE A BRUTAL OPENING STATEMENT WITH A CRUSHING BLOW, DISABLING SPARKY-SPARKY-BOOM’S PRIMARY WEAPON WITH A SWING OF THE AX!” Marty screamed.

“Nice shot, ‘girly,’” Mrs. Portman said, adding air quotes to the final word. Jerk. “Can you handle the heat, though?”

With that, her husband barrelled forward and rammed me the second I’d withdrawn my ax, pouring on the heat from its fire-spout as it used its greater weight to simply push me towards the screws.

Dammit!

I slammed the trigger on my ax again, hoping to power it up quickly, all while trying to get myself out of SSB’s terrible momentum, but it none of my controls moved fast enough, and the next thing I knew I was shoved directly into the rotating screws as the blades took chunks out of Poly’s backside. Dammit!

Ten seconds elapsed, and SSB was forced to back off.

Mrs. Portman said something, with that smug grin plastered to her face as she worked the controls on her flamethrower, but I didn’t hear it. I didn’t care what it was. I couldn’t tell if she was being serious or if she was just playing the heel like I always had. And I didn’t care about that, either. I just knew I wanted to win.

I flanked left around the bomb-shaped bot, taking advantage of its weight and slow turn time, bathing it in flames from both my flamethrowers while my ax got itself ready. SSB kept trying to turn, and I let myself slow down just an instant.

SSB shot straight for me, and I pivoted Poly and brought the ax down on them again, slamming it directly into their flamethrower and setting loose a small explosion as a spark lit against the leaking fuel. I pried my ax free and went on the retreat, while SSB, wobbling on its axis, crawled towards me, hoping to ram me again.

I tried the same trick again, but my ax wasn’t working- dammit, the fire must have disabled the controls! SSB rammed me, pushing me towards the rising kill saws in the center of the box, and all I could do was pour on the fire as the larger bot shoved me around like a ragdoll.

I spewed fire, fire, fire, until finally, SSB started to smoke in all the wrong places and its engine gave off a sickly, wheezing, sputtering sound. It slowed down, slower, slower, slower. Half an inch from the kill saw behind it, Poly managed to stop SSB in its tracks, bringing the bomb-shaped bot to a halt entirely.

Once the kill saws went down, I drove out of the way, and the countdown started as SSB found itself entirely stationary.

“-3, 2, 1- that’s the fight!” the ref decreed as the alarm sounded and the crowd went wild.

I was half-tempted to do my usual fist-pump, to scream and jeer, to make a big stupid macho display of myself… But I didn’t want that. So instead, I gave a simple curtsey and then ambled over to the interview.

“So, Kate Calloway, two wins in a row, and this the first one as the new you,” Derek Benes said into the microphone. “Did everything go according to plan tonight?”

“Oh, there was no plan,” I admitted, scratching the back of my head and laughing awkwardly. “I’d never faced the Portmans before, I was mostly just winging it. Except for the ax, that was planned, but even then I had to improvise.”

“Anything to say to your upcoming opponents now that you have a winning record? The regular season is winding down, and you’re still gonna need another win to make it into the tournament.”

I looked for words within, looked for a version of my usual bullshit that wouldn’t give me dysphoria. Maybe… Maybe I should just try to do the opposite of what I would normally do. What was the worst that could happen?

“Just that I’m really looking forward to fighting each and every one of you,” I said with the sincerest smile I could muster. “May the best bot win!”

Derek bid me farewell, and I pulled the sledge carrying my bot into the pits. Half of the wires were fried, and the ax was gonna need sharpening, and I’d gone through a month’s worth of flamethrower fuel in the span of three minutes, but… But dammit, I’d won, and I hadn’t made an ass of myself for a change. I was proud of myself.

It was a new feeling.

“Hey there,” Mrs. Portman said as she walked up to me.

Crap. This was gonna be difficult.

“Hi,” I managed.

“Good fight,” she said. “It was.”

“Don’t think you’ll win a second time, though,” she said, that passive-aggressive smile never leaving her face. “I underestimated you tonight. It won’t happen again.”

“Well, hopefully you trying to dox someone on social media won’t happen again either,” I said, planting my feet and putting my hands on my hips.

“I’d hardly call what I did doxxing-”

“Maybe not, but I wouldn’t call it a good thing to do, either.”

