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re-bec-ca-ann · 2 years

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Seeing You

(Through New Eyes) - Read on AO3.

Incredible art by @sachart.

Eddie only catches a glimpse because instead of being inside surrounded by the likes of Dustin Henderson, Mike Wheeler, and the rest of the Hellfire Club, he’s outside having a cigarette when Steve arrives for pick-up duty. The former jock parks his well-known burgundy BMW against the curb adjacent to the Wheeler’s driveway and turns off the ignition. Eddie watches from under his lashes and takes another drag, hoping the nicotine will calm the flame inside his belly that seems to grow whenever he and Steve come into one another’s orbit. A piece of Eddie is screaming at him to either take his smoke break to the side of the two-story house near the hedges or deem it a lost cause and retreat to the basement before he gets spotted staring and potentially labeled a creep. Sure, they’ve been through hell and back together, Steve quite literally carrying him back to the land of the living all those months ago, and Dustin is a solid judge of character, but who can really blame Eddie for having the urge to hide certain things from the once king of Hawkins High? He’s still a freak and Steve’s still from a royal bloodline.

The Metalhead lingers long enough for his curiosity to win out though when he gets a closer look at Steve’s face as he sits in the driver’s seat for longer than necessary and notices something unfamiliar adorning the other man’s face: glasses.

The frames are dark brown or maybe even black and somewhat square. Steve’s chestnut hair hides the parts that curl around his ears. When Steve turns, rummaging around in the compartments on the side of the driver’s side door with a frustrated scowl, Eddie takes note of how the frames all but disappear when they reach the apples of the man’s cheeks and the sides of his nose. His already prominent nose looks even sharper and more defined, drawing attention to the strong bridge and angular slope. And his eyes, even with the distance limiting Eddie’s visual appraisal, appear both bigger and deeper set. Unfortunately for Eddie, the flame burning in his gut seems to be fueled by the sight. His insides churn with regret, suspecting, knowing, his affections are futile and so he shakes himself from his stupor, stubs out the forgotten cigarette, and makes a calculated dash for the door.

When Steve enters the Wheeler’s basement about two minutes later, alerting Dustin that it’s time to pack up his nerd shit and go, his face is bare.

Eddie wonders sourly if he wears them only to drive, but all but debunks that theory when he spots Steve squinting at the character sheet Dustin is shoving in his face as he vents his frustrations about how Eddie is simultaneously pure evil and mad genius with his riddle-laden campaigns.

When Steve throws a look at him, Eddie knows he should grin wide or let out a devilish cackle, but his expression remains focused as he studies the jock’s face and tries not to think too hard about how much he appreciates the other man's jaw, eyes, and nose both with and without the glasses.

-------

It’s Friday night and Eddie’s plans are bordering on lame, still, he does have some. Wayne is working the overnight shift which means he’ll have the government-refurbished trailer to himself. He doesn’t like being alone per se, but he does bask in the glory of having the small space all to himself. So tonight it’ll include one or two freshly rolled blunts, some dollar snacks, Labyrinth on VHS, and a six-pack of beer that’s cheap but decent—a favorite combination of the Munsons. The last two things, the movie and the beer, unfortunately, hang in balance, depending on who’s manning Family Video and the corner gas station. He hopes for friends or at least friendly acquaintances to be found at each establishment.

As the metalhead pulls into Family Video, van lurching to a halt when he slams on the breaks and puts the vehicle into park, he spots that burgundy Beemer he’s grown to associate with good things rather than annoyance and rage.

At this point, he considers Steve to be a friend, but he isn’t above buttering him up with an offer or two of taking over chauffeuring duties for a week. He won’t show his hand right away though. Maybe Steve will be in a giving mood. Maybe he’s got a date on the horizon and won’t give a shit about Eddie’s late fees, more focused on making it through the day and clocking out. And doesn’t that possibility just twist at Eddie’s insides a tad too much to be acceptable.

The door of the van creaks open, noise interrupting what appears to be a rather dull evening in Hawkins. And sure, it makes sense—more than half of the town left after the “earthquake”—but it still causes the metalhead to flinch at the possibility of drawing attention to himself. He’d been cleared of the murders, some guy named Owens had pulled a few strings on behalf of Jim Hopper, but an accusation like murder didn’t leave even the innocent unscathed, especially not an outcast.

When he reaches the glass door to the store, Eddie peers inside and finds Steve behind the counter entering data into the computer. He’s in his usual uniform, vest and all, but the suave-haired, broad-shouldered man is wearing the glasses again. Eddie feels like he’s seeing something he’s not supposed to. The retired king resembles more of a nerd with spectacles on—or at least that’s what his former friends, fans, and followers would categorize him as in this state. Eddie, however, is enamored more than usual. He’s surprised that a string of drool hasn't made its way out of his mouth yet, insides boiling with attraction and frustration.

The retired jock has yet to notice Eddie, leaving him to gaze freely for a bit longer at the endearing display of Steve Harrington appearing more human and flawed than god-like. But Eddie has enough sense to realize that he’s got about twenty more seconds before this crosses the line into weird and invasive territory. Reluctantly, he shoves the door in with his shoulder, and the bell above clangs violently against the frame.

Eddie’s just about to greet Steve when the other man’s eyes flash up in a panic at the presence of another soul, another set of eyes. He hears him mutter out a “shit” before he spins on his heels, rips the glasses from his face, and shoves them somewhere behind the counter. Eddie hopes he didn’t scratch or crack them in his haste—for self-indulgent and considerate reasons. Steve obviously needs them more than he’s willing to let on.

“Uh, hey, Munson.”

Eddie waves, trying to play it cool. He wants to tell Steve to put the glasses back on, reassure him that they don’t look bad and that there’s nothing wrong with needing a little help to function. But he notes the scarlet blush that’s gaining traction on the man’s face and pities him.

Don’t push, Munson. Don’t push.

“Just you here?” he asks plainly.

Steve nods and swallows, face morphing into a somewhat relieved expression.

“So you won’t mind turning a blind eye to some temporarily missing late rentals for a friend?”

Steve scoffs but it comes out more merry. “Friend, huh?”

Eddie tries but fails to keep his face from falling at the implication that Steve doesn’t consider them friends. His heart aches and his brain threatens to spiral even at the chance he’s still just a blip on Harrington’s radar.

Steve must catch on because he shakes his head and elaborates with an eager tone, “I mean, we are friends. How can we not be after everything? But, uh…”

Eddie’s head and heart need to know how that sentence is intended to end, so he presses forward. “But what?”

Steve cocks his head and sighs, shoves his hands into the back pockets of his jeans, and shrugs. “Friends hang out, don’t they?”

Although he’s internally wondering if this is all a joke, Eddie’s responding grin is feral and thrilled. “Shit, Steve. If you wanted to spend quality time with me, all you had to do was ask.”

He expects the jock to scoff and tell him to fuck off, but he does the opposite, leaving Eddie once again surprised by the man who’s worming his way into the metalhead’s heart at an alarming rate.

“Consider this me asking then.”

Jesus H Christ. He’s for real. Steve wants to spend time with me. This isn’t Gareth or Jeff or Dustin. It’s Steve Harrington requesting my time and attention.

Eddie wants to throw up and scream in victory at the absurdity of it all.

“All right,” he comments, schooling his voice into nonchalance as his hands twitch at his sides. “Tonight then. You, me, and Bowie.”

“Bowie?”

“Oh, right!” Eddie exclaims, dashing toward the new rentals and snatching Labyrinth from the shelf. He returns to his spot in front of Steve and shakes the case for him to see. “Bowie!”

Steve hums. Eddie can’t tell if it’s a good or a bad hum—or maybe a confused hum as he realizes that the jock is scrunching his eyes at the cover. He quells the urge to bring up the glasses and decides to tease Steve for his taste instead, not wanting to chance ruining their hang out before it’s even happened.

“Wait, don’t—don’t tell me you don’t like Bowie?” he cries like a wounded animal, clutching the tape to his chest.

“I didn’t say that!” Steve retorts.

And while that’s true, Eddie is having far too much fun being the catalyst for Steve’s blossoming flustered state.

“Don’t say another word, Harrington,” Eddie counters. “I really don’t want to have to renege on our plans.”

“Well, sorry if I’m just too cool to—”

“Nope. Not listening. Zip it, Steve,” he sing-songs heading toward the exit. “I’ll grab drinks and snacks. Although I’m sure my selections won’t be ‘cool enough’ for you. But former kings can’t be picky, now can they?”

“Wait, Eddie! The movie, you can’t just take it before I scan—”

Eddie wiggles his fingers in Steve’s direction and darts toward his van. Before he hops in and slams the door shut, he yells out, “Bye, Stevie! See you at 8.”

As Eddie heads down the road toward Lou’s corner store and gas station, his gut churns in excitement and disbelief. He thinks about the two of them sitting on the worn couch, maybe side by side, watching Bowie in all his glory on the TV. The TV. The small and already hard-to-see TV. Shit.

-------

Eddie is all but pacing the short space of the trailer’s living room as he waits for Steve’s arrival. Steve Harrington is coming to his house because he wants to spend time with Eddie and like an already lovesick fool, he’s got beer in the fridge and a plethora of snacks on the dented and scratched kitchen counter. At the gas station, he had to talk himself down from having an all-out panic attack because instead of just asking Steve what he liked to eat, he chose to go the playful, put-on careless route which led him to entertaining two stressful guessing games down both the candy and chip aisles. So now he’s got more bags and boxes of sugary, salty, crunchy, and sour treats than his or Steve’s teeth and stomachs can handle. There are Twizzlers, Milk Duds, sour gum drops, plain potato chips, BBQ potato chips, Doritos, nonpareils, Gobstoppers, and those gross waxy rootbeer bottles that are filled with liquid that no one like—but maybe Steve does? Fortunately for Eddie’s pinballing mind, headlights shine through the window and the metalhead strides toward the door to confirm who it is.

Eddie can’t help the smile that forms on his face as Steve extracts himself from the car and brushes out the imaginary wrinkles in his shirt. His grin, however, falls into a frown rather quickly at the sight of the jock pulling the infamous glasses from the bridge of his nose, shoving them into a soft case, and pocketing them in his Members Only jacket. Eddie sighs at the humanizing display of Steve’s obvious discomfort at needing and wearing something not up to the standards of Hawkins’ royalty. It irks Eddie and he isn’t sure if he wants to shake Steve to knock some sense into him or dismantle all of society’s beauty standards with his chaotic energy and rage.

Steve raps his knuckles against the aluminum door before Eddie can decide which option to dedicate his life to.

“Welcome, my liege!” he says as he swings the door open and bows before the other man.

Steve’s responding scoff is littered with a lightheartedness that makes Eddie want to beam with delight.

“What? Isn’t that how all of the mere and mortal peasants greet Steve ‘The King’ Harrington?” Eddie questions with feigned shock.

The laugh the other man releases is amused. “Nah, just the freaks, it seems.” The supposed dig is becoming a tender nickname lately—especially when Steve uses it. No longer a weaponized or venomous word but an endearing term that Eddie has always worn with a hint of pride that has now doubled in size and continues to grow. It feels good to find people who see and accept him for who he truly is. And Eddie yearns to do the same.

Eddie snags two beers from the fridge and tells Steve to grab whatever snacks tickle his fancy. When he turns back to face the counter, the Milk Duds and wax bottles are missing. He shakes his head, curls bouncing, and snatches the Gobstoppers and nonpareils. And they say I’m the freak?

They’re thirty minutes into the film, Steve’s arm draped across the back of the couch in an attempt to appear casual, while Eddie taps his fingers against the cardboard candy box where only half of the Gobstoppers remain. Eddie is trying to relax, he really is, but the way Steve is straining and rubbing at his temples every minute or so with his free hand is distracting. His instinct is to yell and go on an oddball rant about how glasses are actually metal as all heck and mainstream’s definition of style is a boring, capitalistic agenda, but he veers into the realm of soft deliveries in hopes of not scaring Steve away. “Hey, man,” Eddie starts, tone low and shaky. He waits until Steve acknowledges him to continue. “C-can you, uh, see the screen?”

“W-what do you mean?” Steve stammers and pinches his brow together. “I mean, of course. It’s right there,” he jokes, fingers pointing at the TV set.

Steve…” Eddie tries.

“Eddie,” Steve parrots back.

So much for the soft delivery, he thinks, standing up and leaning over the former jock to grab his discarded jacket and pull the case from the left-side pocket. He holds it up and declares, “I’m talking about these—” But the look on the other man’s face is embarrassed, maybe even petrified.

Shit, no.

Eddie sits back down and tries again, setting the glasses still in the case between their thighs. “I saw you wearing them when you came to pick up Dustin from Wheeler’s house, and then again at Family Video. I wasn’t spying or anything…”

Steve’s exasperated chuckle is dark and quiet but there. “Liked what you saw? The cool kid isn’t so cool anymore, huh?” Steve flops back against the couch and squeezes his eyes shut. “Go ahead, take your shot, Munson. I deserve it.”

“What? You think I’m going to make fun of you?” It’s Eddie’s turn to laugh. “Man, you really don’t trust people, do you?”

Eddie’s verbal attacks are reserved for bullies and authority figures on power trips. And sure, Steve might have fallen into one of those categories in years past, but he no longer does. The metalhead wouldn’t have opened his space to him otherwise.

Steve’s face is now pinched tighter with pain and a weighted sadness. “Sorry, I just—”

“Force of habit? Conditioned to expect the worst in people?” Offers Eddie. Steve’s nod is tired and a little depressed. “Yeah, me too.”

Steve sits up, stares ahead, and starts to pick at the hem of his shirt. “So if you aren’t going to rag on me, what were you going to say?”

Eddie swallows, throat going dry at the sudden fork in the road before him: play it off or be stupidly honest. And the thing is, Eddie isn’t one to run away from much anymore…

“Well,” he blinks. “I was going to say that it makes sense you might need help seeing after all the hits and kicks to the head from the buffoons we once classified as classmates and the interdimensional creatures hellbent on crushing your skull…” He could end it there. Call it a night. Finish the movie and have a chance at doing it again in the future. Or… “I was also going to say that they look good on you.”

Eddie’s not running, but he is afraid to let his gaze meet Steve’s face. He forces his eyes to drag their way over and up until they land on the other man’s now flushed cheeks and wide eyes. The development gives the metalhead a burst of courage and his thin fingers are reaching for the abandoned case from where he retrieves the neglected glasses. He unfolds them with trembling hands and leans forward, knee pressing into the warmth and sturdiness of Steve’s thigh. He places the glasses on the man’s face, the bridge resting on Steve’s defined nose, ends hooked through thick hair and resting on the curve of his ears. He’s pretty sure both he and Steve are holding their breath.

When he returns to his former position on the well-used couch, perhaps an inch or two closer to the jock’s body, it’s Steve who breaks the charged silence.

“Thank you,” he whispers, voice disbelieving.

Eddie’s heart flutters and a rush of air pushes out of his straining lungs. “You’re welcome.”

He’s trying not to grin like a maniac, but he catches a genuine smile tugging at Steve’s lips and takes it as an encouraging sign. “Now, where were we,” he says, turning his attention back to the screen.

If their hands brush once or twice over the course of the next hour and Steve catches Eddie admiring his glasses and blushes under the attention, well that’s something worth investigating at a later date. But for now, Eddie basks in the weirdness and wonder of being actual friends with one Steve Harrington. Glasses included.

#steddie #steddie fic #soft steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve harrington wears glasses #eddie x steve #steve x eddie #this is v fluffy

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invitationtoher · 14 days

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You're in my Way, Cage. | Chapter 2: Kitana

Chapter 1

Summery: Kitana Edenia, smart, beautiful, and stressed. With dreams of becoming a doctor due to her sister, Mileena, having a major case of chronic fatigue syndrome (CFS). Throughout her entire school life she's been focused on her goal of getting into the very same college that her mother and father went to and fell in love at, Mortal Kampus University (MKU), an ivy league school where the only people are intelligent as they are talented. Kitana vows to make her mother proud with no distractions, at least that was the plan until she met an obnoxious dirty blonde in her English Class.

Jonathan Carlton? No, he's Johnny Cage! Hollywood's next big star! He may not act as smart as he actually is, but he shines when it comes to entertainment, if it's on the screen or behind the scenes Johnny can do it all, thanks to the Carlton family being in the film industry for generations. Thanks to his parents money and his acting and martial arts talents (as well as writing), he got a scholarship to MKU's theater department! He knows MKU will be a good time, it's his chance to make his own name. When he sees a pretty girl in his English class whose walls seem unbreakable, he vows to break down those walls and see the real her by showing her a film.

Keeping your head down in college is much easier than keeping it down in high school, it seemed like most of my classmates had the same idea. Yet, it was only the first day, anything could happen, just like how those planners to help students stay on top of their work will disappear next week.

I was grateful that our professors seemed to be rather chill today, yet again, it was only the first day. We learned a little bit about the history of computers, mainly that ENIAC was the first electronic computer, and that the Colossus was the first programmable computer, I’m no tech nerd but so far it makes sense to me. Chemistry was about the first chemists, since it was a lecture instead of the LAB, Microbiology about LAB safety by watching a cheesy 80’s video (I have a gut feeling I’d have to rewatch it in my chem LAB tomorrow), the day was long but still not over.

I was lucky that the academic resources building was right next to the technology building, my whole schedule today was pretty much walking a huge square, and I’d most likely do the same thing tomorrow as well. I was the first person to arrive in the lecture room, my professor greeted me and made a playful quip about how early I was that I must be excited to learn English. I gave him a pitiful laugh to entertain him, his friendly expression turning into a prideful one that I laughed at his lame joke.

I sat down in the second row before the last on one of the edge seats, I always preferred to sit closer to the back during my dual enrollment classes I took, it kept me out of the sight of people and usually by the end of the second week the people that sit in the back eventually move to were ever their friends were sitting. No one ever sat next to anyone either, which means I have enough space to scatter my planner, my laptop, and notes that I took on my iPad. It also meant that I was free from unwanted socialization.

I pulled out my phone from my bag to check in on Mileena when I noticed the time, 12:15. I felt heat rising to my cheeks in embarrassment after realizing that I was 30 minutes early to my class, I bit my bottom lip, tasting that same strawberry lip gloss I just reapplied after Micro-bio ended.

How’s your day been? ┃

I sat there and waited for the three dots in the bubble to appear, it didn’t take long for Mileena to text back, it never does. She was a fast texter, always replying as fast as she could with her thumbs going fast enough to leave a trail of fire behind them.

┃Good, boring, how’s urs been?

Just great. ┃

I arrived at my English class half an hour early. ┃

And my teacher thinks he’s a comedian. ┃

┃Oh u poor thing 😢

┃I’ll make you some cookies for ur troubles

I rolled my eyes at her words; I could practically hear the sarcasm spewing through the screen.

Mileena’s day seemed… uneventful. We talk about our classes and what we’ve done so far to kill time, she already decided that her world history class would be her “fucking around” class since she so happens to be an expert on it all (doubtful, since they’re starting with a government unit.), as she so gracefully puts it.

She’s always been good at history, she’s definitely one the biggest history buff I know; she says that the class is like reading a whole book on the world and the mysteries of what happened before us, that the history textbooks we were forced to carry around were just a book filled with short stories that happened so we could learn from our mistakes and triumphs.

┃Have u talked to anyone?

┃U know dad’s gonna ask when he calls tonight

┃He wants u to get out there and meet people this year

┃And so do I…

┃I’m tired of them asking when I’m gonna meet a guy 😭

┃And have brats 🤢

┃As if I go outside at all even on a good day

I pressed my lips in a thin line, the once fun mood turned into a serious one as those three dots bounced on my screen message after message with her horrendous texting grammar.

┃Look

┃I’m gonna bffr Sis

┃Ur pretty and smart

┃Just like me 🤭

┃U listen too much to mom

┃U work too hard

┃Have fun this year

┃Meet a guy (or girl if ur into that😉)

┃It’s time for some romance in ur boring dull life

I looked up as I heard the door open and a stampede of shoes walk into the classroom to try and get a seat away from people, the professor smiling and welcoming them all to the class and to sit anywhere they pleased, but the class just studied the seats, trying to figure out where to sit and who to sit by. The grilled chicken wrap churned in my stomach at the feeling of all the eyes of my peers on me.

I looked back down at my phone, reading the text choppy strings of text again. She was right, I know she was right. But I’m not going to just push all my hard work aside just for someone who I’m not even sure I’ll end up with. My thumbs dance across the screen in a rush to respond- something to show her that I’ll take it into consideration but it’s not definite- as the class is about to start.

I’ll try.┃

As I put my phone away, I heard a chair scrap against the floor of the classroom, a chair that sounded way too close to me for my comfort. I glance beside me to see a bulky man leaning back against the chair, he had Ray-Ban sunglasses that prevented me from seeing his eye color, his head was tilted back and supported by his large hands that were interlaced behind his head and into his dirty blonde locks that were styled, his elbows pointed up and his large muscles on his biceps slightly covering his face. His blue button up shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, the fabric of the shirt that was held closed by the buttons stretching across his broad chest. His legs spread out in a man spread, his knee barely grazes my thigh.