“Oh please, I did you a favor.”

I scowled. “A favor? You call that a favor?”

“Yeah,” she said, folding her arms behind her back. “Forced your hand and made you think about how you present yourself, carry yourself. Given that you’ve clearly never spared a moment’s thought to that before this past week, I’d say I did you a favor.”

I gritted my teeth. Unbelievable; this jerk was trying to turn this around on me. I bunched my fists together, feeling the screams coming from deep within my belly.

Then I felt a hand on my shoulder from behind. “I think what she’s trying to say is that she would have appreciated you asking her before you did something like that,” Zeke said, putting his arm around me and standing by my side.

A fluttering joy sang through me as I stood with him, as he protected me, as he helped me protect the person I wanted to be.

“Hm. Well, agree to disagree,” Mrs. Portman said as her husband came over and stood beside her.

The four of us all glared at each other, until finally, I started laughing. The Portmans stared at me in confusion and irritation for a moment, and then Zeke started laughing too. The Portmans left while Zeke and I kept standing there laughing like idiots.

Faith approached us from the back entrance and said, “Uh, what are you two laughing about?”

“Oh, just how ridiculous this all is,” I said.

“And how ridiculous those two are,” Zeke said.

“And how ridiculous I am,” I said.

“Hey now, come on, what did you say about being mean to yourself?”

I exhaled heavily. “That I’d do it less?”

“Yes, exactly. You won tonight, and you had a successful debut. We should celebrate.”

“Sounds great!” I said. I turned to Faith and said, “You wanna come with?”

She hesitated, but finally said, “No, I don’t think so.”

“Are you sure?” Zeke asked.

“I’m sure,” she said, heading for the exit. “I’m gonna go home and get some sleep. You two have fun though!”

She smiled, and she waved, but as she left, I couldn’t help but notice the sadness in her eyes.

#original fiction #serial fiction #web novel #trans woman #trans protagonist #wlw #comedy #romcom #romance novel #romantic comedy #enemies to lovers #enemies to friends to lovers #rivals to lovers #battlebots #tournament arc #indie author #bookblr #self promo

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themysteriouslou · 3 years

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Rachel Morales (TWC) // Eileen Travers (TWC)

Antheia Glovelyn (ShoH) // Lynne Van Aldhren (The Marked)

I was tagged by @faithchel, @scungilliwoman, @belorage and @jmiacolt (thank you! 💜) to do some of my ocs in the picrew! This time is Rae, Ei and Antheia's turn, so I hope you like them! 💜

Tagging: @cobb-vanthss, @redroci, @foofygoldfish, @loriane-elmuerto, @lxmbert, @amistrio and @starsandskies!

#oc: rae #oc: eileen #oc: antheia #oc: lynne #i really liked this picrew #it's so pretty!#tag game

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eulaliasims · 9 months

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Elly wanted to win a cooking contest, so she headed down to the community center with a pear tartlette to enter.

Booooo, this contest was rigged! Rigged, I tell you!

Spotted: Jacob making a new friend. (:

#TS2 #Middleground #Cobb #Eileen Cobb #Jacob Suarez #Syx #Olivia Alvarez

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ducktracy · 4 years

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184. the woods are full of cuckoos (1937)

release date: december 4th, 1937

series: merrie melodies

director: frank tashlin

starring: mel blanc (owlcott, walter finchell, milton squirrel, wendell howl, fox, raven mcquandry), tedd pierce (ben birdie, tizzie fish, andy bovine), sara berner (polly gillette, canary livingstone)

this cartoon gets the honorable award of possibly being the most dated warner bros. shorts in its vast repertoire of cartoons. not to worry! this will be a fun cartoon to unpack—i love delving into the shorts that involve extensive research. learning something new is something that‘s very rewarding to me, and i hope it is to you, too!

a giant ode to the short lived radio program community sing (lasting from 1936-1937), the short chronicles a woodland radio show hosted by a variety of caricatured animals putting on various acts.

iris in to the ringing of a bell. a pudgy, bespectacled owl rings it as he stands illuminated by the moonlight, preaching to all of the woodland critters, ready to start the show. he introduces himself as “owlcott”, a take on commentator alexander woollcott. he “blandly announces” (his words, not mine) the introduction of the master of ceremonies, ben birdie--a bird caricature of radio personality ben bernie, “the old maestro”.