My face turned pale at the slight contact, I quickly pulled my leg away and turned my head. I hear a small chuckle from beside me, from him. I bit my bottom lip and hesitantly turned my head to face him again, his hand pulled down his sunglasses to the bridge of his nose, his sparkling brown eyes staring at me. His lips formed a smirk as he gave me a flirty wink just like the kind a jock would give a cheerleader in a Hallmark movie my mother plays for the cats when she leaves the house.

I scoffed and rolled my eyes before looking in front of me, great, looks like I got stuck next to a guy that can only think with his dick. I’ve encountered a few people like that today, but I was watching from a distance. Looks like it’s my turn to have an interaction with one of the most insufferable types of people that could be on a college campus.

I know it’s not exactly nice to assume that about my seat neighbor, but what happened to “Hi, how are you?”, “My name is blank, what’s yours?“, or any sort of chivalry. I could hear him grumble quietly, disappointed that I didn’t give him the reaction he wanted.

As I looked around the room, I noticed that everyone was sitting side-by-side, but there was enough room for another chair in the middle between each group of two.

“I like the buddy group system.” He says, answering all our silent questions, “I was always a shy kid in school, never wanting to get up and ask for anyone to be my partner for a project. Think of it as useful for when you guys do your peer reviews and projects. If you have an issue with your buddy after the first essay, then you can talk to me about switching, fair?”

The class all mindlessly nodded. Great, now I’m stuck with him until our first essay. I sigh and rest my face in the palm of my hand, my neighbor letting out a small hum in amusement. ‘The buddy peer review system’ was always a pain in my ass in high school. I usually just asked if I could have my sister at home review it, most of my teachers said sure, but others said no. Which is understandable, they wanted me to get out of my comfort zone

“Now, we’re going to do an activity to get to know your partner, that way you guys get to know each other. Maybe you’ll find things you guys have in common, maybe you’ll end up as friends. Don’t be shy.”

He explained, as he placed a paper in front of each student. My shoulders slump, I glanced slightly at my “peer review buddy” to see him smiling playfully, his sunglasses off and his eyes glancing at me as well. As soon as our eyes met, I looked away quickly, he let out another small chuckle.

“Keep staring, princess, looks like you’re not going to get rid of me that easily.”

I try not to roll my eyes and look up at the clock, silently praying that whatever is out there will have mercy on me and speed up the clock, I don’t think I can last the semester without strangling this guy.

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powpowhammer · 1 year

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@blotthis tagged me for ten songs I am vibing with. I confess to having a relationship with music listening that some would call 'lame' as I have basically never built a relationship to an artist or their body of work (except for john themountaingoats darnielle). I blame my boomer father for burning out those receptors in my youth by inadvertently filling my head with the entire beatles discography, leaving no room for me to become a teen who liked music for cultural reasons (I became a ska kid but because of other reasons). sorry I don't have spotify.

yerbatero (2010) - juanes. I am basically always listening to this song.

washington square (2011) - the correspondents. if you look up the music video it's exactly what you think a bunch of nerds into burlesque would make. I think it's good when something is horny but also sopping wet lame about it. this is the number one song I'd sing at karaoke if they had it but they'll never have it.

the rockafeller skank (1998) - fatboy slim. I put on this song on two weeks ago via free association and have been studying it ever since, mostly for its use of sample as instrumentation. (I went and also listened to all its samplees, too.) two things about this: 1) crit about this alludes to the existence to a uk-based genre called 'big beat' but all the writing about big beat just refers back to fatboy slim. cycle of internet ouroboros complete. 2) I imprinted heavily on the digimon the movie soundtrack.

careful with that hat! (2009? 2010?) - citay

the story in your eyes (1971) - the moody blues. ethan has a horrible tendency to fixate on the phrase 'from the ashes of the old' when we discuss reform versus revolution and every time he does I have to put this on. and then bap him with a newspaper

communication with the dead (2013?) - unclear. I think I would be much more into gabber than I am if I had had more freedom (financial, personal) as a young person. this song was made available for free but the links are defunct. if you want it in 320 message me

acid disco homegirls (2015) - the hair kid. I spend a lot of time on soundcloud but am deliberately not including here all the 45-second-to-three-minute soundclowns I love to accumulate because I respect my followers' time.

cadaver sniffing dog (2019) - the mountain goats. this is my favorite song from this album. I saw him on tour when he was debuting this material. the concert went on for twenty years. man simply has insane stamina

extremely online (2019) - mc frontalot. noone told me that he had an album out after question bedtime until like january this year. what the fuck. damian I love you

call ticketron (2016) - rtj. I was gonna put legend has it and then I was like. well we just had that echolalia post and the cadence of the live from the garden sample has definitely invaded my phonobulary

bonus - current work loop

let's tag some mutuals! some mutuals blot didn't already tag. mutuals who only have a normal amount of emotions about ace attorney. mutuals who love, and dream, and kill. @literallymechanical @waywardking @blasphemous-lies-and-deceit @relia-robot @falindrith @efortmanteau

#now all of china knows I'm boring.#music #powstuff #these posts do make me happy because they remind me of old internet. we are having a fun time filling out our deviantart journals.#eating: rice bowl drinking: coffee listening to: etc etc #oh pretend walter reed is on this list. embarrassing to put it here during the great 2023 house md renaissance but i do own the house md os #and put it on all the time.#also I take it back what I said at the top of the post. john themountaingoats darnielle and damian mcfrontalot hess.

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adultswim2021 · 11 months

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Robot Chicken: Star Wars Episode II | November 16, 2008 - 11:30PM | Special

Time for more re-re comedy for gay nerds. Hey--HEY! That wasn’t very nice. Don’t say stuff like that! Okay. I am sorry. I forgive you. Thanks.

Robot Chicken Star Wars! It’s one of my least favorite things. I ain’t never seen this stuff, and I wish I didn’t decide I had to watch it for a blog that no one reads. I wonder if I will do an exhaustive breakdown of each sketch? Um… HOW ABOUT NO. This shit sucks and just because it’s segmented doesn’t mean I have to be! Segmented, I mean.

Okay, so here’s what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna rank my top three and bottom three sketches. This is going to be very hard, because I don’t like any of them, really. And, because I don’t like any of them, really, I will likely just be picking stuff borderline at random. Also, I skipped over some real short ones for consideration cuz who cares. Here, both lists are worst to best.

BOTTOM THREE (WORST TO LEAST-WORST)

Luke's Lack of Perspective. This is the one where Leia scolds Luke for being sad about Obi-wan dying because her whole planet was vaporized. The premise is lame, and also they cast the real Carrie Fisher, who has old lady voice and sounds nothing like her younger self. You can tell they pitched her up a little to try and make up for it. It’s just distracting, and the sketch isn’t even worth recasting.

AT-AT Drag Race. I couldn’t even really make much sense of this one. There’s a weird edit in it that I remember thinking implied that it was a dream? Which it wasn’t, obviously, it just was edited awkwardly and the joke is just “wouldn’t it be funny if guys raced AT-ATs?" and who gives a fuck. I did like the visual of the AT-AT clicking it’s heels, though.

Going Out Like a Punk. This is the one where Uhh. I forgot his name, no really. I almost typed “Cowboy Bebop.” The bounty hunter guy that everyone loves just because he has a cool name that I forget what it even is. Bop-Bop Peranu, I think it is. Anyway, he’s in the Sarlac pit (I remembered that no prob) and talking about how he didn’t go out like a chump. This one seems like it’s aimed squarely at annoying dorks who think they’re clever for making the same observation. I watch television to get away from shitheads like this! Cartoons, mostly, but still!

[EVERY OTHER SKETCH IS TIED FOR THE MIDDLE]

TOP THREE (WORST TO FIRST)

Palpatine's Trip. Depicting Palpatine's annoying travels to the Deathstar, paralleling the annoyances of regular Earthly air travel. He gets annoyed by the chair placement in the throne room, and as indignities mount he says, to some one, “here, watch me tempt fate. (mock exasperation) could this day get any worse? (casually) I think I’m safe, because I said that ironically.” The punchline is he gets tossed by Vader, like at the end of Star Wars: The Last Crusade. I just really like the tempting fate/irony joke!

Anakin's Happy Place. Decent premise depicting Anakin slaying children at the end of Episode III. It's the darkest scene in all of Star Wars, and I was fine with what they did with it here. The joke at the end is a little dumb, but it’s fine. It’s Robot Chicken.

Mouse Droid. My favorite, because I could imagine making a fan-edit of the original Star Wars with zero changes except you add the insert shots of the little mouse guy driving the droid. I like when mice drive stuff. That's basically the only reason I liked this.

This has an “extended” version available, but I just watched the version on HBOMax. This is probably worse than the first special, but I don’t want to think about it too long. All of these sketches are dumb as shit and for dorks, which I DEFINITELY am not one of. Go to hell!

EPHEMERA CORNER

Clerks: The Animated Series (November 14, 2008 - 11:00PM)

This could very easily be a whole goddamn thing. It will probably be longer than other EPHEMERA CORNERs, but I’ll still try to be concise. Clerks the Animated Series was an animated spin-off of Clerks, the scrappy, vulgar, independent comedy from Kevin Smith. It’s cult success lead to him inexplicably having a career, including two direct movie sequels to clerks. This cartoon only lasted six episodes, two of which aired on ABC. They came out on DVD shortly after, with a racist audio commentary track for every episode.

I literally taped the Super Bowl because a website reported that the Clerks Cartoon was going to get a commercial during it. I diligently taped the two episodes that did air. ABC decided to air the fourth episode, which was a parody of courtroom dramas (and had a very funny non-sequitur ending allegedly completed by the Korean animators without any input from the American writers). After that they decided to air the second episode, which heavily referenced the first episode. It’s main concept was that it was a clip show, and Dante and Randal spent a significant portion of the episode flashing back only to the first episode, which hadn’t actually aired.

The show was a fairly typical animated comedy of it’s time. The vulgarity was tamped down in favor of absurdist gags and cultural references. Mostly, it worked. There were some really funny ideas, and the commentary tracks had some really fun tidbits about planned episodes that never happened. Honestly, if I weren’t already privy to the doomed nature of the show, or we lived in the alternate dimension where this was allowed to continue for multiple seasons, I would probably aspire to write for this thing. With a few exceptions, the humor was even more on my wavelength than Kevin Smith’s movies.

Weirdly, I don’t think I ever actually watched this show on Adult Swim. I remembered it as a Comedy Central acquisition. When Adult Swim first aired, I really admired the fact that one could watch Fox’s Sunday Night cartoon line-up, switch to Adult Swim, and then when Adult Swim was over you could switch to Comedy Central and watch reruns of South Park, Duckman, and this. It was a real special time to have cable. Hot damn.

I really do wish this lasted longer. Deserved at least half the success of Family Guy. In my ideal world, this show takes off and Kevin Smith stops making movies. He only revisits the "canon" View Askewinverse in occasional comic book mini-series. You ever read his comics? His writing style comes off better in those, I think.

PLEDGE: The currently-ignored Adult Swim 2022 blog will return on some kind of non-daily schedule. I’ll finish out Baby Blues, and then do this. Happy, KON??

MAIL BAG

Time for some mail. Good lord.

you gotten the adult swim 2021 group dm all riled up about xtacles. are you gonna do anything to fan these flames???

I dropped some bombs Hulk style, and things seem to be under control. You are right, they were out of line and it pissed me off!

dino and scott are excellent as mr burns would say. i forgive anything in their problematic past as long as they become the banner, ta ta for now

Despite the fact that one of them was nice to me once, and the other one made out with my friend (which is arguably also nice), I simply can’t. I like racist stuff, so I’m keeping the Minor Guys or whatever that show was called. Bye!

cahpo

so far it seems the only shows you like are space ghost, assy mcgee, and xtacles. i guess venture bros and morel orel made you cry, if that's a good thing. Anyway, just a like observation from this looky loo. Bye!

It is sorta fucked up that a TV show can make people cry. Should be illegal. But, hey, look out for the end of the year when I rerank all the Adult Swim shows. BYE!

and we say bye bye now

Bye bye!

Goodbye.

#adult swim #adultswim2021 #robot chicken

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anhed-nia · 2 years

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BLOGTOBER 10/26/2022: TERRIFIER 2 (and various other TERRIFIERS)

I've been trying to wrap my head around the Art the Clown phenomenon for a minute now, and I may be developing a kind of begrudging respect for it, but I still don't know if I really get it. The thing that keeps me from dismissing it outright as just a bunch of edgelord nonsense is that even at their worst, these movies seem like a ton of work to make, featuring elaborate gore gags that would be a huge pain in the ass for a small, independent crew to create. On their tiny budgetary scale, movies like ALL HALLOW'S EVE and TERRIFIER 1 & 2 really have to run on love and desire, which I think are the most important ingredients in any production. What I struggle with is the everything-else part: I'm not sure these movies are motivated by anything other than the urge to offend, which is kind of lame when it stands alone. The best thing about them for me, personally, is that they challenge me to question if I really am offended by them for reasons other than their prurient nature—and if so, how and why.

The Art the Clown trilogy is less like a collection of three movies starring a central character, and more like a single movie that has been gestating over the course of three releases. TERRIFIER 2 is inarguably the most creative and mature (am I really saying this?) of the three, amalgamating choice elements of its two predecessors into something that is more like a "real movie" and less like an excuse to try out a bunch of fucked-up ideas. And I don't mean to shit on the idea of making a movie as a sandbox for special effects; people have been doing that from the earliest origins of the horror genre. But, there's something a little different about modern projects that should benefit from the films that have gone before. I find it hard not to judge movies a little more harshly if they've come out during my own lifetime. I assume that those filmmakers know what I know, and I might expect them to use that knowledge a certain way.

When Joe Bob Briggs ran John Carpenter's HALLOWEEN on The Last Drive-In, he remarked (approximately) that it was the first time a violent slasher movie starred a psychopath, where audiences didn't have to worry that the film itself was made BY psychopaths, unlike the gnarlier material that circulated in the Times Square grindhouses of the 1970s. HALLOWEEN was obviously made by UCLA-trained professionals with mainstream aspirations, and if it suffered from accusations of misogyny and sadism, this was because it was being compared to more mainstream fare by people who saw it in suburban theaters; those critics didn't have the context of the world's many LAST HOUSEs (ON THE LEFT, or ON DEAD END STREET, or wherever), movies made by former pornographers and angry young men whose main motivation, besides making a quick and dirty buck, was just to be extremely antisocial. As a modern viewer, when I watch something like HOUSE ON THE EDGE OF THE PARK, I understand that it comes from a different universe than the one I live in; it's darker, more desperate, forged by different historical and socioeconomic forces, and I relish the opportunity to delve into that psycho-social space without being directly subjected to the grim reality from whence it came. It's all sort of academic for me. Nowadays, people who make really antisocial movies are all nerds; their movies tend to be an act of fandom, and even if they're trying to one-up young Sam Raimi or Peter Jackson in the fucked-uppedness department, you can tell where they're coming from culturally. You don't have to risk life and limb to see their movies in the woebegone grindhouses of yesteryear, and if you've even heard of them, you're probably a nerd, too. All this can make these productions less threatening and more familiar, regardless of how demented their content is.

As a brief aside, though: Apparently there are reports going around of people vomiting and fainting in theatrical audiences for TERRIFIER 2, and who knows if that's true or just an exciting rumor, but it's astounding to me that A) a movie like this is playing in the kinds of theaters that serve vulnerable normie viewers to begin with, and b) the rumor of this visceral audience response has been repeated in USA Today. I mean when I was growing up, if something like EVIL DEAD or DEAD ALIVE turned up in an extremely mainstream publication, it would be because of the Satanic Panic, it would be because the 700 Club was going after it or something. And in my mind, the TERRIFIER series is in a sub-basement way beneath the level of EVIL DEAD; it's from a grimy, underground place that's barely even connected to the world where fans of SCREAM or Chucky live. The fact that it's in movie theaters when fewer and fewer films are getting theatrical releases at all is wild enough to me, but a spotlight in USA Today is way, way beyond my comprehension. It's like if Olaf Ittenbach's BURNING MOON were reviewed by Leonard Maltin. I almost love that this is happening. It's like, am I on another planet?

Anyway.

Where was I?

Oh yeah, whether it's fair or not, I tend to hold modern creators of "fucked up" movies to a different standard than their predecessors. I think the new kids can be accused of lacking the innocence of the exploitation artists of previous decades. Someone like Herschell Gordon Lewis would have been aware of the rising tide of social change, but he wasn't raised with political correctness as the norm; he was an entrepreneur who knew that the then-new splatter subgenre would be a must-see novelty for contemporary audiences. And, on some level, misogynistic anger was ordinary and unquestioned. On the other hand, when you make a movie in 2016 at the beginning of the Trump era where a crazed killer saws a teenage girl in half vagina-first, it has a different vibe. The ironic pleasure of seeing a really uninhibited film from a more ignorant era is nowhere to be found, and you have to ask yourself: What the fuck is this movie's problem?

To be really, really clear, I don't think that media should be constrained to saying whatever we think is good for society in real life. I think artists have as much right to say whatever they want, as audiences have to criticize it as harshly as they like, or to simply change the channel. (I'd put a boundary on this only where we're talking about out in the open political propaganda whose obvious motivation is a call to action, but fortunately, that's not what I'm dealing with in this piece) There is no level on which I'm suggesting that filmmaker Damien Leone shouldn't be doing what he does, and in our intensely moralizing cultural moment, I hope that nothing I say about his movies is taken as a recommendation to censure him. I just find it impossible to talk about his invention of Art the Clown without addressing the extreme, misogynistic hostility that pours out of these projects. It's probably reasonable to assume that creators of this ilk stage gonzo attacks on female victims out of an affectionate nostalgia for films like MANIAC and THE TOOLBOX MURDERS that so worried second wave feminists. In the case of the TERRIFIER movies, though, one might feel like they push things past the point of homage and into what can come off as a real love of the thought of chopping up girls.

Damien Leone's 2013 anthology film ALL HALLOW'S EVE is best known as a container for his 2011 short TERRIFIER, in which a young, horror-loving costume designer is tormented by the silent, psychotic Art the Clown. In that segment, after decorating a gas station bathroom with his own excretia, Art hounds the young woman, whipping her with a scourge made out of all sorts of sharp objects, and eventually amputating her limbs and carving slurs like SLUT and CUNT all over what remains of her body. Some of these images made their way into the feature version of TERRIFIER five years later, though notably not the latter bit, which—and I know this is going to make me sound insane considering the context—is just really unnecessary. Art the Clown functions best as a chaos agent who dismantles everyone and everything in his way purely for his own amusement, so there's something off about him focusing on a hatred of attractive young women specifically. You kind of want Art to be like a slasher movie version of Bugs Bunny; when he expresses this incel obsession with women as sources of sexual frustration, it's limiting and distracting. It feels like something the movie insists on to its own detriment…and like, why?

2016's TERRIFIER may have disposed of the idea of vandalizing a woman's body with "whore"-type epithets, but it sticks with the notion of targeting attractive girls and taking away their beauty to punish them. Sure, there are a few male victims in this movie, but who could possibly remember them when the movie's centerpiece is a nude teenage girl who Art bisects with a hacksaw, beginning at her crotch? The doomed men don't quite get the same gender-specific treatment as a bag lady whose severed breasts Art parades around in, or the girl whose face Art eats, leaving her as a circus freak version of herself whose outrageous ugliness drives her insane. TERRIFIER moves so single-mindedly from one gore gag to another, without anything resembling character or plot development, that it's hard not to focus on the rather specific spectacle of violence against women and their femininity.

By comparison, 2022's TERRIFIER 2 is a masterpiece of dramaturgy. Sure, it takes almost two and a half hours to make its point (?!), but this movie has distinct characters, a story, and more experimentation to offer than its predecessors. Interestingly, it also represents a culmination of all of Damien Leone's creative work. All three have an opening salvo that involves a bunch of literal shit, a cat o' nine tails scene, and the idea of women losing their minds when they lose their attractiveness. TERRIFIER 2 also brings the realization of failed plans Leone had for his first short, THE 9TH CIRCLE, which was originally meant to involve an angel figure battling Art the Clown. Finally, the latest film blows up a detail from the least of the three components of ALL HALLOW'S EVE, and makes it a central piece of the puzzle: The middle section of the anthology features a woman being terrorized by an alien invader, but a stray piece of that story is that her absent husband makes disturbing paintings featuring Art. That's a loose thread in ALL HALLOW'S, but in TERRIFIER 2 it becomes the key to the protagonist's destiny. I may not love these movies, but I respect Leone's long-term focus, and it has brought him a long way from his humbler origins.

TERRIFIER 2 finds aspiring costume designer Sienna (the very appealing Lauren LaVera) painstakingly assembling a She-Ra-like Halloween costume based on her late father's designs. Sienna and her little brother Jonathan (Elliott Fullam) have both inherited his interest in dark fantasy, but where Sienna channels it into productively chasing after her career goals, Jonathan is haunted by their father's visions. He pores over an old sketch book containing images suggestive of the Miles County Massacre that took place in the first TERRIFIER film, and plans to go as Art the Clown for Halloween. Sienna and their mother Barbara (Sarah Voigt) worry that Jonathan is a burgeoning psycho, but we see him as a sensitive young man who his ambivalently drawn to what frightens him—a relatable characteristic for any horror fan—and moreover, these images are all he has left of his dad, who committed suicide after a battle with brain cancer. The family speculates that their patriarch's disturbing visions resulted from his tumor, but both Sienna and Jonathan suffer similarly: while Jonathan fixates helplessly on Art, Sienna has disturbing nightmares about the clown, and is already being medicated for psychological issues. Art (David Howard Thornton who, let's face it, makes these movies), meanwhile, is having his own familial experience with a new character credited as the Little Pale Girl (Amelie McLain), a psychotic tot made in Art's image who accompanies him on his new killing spree. Only Sienna and Jonathan can see the Pale Girl, suggesting that she is the product of whatever supernatural force resurrected Art at the end of the first TERRIFIER film; furthermore, it becomes clear that Jonathan and Sienna's father was not deranged by illness, but he had actually channeled a vision of how his children could put a stop to the clown's rampage.