birdie’s caricature is not new to audience’s eyes. the caricature, along with a handful of others, is reused from friz freleng’s the coocoo nut grove from 1936, a short that is very similar in vein to this one. tedd pierce provides birdie’s suave, velvety vocals as he introduces the program, only to be interrupted by the nasally cries of mel blanc. out pops walter finchell, a caricature of bernie’s faux-enemy walter winchell, both of whom carrying a notorious (and fake) feud in the radio-verse. it was common for winchell to interrupt the smooth-talking bernie, either throwing pranks or remarks his way, to which bernie dismissed every time. indeed, a signature tashlin upshot angle reveals finchell dropping an egg on top of birdie, who blocks it nonchalantly with a handy umbrella.

art loomer’s backgrounds for the cartoon are absolutely gorgeous. they’re vibrant in color, very lush and painterly, but remain playful and sophisticated at the same time. they certainly serve as a highlight to the short. and, as always, carl stalling’s scores are a blast to hear--his sardonic, wah-wah rendition of “cause my baby says it’s so” is a jolly juxtaposition to the prior score of “love is on the air tonight”, the latter being the song’s cartoon debut. it would be reused in cartoons such as the daffy doc, whereas “cause my baby says its so” was heard previously in rover’s rival.

birdie introduces a clever squirrel caricature of milton berle, whose routine gets interrupted by a little parrot named polly. polly is a take on eileen barton’s character, little jolly gillette, who was portrayed as the daughter of the show’s sponsor. polly and milton go through their act together, polly bluntly (yet innocently) announcing “my daddy says ya gotta let me sing ‘cause he’s a sponsor!” you can listen to real recordings of their banter here!

volney white’s animation of milton and polly is lively and jovial, constantly moving. milton energetically introduces us to our next star, pointing in the wrong direction and fixing it last second as he gestures towards a bird caricature of country singer wendell hall.

even if viewers don’t recognize the bird’s counterpart, they will most certainly recognize his voice--mel uses his foghorn leghorn voice for wendell “howl”. of course, foghorn wouldn’t debut for another 9 years, but that’s another story. the animation of the raucous bird is fun to watch as he extends his neck and wraps it around in coils around the microphone stand. random? yes, but fun nevertheless.

perhaps even more commendable is the staggering crowd shot that succeeds wendell’s scenes. the crowd is mirrored horizontally, but that doesn’t lessen the blow from how claustrophobic it is. wendell asks the audience to get out their songbooks and turn to page “22... no, page 44. uh, no, uh, page 28. uh, 42, uh, 36, uh, 45...”

wendell is transformed from an entertainer to an auctioneer, spitting out numbers at rapid pace as his crowd frantically tears through their songbooks. finally, he concedes. “oh, never mind. we won’t use the books.” off screen, the crowd roars in unison: “OH YES WE WILL!” with that, wendell is generously showered with a barrage of books, buried in the pile of rejected papers. the timing of the scene is comedically sharp and energetic, one of the more entertaining acts of the cartoon.

now, for the real song number, lead by goat and bear caricatures of billy jones and ernie hare (would a rabbit caricature be too on the nose?) respectively, animated by volney white. they march out onto the stage--er, tree trunk--and open the curtains to reveal a sing-along to the eponymous song. thus, the camera pans into the lyrics as everybody bursts into the all-too-earworm-causing song number.

as the crowd, ben birdie and walter finchell all lend their voices to the song, a fox caricature of fred allen sings “swanee river”, clashing with the unity of everybody else. in a nod to friz freleng’s toy town hall where the same routine was executed, a little bunny excitedly coos “ohhhh, mr. allen! you’re singing the wrong sooooong!” the fox bursts into everybody’s favorite Mel Blanc Yell as he repeats a frequent ‘30s catchphrase: “WHY DON’T SOMEBODY TELL ME THESE THINGS!?”