Whether or not this story achieves real coherence is beside the point, which I posit is about how you channel your id material. The kids' father was tormented by it unto death; Art and his daughter (?) enjoy it shamelessly; Jonathan tries to understand what scares him; Sienna makes herself into an avenging angel that can defeat it. It's an interesting meditation for a series of movies that appear to be all about pure aggression and the pleasure of stirring people up. After fifteen years of hard work, Damien Leone has refined his vision into an essay on the faces of horror fandom: Many people are happy to accuse horror fans of psychopathy, ignoring the fact that fans are often sensitive types who use the genre to safely explore difficult feelings and experiences. Sure, some of us turn into assholes, but others find paths that are creative and productive, not destructive. And this is how, after hours of sometimes-painful viewing and chewing, I have somehow found my way to finding something nice to say about the TERRIFIER series. I may not have enjoyed it, but I came to respect it (or at least, the incredible work ethic required to get it done), and I think maybe I finally get it. Still and all, I'm glad I can finally stop watching it. Onto the next!

#blogtober #blogtober 2022 #terrifier #terrifier 2 #all hallow's eve #anthology #horror #slasher #supernatural #killer clown #damien leone #lauren lavera #elliott fullam #Amelie McLain #sarah voigt #David Howard Thornton

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miyamorana · 1 year

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March Fanfic Recs

Here are the fics that I’ve really liked this month. All of these are complete. Enjoy!

Fandoms: Boku no Hero Academia (5), Merlin (1), Sk8 the Infinity (1), Teen Wolf (1)

Find February’s Recs here or browse my fanfic recs tag.

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia Title: Sparkling Friendship✨ Author: Emily_Elizabeth_Fowl Pairing: Aizawa Shouta/Yamada Hizashi Rating: General Word Count: 11,839 Summary: One raised brow later, Shouta remembered there was a question he was supposed to answer. He muttered something, hoping Hizashi would let it go. “And now with words this time?” Hizashi said a small smirk dancing on his lips, and Shouta huffed. “I said there wasn’t a guy,” he didn’t, but this was close enough. “I just-” What was he supposed to say? Got distracted because I saw you through the window during my nightly pass by your apartment and I was overcome by the need to feel how soft your hair were ? “...Got distracted,” he finished lamely, keeping the rest of that explanation to himself. “By what?” Hizashi sounded incredulous, tilting his head slightly, another strand of hair falling onto his face. *** Or: 5 times Shouta thought Hizashi and him were dating, and the one time they actually were

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia Title: Loser, Forsaker, Mover, Shaker Author: jukoist Pairing: Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto (minor) Rating: Teen Word Count: 25,278 Summary: “So you and Bakugou… You were never exes? You really were just friends?” “Well, I was Kacchan’s friend. He was my bully.” Midoriya gets hit by a truth Quirk, and his past relationship with Bakugou comes to light. Midoriya learns what it means to have people on his side; Bakugou learns what it means to face his mistakes head on. Dredging up the past is dirty, and painful, but it’s necessary if you want to heal. AKA Protective 1-A, Hurt Midoriya, and Bakugou/Consequences.

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia Title: Fun At Hero Con Author: wolfsrainrules Pairing: None Rating: Unrated Word Count: 3,627 Summary: Midoriya Izuku is still the biggest hero nerd to walk the earth and not even being Number One is going to change that. Now if only he could remember to tell his fans that he is Pro Hero Deku.

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia Title: The Toes Show Author: RayShippouUchiha Pairing: None Rating: General Word Count: 1,657 Summary: By this point, Izuku feels confident in saying that there’s very little online he hasn’t seen or at least heard of in some shape or form. So Izuku knows that if he digs deep enough there’s got to be some kind of job online he can take that won’t care that he’s young and quirkless. All Izuku has to do is find it. ~~~ Come to find out Izuku doesn’t have to dig all that deep after all. Even if the job he ends up with is far from … conventional.

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia Title: Keep You To Myself Author: RayShippouUchiha Pairing: Aizawa Shouta/Midoriya Izuku Rating: Mature Word Count: 9,192 Summary: And yet the truth is that Shōta knows himself, has grown to know Izuku, well enough to know that what they’re doing, what’s between them, it’s not friendship. Or, at least, it’s not only friendship. Not on either of their sides. Friends don’t have this kind of tension practically seething between them. Friends don’t harbor this kind of underlying burn smoldering away beneath every word exchanged or this electric sort of charge coursing through every accidental touch.

Fandom: Merlin Title: Theory / Practice Author: queerofthedagger Pairing: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon Rating: Teen Word Count: 1,000 Summary: He had known in the same way that he had looked at Merlin on that first day in the market square, his clever mouth and dusk-sky eyes, and somehow knew him.Familiarity. His magic feels like that, too.

Fandom: Sk8 the Infinity Title: Serious Author: benicemurphy Pairing: Hasegawa Langa/Shindo Ainosuke Rating: Teen Word Count: 3,007 Summary: Nanako comes home early from a trip and is very surprised by what she finds there.

Fandom: Teen Wolf Title: Next Thursday Author: wldnst Pairing: Danny Māhealani/Stiles Stilinski Rating: Teen Word Count: 18,210 Summary: In which Stiles Stilinski has a werewolf for a best friend, a support group for that, hot chocolate with Lydia Martin and Danny Mahealani every Thursday evening, and an extremely anticlimactic coming out experience.

#fanfiction #fanfic recs #boku no hero acedamia #my hero acadamy #bnha #erasermic #tododeku #eraserdeku #merlin #merthur #sk8 the infinity #sk8 #endensk8 #teen wolf #stanny

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violetsystems · 11 months

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The entirety of my Facebook data deletes tomorrow. They make you wait a month and I'm sure some shadow government agency can still look at your travel photos and how many times you shopped at H&M. At least I'm part Swedish. People out here love throwing capitalism from where you are supposedly from four generations back in your face and claiming that's your culture. No honey that's your shopping bag. Don't you like furniture? Don't you want a ride in my Volvo? I'm Croatian and German too and honestly I can't stand October fest or Titoism. My culture is making the CEO of Costco step down because his store is harboring a secret labor revolution. Who cares about the price of the hot dog? I'm not even forklift certified but I do like to fork myself. What's more American than terrorism? Masturbation? Blaming terrorism on the "other team" instead of actual diplomacy is kind of masturbatory logic for a sports fan. I'm not even going there in that argument because I'm supposed to stick with my culture. I'm protestant and they hit an Episcopalian hospital so there's layers there for sure. Especially on a block with bishops. But I should stick with arguments I know right? Swedish meatballs and easily assembled furniture. How Feng Shui of me? But I will say some people out here need to find themselves and leave God alone. I was in a car crash too. Can I blame Denny's? Or Michael Flatley's river dance because I was a greeter at the WTTW store of knowledge in Orland Square mall and had to watch that shit on loop playing with devil sticks. That won't fit on my resume. If you are on a need to know basis about my life out there in LA? Ask Facebook. You have one more day. Whatever two bit drunk ass punk rock sleeper cell I'm connected to on there by accident is less American than I want to be. I was actually a nerd in high school. I don't need to be reminded of how lame people turned in their forties. Communicating with inspirational memes on instagram because Tumblr won't market your dj career. You want to be linked to a hate crime because of a shopping bag that's about as America as it gets. I don't need Facebook to help you. This hellsite is bad enough. You are programmed to fight each other for something you don't even understand or have any control over because you hate yourself. I'm sorry I love me. Were you hurt as a child? Did Linkedin ask you about childhood trauma in the job search that goes absolutely nowhere? Are you going to cry about in a forum somewhere? Mind your own business and keep your commentary about my skin tone to yourself. You are lucky I spell it out for you. Go back to college and learn some reading comprehension. If all you understand is crackhead numerology then maybe take a look at your country's deficit instead of communicating dumb shit to me. We're all broke. At least I am not morally bankrupt. Talk is cheap. Blaming the victim is classless. MF’s out here spend more on hair bleach than student loans.

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m-s-knarp · 1 year

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I'm the coolest motherfucker on the team.

Okay, sure, it's not too high of a bar to cross when by "team" you mean "group of six 6th graders huddled on one side of the chess club room to finish their assigned task of designing a chess set". Still. Objectively, anyone who knows me would say the same.

I've got it all: ✓ I swear (see: first line). ✓ I raise my middle finger at my parents when they piss me off. (They're usually already walking away, so they never get to see it in time.) ✓ I wear dark clothes. (Yeah, I'm a girl, and I HATE pink!) ✓ I have friends on the internet. (Most people I know don't even have computers.) ✓ I have the brawns. (I'm really good at table tennis. I just don't like playing other sports, but I'd probably be really good too.) ✓ I have the brains. (As you've astutely observed, I'm in the chess club. AND I used an 8th grade word.) ✓ And most importantly, I don't care what anyone thinks.

I mean, I'm basically perfect.

So when Polly -- the only other girl in the circle we've formed around our pile of construction paper, glue, and glitter -- is this slow, ignorant, childish, and, well, honestly average-looking at best girly girl, but still having everyone fawn over her…

Lame. I subconsciously make a face at her as she carefully slides the glue stick over a purple square one of the boys cut from our pack of multicolored paper. She glances up at me for a moment, looks down, and back at me again. I can't blame her, I mean I'm--

"Hehe," Polly puts a fist over her lips and giggles.

As the other members in our group turn their heads toward me, I realize my face is contorted in a way that's simply uncool.

10 milliseconds in, I think: "Shit."

Another 30 milliseconds after: my face goes back to resting position.

The remaining 20 milliseconds before a second has passed: "Alright. I'm fast. I'm safe."

I was not fast. I was not safe.

One of the boys snorted when he saw my expression.

"Hey, it's one of them tengu masks we saw in class the other day!" He so very kindly commented.

Great. This bitch. But I can't let them see I'm fazed. I'm not. I'm cool, after all.

"Shut up!" I snapped at the boy. There was a slight crack, both in my voice and in between my lips, as a little bit of dribble escaped my mouth and landed on my knee. It's over.