featured in the song is a seemingly interminable cast of celebrity caricatures, all introduced as the camera pans across the screen, each lending their voice to part of the song. some puns require more effort than others (dick powell as “dick fowl” rolls off the tongue better than al jolson as “al goatson”). caricatures include:

eddie cantor as eddie gander, sophie tucker as sophie turkey, w.c. fields as w.c. fieldmouse, dick powell as dick fowl, fats waller as fats swallow, deanna durbin as deanna terrapin, irvin s. cobb as irvin s. frog, fred macmurray as fred mcfurry, bing crosby as bing crowsby, al jolson as al goatson, ruby keeler as ruby squealer, lanny ross as lanny hoss, grace moore as grace moose, and finally lily pons as lily swans.

speaking of grace and lily, they’re both highlighted as they fight to out-perform each other, seeing who can sing the highest note. tashlin pulls of a rather intriguing camera move: as the pan settles on the two of them, the background changes. it’s a subtle maneuver, but smart thinking nonetheless--especially since the camera extends into a vertical pan. as both women fight to sing the highest note, their necks extend, both of them scaling high into the night sky, harmonizing on one final shrill note. they both crumple back into the stands, exhausted by their efforts. some fun exaggerated animation for sure--one wonders how much further this would have been pushed had this been tashlin’s second stint at WB rather than his first. his speed often rivaled, if not out-performed, tex avery’s.

birdie and finchell have a brief interstitial together before making way for a raven caricature of haven macquarrie (raven mcquandry). his sequence is almost jarringly short, but full of fun drawings and poses--the pose of him standing curtly with his arms crossed is awfully reminiscent of izzy ellis’ work under tashlin and later bob clampett in the mid ‘40s. mcquandry asks “do YOU wanna be an actor?”, parotting the name of his real life counterpart’s show so do you want to be an actor? the audience shouts “NO!” in unison, causing mcquandry to do a take and shrug dubiously. though the scene is only a few short seconds, the animation brings forth some much needed vitality.

next is a penguin caricature of joe penner, singing a hilariously out-of-tune rendition of “my green fedora”. the animation is reused from the cartoon of the same name (notice how he doesn’t have penguin feet!), which was also used in toy town hall. not a complaint, but more an observation--this is by far the most humorous performance of the song yet, sung by blanc rather than tommy bond.

another fun scene with some vivacious animation is a sequence featuring a mule caricature of martha raye (dubbed moutha bray), singing a cover of “how could you?”, which has been featured as an underscore in cartoons such as porky’s badtime story and its later remake, tick tock tuckered. raye’s large mouth served as prime material for caricatures, as we see here. the animation is snappy, fun, and vivid--she finishes her song by “swallowing” the camera, an old trick that beckons memories of the harman and ising cartoons of animation past.

an interesting trend in the ‘30s WB cartoons is the trend of playing with the iris, whether it was the closing iris out or an iris in between transitions. tex avery would consistently play with the final iris out on his cartoons, whereas directors such as friz freleng and bob clampett would use one as a transition between scenes. here, tashlin uses the “swallow the camera” technique as a segue for an iris in, tedd pierce’s falsetto squeaking “hello folksies!” as we’re introduced to a fish caricature of tizzie lish, a character played by bill comstock on al pearce and his gang.

though tizzie has long faded into obscurity (as has the entire community sing radio show), it’s still quite easy to appreciate pierce’s vocals and mannerisms as he portrays the character. it’s always a joy to hear him doing voices for cartoons--he’s never been my favorite writer on the crew, but he was an excellent talent as a voice actor. his squeaky deliveries, matter of fact deliveries “mix them up... are you mixing? my friends say i’m a good mixer. are you? or aren’t you?” as tizzie haphazardly dumps food items and their respective utensils into a bowl and prepares the meal are nothing short of hilarious. the timing is very well executed and can be appreciated regardless of background knowledge.

after humming a pitchy rendition of “the lady in red” while waiting for her concoction to bake in the waffle iron, tizzie removes the homemade waffle and discards it, instructing the audience “now take the ‘wiffle’ out and eat the iron. you must have iron in your system. or should you?” thus concludes tizzie’s act, certainly heightened in hilarity by pierce’s vocals and timing.

for the final act, ben birdie introduces a possum caricature of louella parsons, the host of the radio program hollywood hotel, which served as a way to advertise upcoming movies by featuring guest stars enacting some of the scenes. here, we have caricatures of jack benny (as jack bunny, the first of his many reoccurrences), mary livingstone (canary livingstone), and andy devine (andy bovine).

tedd pierce voices andy bovine, whose voice burlusqued not only in this cartoon, but to a greater extent in friz freleng’s my little buckeroo not even a year later. devine, a western star, was notorious for his scratchy, shrill voice which was rife for comedic opportunity. indeed, this scene here with pierce’s vocals is nothing short of hilarious:

the trio chronicle the prodigal’s return, in which bunny and canary coo over their baby son. out of the bassinet pops incongruously large bovine, who shrieks “HOWDY MAAAA! HI PAAAA!”, the sheer volume of his voice enough to blow both of his parents away and out of the scene. and, with that, the scene ends, red curtains colorized from porky’s romance marking the sequence’s end. short, sweet, to the point, and hilarious.

ending right where the cartoon began, the owl caricature of alexander woollcott bids us farewell, the iris closing in on the bell he rings as he exclaims that all is well.

like so many other cartoons i’ve reviewed, this is one that i slowly warmed up to upon rewatching it and typing out the review for myself. i didn’t entirely dislike the cartoon upon my first watch, but it’s undeniably dated and deserves its title as possibly the most dated cartoon. without further research, some of the jokes and caricatures (if not all of them) are difficult to appreciate. the animation has bursts of energy throughout the short, the highlights being the scenes featuring raven mcquarry and moutha bray, but otherwise remains relatively simple and conservative. tashlin does incorporate a few intriguing camera angles throughout the cartoon, but many other entries of his are far more cinematic.

however, despite all of that, this cartoon is not without its bonuses: art loomer’s backgrounds are stunningly gorgeous and rich, and as someone who loves the lush, painterly backgrounds of the 1930s, this is heaven to me. and, as i mentioned previously, tedd pierce’s scenes are great--the tizzie fish and andy bovine sequences are undeniable comedic highlights.

so, if you’re willing to dedicate time to put in the research for this cartoon, you’ll find it’s quite fascinating! i’m certain this was a much bigger gut-buster in 1937 than it is in 2020, but even then, this is a good cartoon for people such as myself who love to learn more information and seek out facts. as a result, i’d recommend it to people who fall into that category. if you’re just someone who wants a good laugh and a leisurely watch, there are more interesting cartoons that lie ahead. you won’t miss much by skipping it.

with that said, here’s the link!

#lt #the woods are full of cuckoos #looney tunes #tashlin #reviews #long post

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j-r-123 · 4 years

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ALL MY CHILDREN - 25th anniversary party - 1/23/95

*front, left to right: Eileen Herlie, Tommy Michaels, Julia Barr, Pepe (dog), Amir Jamal Williams, Julia Pikus, David Canary, Sean Marquette, Susan Lucci, Ray MacDonnell, Kevin Alexander, Michael E. Knight, James Mitchell; *second row, left to right: John Callahan, Eva LaRue, Christopher Lawford, Michael Nader, Cady McClain, Winsor Harmon, Richard Shoberg, Jill Larson;

*third row, left to right: Lynne Thigpen, William Christian, Grant Aleksander, Kelly Ripa, Sarah Michelle Gellar, Rudolf Martin, Sydney Penny, Ingrid Rogers, Keith Hamilton Cobb;

*top row, left to right: Margaret Sophie Stein, Kimberly Foster, Felicity La Fortune, James Kiberd, Robin Mattson, Walt Willey, Teresa Blake. Missing: Ruth Warrick, Mary Fickett.

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gov-info · 5 years

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NASA Gov Doc: The Mercury 13

Members of the First Lady Astronaut Trainees (FLATs, also known as the "Mercury 13"), these seven women who once aspired to fly into space stand outside Launch Pad 39B near the Space Shuttle Discovery in this photograph from 1995. The so-called Mercury 13 was a group of women who trained to become astronauts for America's first human spaceflight program in the early 1960s. Although FLATs was never an official NASA program, the commitment of these women paved the way for others who followed. Visiting the space center as invited guests of STS-63 Pilot Eileen Collins, the first female shuttle pilot and later the first female shuttle commander, are (from left): Gene Nora Jessen, Wally Funk, Jerrie Cobb, Jerri Truhill, Sarah Rutley, Myrtle Cagle and Bernice Steadman.

And celebrate the first All- Female Spacewalk!