I quickly wiped it away with my black hoodie sleeve, but once again I was too slow, evidently, as another boy started wheezing. Maybe today's just not my day, but even if I conclude the situation like a mature adult in my head, my heart just continued pumping blood into my face faster. Fuck tengus, and fuck the teacher who decided eastern culture was something we needed to learn about. (I don't actually mean it. Anime is SO awesome. Too bad it's too cool for anyone in this city.)

I stood up and walked away, but not without saying my signature phrase.

"Wh-- Whatever."

Nailed it. Barely.

I sat in the bathroom stall, waiting for time to pass by. I'm not returning to that ugly nerd den. My mom didn't let me get a touchscreen phone yet, so I took my blue pen out of my pocket and started scribbling on my arm.

I forgot to mention that I'm artistic too. You can tell because I can draw eyes that look pretty much realistic. Like I said, total package.

I was halfway into drawing 4 stickmen about to have an epic spear battle when I heard the main bathroom door open and creak shut.

"Lizzy?" A dumb sweet voice called out. Idiot. Stupid. God, I hate her.

I stay quiet for a second, but I realize how embarrassed I might look if she found out I was here and just didn't respond. Fine. You want to play this game. I assure you, you can't make me look more moronic than you. My heart beats a little quicker as I reach for the lock to slide it open.

"It's Eli, dumbass," I said, opening the stall door and reemerging from the shadows cast by the walls. "No one calls me that."

If anyone else saw me just then, they'd forget all about the dumpster fire mess from earlier and start wondering again what color the motorcycle I most likely have is. (It would be black with red flames, of course.)

When I looked down at this short, meek, and rabbit-resembling girl, she shook. Tears had obviously already began to form in her eyes at just the thought of being in my presence. Yeah, that's right, I'm a terrifying force. Don't fuck with me.

Yet the tengu comparisons would die out by now, very quickly, as my face turned from dark red to pale peach. Why is she crying? I don't wanna get in trouble with the teachers.

"Sorry," she started, and then looked down. She was clearly choosing her next words very carefully. "I also want to apologize for earlier. I thought you were trying to make me laugh to trip me up."

She started picking at one of her perfectly manicured nails. "It worked."

Yeah, right. She's always been graceful, talented, and neat. Even if it was my intention, which unfortunately it wasn't, it wouldn't have done jack shit. Or would have done? I've gotta Google how to use that phrase later.

I snap out of it and look at her again. "Whatever."

Polly quickly jolts her head up again and locks her widened eyes with me.

"Wait, did you draw that?" She points at one of the scribbles on my arm. It's a simple drawing of Reborn from hit anime series, "Katekyou Hitman Reborn!" which means "Hitman Tutor Reborn". I think. That's what the comment on Part 3 of Episode 2 on Youtube said. And then he said something in Spanish.

"Yeah, it's from this anime," I smirked. "You've probably never heard of anime before." Honestly, for a moment, I felt excited, it sounded like she recognized it, but…what are the odds. Ah, there's the familiar pang. Even if I show her even just a screenshot of the anime, she's gonna call it a cartoon and go back to her perfect little bubble. The disrespect.

"Are you talking about Reborn?"

…

I searched her face for any indication of a prank. Or a single lie. Her? Is this really possible?

Yes. She's for real.

For nearly 2 years, I could talk to only my online BFFs on Facebook and Skype about my favorite anime. I had no one to talk about the newest seasonal series or use -chan with. Not even someone to eat cup noodles and pretend to be Naruto with. All of a sudden, here's someone I can talk to about senpais, cherry blossoms, and beautiful moons.

Alright.

Fine.

I give in.

Whatever.

Maybe she's a little cool after all.

#m.s.k. to mission control #writeblr #creative writing #short story #fiction #writers on tumblr

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josbigfatenglishproject · 2 years

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Promoting vulgarity by teaching slang in the classroom

We’re still on the topic of teaching, so here’s another little learning article for ya.

In this article, David A. Fein is explaining the reasons a teacher should teach slang in different languages. Very early on in the paper, he makes an active decision to exclude obscenities entirely by explaining that students will find those words in their own personal cultural immersion.

This paper has more to do with cultural immersion and the importance of learning a language both inside and outside of the classroom and how useful it is to merge those experiences and teach informal speech when teaching a second language. That’s all fine and dandy, but what about cussin’ and spittin’ and fightin’?

Good question. Here’s a good answer:

This article is displaying the concept of circumstance in relation to obscenity. Obscenity is all about time, place, and context. We use words that are more offensive when it is appropriate to do so and what Fein is saying here is that the classroom just is not the place to get obscene. It’s a distraction from learning the really important stuff about a language because let’s face it, even though obscenity is incredibly powerful and can be a shared trait amongst any community or culture, it’s still the butt of the joke. Learning can’t be all jokes. You have to actually learn some of the lame stuff because unfortunately, the lame stuff is usually really important. Obscenity is just fundamentally, not lame enough to be taught. :’(

BUT I don’t think it’s fair to ban all obscenity from any classroom. I think that if you as a teacher are truly concerned with the way your students use language and how much they swear, you should take the approach of empathy like I have said in previous posts. Analyze with them the heart of those swear words and why they probably shouldn’t curse in the classroom. Don’t be a square and avoid the subject. Fucking nerd.

#aw hell it's the ninth post to my English project #writing

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itsrapsodia · 3 years

Note

I support and validate all retired old man Vesemir but also: old man Peak Witcher Vesemir that still goes around kicking ass and showing up his sons, but he does it in a really old fashioned and embarrassing way.

Lambert wanders into a town hoping for a contract, sees Vesemir’s stupid ceremonial hat that he wears whenever he collects his coin bobbing through the square, and makes a 180 back out because GODS his dad is so LAME. Eskel bumps into Vesemir near Velen and gets scolded for not having his armour shined and his horse’s mane isn’t properly braided in the Wolf School manor and the whole time Eskel has medieval wii music playing praying for this to end. Geralt’s the only one who likes working with Vesemir because he’s a huge nerd and remembers wanting to be a knight and digs all these dumb traditions.

YES anon I love this so much

I love Lambert and Eskel being so embarrassed, and if Lambert HAS to talk to Vesemir it tends to be pretty short because they WILL get in an argument without the others there to interfere.

But Geralt looks up to Vesemir!! And despite having done this for so many years, whenever they work together he's just

picking up all the tricks and knowledge he can from seeing him in action.

#geralt IS a huge nerd #his brain is full of monster facts and potions and gwent #i love him #ask #my art

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campyvillain · 2 years

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tumblr gives you people the ability to show whatever post you want to a mass number of random people for like a few bucks and you nerds use that power to try to be like “this is your sign to become catholic 😊✌️” instead of like. dinosaurs. skulls. skeletons. to a hundred people. you’re all lame as fuck. seriously get familiar with ghouling it up a bit here because nobody wants to hear a word from someone with a bible reference as their url who paid to have some corny shit on the loser internet version of times square. boss up or die

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hotcoffeetransformation · 3 years

Text

Jason swore loudly and had to resist the urge to throw his controller down, pissed that he kept dying cause of the game's stupid glitches (Also known as own mistakes). Still, he regained his composure, and smiled before saying

"Alright chat, we're gonna finish up this one and then we're gonna move on to another game. There should be a poll on top for what we do next"

Jason was a moderately successfully game streamer, averaging about 200 to 300 viewers a night, entirely based on his wit and skill. He knew for sure that they weren't coming for his looks, given his weedy, thin frame, overly pimpled face and large, nerdy glasses. Still, it was enough for him, and he was happy with the progress that he'd made.

As Jason got himself set up for the next game, he heard a shocking sound from above him. The victory theme from one of his favorite JRPGs was blaring through the speakers, and he came up, staring at the screen in shock. He knew what that sound meant. That meant someone had tipped him one thousand dollars, completely out of nowhere.

He looked in shock at the notification on the stream, seeing that it was from someone named JockBro69, with the simple message "Can't wait to get to know you better, cutie~"

Jason was completely stunned. Not only had someone actually redeemed the donation goal that he set as a joke (That being that whoever was stupid enough to tip 1000 dollars got to have a 15 minute private chat with him), it was also someone that he'd never seen in his chat before.

Thoroughly weirded out, but knowing that he had to honor his commitment, he sent the guy a quick private message.

"Dude, I don't know how to thank you enough! Guess I'll see ya pretty soon!"

With that, he sent the man his private zoom link, and said goodbye to the chat, who were still going wild over this turn of events, before pausing,the stream and hopping over to discord for the call.

Not two seconds after his stream stopped, he got a requested video call on discord from the guy, and he opened it up, giving a second for the video to load, but when it did, he was completely dumbfounded again. He was expecting the mysterious donator to be some fat, sweaty silicon valley nerd with too much and money on his hands, but instead what met him was possibly the hottest man he's ever seen, standing up and looking down at his webcam with a friendly expression.

"Fuck, bro! Its so good to finally fucking meet you, I've been such a big fan for a long time, and this is a really big deal for me~

The man had a deep, rumbling, pleasant voice, that shot straight down Jacob's spine and left him feeling strangely... inadequate. Like the fact that his voice wasn't as smooth or melodic as this guy's was his fault, and he should be ashamed of that fact. Still, this guy was pretty pleasant to look at, Jason had to admit. He wasn't gay, definitely not, but he could acknowledge when another guy simply looked good.

Jason scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, not entirely sure of what he should do or say. Still, this guy spent 1000 dollars on this meeting, so he had to try anyway.

"So, umm.... I see your username is jockbro69... What's your actual name thought? I don't think I've ever seen you in chat before..."

The other man actually laughed at this, before looking confused and saying

"What are you talking about bro? Its me, Ethan! I'm in your chat all the time! Man, I guess what they say about playing games so much is true, huh?"

At this statement, Jason actually went pale with shock. THIS was Ethan? This was the guy who's username used to be runningLink? Who was an active fan of the zelda series, constantly begged Jason to play them, and bemoaned the fact that no would date him? It just didn't seem right...

Still, Jason, ever the semi professional, continued on, pretending that he wasn't shocked at the news.

"Well, thanks for supporting me so much! Seriously, this means a lot to me... Ummm... so I guess tell me some of your favorite things about the channel then!"

The man laughed again, the sound coming out in a slow, dumb chuckle, before saying

"What's my favorite thing? Do I even have to say, bro? Its the amazing piece of eye candy I'm looking at right now. You're super hot, bro~"

At this, Jason was shocked, but he chuckled awkwardly while blushing, and said

"Really? I don't think I've ever heard a single person say that before. I guess I consider myself slightly below average..."