#nasa #gender

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newyorkthegoldenage · 5 years

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The Skin of Our Teeth (revival) by Thornton Wilder, directed by Alan Schneider. Special engagement at the ANTA Theater, Aug. 17–Sept. 3, 1955. Announcer Earl George Sabina Mary Martin Mr. Fitzpatrick Paul Morrison Mrs. Antrobus Helen Hayes Dinosaur Vinie Burrows Mammoth Patricia Taffe Telegraph Boy Fred Kareman Gladys Heller Halliday Henry Don Murray Mr. Antrobus George Abbott Doctor Frank Hamilton Professor Jonathan Anderson Judge Frank Silvera Homer Howard Fischer Miss E. Muse Eileen Lear Miss T. Muse Frances Sternhagen Miss M. Muse Maude Sheerer Fortune Teller Florence Reed Chair Pusher Frank Silvera Broadcast Official Earl George Ass’t Broadcast Official Frank Hamilton Fred Bailey Howard Fischer Hester Maud Sheerer Ivy Vinie Burrows Mr. Tremaine Frank Silvera

Conveners, Tourists, Atlantic City Sightseers: Emily Cobb, Jack Delmonte, John Dorman, David Elliott, Tom Geroghty, Lily Lodge, Richard O’Neill, Ann Stanwell

On this day, August 17, in 1955, a star-studded production of The Skin of Our Teeth opened on Broadway at the ANTA Theater. It had originally been staged in Paris by the American National Theatre and Academy as part of the “Salute to France” celebration. It was later presented in several American cities with largely the same cast, and a shortened version was telecast as part of NBC’s “Producers Showcase” in 1955.

Above: Mary Martin (standing) and, seated, George Abbott, Helen Hayes, Heller Halliday (Martin’s daughter), and Don Murray.

#Skin of Our Teeth #Thornton Wilder #Mary Martin #George Abbott #Helen Hayes #Don Murray #Frances Sternhagen #Florence Reed

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justforbooks · 5 years

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I.M. Pei, world-renowned architect who revived the Louvre, has died at age 102

I.M. Pei, the versatile, globe-trotting architect who revived the Louvre with a giant glass pyramid and captured the spirit of rebellion at the multi-shaped Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, has died at age 102. Pei's death was confirmed Thursday to The Associated Press by Marc Diamond, a spokesman for the architect's New York firm, Pei Cobb Freed & Partners. One of Pei's sons, Li Chung Pei, announced that his father had died early Thursday in his Manhattan home.

Pei's works ranged from the trapezoidal addition to the National Gallery of Art in Washington, D.C., to the chiseled towers of the National Center of Atmospheric Research that blend in with the reddish mountains in Boulder, Colorado.

His buildings added elegance to landscapes worldwide with their powerful geometric shapes and grand spaces. Among them are the striking steel and glass Bank of China skyscraper in Hong Kong and the Fragrant Hill Hotel near Beijing.

His work spanned decades, starting in the late 1940s and continuing through the new millennium. Two of his last major projects, the Museum of Islamic Art, located on an artificial island just off the waterfront in Doha, Qatar, and the Macau Science Center, in China, opened in 2008 and 2009.

Pei painstakingly researched each project, studying its use and relating it to the environment. But he also was interested in architecture as art — and the effect he could create.

"At one level my goal is simply to give people pleasure in being in a space and walking around it," he said. "But I also think architecture can reach a level where it influences people to want to do something more with their lives. That is the challenge that I find most interesting."

Deborah Berke, the dean of the Yale School of Architecture, told CBS News in a phone interview Thursday night "there was no doubt Pei was a genius."

Berke, who met Pei some time ago, described him as "elegant and a gracious gentleman" and pointed out the importance of his earlier work, including his legacy at the New College of Florida in Sarasota where he designed the original three clusters of dormitories in the 1960s.

"They were beautiful, regionally appropriate modern buildings," Berke said, "that illustrated early college life."

Pei, who as a schoolboy in Shanghai was inspired by its building boom in the 1930s, immigrated to the United States and studied architecture at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology and Harvard University. He advanced from his early work of designing office buildings, low-income housing and mixed-use complexes to a worldwide collection of museums, municipal buildings and hotels.

He fell into a modernist style blending elegance and technology, creating crisp, precise buildings.

His big break was in 1964, when he was chosen over many prestigious architects, such as Louis Kahn and Ludwig Mies van der Rohe, to design the John F. Kennedy Memorial Library in Boston.

At the time, Jacqueline Kennedy said all the candidates were excellent, "But Pei! He loves things to be beautiful." The two became friends.

A slight, unpretentious man, Pei developed a reputation as a skilled diplomat, persuading clients to spend the money for his grand-scale projects and working with a cast of engineers and developers.

Some of his designs were met with much controversy, such as the 71-foot faceted glass pyramid in the courtyard of the Louvre museum in Paris. French President Francois Mitterrand, who personally selected Pei to oversee the decaying, overcrowded museum's renovation, endured a barrage of criticism when he unveiled the plan in 1984.

Many of the French vehemently opposed such a change to their symbol of their culture, once a medieval fortress and then a national palace. Some resented that Pei, a foreigner, was in charge.

But Mitterrand and his supporters prevailed and the pyramid was finished in 1989. It serves as the Louvre's entrance, and a staircase leads visitors down to a vast, light-drenched lobby featuring ticket windows, shops, restaurants, an auditorium and escalators to other parts of the vast museum.

"All through the centuries, the Louvre has undergone violent change," Pei said. "The time had to be right. I was confident because this was the right time."

Another building designed by Pei's firm — the John Hancock Tower in Boston — had a questionable future in the early 1970s when dozens of windows cracked and popped out, sending glass crashing to the sidewalks, during the time the building was under construction.

A flurry of lawsuits followed among the John Hancock Mutual Life Insurance Co., the glass manufacturer, and Pei's firm. A settlement was reached in 1981.

Berke called the Hancock Tower a "handsome building" that "surprisingly stood the test of time."

No challenge seemed to be too great for Pei, including the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, which sits on the shore of Lake Erie in downtown Cleveland, Ohio. Pei, who admitted he was just catching up with the Beatles, researched the roots of rock 'n' roll and came up with an array of contrasting shapes for the museum. He topped it off with a transparent tent-like structure, which was "open — like the music," he said.

In 1988, President Ronald Reagan honored him with a National Medal of Arts. He also won the prestigious Pritzker Architecture Prize, 1983, and the American Institute of Architects Gold Medal, 1979. President George H.W. Bush awarded him the Presidential Medal of Freedom in 1992.

Pei officially retired in 1990 but continued to work on projects. Two of his sons, Li Chung Pei and Chien Chung Pei, former members of their father's firm, formed Pei Partnership Architects in 1992. Their father's firm, previously I.M. Pei and Partners, was renamed Pei Cobb Freed & Partners.

The museum in Qatar that opened in 2008 was inspired by Islamic architectural history, especially the 9th century mosque of Ahmed ibn Tulun in the Egyptian capital of Cairo. It was established by the tiny, oil-rich nation to compete with rival Persian Gulf countries for international attention and investment.

Ieoh Ming Pei was born April 26, 1917, in Canton, China, the son of a banker. He later said, "I did not know what architecture really was in China. At that time, there was no difference between an architect, a construction man, or an engineer."

Pei came to the United States in 1935 with plans to study architecture, then return to practice in China. However, World War II and the revolution in China prevented him from coming back.

During the war, Pei worked for the National Defense Research Committee. As an "expert" in Japanese construction, his job was to determine the best way to burn down Japanese towns. "It was awful," he later said.

In 1948, New York City real estate developer William Zeckendorf hired Pei as his director of architecture. During this period, Pei worked on many large urban projects and gained experience in areas of building development, economics and construction.

Some of his early successes included the Mile High Center office building in Denver, the Kips Bay Plaza Apartments in Manhattan, and the Society Hill apartment complex in Philadelphia.

Pei established his own architectural firm in 1955, a year after he became a U.S. citizen. He remained based in New York City. Among the firm's accomplishments are the Jacob Javits Convention Center in New York City and the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington.

Pei's wife, Eileen, who he married in 1942, died in 2014. A son, T'ing Chung, died in 2003. Besides sons Chien Chung Pei and Li Chung Pei, he is survived by a daughter, Liane.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at http://justforbooks.tumblr.com

#JUST FOR BOOKS #IN MEMORIAM #I.M. Pei

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