The guy looked confused at that, before pressing on

"Really, bro? You look super hot to me, you got those bright, blinding blue eyes that you can just get lost in~"

At this point, Jason knew the man was just messing with him. His eyes have always, and will always be a dark, muddy brown, hidden behind his massive frames. Jason was about to respond, when Ethan continued

"Yeah, and you got that super stylish haircut too, really makes you look super masculine~"

Now Jason was REALLY confused. The guy was right, he did always get complements on his eyes, the bright, shocking blue visible and striking even through his huge glasses. But his hair was always a long, unkempt greasy mess.

"Ethan, are you sure you're okay, you're not just seeing things? Cause I don't know what you're talking about"

Ethan ignored the comment, just continuing to press on

"And you've got that hot, manly face, with your strong jaw and amazing profile"

Jason was confused again. Sure, his stylish haircut did help him look much better, but his face had always been pretty androgynous, with hints of baby fat still present in his cheeks. Again, before he could interrupt, Ethan continued,

"And you've got that smooth smooth skin, that hot stubble, that sexy smirk of yours. You're the full package bro~"

Jason laughed at this. Ethan was clearly being way too complementary. Sure his face had a great shape to it, with strong cheekbones and a square jaw, but his skin was still acne marked as hell, his smile was crooked and awkward, and he'd never been able to grow any facial hair, no matter how much he tried.

"I really have no idea what you're talking about Ethan. Sure I've got some good features, but the overall package isn't much to write home about~"

Ethan smirked again, his eyes lighting up with humor, as if he knew something I didn't.

"Nah, bro, you're underselling yourself. Plus, you've got that body~"

"What about my body? I think its pretty average, though I guess I'm a bit on the skinny side..."

Jason looked down at himself, trying to contemplate what Ethan meant. Sure, he'd been blessed with an attractive, manly face, but it didn't change the fact that his body was still below average at best.

"Again, bro! Putting yourself down. You really think those massive logs you have for arms are below average?"

Jason looked down at his skinny arms, and said

"More like logs than twigs man, seriously."

"And what about your legs? You've spent so long working on em, you've got thighs and glutes to kill for~"

Jason laughed again

"I dunno man! Most people say the exact opposite. They say I spend too much time on arms and not enough on my torso and legs. What can I say though? I love having big, beefy arms."

"Of course you do, bro? Who wouldn't? Especially when right in between em, you got your big, pillowy chest, your sexy abs, and your super toned back~"

Jason was seriously starting to wonder if Ethan was on something. Anyone could clearly see from first glance that Jason's body was badly proportioned, his arms and legs being massive from months to years of work, while he neglected his back, pecs and ab muscles. Still, he thought he looked pretty alright honestly.

"And I especially love how you're not only super sexy, you know it and flaunt it~ I don't think I've ever seen you once wear a shirt. The most you'll wear is a necklace, and even then, not like that covers anything, bro~ Only makes you look sexier"

Now here Jason had to disagree. He knew that he had cultivated and developed an amazing body over his years of going to the gym, but that was all for his own personal satisfaction. He never flaunted it unnecessarily, especially not during a stream.

"And I love the fact that you're such a fucking bro, bro. Every other word out of your mouth is bro and dude, you can't go even five minutes without flexing and thinking of fucking, or going to the gym, or hanging out with your other hot bros. We all know that your brain is basically only good for working out and looking hot. No smart's up there. And you've got your deep, sexy voice, too. Makes it even hotter that you're a gay bro, just like me"

Jason HAD to laugh at that. What the guy was saying was just so ridiculous.

"What the hell are you talking about? Look, I know that I like to show off my sexy body a lot, but that doesn't mean I'm some kind of dumb jock. And I'm definitely straight, dude. Don't know why you'd think I'm gay"

Ethan pressed on, completely unabashed by Jason's last comments.

"But you know the best fucking part, bro? Its that power of yours. The fact that any weak ass nerd who looks at you and your huge fucking muscles grows into a hot, dumb bro like us within seconds~"

Jason was busy flexing, staring at his own bicep in awe, as if he was shocked by him impressive he was. He looked up at Ethan blearily, saying

"Sorry, bro, what'd you say? I guess I got a bit fucking distracted. Huhuhu. But who could blame me~"

"Nah, it was nothing bro. You don't need to worry about it. Now should head back to the stream?"

Jason gasped in excitement, having forgotten entirely about the fact that there was a whole stream audience full of lame ass nerds, just ready for him to make as sexy as he and Ethan were.

"You got it bro~ This is gonna be so fucking hot~"

Jason left the call, going back to the stream and restarting, glad to see that a full 300 people were still watching, even through the extended break. The second he turned his camera on, he could see that people were confused for some reason, saying a stranger broke into his house. How stupid could these people be? How did they not recognize him? Still, not like it would matter for long...

"Hey bros! How're we all fucking doing? Welcomes to today's stream..."

He trailed off, looking blankly at the camera, before saying

"You know what? Fuck video games! Who needs them when you can do this~"

And as his pecs bounced and bounced hypnotically, the chat slowly transitioned from messages like "What the fuck is happening?" or "Who is this dumb jock?" to "Fuck, bro! Your pecs look so fucking hot today!" and "Huhuhu, I love making my pecs bounce like Jace's~"

And so the stream continued, Jace showing everyone all the amazing things his body could do, while anyone that was watching, whether they wanted to or not, began to copy him exactly. And as the stream went on, the viewer count rose, and rose, and rose...

#musclegrowth #straight to gay #jockification #himbo tf #jock #muscle

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absolutepokemontrash · 3 years

Text

Kid!MC/Teen!MC Needs someone to go to Parent Teacher Interviews for Them and Guess Who’s Available?

Masterlist

The brothers being bad babysitters/dad figures is something I love very much, I bet you all could already tell that considering the Fic/Headcanon series I have going on. I would just like you all to know that Asmo’s section is based on a true story. Anyhoo~ onto the Headcanons!

Why? Why Him? (Lucifer)

Is MC really dumb, or are they just a kid? No one knows.

Obviously MC asked Lucifer, the only competent one in the house, the most professional, hard-working, controlled-

MC got their things together and gave Lucifer the run down on their teacher(s) before Lucifer got too absorbed in extolling his own virtues in an intense internal monologue.

News flash Lucifer, this isn’t a Shakespeare play, you can’t have a dramatic monologue or soliloquy about how great you think you are

At the actual meeting, if MC is in there, no, MC is not actually in there. Lucifer will speak to the teacher as if MC isn’t there. As someone whose not a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down kind of person, Lucifer expects the teacher to behave the same and not spare MC’s feelings.

Feelings do not deserve to be spared if MC is being a nuisance. No fake-kid/little sibling of his gets to be the class idiot!

If MC’s doing very well academically, he expects to be pointed at projects or tests they’ve done and the grade on it. It really makes him proud to see MC doing well.

Even if they’re not the best academically, if they’re not failing and they’re doing well in other aspects of school, he’s proud.

If MC really struggles in a school environment and just hates it there but they’re still keeping their head above water, they get a head pat of approval.

On the drive home, if MC came with him to the parent teacher interviews and everything went well, he just happens to turn onto the street that has a Baskin Robin’s or something of that caliber.

If they didn’t go, he picks something up on the way back.

No fun treats if MC is being a disruptive little heathen in class, no kid under Lucifer’s care is going to be the class Mammon. Not on his watch.

MC was busily stuffed their face with the treats that were gifted to them. Lucifer had to hold himself back from rolling his eyes at the kid’s blatant disregard for basic table manners when it came to sweets.

“Is everything the teacher said true?” Lucifer asked, MC looked up at him with a smile.

“Yep!”

“Good, good.” Lucifer held out his hand and patted them on the head. “You’re doing well. Keep it up.”

“Geez,” MC mumbled as they continued to stuff their face. “Can you get anymore affectionate?”

“Don’t be sarcastic, MC. It’s uncouth.” Lucifer said sternly. “Besides, I’ll have you know that many people enjoy my headpats. I’m quite affectionate.”

“Really now? Name one person.”

Lucifer opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. He and MC stared each other down, one pair of eyes much more nervous than the other. Spoiler, MC was still calmly eating their treat as they maintained eye contact.

“…Cerberus.”

“If you’re reaching for Cerberus, you’ve already lost.”

…his pride was under attack. Right in front of his desert…

“You’re grounded.”

“Worth it.”

*Rides by on a Skateboard* School is for NERDS (Mammon)

Pff! Stupid human! He’s not goin’ to some lame parent teacher conference-

Wait! What’s with that face?! Ugh… fine. MC’s gone and forced his hand with those damn puppy dog eyes…

Mammon does not dress up for this event, he dresses like he would every day, maybe throw on some designer stuff to let all the parents and teachers know he’s hot shit.

If MC goes with him, he pulls up in his beloved car and takes up two parking spaces (pure evil.). Every parent present already hates him, but at least the other kids there are impressed with MC’s sweet ride. MC would have gained some street cred if Mammon hadn’t managed to trip up the stairs to the classroom in front of everyone.

He’ll act way to casual with the teacher, turning the parent chair backwards and sitting down so he can lean on the seat.

Mammon gets bored crazy quickly while the teacher lists and explains all the stuff the class is learning, so his eyes begin to wander to any and all displays in the classroom. Projects, annoying posters, class pet, anything is more interesting than this teacher’s explanation.

When MC finally becomes the main topic of the interview, he’s all ears. MC’s doing great in school academically? Ha! Nerd! Maybe giving MC a playful noogie and interrupting the whole interview wasn’t a good idea, but whatever.

If MC’s failing anything, or just isn’t that gifted when it comes to grades, it’s very much a “Aw man me too” from Mammon.

This teacher is speaking with the Great Mammon, the first demon in RAD’s history to fail three semesters in a row. If this teacher thinks bad grades will phase him, they’re dead wrong.

Grades don’t mean anythin’ about smarts anyway! I mean, look at him! He’s a fuckin’ genius but he can’t get through a history test without sobbing even though he LIVED THROUGH MOST OF IT.

MC gets treats no matter what’s up in class. Though, if MC didn’t go with him, he’s likely to forget and just order something for the two of them when he gets back home.

“Goddamn teachers and their rambling!” Mammon whined, grabbing a slice of pizza from the open box on his coffee table. “You owe me, MC! Ya really do!”

“Yeah yeah yeah.” MC said, they leaned over and rolled a pizza slice into a pizza-scroll then proceeded to eat it like a veggie roll. “How do you think I feel, listening to them every day? You know how long it takes to get to the actual class material?”

“Five years?”

“Ugh! Five years if I’m lucky! I swear, I know more about my teacher’s grievances with like… five of my classmates than I do about trigonometry, and guess which one’s on the test next week?”

Mammon winced in sympathy, then remembered he was supposed to be whining and went back to it. “School’s shit and a waste of money, ya should drop out as soon as you can and help me run my new business.”

“You mean your pyramid scheme?”

“It’s not a pyramid scheme, MC! It’s legit! It’s a multi-tiered marketing-”

“It’s a pyramid scheme.”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA SOCIAL INTERACTION (Leviathan)

Everyone else must have been sick or something for MC to have asked Levi. He’d flat out refuse to go otherwise.

So, Levi couldn’t exactly go to the interview in his usual “I haven’t left my room or changed clothes in eight weeks” look. With the help of MC, he was able to find his military uniform at the back of his closet.

Asmo nearly fainted when he saw Levi in the uniform, not because “oooo, a man in uniform~”, it was because the outfit was so crumpled and wrinkled that it made it physically painful to look at. No time to iron and wash, the conference was in an hour!

Levi (and MC if they went with) rolled up to the school in a less than impressive ride, but one look at the uniform and all the other people present went “yep, time to be respectful (tm)”

For the first time in his life Levi was more intimidating than Lucifer! And he wasn’t even trying!

When the teacher starts explaining the course material, Levi spaces off in horror as he realizes he remembers literally nothing from school (AND HE’S STILL IN SCHOOL!) all that’s running through his head is “A squared + B squared = C squared” and “the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell”.

The actual interview was the least interesting part of the trip, the real stuff happened when Levi passed by some art on display in the hallway and something caught his eye-

Those colours… that hair… that adorable smile..!

IT WAS HER! LEVI’S PRECIOUS RURI-CHAN IN ALL HER GLORY!

Levi immediately started fawning over the art class fanart and by sheer coincidence, one of the kids walking through the hallway happened to notice.

The kid asked MC if their… parent and or guardian liked anime. MC responded with “obviously.” Levi then asked the kid if they drew his adorable Ruri-chan. The kid said no, and that they drew the My Hero Academia fanart a few rows down.

Levi was absolutely floored that there were two anime fans in one class, then his entire world shattered when MC explained there was more anime art inside the art room and other classrooms.

H-hang on… did that mean that… a lot of people here… liked anime..?

Levi needed a while to process. No snacks on the way home…

Levi and MC were sat in the back of their Uber, Levi, the Avatar of Envy himself, was having his entire sense of reality warped. S-so much anime fanart… in a school of all places..! What did this mean for the future of anime?!

“Levi. Stop.” MC sighed. “If this were an anime, the camera angle would be doing that thing where it’s right on the bridge of your nose and dramatic music plays in the background.”

“S-so many kids in your class like a-anime huh..?” Levi stuttered, weakly trying to smile. “Must be nice..?”

“Oh, that’s just my class. The other classes and grades have their fans too.”

“Oh… really?”

“Levi,” MC stopped looking out the window and looked at the otaku that was having a full scale silent mental breakdown. “Anime isn’t even a niche interest anymore. It’s a pretty casual thing to watch now. At least a third of my class watches- Levi?”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGHHHHH! ANIME! A THIRD OF THE CLASS?! ANIME… HIS PRECIOUS ANIME… WAS BECOMING A NORMIE INTEREST! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-

“Levi?” MC waved their hand in front of their spaced out demon’s face. “Leviiiii? Okay he’s dead.”

The Know it All (Satan)

Ah, a smart choice, MC. Satan would be glad to help further their education. He’ll do everything in his power to make sure that the human’s brain is fed all that sweet sweet knowledge.

Satan can’t dress himself normally, MC had to coax him into a suit jacket, but he still only wore one sleeve.

MC was coming along to the interviews whether they wanted to or not, it’s important to hear what they need to improve on from the teacher themselves after all.

The two arrived pretty early, so Satan asked MC for a tour of the school. It was pretty tame until they reached the library. Satan was horrified at the state of some of the books…

Their spines lined with duct tape… pages missing and torn… someone apparently used a taco as a book mark…

The first thing Satan does when it’s time for his interview is demand the teacher take better care of the library, even though they’re not the librarian. MC tries to explain this, but Satan is too distraught to listen to reason.

He enjoyed hearing about the course material, but he made it known if MC thinks the assignments are too easy that they need to be given more challenging work. THEIR BRAIN NEEDS TO BE STIMULATED DAMN IT.

It was up to MC to either agree with Satan and nod to the teacher, or make frantic eye contact with them to try and communicate “NO DON’T PLEASE”.

Similar to (ugh) Lucifer, as long as MC is doing their best, he’s happy for them.

…but if they are in any way in the running for valedictorian he is HELPING THEM WIN.

He decided to stop at a cafe or bookstore to let MC pick out a “congrats on surviving your pitiful school” present after the interviews.

MC gleefully perused the shelves of the bookstore, there were so many books too look at…

“I’ll buy you as many books as you’d like, MC, just,” Satan shuddered slightly. “Promise me you won’t treat them like those poor library books…”

MC put their hand over their heart. “I swear on the duct taped book spines that I will never treat a book like that.”

“Good… good…” Satan breathed a sigh of relief and went back to looking at his book about cats.

“Are you… reading a Warrior Cats book..?” MC asked tentatively.

“Yes, why?”

“Satan, put that back.”

“I Will Seduce the Teacher For the Sake of Your Grades, Don’t Worry.” (Asmodeus)

Oh MC dear! He’d be delighted to go! Just let him get ready~

Asmo may not be the best choice, but he was at least going to be the best dressed person at that conference. (And MC just had to come too so all the other parents could be jealous of how well coordinated their outfits are)

He teased MC a little by saying he was going to flirt with their teacher to make sure they passed the class, but he was just kidding! …but he made sure to ask if their teacher was cute, he needed to know!

While waiting for his turn, Asmo flirts with some of the single parents, if he doesn’t see a wedding ring, they’re fair game.

Once his time slot arrived, MC realized that Asmo is one of those “my child has done and will do nothing wrong ever” types. This may have ended up working in MC’s favour if they were a class nuisance.

If MC is doing very well in sports, clubs, grades, anything, Asmo is fawning over them and gushing to the teacher about how great, smart and adorable they are.

Asmo surprisingly does not exactly flirt with the teacher, he was just teasing MC after all. But um… if MC’s teacher just happens to be cute and young, he may turn up the charm, just a little. Enough to make the teacher giggle and make MC cover their face in embarrassment.

After the interviews Asmo will probably schedule a nice day out for the two of them, shopping, a movie, mani pedis, something fun!

The real weird stuff happens in the months after the interviews… if Asmo did lightly flirt with the teacher, MC gets quite a few questions about their guardian. Questions that ask if Asmo is single in not as many words…

Oh lord, MC’s teacher developed a crush on Asmo.

Nail painting night was supposed to be a fun occasion, but MC was hopping mad and embarrassed. Asmo didn’t seem to notice as he continued to paint the little human’s nails.

“And then I told Phenex to get lost. The nerve of that little monster, right MC?” When MC didn’t reply, Asmo looked up and tilted his head. “MC?”

MC’s angry face would have been much more threatening if they weren’t just so adorable, but it was getting the message across.

“MC..?”

“Asmo.” MC’s glare deepened. “My teacher wants to know if you’re single.”

Asmo blinked a few times, before he hit his tongue to keep from laughing. “Really now~. I knew they’d be madly in love with me-”

“WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIIIIIIIIIIIS?!”

Oh My Demon King is That a BAKE SALE?! (Beel)

Of course Beel said yes! He’d gladly go to MC’s parent teacher interview!

He even put on a nice outfit :D he ended up looking a bit like a secret serviceman guarding MC, the tiny president.

Beel stopped for McDonald’s on the way there, all the other kids were so jealous of MC when they stepped out of the car eating fries.

But a little something something caught Beel’s eye when he and MC walked into the school… was that a… bake sale?

MC quickly explained that the bake sale was fundraiser for their class trip that year and the snacks weren’t complimentary. He had to pay.

And pay Beel did. He cleared out the entire table. MC’s grade’s overnight trip was going to be decadent as hell. That was no longer a crowd funded thing, that trip was privately funded by a tall buff ginger secret service member and this tiny in comparison child.

Kids are incredibly blunt, just like Beel, so when a random kindergarten kid wandered over, looked up at Beel, and very knowingly said “you’re very tall”. Beel was like “yeah”. The kid then said “what’s it like being that tall?”

Beel’s response to this kid’s question was to pick them up and hold them for a few seconds before placing them back down. For just a few moments this kid knew what it like to be over 6’4. Of course, more kids swarmed in and asked to be picked up.

Sure it was cute, but Beel now has an army of kids ranging from kindergarteners to third graders.

Finally, the conference actually began. Beel snacked the entire time and dutifully listened to everything the teacher had to say.

After the interviews are over, he checks with MC to make sure everything the teacher said was true and that they weren’t lying. If all was well, the two made their exit.

They stopped at Wendy’s on the way home.

“I’m so full…” MC groaned, Beel held up a massive cookie.

“So I can eat this?”

“No. Gimme that.” MC took a very defeated bite out of it. “My stomach says no but my mouth says yes…”

“I don’t want you to get a stomachache, MC,” Beel said worriedly. “No more snacks.”

“It’s a little late for that. It’s past nine and I’m still eating, there’s no way I’m getting to sleep at a reasonable hour.”

“Oh…” Beel mumbled. “I may have not completely thought this through.”

“*Snore* Huh? Wha? MC’s Grades? Uh… Fuck…” (Belphie)

MC must be failing a class or something because why on earth would they pick Belphie otherwise.

They ask him to go while he’s delirious from just waking up from a nap, he sort of half nods and mumbles some gibberish before going back to sleep.

MC had to basically carry his ass to the school. Belphie drooled all over them in the waiting room, and when it was their time to go into the interview, Belphie had to be manually put into the chair and slapped awake.

He barely listens, he just sits and nods along with whatever the teacher is saying. The teacher could say MC brought an alligator to school and he’d just go “uh huh…” “mmmph… yep…” “really now?” then yawn.

The only thing that could possibly get Belphie to be interested is if MC is studying space. If they are, than boy howdy is Belphie suddenly interested in their education.

Other than that? *snore*

If MC is in fact failing or doing poorly, MC’s teacher asks to see another one of MC’s guardians at a later date. Their plan failed miserably.

MC drags Belphie out of the school and yells at him for not helping them. Belphie, still sleep delirious, tries to press the snooze button. MC does not have a snooze button.

“Belphie!” MC shouted, shaking the Avatar of Sloth awake. The House of Lamentation’s resident bastard was somehow sleeping standing up outside. “HOW COULD YOU?!”

“Eh?” Belphie half-snorted and looked around confused. “What’d I do? Where are we?”

“At my school! You said that you’d go to my parent teacher interviews!”

“…MC I don’t think I’d pass well for you.”

“YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO GO AS MY GUARDIAN!”

“Sheesh,” Belphie murmured while he rubbed the remaining sleep from his eyes. “You humans are so noisy.”

MC looked up at their dearest demon friend, and gave him their best glare. “I’m going to take all your fancy temperature changing pillows and switch them with normal pillows you traitorous bastard.”

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